Future Days Anthology, page 8
part #1 of The Days Series
“Well...that’s you and I sorted then, mate,” he gasped as he struggled to catch his breath.
“Trent, you’ve killed an innocent man.”
Trent jumped in surprise. His eyes suddenly widened. I suppose she’s recorded it as well?
“Karen,” he shouted, trying to stay calm, “uhh...delete the last twenty minutes of pod bay footage.”
“I’m sorry, Crewmember Cadwell, I cannot do that.”
Ugh, back to formalities? This is definitely bad. What to do? What to do?
There stood the empty pod, hanging open. Its warm electric glow beckoned him.
My wife loves me. She’s been waiting for me the whole time I’ve been stuck here. She’s also clever. He tapped the side of his head. She’ll know where to hide me till this blows over!
Leaving the battered carcass, he slowly walked forward. He could hear her beautiful voice. It was laughing and calling for him. He’d forgive her. She’d forgive him. She hadn’t known, and he was just defending her honor. They’d reconcile, laugh, and continue their tour of Florence far from Genico’s reach. Then, on to Vienna.
“Trent Cadwell! Do not enter that pod.”
Karen fired her loudest klaxon, but Trent climbed in undeterred.
“Trent! This ship’s reentry and landing systems are reliant upon a volunteer maintenance member. If you don’t wake the next –”
The pod lid sealed, cutting off the cacophony. Trent relaxed and breathed deeply as he felt the stasis gas begin to flow.
✽✽✽
A gentle breeze drifted over rolling azure hills. A light shower of rain had just fallen, cooling the air. Small droplets glistened like bright jewels on indigo blades of grass. Merlot sister-moons hung in the sky, caught in an eternal embrace, and there was a glint of light as the Bound and Determined broke through the atmosphere. Moments later, the ground quaked, and a bright flash of light erupted into a mushroom cloud. Some debris fell out of the sky, peppering the ground.
Then, everything was still.
Nearby, some verdant plants blossomed, displaying transparent petals and a glistening pink fruit. A small winged creature settled on one of the flowers and landed, unfurling its long proboscis. Drinking deeply of the sweet nectar, it fluttered its wings, displaying a vivid black and orange tiger stripe fringed in royal blue.
###
About Justin C. Fulton
JUSTIN FULTON M.A.E. IS CURRENTLY an English Instructor at United Arab Emirates University in the UAE. Previously, he spent five years developing written and electronic curriculum for Title 1 programs and advanced English via technology pilots in Arizona. While he’s previously been a fan of Golden Era science fiction authors like Ray Bradbury, Isaac Asimov, or Philip K. Dick, he also enjoys more modernist writers like Kurt Vonnegut. Justin’s own work is heavily influenced by these authors.
Connect with Justin here: www.castrumpress.com/justin-c-fulton
Orbital burn
DAVID M. HOENIG
They made all the convict laborers watch when they flushed Ralph Mason into space, and I hated every minute of it.
Part of why it was so awful was that Ralphie and I had worked together for years now, and he was as much of a friend as anyone could expect to make in prison. In addition, knowing that he’d been sentenced to death by friction to make an example for the rest of us wasn’t at all reassuring about our own futures. Most of all, though, the warden’s men carried it out from the rim airlock instead of the axial one. That way they could use the station’s spin-G to send him on his way free of charge, as it were.
The problem was that the generated gravity there made my knees ache like they’d been beaten with a fucking sledge.
In fairness, for Ralphie it was no doubt worse: he had to contend with the knowledge that the oxy in his shroud would last just about long enough for his de-orbital track to hit Earth’s atmosphere, whereupon he would burn to death rather abruptly.
A few moments of silence reigned after he’d been launched. Johnny High-Low noisily hawked up a wad of phlegm and swallowed it. “Bugger was two hundred proof, he was.”
A chorus of grunts agreed. Kurt Weber leaned over and whispered to me, “What’s that mean?”
