The challenge was to craft a "birthday" story for one of the crew of the following story.
Example story:
This story combines all entries from the previous Aphelion Project Flash Fiction Challenges into one, more complete, piece. The originals are available here and here. The series proposal page is here.
A close-up view of the ships from Bill Warren's excellent illustration is here.
The Aphelion Project
By:
N.J. Kailhofer
Based on characters and situations created by Bill Wolfe, Casey Callaghan, and N.J. Kailhofer
Aphelion One, Day 37
A ripping sound startled Alexander Curtis awake. For a moment, he forgot where he was, and his arms tangled in the netting that held him to the wall.
"What the devil--" He finally disentangled himself, then unclipped a corner of the thin Mylar sheet colored to look like a Union Jack flag that separated his webbed 'bunk' from the rest of the module.
The upside-down, beaming smile of American Mission Specialist Penny Jones bobbed in and out of his view.
"Morning, Captain," she said. "Would you like a little sprig of spearmint? Well, it used to be spearmint, but then we combined it with genes from
pyrococcus furiosus to reduce its stress reaction and
Chlamydomonas nivalis, a snow-loving algae for cold survival, which is also what makes it red. Now it only kind of tastes like spearmint, but it can grow on Mars. Want some?"
Blearily, he regarded the pungent red leaf she extended toward him with suspicion. "Is that for your vertigo?"
Penny pointed. "Not a problem anymore."
Looking up along her usual white jumpsuit, he saw that she had attached a thin strip of Velcro along the ceiling. Her thin boots seemed to be anchored to that strip. That had to be the cause of the ripping noise he heard.
She said, "As long as my feet are on the deck, I don't feel sick, so I asked Gode to rig me up some boots with Velcro and magnets. That way I can walk around almost every part of the ship without blowing chunks."
"How nice," he replied with practiced patience. "But why are you upside down?"
She shrugged. "To me, you're the one topsy-turvy."
She was one of only three civilians on the mission, NASA's very best at zeoponics. He was always impressed how white she managed to keep her clothes while working with her plants. Tending his one bonsai tree always left his uniform in a deplorable state. Although, the way her clothes accentuated her natural curves, he suspected she wore a size too small on purpose.
Her auburn, curly hair was short, and easy to maintain in the lack of real gravity. Penny had a fair complexion and green eyes, and, he had to admit, a really warming smile. She resumed bobbing up and down, doing something that looked like deep knee bends.
Curtis rubbed his eyes. "Miss Jones, what
are you doing?"
She laughed. "Exercising. It's kind of like a cross between Pilates and a balance beam, but your feet can't move. I saw this martial arts master prepping for a match once, and he was doing a thing a lot like this, so I thought I should try it and--"
"Do you have to do it right outside my bed?"
She paused. "This is the only space where I have enough head and arm room. All due respect, Captain, but
you're the one not in the assigned crew space."
Curtis frowned. "Doctor Smith snores like a lorry trying to climb a steep incline."
She smiled. "Doc reminds me of my Pop when I was a little girl. Are you sure you don't want some spearmint? It's a fresh crop, and it's great for morning breath. I started drying some for use in tea when we finally land and that gravity starts making everybody queasy. You should see how good it smells back in the service module."
"I shall stick with the assigned diet, thank you." He had to admit, though, his mouth tasted rather pasty.
Penny shrugged again, and went back to exercising. Curtis gave up on the idea of going back to sleep and neatly folded the Mylar and stowed it in a pouch alongside the netting. The net pulled itself to the wall automatically as he exited.
A quick cleanup sounded good to him, so he was soon staring at his rough stubble in the mirror as he tried to shave without floating away. He kept his graying hair in a crew cut for convenience during the six-month journey, but was planning to let his mustache grow back during the eighteen months on the surface of Mars, when gravity could help keep the little hairs out of the instruments. A change into his uniform of bottle-green trousers, khaki shirt, navy blue pullover, and special Mars-red beret had Curtis feeling proper, so he stopped to check the ship's status.
Co-Pilot Chang was strapped in at the controls in his country's Type 07-style desert fatigues, adapted for a Mars color scheme. Chang wore his black hair close-cropped over his slender frame. The experts may have been right when they insisted that the first missions be predominantly a military crew to maintain the discipline needed for a nearly three-year mission. The sailors and soldiers provided by the multi-nation coalition financing the trip were some of the finest he had ever served with.
Curtis liked Chang, or Wei as he really should be called. Family names came first in his culture, but most of his Western crew could not seem to keep that straight, so they used his last name as a first. All in all, Curtis felt Chang did the People's Republic proud. He was neat, orderly, and efficient.
But his co-pilot looked decidedly bored in front of the radar screen, not that Curtis could really fault him. The constant monitoring for obstacles, of which all had been mapped except for occasional grains of space dust took a toll on the crew's efficiency. None of the grains had ever been close, and none had ever caused even a minor course correction.
Chang said, "Good morning, Captain."
Curtis smiled. He hadn't made a noise.
"Morning, Zhong Wei Chang." He always tried to use the Chinese version of 'Lieutenant' when talking to Chang. His British pronunciation of 'left-tenant' seemed to amuse the American portion of his crew. "Report."
