Enoch's Challenge

by Warren W Ward

  Cris said wryly, "Well, that didn't help much. I was hoping for a miracle."

  "Me too, Cris. Me too."

  Just then there was the smell of smoke and the fire alarm went off.

  "Cris! The garden!"

  They both rushed into the garden Module A, and they could smell burning insulation.

  "Quick. Turn off the power to the artificial light."

  Cris rushed over to the panel and pulled the breaker. There was a smoke trace against the wall where the burning wires ran.

  "I think the transformer for the lighting unit has burned up and shorted. That must have been what was putting such a huge additional load on the battery drain! Evidently one generator is enough. I don't know why the breaker didn't function. It should have triggered. Just look at the burned wires. We're in trouble, Jason!"

  As they pulled the hot wire away from the other wires in the cable run, they had discovered an additional problem. The melted insulation from the impacted wires had bonded with the other wires that it touched. They finally decided to leave the ruined wires where they were rather than risk stripping insulation from the other good wires. Fortunately, nothing else seemed affected by the disaster.

  Jason got on the radio and explained the situation to Houston. He didn't hold out much hope for a solution from home. They were up a creek with a broken paddle.

  "I guess we better rearrange everything to get as much light as possible. Maybe we could bring some of the plants into the other modules and see about getting more light on them from our own light sources."

  "Yeah Cris, but the lighting system in here is designed for maximum plant growth. The others are not. Plus, this modified Zero-Contained garden isn’t exactly portable. I think we’re going to go hungry for a while. Let's go ahead and take inventory. We'll let NASA know where we stand. I don't think it will do any good, to tell you the truth." The full impact of their situation was just crystalizing in Jason’s mind.

  "Roger that, Captain."

  With about 45 or more days to go, this was going to be a tough struggle. Right now they were fine, but in the following days their belts would be tightened again and again, and they knew it!

  But what was their choice? There was no choice.

  "Captain...Maybe we should try Mars. Maybe they could help?"

  Jason said, "They have been ignoring us for a month. I don't know what their plan is, but it doesn't seem to involve us being best friends." Pausing, he continued, "Well, we have nothing to lose."

  "You're right there, Colonel. Let's see what happens."

  Jason picked up the mic. "Mars, this is Apollo 6. Mayday! Mayday! Mars, do you copy?"

  Silence.

  Five minutes later he tried again.

  "Mars, this is Apollo 6. Come in, please. We have a problem."

  Silence.

  Five more minutes went by.

  "We have less than a two minute delay. They either are not monitoring their radio, they are ignoring us, or something terrible has happened to them. I just don't know why else they wouldn’t answer. I'll try again in 10 minutes."

  Ten minutes passed and Jason tried again, "Mars, this is Apollo 6. Come in please. We’ve had a major disaster in our garden. We risk running out of food. I repeat, come in please!"

  Silence.

  "Well, I guess we really are on our own," Cris said.

  "I'm afraid you're right, Colonel. God help us!"

  –––––––

  The days and weeks continued to drag on.

  Even with Dyer's death, their plans had relied heavily on the food from the garden, and without it there simply was not enough food to sustain the two men for nine months. They had been on reduced calories for nearly seven months. By the third week remaining, there was less than 500 calories each and they were literally starving to death. They barely had the energy to do much of anything. Both of them were definitely running out of body reserves. In another two weeks there could be organ failure.

  "Cris. How are you doing?"

  Jason had not seen Cris move much for hours, but his own lack of strength kept him from doing more than calling out.

  They had taken turns taking care of the garden and harvesting what they could. The plants were not doing well in the poor cabin light, and the dwindling sunlight wasn’t contributing nearly enough. It was a constant battle to keep the ship at the right angle to capture as much sun as possible. Jason was concerned about his ability to stay lucid enough to handle the controls.

  "Cris. Can you hear me?"

  Silence.

  Jason gathered all the energy he could muster, unsnapped his bunk belt and floated over to Cris.

  Cris's breathing was very shallow, and he didn't respond to Jason's touch. Jason was afraid Cris was going into renal failure or something just as bad. Who knew how many other organs could be failing? He tried to get Cris to sip some water. Cris opened his mouth and Jason put the straw into it. He sucked the water through the straw and took two swallows. Then he passed out again.

  Jason realized he was going to lose his friend if something didn't happen soon. He pushed himself off and floated over to the radio.

  With as much strength as he could muster he called out, "MARS.” he coughed from the effort, “This is Apollo 6. Come in please."

  Silence.

  As he turned away from the radio he heard the speaker come to life.

  "Apollo 6, this is Mars. How are you doing, Captain Hotson?"

  In the dimmed cabin lighting Jason turned quickly and accidentally pushed himself off in the wrong direction. His head hit something on the ceiling and he passed out. It was an hour later when he came to and realized what had happened. He cleaned his bloody head wound as best he could, and then he went back to the radio.