Kurt was nineteen years old and had only been on-station for a couple of weeks. I didn’t know what he’d been imprisoned for. Only nonviolent criminals were ever even considered for orbital service work, and since it was dangerous to volunteer for, it must have been something that carried a substantial jail sentence. Only crazies and long-termers chose to risk injury and death in space – which, I guess, tells you something about me. Whatever Kurt had done to end up here, he was already a huge pain in the ass, so I just ignored him.
In the slang of the Protective Sun Shield Station – ‘PiSS,’ to us convict laborers – ‘two hundred proof’ meant that the man they’d just fired at Earth had been a hundred-percent jackass. But as Ralphie could personally attest – at least for the next hour or so – the station’s director had zero tolerance for anything that offended him: swearing, at least by prisoners, was high on that list.
Unfortunately, Kurt didn’t give up easily. “Is it true that admin pooched the air mix in the pods to save money, and the low oxygen made him lose control?”
Fucking rumors already, and Ralph isn’t even soot yet.
I was about to interrupt when a big hand fell heavily on my shoulder and squeezed hard enough to hurt. “Slade.”
I recognized the voice. It belonged to a sadist of a prison guard who acted like a naval marine wannabe. Jerkwad. I turned towards him and the grip released. “Yes, Officer McGurk?”
“Knox wants you in his office, you pathetic old shit.”
“What for?”
“How the hell should I know? Maybe he just wants to ask if the send-off of your ass-buddy made you feel warm and fuzzy. Just move it before I have to shock-stick your useless balls.”
Kurt was behind my left shoulder, and I felt him lean forward against me as he tensed up. I reached a hand behind me, grabbed his wrist to stop him from doing anything completely stupid, nodded to McGurk. He waved me out ahead of him, and we left the rim lock towards the hub and the only person on the station here longer than me – at least, now that Ralphie was finally on his way home.
Fuck, but I’ve been here a long time.
✽✽✽
Although chronologically older than me, Director Knox looked younger, mostly because his office resided in the best-shielded part of the station, while I spent at least a third of every day in one of the twenty-year-old sleds used to service the huge sun shield that slowly cooled the overheated Earth.
Knox sat behind his desk, leaving me standing to attention. I didn’t mind all that much: he’d dismissed McGurk like he mattered less than me, and the weaker rotational gravity at his office reduced some of the agony in my knees.
He spoke in a dry, sandpapery, wasp-like tone. “I’m assigning Kurt Weber to your team, Mr. Slade. He’s completed training and orientation for EVA maneuvering, and you need a replacement for Mr. Mason.”
And the fucks just keep on coming. “Thank you, Director.”
He nodded. “I expect you to maintain optimum efficiency of your team despite his lack of experience.”
“Of course, sir.” Asshole knows I’ll be lucky if the newb doesn’t kill us all.
Knox simply turned to look out his small window, in which Earth sat squarely. It was odd that he hadn’t dismissed me or made me want to ask if he wanted me to go, but I had more sense than that. Eventually the old bastard spoke. “We’re making a difference, you know.”
“Sir?”
“Down there, on Earth.”
“Yessir.”
He scowled and turned back to me to jab his finger in my direction. “Don’t give me that bullshit, Mr. Slade. Not today.” He slumped back in his seat. “I want an actual conversation with someone.”
Bastard was in a mood, it seemed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Knox. You’ll pardon me for being a bit on the careful side, what with the recent demonstration.”
The administrator and de facto warden of PiSS raised his eyebrow questioningly, but then nodded tiredly. “Mr. Mason left me no choice, unfortunately. Believe me, I’m sorry to lose his experienced hand on Shield maintenance.”
Not sorry enough for Ralphie, apparently. “Um, you said something about making a difference, sir?”
“In the decades since the Shield has been operational, we’ve expanded on the initial design specifications and exceeded expectations. As you know, we can operate sequentially to allow sunlight through over land mass for crops, while reducing exposure over water to reduce ocean heating, and it’s working! The average daily and seasonal temperatures in both hemispheres have dropped, particularly during local summers. Polar ice caps have recovered to mid-twenty-first century levels, increasing planetary albedo. Earth is cooling, albeit slowly.” He looked out his window again, and when he spoke, it was away from me. “We are making a difference.”
I nodded, even though he didn’t see it.