Chang said, "Central systems report normal functioning. We remain nine light seconds ahead of Aphelion Two, and we are on our flight path. Internal ship temperature is 22° Celsius, and humidity holding steady. Water-reclamation and filtering systems are working properly. Battery and solar array function are normal. Minor power fluctuations were recorded in the lander/docking coupling. Engineer Zwelitini is attempting to diagnose the problem. You have three interviews and a blog entry due this duty cycle, sir."
"Damn those interviewers. They never ask anything remotely interesting, and they don't even listen to your answer."
Chang paused before adding. "Doctor Smith has the next kitchen duty. He said he wanted to make split pea soup."
Curtis winced. The man was a skilled surgeon, and vital to keeping the life support systems functioning, but meals were not his forte. After his last "soup," most of the crew grumbled that his meals were designed to give himself so many patients that he'd be too busy to cook.
"Well," Curtis said, "let's see if a series of drills sharpens everyone up and keeps those media vultures occupied. Perhaps we'll save a power outage drill for the galley when he starts cooking. I think our ration stores can afford straight MREs for everyone tonight."
Chang smiled.
[align=center]***[/align]
Aphelion Two, Day 43
"Dunsirn," Commander Pete Macridin called over the radio, "How
aboot we wrap this thing up, eh? Your elapsed EVA time is nearly six hours, now."
Canadians, Ophelia thought.
How can Helga stand Mac's accent?
She replied, "The housing is stuck. I'm working on it."
Ophelia knew Mac would be watching her on the screen in the dressing chamber, just inside the airlock. His helmet would be open, but otherwise, he'd be ready to EVA at a moment's notice. Back on the ISS they always sent two out at once, but they had more frequent re-supply ships. Out there, ships simply couldn't store enough compressed oxygen for all the possible trips for two outside during a six-month trip, so they conserved by having one crewmember out and the other just inside the airlock.
Deep down, though, she knew he'd really be itching to get out of his uncomfortable space suit and get back into his regular uniform of black pants and denim work shirt with epaulets.
Mac said, "I think you just like showing off for the cameras, but I'm pretty tired of wearing this suit all day as your backup, you know. It's hard as hell to push buttons with these damn gloves on."
Ophelia peered over her shoulder toward the CCD camera on the dishes. She had little doubt that a lot of Earth was indeed watching her struggle to fix the next mechanical hiccup of the mission.
No, she thought,
they're watching an astronaut work on the communications platform. Most of them don't even know my name, and won't even after we land. Only trivia buffs will remember the second ship, and nobody will remember who was second in command.
Not even the Brooklyn residents of Little Pakistan where I grew up. Of course, since Dad was black, I was always apart from the rest of them. They wouldn't remember the little girl they called names because of the color of her skin until she ran away and joined the Navy.
The nut finally budged. "I figured it out. We should change the manual that the top two bolts are reverse threaded so you have to turn them the opposite direction from the bottom two."
Mac laughed. "I'll add it to today's glitch list right after the beef jerky that was mislabeled as freeze-dried broccoli."
"Oh, great," Ophelia said with a mocking tone. "Can't wait to see what your wife cooked up."
Mac didn't answer for a minute. "Helga says Chandra, Sidney, and Takuya kept it down, so whatever it is, it will fill you up. All righty. You're in the way of the camera, but I see the housing is open. How much longer on that bypass, Lieutenant-Commander? Let's get it done out there, eh?"
'Lieutenant-Commander?' Oh, I dared to criticize the wife. Helga was just a botanist without much to do during training when they started hanging out together. They married at the last minute. She had less skills and less time in space than anyone.
Men. Anything for a set of big boobs and batted eyelashes.
"Almost there, sir. You should see some systems start to flip green."
"Roger that."
She made the last connection. "Wait. Something's wrong. That shouldn't--"
[align=center]***[/align]
Aphelion One
The intercom said, "Three minutes to
All My Children."
It was the unofficial call to dinner, Penny's favorite time of day. She grabbed a baggie of modified
Oxyria digyna leaves and headed for the Hab module.
Major 'Doc' Harry Smith's digitally-designed, camouflage-pattern pants and tan boots glided down the hallway in front of her. She assumed that he was wearing his usual green t-shirt and desert-style blouse or whatever those Marines called their over shirts. The 45 year-old doctor would have his sleeves rolled up, and his brown hair in a crew cut like most of the rest of the military men on the mission.
Oh! she thought.
Under that Velcro patch, he does have nice, tight buns. Archana was right. And he has those really great, brown eyes, too. Whoops! Not supposed to think about those things.
The round dinner table sat in the very center of the bottom of the inflatable Hab. Chairs were not practical, so around it was a ring of Velcro on the floor where everyone anchored their rumps. Captain Curtis insisted on everyone not on duty in main control to be there for meals, and people sat according to rank, beginning with Doc to his left. Lt. Chang would follow next, but was on duty. Then there was a big space for Sergeant Godlumathakathi 'Gode' Zwelitini, an oversized engineer from South Africa. He was waiting across the room with a dish covering the meal he prepared. His uniform of brown, button-down shirt, plain, green fatigue pants, mesh utility belt and boots did not much seem like a waiter's, however.
Penny anchored herself in the next spot, waiting for the other Mission Specialist, Archana Ivanova, to place herself to the right of Curtis. Archana was late, as usual.
When she did come in, she wore only a pair of high, tight shorts, and a half shirt. Her jet-black hair was disheveled.