  "Mars, this is Apollo 6. We are not doing well. Our food stores are practically gone, and I can't get my shipmate to respond. He is unconscious most of the time, now. We could sure use some help. We are still 2-3 weeks out. We are desperate, Mars. You may be receiving two dead men by the time we get there. Frodo 1 out."

  "Apollo 6, we will send a rescue craft your way immediately, but it will take a few days to get there. Use up all your stores to keep from deteriorating more. Don't give up. Mars out."

  Don't give up? That is easier said than done. He spent much of his day trying to take care of Cris.

  "Cris. Don’t quit on me guy. Drink this."

  Jason would force Cris to wake up and drink water or soup. That is all Cris was capable of handling.

  Jason did his best to gather the remaining food stores from the garden–both plants and seeds–and kept them close to his rack. He knew he would continue to get weaker, as he gave Cris the most nutritious parts of the remaining food. Even then, Cris only continued to get more feeble, as did himself. It took all of Jason’s strength to put Cris in his space suit in preparation for the Martian rescue team. Then, he almost didn’t get himself in his own suit. As the hours rolled on, he had all but given up hope. Maybe Mars couldn't find them? Maybe something had happened to the rescue craft. Maybe it was all a hoax and there weren't any Martians. Maybe he was already dead, and his mind just didn't know it.

  "I wonder what happened to those blasted mice?" he thought out loud.

  Then Jason tried one more time to feed Cris something, but he lost all strength himself and collapsed on his rack. He lost all consciousness.

  "Apollo 6, this is Mars."

  Silence.

  "Apollo 6. This is Mars calling."

  Silence.

  Chapter 14–Rescue

  To say Mission Control in Houston was worried would be an understatement. The last message they had from Apollo 6 was one of desperation. The garden was completely depleted. Not one edible leaf remained, and the dry food was completely gone. The normal shipboard lighting had slowed down plant growth to the point that very little was being produced. Jason told them that which was produced was consumed almost as soon as it came up from the enriched soil. Ironically, they never c
onsidered the candy bars on board that they carried for the Martians. It might have helped a little.

  The last they heard, Jason had tried contacting Mars, but got no reply. There was literally nothing NASA could do but wait.

  As the weeks lagged on, all but a few at NASA had given up hope. Jerry Probert was the only one who kept a positive attitude. They kept the radio channel clear, of course, and there were plans being developed for a follow-on mission. But that would be a very long time out into the future. There were even thoughts of diverting Apollo 11 or 13 to Mars instead of the Moon. Realistically however, since the Moon launch was already announced and popular, the mission to Mars would have to remain classified; releasing it would not be politically advantageous. The rest of the Apollo missions would have to go off as scheduled. The only option was to try again with another mission, but Lyndon Johnson was not running for president again, so there was no political muscle behind it at this point.

  NASA, however, had put a few of their best people planning a possible future Mars mission. It would take a bit to get it designed, but they had learned a lot from Apollo 6 and would improve on their mistakes and weaknesses. Regardless, this would not help Apollo 6. For all intents and purposes, Apollo 6 was lost.

  –––––––

  Captain Jason Hotson, USN, woke to find himself in a white room connected to a cluster of tubes and wires. The room was unlike any hospital room he had ever been in with its curves and cornerless, well, corners. The doorway was oval-shaped, much like the waterproof hatch on a ship–except it was also smooth with no latches. Even the equipment to which he was connected was unlike anything he had ever seen before. He had no idea what it did. It worried him a little. He had spent many months in a hospital bed before, but this was just weird!

  To say he was confused would be an understatement! The last thing he remembered was trying to get Cris to eat something. He himself had not eaten in nearly a week. He figured he was stronger than Cris, so he diverted most of his food to him. He knew it wouldn't last them both very long, anyway. There was not enough nourishment to sustain even one of them for long, much less two! Mars had promised to rescue them, but he knew that would take time. Was this Mars? Or was this heaven?

  He considered disconnecting himself from all of the gadgets and tubes to find out what was going on. But just as he was about to figure out how, the door opened. A very pretty woman in a white uniform walked into the room.

  "Ah, good evening Captain Hotson. I see you are awake, and I must say you are in much better shape now than when you last saw yourself in the mirror. You were getting pretty scrawny. Now you're starting to put on some weight. That's good. I think you will enjoy it more when you can eat normally instead of gorging yourself on that delicious paste we send down the tubes. I know it's not the same, but I hear it’s yummy!" she said, smiling and batting her eyelids.

  Jason was a bit taken aback by such a beautiful smile, but he asked, "Are you ey, er, droctor?” He gagged through the tubes down his throat.

  She said with a straight face, "Actually, I'm with the accounting department. I'm here about your bill."