“You have children down there, don’t you, Mr. Slade? Family?”
Megan and Jessica. The thought of the twins made my voice a bit husky. I hadn’t seen them outside of video since I’d come up the gravity well. “Yes, Director.”
He glanced back at me and pursed his lips at what he saw on my face. “We’re doing it for them, Slade. You know it. For yours, mine... for all of them down there.”
I held his gaze, then nodded again. “I know, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Knox looked away again. After a few moments, he exhaled deeply. “All right, you’re dismissed.”
✽✽✽
Crammed into our service pod in the station’s shielded bay, Johnny High-Low, Kurt Weber, Sri Pawar and I awaited launch for our work shift.
Sri appeared to be napping, but was probably either meditating or trying to avoid talking to Kurt. Either way, I didn’t mind – I wanted my pilot calm and unflappable anyway – but it always irritated me that I couldn’t do whatever it was that he did.
“I don’t understand why we have to be in here this far in advance of launch,” the newb said. “I could’ve been –”
Johnny lost his patience first. “You could’ve taken extra rads you don’t need, SFB. Cosmic rays just waiting for a chance to shiv your genome can’t get through the heavier shielding down here. Besides, Knox stays happier if we’re not scrambling like idiots at the last minute.”
Shit for brains – hah, that’s a good one. “High-Low’s right.” Kurt swiveled his head to me, his terminal lack of understanding etched clearly on his face. “Be thankful we’ve got a nice safe burrow to hide in for a little extra time, and for anything that keeps us off the director’s radar.”
Johnny snorted and shook his head. “You think there’s any kind of ‘safe’ up here, boss? The only reason we’re all here is because the world got tired of losing heroes, and the sooner SFB over there understands that troublesome fact, the better off we’ll be.”
Kurt was silent for a few moments. I thought that’d be the end of it, at least for a while. Instead, he leaned over to me and whispered: “‘SFB’?”
I gave him my best shut up, dickhead look, and to my surprise, he did. Maybe he was learning.
A glance at Sri proved him smarter than the rest of us: his eyes were still closed, but there was a small smile on his lips.
Bastard.
✽✽✽
Gentle thrust had pressed us back into the cradles of our acceleration couches for about an hour, the sensation of lying down in light gravity inviting sleep until Sri broke the silence. “Mallard coming up on Shield periphery now – starting braking maneuvers to bring us to relative stop.”
I was still struggling awake when Johnny spoke to Kurt. “Before you ask, PiSS might call it Pod 2, but Mallard’s her name. To us, anyway.”
The pilot’s voice made it easy to imagine the proud smile on his face. “After the fastest steam locomotive in the first third of the twentieth, since we’re basically using steam for reaction mass.”
My body floated forward off my cradle to press against the restraining straps as the pilot applied forward thrust. “What’ve we got waiting for us, Sri?”
He checked his panels. “Cobb’s crew logged repairs over in grids nine and eleven last shift, but they flagged new damage from space garbage in seventeen they couldn’t deal with before their window closed.”
“SOB shoulda fixed it. Cobb’s two hundred proof, too,” Johnny groused.
“Give or take,” I agreed. “Still, if the log looked like he was shirking, Knox would have him making Earthfall already. That means it’s ours. Do we have anything else to worry about?”
Sri shook his head. “We’re lucky.”
“Then send the specifics to my station and take us over to seventeen.”
The pilot activated thrust, which faded to background for me as I swung a panel in to examine in my cradle. I felt a headache coming on and stretched my neck. Over to my left, Kurt began to retch, and Johnny laughed at him as I scanned the telemetry. Couple of breaks, we just need to...wait, that’s not right. “Uh, fellas, we got an issue. Sri, focus on these coordinates.” I sent them over.
The big screen came up, showing the shield approaching rapidly as the pilot focused cameras and scanners onto the area to give us a composite view. The break in the Shield was substantial, the torn edges distracted from each other in all directions.
“Well, fu...” Johnny breathed, then glanced around uncomfortably. “Getaboutit.”
“Uh, boss? I don’t feel so good,” Kurt mumbled.