At least she wore a bra with that, or her girls would be running loose. She could use a tan, but I suppose I could, too. Wasn't Moldova near Transylvania? With skin as pale as that, you can see why some people thought of vampires.
Curtis cleared his throat. "Miss Ivanova, while I believe that the standards of the ESA program are not as strict as the Royal Navy, I am sure that they understand the concept of dressing for dinner."
Her brown eyes were bloodshot. Her thick, Slavic accent replied, "I was up all night and most of the day. NASA had a big upgrade for the recon drone controls they wanted me to upload and test. I only fell asleep about an hour ago."
Curtis frowned. "And why didn't you clear this with me? Changes to the duty log need to be approved."
She looked annoyed. "I didn't think a little thing like this needed to be, sorry, and I'm dressed. I didn't come to the table naked."
Time to change the subject. Penny stuck her bag of green leaves with red edges on the table. "I'd like you all to try this, it's super nutritious. It's a kind of like Inuit scurvy grass, full of vitamin C, and it grows well on sparse, wet soils high in the mountains, very cold resistant, and is supposed to be good in salads."
Doc took an acidic leaf from the bag and tried one. "Argh," he quipped. "I think I'll take the scurvy."
That broke the tension.
Penny frowned at him. "Ha. Ha. Mister smarty pants Marine. You know you need that nutrition."
Curtis cleared his throat. "Ok, settle down. Mr. Zwelitini, you had the duty. What have you prepared for us?"
Gode answered in a voice almost as large and deep as his body. "You are all in for a surprise. Hopefully, my grandfather will forgive me, god rest his soul, for cooking, but this is a dish my grandmother used to make. They were Zulu, you know, and it was very shameful for a man to cook in those days. This is
Inkuku yasekya nama qeselengwane, which translates as chicken with mealy dumplings."
He set the dish in the center of the table and removed the cover.
Penny gasped. "Oh, wow! It smells like chicken! Real, live, fresh chicken. It even looks like real cooking instead of something reconstituted in bags!"
Archana said, "That looks like a dish we make back home! I like the topography on the surface crust."
Doc laughed. "Leave it to a geologist to like food topography."
She stuck out her tongue at him. "When one has to protect their girlish figure, one has to pay attention to their food, instead of just inhaling it like some people."
Doc stuck out his tongue back. Penny giggled.
Curtis rapped on the table. "Gode, did you break open the surface supplies? Where did you get all the flour?"
Gode smiled. "Flour is light, and easy to add to your personal allotment. As for the rest, I had to make some substitutions. You may just want to keep believing it's chicken before you begin."
Everyone groaned.
Archana grumbled, "I say to hell with the mission rules and we start spinning the ship for long enough to cook a real meal under real gravity just once."
Penny said, "But that might kill some of the special seed stocks we're germinating for transplant, and really screw up the algae air purification system."
Gode added, "And don't forget about what a mess it would cause in the head. It was built for microgravity, not the real thing."
Curtis said, "Sorry, but you'll have to wait until we land. Maybe by the next trip they'll have all the logistics figured out to give partial gravity the whole way. This trip is all about just getting there and learning what we can about--"
"ALERT!" Chang's voice called ship-wide.
"EMERGENCY! Medical emergency, Aphelion Two!"
Curtis sprang from the table, punching the intercom. "Report!"
"Captain, report of astronaut down on Aphelion Two! It's Dunsirn. Serious injury on EVA."
Doc pushed next to Curtis. "What's wrong with her? Are they saying?"
"No," Chang said. "Just the initial report. They're not answering."
Curtis swore. "Chang, can you get their feeds? I want to see what's going on over there."
"Negative, their dishes are pointed away from us right now."
Gode snapped his fingers. "Captain, I can get you on their intercom."
Penny asked, "You can?"
Gode nodded, already in motion to the computer on the other side of the room. "I'm not just a pretty face."
Curtis glanced at the big TV screen. "If only we could see what was going on!"
Archana cursed.
"Meu Dumnezeu! I know how to get an image!"
Penny couldn't understand. "You can? How?"
Archana swam to the closest terminal just outside the hatchway. "A rover ball! I have all the frequencies in case Barnes' equipment broke down! Their storage isn't far from the airlock."
Penny knew that along with two large robotic rovers, a flying reconnaissance drone, and an exploration vehicle, all of which were already waiting for them on Mars at the 'Port Arthur' Base, each ship carried a big bag full of rover balls. They were a low-cost alternative, pool-ball sized spheres. The mechanism inside rolled inside the ball, spinning the outer shell across the Martian surface until the batteries died. A small window in the shell allowed a miniature camera to take snapshots or video.
A few seconds later, an image of black lumps appeared on the TV screen. The image jostled. Archana's voice called out, "Got to get it out of the bag! Come on. Come on. Yes!"
The image spun as the black ball rolled out of the bag and into the open air toward a wall. Once there, it stuck, then began rolling toward the doorway.
"Hurry up!" Doc gnawed his fingernails. "I gotta see."
"I'm doing it, dammit. There's a nine second delay. It makes it hard to control."
"Gode," Curtis barked. "Report! How long?"
Gode frowned. "Almost there... You should hear their audio
now!"
There was practically a cacophony. Voices overlapped, some shouting.
Get that damn helmet off her!
Oxygen! No, the small-bore catheter! Pump that!
Takuya! 2 large-bore IVs! Dextran! Get it going!