  Jason looked a bit confused.

  Laughing, she said, "Yes, I'm your primary physician. Don't worry about the bill. We'll just deduct it from your account on Earth."

  Now smiling, Jason replied, "You do know the a-avy takes care of aye e-edical sills,” he gagged again, “you will hash to sill out some sorms in triglicate and send thess through frofer channels." Speaking with the tube in was not an easy accomplishment, as he stifled a few coughs.

  “Aye, aye, Captain, as I believe you boys in the Navy say.”

  Then, a seriously-concerned look spread over his face as he asked the question to which he dreaded the answer, "How is Colonel Kelly?"

  With a cheerful demeanor, she replied, "We were able to use most of his organs to save your life. You can see his remains later, if you wish.”

  “Whaa?” Jason said loudly.

  Laughing she said, “I was just checking your cognitive abilities. He’s doing quite well. actually. However, your friend had it worse than you did, but he is coming along nicely. You can see him later, if you wish."

  Jason tried to frown at her, but it didn’t work. But his face did light up with that news. ‘Vondershul. I look foruard to rat.”

  "I must say, we still have more work to do on him. He was in bad shape when he was brought in."

  Jason stopped and looked a little confused. “How long has ue wen here?”

  "About a month, I believe. I was assigned to your case a week ago. They wanted to keep you unconscious until you had put on some weight. It was safer for you that way."

  Jason thought a few minutes. "Has you notisied Earff? And what is your nabe, anybay?"

  She hesitated slightly, "I think you need to talk to the Bishop about things. And my name is Vickie."

  "Sishop? Wiffy?"

  Ignoring him she said "On board this ship Bishop is our equivalent to 'Captain'. His name is Bishop Rhodes, actually. You'll like him. My name is Vickie, not Wiffy," she said with a smile.

  "Biffob Wodes. I shtill hab to wook on dat."

  "You won't have to wait long; as soon as he finds out you are awake he'll want to meet with you. Speaking of which, I'll be right back, Captain. He needs to know you are doing better."

  "Will I thee you again?"

  "Well, if you want to. I hope to discharge you in a few weeks. You may be tired of me by then."

  She reached over and had him open his mouth and then she pulled out the stomach tube. More gagging followed. It didn't feel so good, but he was glad to have it out.

  She told him, "I know that was icky, but it's over. You should feel much better soon. And I suppose you will talk real English now."

  He coughed a bit and wiped his mouth. "Well, that wasn't very flattering of me. Couldn’t you have pulled that thing out that before we talked?”

  “Yes, she said. But where would be the fun in that?” she said seriously.

  ”He coughed and cleared his throat. “I almost threw up. What a way to start a relationship!"

  "Relationship? Captain, I hardly know you! Maybe you take me to dinner first?" she said with fake alarm.

  "Oh, I meant, uh, I…I… I think I’m delirious…"

  "Relax, sailor. I'm just teasing. Maybe you should get up when the technician removes the rest of your sensors and tubes and get yourself cleaned up. You look terrible, and you smell, well, interesting. But be careful, you have lost a lot of muscle tone. Don’t worry though, it will come back quickly with a little warapy. Sorry. I couldn’t resist,” she said laughing.

  "Oh, sorry about the beard,” Jason said. “It has been a while," He rubbed his long, scraggly beard. He continued, "I don't like beards, but it became too much trouble to keep up with it as I got weaker. I hope to look 'normal' the next time I see you. I will see you, right?"

  "Oh, we’ll see. It depends on how well you clean up. I don't really know what you look like. You could be as ugly as a pretacian frog."

  "A what?"

  "Oh, sorry. Too much, too fast. I’d better get Ben."

  Dr. Vickie turned and headed for the door. She turned back just before reaching the door and gave Jason a quick smile.

  "Bye for now, Captain."

  Then, she was out the door before he could respond. Jason laid back onto his pillow, smiling. He thought to himself, Boy. This is an interesting turn of events. And that doctor! Tall, blonde, and gorgeous! Maybe I should just stay weak and helpless for a while…

  Then it dawned on him that his friend was alive, and the worry that had crossed his face turned into a smile. Poor Cris. I hope he gets back to normal soon, Jason thought to himself.

  Before he could give it more thought, the door opened again and a young man walked in.

  "Good morning, Captain Hotson. My name is Ben Litchfield. I'm the tech that will free you from these wires and tubes. The doctor says you are ready for some solid food, but mostly it will
still be soft foods for a while. Delicious-sounding, huh?"

  Jason smiled at the tech and held up his arm. Ben smiled and disconnected the IV tubes from his right arm. Then the devices on his arms for the EKG, or whatever, were taken off.

  "Ouch."

  "Sorry, Captain. But the glue on these things is tough. It was much easier having you in the medical scanning autodoc. No sticky things or punctures."