Shit, me either, kid. I ignored him for the moment. “Sri: that’s much worse than Cobb’s report. What happened? What about the Shield’s orbit?”
It seemed like we all held our breaths as his fingers danced over the computer console. “It’s stable, but only barely. Whatever did this was big and ugly, and hit at a bad angle. Looks like the damage spread along the superstructure, and it took out – oh God! – the automatic compensators in fifteen through eighteen!”
I heard Johnny’s sharply indrawn breath.
Catastrophic failure. I felt nauseous. “Cobb missed the secondary damage,” I breathed.
Sri swiveled around to face us. “Ring around the rosy, gents.”
We all fall down. I glanced over at Kurt, wondering why he hadn’t asked any stupid questions, and saw him sitting vacant and glassy-eyed. “Johnny, check the kid.” He unhooked the web that held him in place and pushed off with his legs towards Kurt as I turned to Sri. “Can we fix this?”
My pilot looked queasy too as he played the numbers on his display. “I don’t know, boss. We’ll need every ounce of thrust that Mallard’s got, the EVA suit jets, something to bridge the gap to prevent further propagation of the damage until repairs...” He raised his head. “It’s bad. I just don’t know.”
“But if we don’t...?”
Sri blew out a breath.
My girls...! I swallowed and took hold of my own fear. “Okay. Report it to the station, then take us in to see what we can do.” As Sri started thrust, I looked over at Johnny, who’d put a mask over Kurt’s face.
“Oxy,” he explained. “His lips were blue.” He glanced down at the kid, and I saw Kurt look in my direction. He gave me a weak thumbs-up.
“Nice work, Johnny. Now, how about you get me anything on board that you can turn into a motorized winch?”
Johnny gave me a quizzical look, but pushed off and went across the cabin to rummage for anything that could help.
I released from my station and pushed off to go to Kurt. “Are you okay? Sri’s got to pilot, and High-Low’s got to handle the tech stuff, so I’m going to need you to go EVA with me.”
He swallowed and began to remove the mask, but I stopped him, watched him breathe shakily. “I’m good, boss. Really.”
“What the hell happened?”
“Don’t know. Got nauseous, figured it was the transition from thrust, but then my head felt like it was splitting, and I passed out.”
That reminded me of my own headache, forgotten in the shock of the extent of the Shield damage. I ignored it. “How is it now?”
“Headache’s still there, but less. I can function.”
I felt thrust change, and grabbed hold of the webbing on Kurt’s cradle to keep myself in place.
“We’ll be in position in ten minutes,” Sri said.
“Suit up,” I told Kurt. “Johnny, tell me you got something we can use.”
“Hey, I’m a genius, boss. I’ve got the motorized mechanism off the emergency lock. It’s got its own power supply, and it’ll work in vacuum.”
Genius? You’re an electronics and mechanical geek, failed thief, and convict douchebag. But right now, I’ll take it and thank you. “Outstanding.”
Kurt and I suited up. Johnny clipped the motor and a couple of long spools of ultra-strong cable to my suit, then loaded us up with the rest of our EVA gear. Sri came over to help and double-check our suits once we were at relative stop at section seventeen of the Shield.
He turned me to the main screen and pointed out an area on both schematic and live views. “Run the line from the bow strut hard-point, because it’ll take the load we’re going to put on it. Link up to the damaged part here” – he indicated a specific point on one side of the gap – “and I’ll apply thrust to stop its current motion and start moving it towards the other part. Then you’ll cable separately and jump for the other side of the break.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “I’ll show you exactly where on your heads-up display once you’re on the Shield.”
I nodded and looked at Kurt, who bit his lip but also nodded. “Will it work, Sri?”
“I don’t know.”
Shit.
Johnny tapped the newb on his helmet. “Don’t get lost out there, SFB: it’s a long way down.”
I saw Kurt swallow. Johnny, you’re such an asshole. “Never mind him, kid. We’ll get the job done.”
He gave me a weak smile, and we went into the airlock together.
The words ‘long way down’ seemed to echo in my head as the lock closed and the air cycled out. My headache felt worse, so I tongued some pain reliever from the suit’s stores.