Oh, God!
Get a clamp on that! Jesus!
Helga! Intubation kit!
I'm trying!
Suction! Now!
The scene rolled into view.
Ophelia was horizontal in her spacesuit. Her mangled helmet spun in the air nearby. Another spacesuit stood alongside, Mac's. He held her in place while Doctor Jandrain tried to stop her bleeding that spilled into the open air. His plain, olive drab uniform was covered in blood. Barnes was next to him, pumping a handheld air tank that he had hooked into the tubes stuck down her throat. His jeans and t-shirt were soaked red, too. Helga floated in her sand-colored fatigues just to the side, holding the portable suction that was trying to empty the blood from Ophelia's lungs. Tak floated nearby in his desert camouflage, looking helpless, next to the IV infuser pack.
Penny felt her mouth go dry, and she bit her lip, hard.
Gode called out. "Got you on, Captain!"
"This is Captain Curtis! What happened over there?"
After about twenty seconds, Mac spun, looking around. "Explosion outside! Blew through her helmet! I think the self-seal closed it back off, but she tasted vacuum for sure... How the hell are you talking to me?"
Curtis answered, "That was Gode. Hold her steady, man!"
They saw the crew on the monitor, still working, but they didn't answer.
"Damn the time delay!" Doc forced himself in front of the intercom. "Tak! This is Doctor Smith! There's a rover ball by the hatchway. Grab it and bring me close enough so I can see the laceration! I'm a surgeon!"
Eventually, Jandrain glanced at the ball in Tak's hand with obvious worry. "Help me out, Harry! This is more your specialty."
"Its ok, Chandra, I'm here to help."
Even to uninitiated eyes, it was bad. Doc started giving instructions to Jandrain as fast as the other physician could follow them. The delay in communications was maddening.
Gode punched some keys. "Tak, this is Gode. Give Helga the ball and seal the room! Then increase pressure to 3 ATA and reduce the temp! "
Doc barked, "Tak! Get the defibrillator, too! We have to watch the cardiac contractility. C'mon, move it, Airman! Chandra, she'll need Propentofylline."
Gode muttered. "They forgot all about the ebullism protocol."
Curtis added, "I hope she took her EVA pretreatment drugs."
Penny thought,
Someone should pray for her.
She whispered over and over, "Please let her be ok. Please make her ok."
Eventually, the flood of orders from the physicians slowed and it grew quiet. Chandra asked, "What do you think, Harry?"
Doc grunted. "That vitals readout is right?"
"It seems to be."
"We'll have to watch her round the clock for a while, but I think she just might make it."
Penny practically collapsed in front of the screen. "Thank God."
Mac added, "Amen to that."
Curtis sighed. "Ok, Mac, I'm sure Doctor Smith here will stay on the line, but you'd best start getting her set up in the airlock and follow the protocol. I'll give Mission Control the brief and send all the video we have. That should let you all catch your breath before having to answer ten thousand questions. Damn fine work getting her inside in time, and both you doctors deserve commendations for the job you've done."
Mac said, "Thanks, Alex. And thank all of you."
[align=center]***[/align]
Aphelion Two, Four hours later.
"Ophelia? C'mon, wake up, sailor." Mac sounded worried.
Ophelia's eyes struggled to open as she lay strapped on the cold makeshift table in her blued, camouflage pants and navy blue t-shirt. Dr. Chandra Jandrain's Indian Army uniform floated over the top of her face with Macridin's round features sticking out behind him.
She asked, "What happened to your uniform, Chandra? It's got blood all over it."
Chandra looked relieved. "That's from you, I'm afraid. How are you feeling?"
"Why won't my arms move? What's wrong with the right side of my face? It feels numb."
Chandra quoted Buddha. "'Strong and healthy, who thinks of sickness until it strikes like lightning?'" He frowned. "No doubt your arms will regain some measure of movement when more of the swelling near your spinal cord goes down. I am sure the hundred doctors Mission Control has working on your results will know more than I."
"What?! Why am I in the airlock?"
"You're in the airlock for hyperbaric therapy, and you will stay here for a few weeks."
Mac leaned in. "One of the units in that panel exploded. Shot right through your helmet into your face and neck. By the time I could get you back in, you were pretty damn close to dead."
"How bad is it?"
Chandra glanced at the Commander, but then put on a calm expression. "We will know better about it after we've run tests, but I have no doubt there will be significant scarring. Doctor Smith was online with me and we did everything we could to contain the damage."
Ophelia swallowed hard, and it hurt. "I want to see it."
Mac shook his head. "I don't think you want to do that just yet."
"Mac, I deserve to know."
The two men looked at each other.
Chandra said, "Her dressing needs to be changed anyway."
Mac sighed. "All right, but look, Ophelia, it was a miracle you survived the explosion at all, another miracle I got you in before you asphyxiated, and an even bigger miracle you didn't bleed out, you know."
Mac held the mirror and Ophelia felt the bandages pull on her skin as they came off. A wide, jagged gash, held together by a swath of stitches started high on her right cheek and ran down to the nape of her neck. Her skin was bruised, like she had a hickie all over her face. The whites of her eyes were bright red from Petechial hemorrhage.
"My God."
I'll be known as the hideous, ugly cripple that went to Mars.
Her whole career passed in front of her eyes, from basic to flight school to the competition to be the Navy's representative on the mission. In the end Ophelia always believed she was chosen over the others because her face made for a better photo op.
Chandra looked down. "I am afraid Doctor Smith is the true surgeon of the mission. My skills pale in comparison."
Mac asked, "Do you remember anything about the accident?"
She paused. "I remember... I remember a flash, then something felt like it was boiling in my mouth."
Mac nodded. "Probably the water on your tongue."
"Do they know what caused explosion?"
Mac sighed again. "Yes."
[align=center]***[/align]
Aphelion Two, Day 54
"Sid? You ok?"
Barnes looked up at Ophelia. "Huh?"
He sat to her side, his rear anchored on the floor of the airlock. She lay strapped on the table, slid into a sleeping bag to help keep warm.
Even wounded and unable to move, she has more grace and dignity than me. My jeans have holes in them, and my shirt isn't very clean.
She smiled. "What were you thinking about?"
Honestly, I was thinking about how you look naked. "Gumballs."
She laughed in that way of hers, that way that made him want to be near her. Even with that scar, she always seemed more like the belle of the ball instead of an ace pilot who killed men in dogfights and dropped bombs on Islamabad. "Gumballs? Why would you think about that?"
He shrugged and pushed his round glasses back up on his nose. "C'mon, don't you miss gumballs? Those half-hard ones in the machines in practically every small business entrance across the country? That's as American as apple pie and hot dogs. Sponsored by American Legions and VFWs, just ready and waiting there to give innocent children their first taste of really bad, five-year old gum. That's home, that is."
He gave her his best toothy smile and her eyes twinkled. She laughed again. He wanted so badly to kiss her.
"How do you do it?" he asked.
"Do what?"
"Cope with being stuck in here, on that table. Waiting for Helga to come in and change your clothes and wipe your butt. Helga, of all people."
"And what else can I do?"
"Let me help take care of you. I've already seen you naked, remember?"
She paused. "That was a long time ago. We're different people now. I think we had to be after that. It's enough that you come spend time with me."
"Why?"
Her smile was back. "Because you make me laugh and feel good. Like I'm still a real person."
I'm such a heel. She's opening up about how she feels and what it's like to be paralyzed. I just wanted to jump her bones again.
The hatch banged open, and Helga floated in. "Well, how is the lump today? Ready for your bath?"
Damn that woman, and her attitude. "I guess that's my cue for an exit." He paused and touched Ophelia on her undamaged cheek. "I'll be back every day, and I'll do my best to make sure you feel real."
Helga snorted. "Feel really like a lump, you mean!"
Barnes said, "You're such a bitch, Helga."
"Bitch, eh?" Her eyes glared at him. "Oh, big talker. You're not the one who has to take care of this lump day in and day out. Just hope you are never hurt and I have to take care of you."
He glared back. "You better hope the same about you."
Her muscles tensed, and he remembered she probably knew a dozen ways to kill him. He knew a dozen different ways to identify minerals in soil deposits. Her army trained her to be an efficient killing machine if necessary. He watched martial arts movies on TV.
Looking down, he said, "I'll see you later, O."
[align=center]***[/align]
Aphelion Two, Day 71
"You need to eat." Helga flourished the fork on the way to Ophelia's mouth. "C'mon, let the
Güterzug er, how do you say? 'Choo-choo' in. That's it."
"Drop dead."
That sand-colored uniform of hers reminds me of those Nazi brown shirts from World War Two. That blonde hair and blue eyes fits, too.
"Squid wimp. Your American Navy cannot produce sailors tougher than this?"
Ophelia's eyes narrowed to slits. "At least I'm smart enough not to switch on the electric heaters while a shipmate is working on the power line."
"You know about that?"
"Mac told me. Thanks to you, I'm always going to have this scar."
Helga broke the long, uncomfortable silence. "Ironic, is it not? You always thought you were so better than me, prettier than me, and now you are the one laying here like an ugly lump, dependent on me to keep you fed and alive. Who is the important one now?"
Ophelia spit in her face. "I don't know what Mac saw in you."
Helga smirked. "Everything he didn't see in you. I knew you wanted him, but my Peter would not have anything to do with a mutt like you."
Ophelia's eyes were like daggers. "When I can move again, I'm going to strangle you with my bare hands."
Helga laughed. "Ooo. Scary. Here, eat your mush, beauty queen."
She shoved in a fork full.
Ophelia gagged. It tasted like cream of wheat that had been cooked for a week straight. "What is this crap?"
"I believe it's called humble pie."
Ophelia's fist leapt up from the bed, connecting with Helga's chin. Ophelia stared, moving her hand in front of her face. Her other hand joined it.
Helga smiled warmly. "Chandra was right. I just needed to make you mad enough to get your connections working again."
Helga paused.
Tears welled in her eyes.
Her voice cracked. "Und I
am sorry about the heaters. Chandra didn't want me to tell you that, he said it was important I shouldn't seem ashamed, but it's why I insisted to Pete that I take care of you. I was so wrong. For weeks, it has been like a terrible weight on my shoulders, the guilt. Your face, it's my fault. You have the scar, but I feel the pain whenever I see it, too..."
Ophelia's face was flushed, mixed with anger and sorrow. Her hands drew back into fists. Ophelia wanted to hurt her, to make Helga's face feel like her own, but then Ophelia pulled Helga close and hugged her.
"I forgive you."
And I believe you didn't do it on purpose.
Helga didn't even try to stop crying.
[align=center]***[/align]
Aphelion One, Day 95
Gode watched Doc push the buttons on the remote. The Hab TV screen remained blank.
"Gode," Doc asked, "what the heck is wrong with this thing? It won't come on."
He sighed.
He's supposed to be my backup if things break, and he cannot fix a simple TV remote? "I thought you were supposed to adapt, achieve, and overcome. Did you check the batteries?"
Doc frowned at him. "Oh, some chief engineer you are, Sergeant. You can see it shows the channel on the screen every time I push the button. It's not the remote or the TV."
"Hmm."
Doc did a double take, sniffing the air. "Oh, is that
popcorn you're eating? Where did you get it? Can I have some?"
After a comment like that, like I would share my stash with the human food vacuum! Gode tossed the last buttery kernel in his mouth and then shook his head. "I'm sure an engineer as ineffective as me could not possibly know a way to have fresh popcorn whenever I wanted."
Doc glared at him. "Fine. I'll remember that when you're due for your next rectal exam."
Gode gave a deep, belly laugh. "Well, I don't keep it there, so I'm ok."
"Funny. Just fix the TV."
Gode heard Chang's voice from the hatchway, "That is not necessary."
Doc looked up at him. "How's that?"
Chang floated in. "Communications are blacked out."
He knows something. He has that look on his face. Gode asked, "What happened?"
"The Captain received an encoded, 'eyes only' message. I do not know what the message said, but right after reading that, the captain locked out all communications on both ships except for scrambled command channels. Mission control has been sending him messages almost non-stop since then."
Doc looked crestfallen. "But
All My Children comes on in ten minutes."
Gode couldn't help but chuckle to himself.
He may be the only Marine in the solar system hooked on a soap opera.
[align=center]***[/align]
"Please relax, Miss Ivanova." Curtis was himself not relaxed. Neither was Archana, who was trying unsuccessfully to float without fidgeting.
At least she's dressed this time, if you can call a purple sweat suit dressed. "You have my word that this conversation is both completely confidential and quite necessary. Clear?"
"Yes, Captain!"
"I know you have certain access to, how shall I put it, hard to learn information? Despite our alliances, your
real sponsors are better at getting information on the American military than the British government is."
Archana's thick accent replied, "I'm sure I have no idea what the Captain is referring to."
"Nevertheless, I need to know something, and I think you know it. It's important to the mission. It's about Ophelia on Ap-One."
Archana frowned. "I thought she had resumed her duties. All better, apart from the tragic loss of her looks. Terrible facial scar."
Curtis sighed. "All that extra attention on her turned up something. Something I think you know about."
"Yes, Captain?"
"Tell me about Ophelia's pregnancy. Everything. I want facts, rumors, anything overheard and anything suspected. That's an order, or I'll throw your secret police arse into space."
"Sir?"
"Rover balls are not magnetic, at least not ones made for this mission. The only way one like that could be added to the inventory is if foreign agents put it there, and yet you knew how to use it perfectly. Shall I repeat the question, Mission Specialist?"
"No, sir!" Archana paused, collecting her thoughts. "I'm sure I just happened to see this someplace, perhaps lying on a table somewhere, but it was when she was a midshipman. I don't believe anyone knew who the father was. It has been speculated everyone from Admirals and Commodores to even one of their pizza delivery drivers. There was a report that she asked for a morning after pill from an infirmary, so she might have been raped. Regardless, she became pregnant and gave the boy up for adoption."
"Damn." Curtis made a note to demand Ophelia's official Navy medical records. "Miss Ivanova, I'm never going to tell anyone how I came by this information, but if I ever see one of your little surveillance balls watching me, you will know what vacuum is like first hand, too, but no one will be there to bring you back in. Is that understood?"
She smiled as if unafraid. "I can promise the Captain would never catch me watching."
"Dismissed."
[align=center]***[/align]
Aphelion Two, 30 minutes later.
". . .
Sidney Barnes? You gotta be outta your mind, Alex. Ophelia may not be a hundred percent yet, but she could still take out a Navy Seal with her bare hands, and Barnes couldn't take my eight-year old niece. That's gotta be a mistake. I don't care if he was based at Annapolis at the time. What's more, Barnes is a member of this crew, and she'd never attack a shipmate. She didn't even hurt Helga after she caused that panel to blow and nearly kill her. It's not the way she's wired. One hundred percent for the mission, all the time. You're the mission commander, but I'm telling you, I think locking them both up is the wrong call. Over."
Mac released the transmit button and cued up the news clip Curtis forwarded to him on the laserlink. He had at least sixty seconds before he received and decoded a response from Ap-One.
It was a TurnerFOX[sup]TM[/sup] International Report. They had "Space Sex: Mars Scandal" in big letters across the bottom of the image. Two stock headshots split the screen. One was an excellent, professional shot of a bespectacled young man, pale and gaunt, with thinning blond hair and a toothy smile. The other didn't have to be one of the promotion department's best works to show a striking woman. She was the sort of beauty men would cross the room just to be near, let alone talk to. Of course, she wouldn't care what they might have said; Ophelia only focused on the mission.
". . .
has now confirmed that medical genetic testing done on all the Mars crews and their families prior to launch has indicated that geologist Sidney Barnes, one of only three civilians on the mission, is the biological father of Lieutenant-Commander Ophelia Dunsirn's illegitimate child who was born while she attended the Naval Academy. . ."
Curtis also sent over the Navy's complete medical records on her, which Mac knew normally took a couple hours to dig up. Impossible as it seemed, the records backed what Curtis was saying.
"Curtis to Macridin. Commander, I understand your concerns, but just go and put Barnes in your main control until further notice. No explanation, but then he won't be left alone. That's a direct order. Get Ophelia in your office for a little group chat. Blackout continues until we sort this out. Over and out."
Mac got as far as the Hab before a battering squall of angry Japanese flew his way.
The rough smell of exertion assaulted his senses as the entered. Takuya floated in the center of the module, bungied to both the floor and ceiling. Beads of sweat covered his face, and he had wet patches all over his plain, desert camouflage uniform. On his hands were virtual reality gloves. Matching booties covered his feet. The TV screen was showing a martial arts video game, with the words CONNECTION RE-ESTABLISHED over the top.
Tak asked, "Commander, what is going on? It was the final round! I was disqualified! The game moved on without me!"
Mac's brow furrowed. "There is a Level One security blackout. How did you re-connect?"
Tak shrugged. "I changed the input to the education laserlink that I built as a part of the schoolroom initiative."
Mac swore to himself. He knew about that one, but just forgot.
How many other ways will the crew find around the blackout? They're smart people.
He turned off the screen. "A blackout is an order, Airman 1st Class Watanabe. No contact, in or out, so I don't want to hear about a radio you built to listen to NPR, or anything like that, understood? Disable the link and any other non-standard communications."
Tak nodded. "Yes, Commander!"
Mac paused. "Who were you playing against, and how were you doing it with the communications delay?"
Tak grinned. "It was the communications chief on the ISS. The interplanetary internet protocols gather the moves and batch send them. As a part of the game, you make moves predicting what your opponent will do. Then, the parts play out simultaneously on both ends of the transmission. Depending on what you do and the skill of your delivery, one player will score better, and be awarded the round. This version scores Karate."
Mac reminded himself not to spar with Tak, or to try any video games against him. He got too much practice. "Well, you'll have to play in practice mode until the blackout is lifted."
Tak smiled even bigger. "Yes, Commander!"
[align=center]***[/align]
According to the duty log, Barnes was supposed to be back with all his surface exploration gear in the tail end of the service module, but when Mac neared the hatchway a bloody hand reached out through the opening and punched the intercom.
Ophelia's voice echoed throughout the ship.
"MEDICAL EMERGENCY IN AFT-FIVE-C. REPEAT. MEDICAL EMERGENCY IN AFT-FIVE-C. WE HAVE A MAN DOWN. NO PULSE, RESPIRATION ZERO."
She saw Mac when she let go of the button. "We need Chandra
now."
[align=center]***[/align]
Aphelion One, Three hours later.
Curtis sat alone in main control, angrily drumming his fingers on the smooth console. He turned off most of the monitors, the incoming sound, and the outgoing video feed to mission control and stared at the geologist's biographical information on the screen. Darkness and silence seemed more fitting.
I hate doing these things. I hated every one I ever did, but the I'm mission commander. It's my duty to his family... Mac would do this for my wife, sons, and their families if it were me.
Punching a couple keys, he began recording a video message.
[align=center]***[/align]
The scene around the dinner table was quiet. No one even turned on the TV screen, to see if it was working yet.
Penny's eyes were red, and she sniffled a lot.
Archana toyed with the shrimp cocktail pieces in her bag, uninterested.
Chang just stared at the table.
Even Doc's legendary appetite was missing.
Gode tried to be philosophical about it, and he reminded them all that Sidney was their friend. They had all trained with him, spent time with him.
No one wanted to discuss it, but deep down, they knew it could happen to all of them twenty different ways on any given day.
[align=center]***[/align]
Aphelion Two, Day 96
Mac stabbed his finger on the send button. "You saw the orders as well as I did. We'll store him outside until we orbit, then bury him after we've landed. Look, Captain, all due respect, but Ophelia's still a member of my crew you know, and she
will be there, not locked up. If she didn't do it, I want them all at the funeral where I can see their faces. Mac over and out."
And stop calling every two hours! I'll put my own house in order.
[align=center]***[/align]
Barnes floated in his spacesuit in the center of the Hab module, tethered to Takuya's video game bungies. They hadn't known where else to keep him. The crew waited on the far end of the room. None of them seemed broken up. Tak and he were supposed to be pals, always playing games against each other. Chandra wouldn't answer his questions at all, but instead stared at him like one of the monks from his country. Hell, his wife Helga wanted to use his body as fertilizer on her damn plants. Burying him offended her German sense of efficiency.
Ophelia wasn't anywhere near them.
No one wanted to meet his eye,
except her. Ophelia's eyes blazed, no doubt due to the zip ties binding her hands and feet.
Mac cleared his throat. "A body doesn't belong in here."
Takuya looked up, puzzled.
"This room is where we eat, where we gather, where we exercise, and where we watch TV. This place is the heart of our home here, a place of life."
Helga watched him now, too.
"But Sidney Barnes is dead. He can't eat with us here. He can't exercise, can't watch that damn soap opera. But he can gather with us one more time, so we can all hear how he was
murdered."
He could have heard a pin drop, if pins could have been dropped there.
"Sidney Barnes bled to death after a thin object was stabbed into his chest until it almost came out of his back, but not before it
ripped a hole right through his heart."
Chandra closed his eyes at the mention of the stabbing, but that could have been his opinion as a physician. Ophelia stared defiantly.
"Somebody in this room did this." He tilted the body so they'd have to look at the face. Mac floated beside the body, his face next to Barnes'.
"Someone here murdered this man."
He paused, studying the faces. His wife looked uneasy, maybe annoyed. Takuya looked shocked. Chandra watched the faces around him, his expression blank.
Mac continued. "I'm going to tell you all a secret. Barnes here had a kid."
Ophelia looked at the floor. Mac floated over. Softly, he asked, "It was a boy, eh?"
She nodded.
"What did they name him?"
"Achmed."
Takuya asked, "Why are you asking her?"
"The blackout is because of their child. Earth is calling it a sex scandal. They didn't want you to see the newscasts."
Mac moved close, and took her hands. "Look at me. Did he rape you? Is that how you got pregnant? You have to tell me."
Her eyes were brown pools. "No."
Helga's tone was sharp. "What does this have to do with Barnes' death? Where are you going with this?"
"Rape is a good motive for murder, dear."
Their faces were all confusion, nothing else.
He turned back to Ophelia. "How'd you get pregnant, then? The Navy reports said you showed up at the hospital all banged up."
She shook her head. "No. SERE wilderness survival training. We did a drop on a moonless night and I landed blind in a rapids. I was beat and scratched to hell by the time I got out of that river. When we got back, I had liberty. I was blowing off steam in this quiet bar across town and saw Sidney. He always made me laugh. I--we both drank too much."
"Why all the secrecy?"
She sighed. "My mother was born in Pakistan. She's very traditional. You know what it was like before we invaded. I didn't want her to know. It was hard enough for her to accept the life I chose."
Ophelia continued, "But my sister and her husband couldn't have children. I made sure they adopted him, raised him as their own. Achmed was our grandfather's name."
He looked directly into her eyes. "Did you kill Barnes?"
"No. I was duty officer that shift but I was supposed to do an interview for
Good Morning America at 03:00, so Sidney was going to relieve me at 02:00 so I had time to clean up for TV. He didn't show. I went looking for him."
Mac paused.
"I have direct orders not to do this until some formal inquiry back on earth." He cut Ophelia loose. "But they can kiss my ass. This is my command."
Mac said to the rest of them, "That leaves one of you as prime suspect."
Chandra shook his head as if disappointed. Takuya howled in loud Japanese. Helga glared at him dangerously.
[align=center]***[/align]
"Commander." Chandra was at his door.
"Doctor."
"You must use patience. 'Be patient for one moment, and the wind and waves will calm down. Take one step back, and you will discover the vastness of the ocean and the emptiness of the sky. All will be revealed, in time.'" Chandra nodded at him, then moved down the corridor.
"Thanks, Doctor."
Whatever the heck that meant.
Mac closed the door of his quarters. He couldn't just lock them all up. They needed to do their jobs, but he could give Curtis something.
He punched up the secure laserlink. "Macridin to Curtis. Doctor Jandrain is my chief suspect. Over and out."
He took out a tab of Windsor whiskey and squeezed it dry. The burn in his mouth felt good, and took his mind off Barnes. A few minutes later, Ophelia knocked and floated in.
"Mac," she said, "I know you read the 'eyes only' message for Curtis ten minutes before the blackout. I saw what you did."
"What're you talking aboot?"
"Sidney was recording segments for National Geographic before the blackout. Outgoing data gets held in the temporary queue until it's
copied into the send queue. Send is erased by the blackout protocol, but until new data writes over it, it's still in the temp queue."
Mac frowned. "Barnes' thesis was aboot canceling the effects of alcohol before it's absorbed. Don't you see? That bastard was sober when he slept with you. He took advantage of you. Kissed you. Touched you.
Used you. It wasn't right."
Swallowing, he continued, "Not after you almost died. Looking into your eyes while Chandra worked on you, seeing how hard you worked, just to live, to move your arms, then to get back into shape... I--I couldn't live with knowing what he did to you. It was a wrong against all that is just and right in life."
She put her hands on her hips. "That night, I knew Sidney wasn't drunk. That was for me, not for him. Look, I know why you really did this, but it can't happen like that. It won't."
Mac exhaled slowly. "What are you going to do?"
Ophelia paused. "The mission is more important. The ship can't function with only four crewmen, and needs a commander. Report it as an accidental death." She stopped in the doorway. "Even with his faults, Sid was a better man than you. After this mission is over, the truth needs to come out. You have to tell Helga how you killed a man over another woman."
Mac watched her disappear down the corridor.
He thought,
I figured I would feel guilty, but I don't. I thought it was going to be harder to kill someone, but it wasn't hard at all. It was so easy. Anybody could do it. All they need is a reason.
Ophelia's words echoed in his head, "After this mission is over... You have to tell Helga."
He rubbed his chin.
By then, you will have forgiven me, and what Helga thinks won't matter any more.
He smiled.
'Till death do us part.
[align=center]
The End [/align]
A special thanks to Dan, Bill, & Casey for their help in creating this opportunity.
November 01, 2008, 11:35:49 AM 
