ARIA (26 page)

“Who with? There’s no mission control to guide us,” she said.

“With you. We have issues to sort out and I will communicate what we’ve found, with cam shots, to both Ryder and Charlotte. They might have ideas too.”

Jena pouted, but her intelligence told her she couldn’t go round shouting and behaving like a spoilt child in such a confined environment. They were in a crucible and had to prevent boiling over. He was so clever, that Dan. He knew she’d know to cool down, compose herself, so they could all get on with the job in hand.

U
NTOUCHED
BY
HUMAN
HAND
, and having shown no hostile intentions via radiation or other emanations, the case was stored in a sealed section of the
Marimar’s
cargo bay. But Jena hadn’t finished fighting as the crew prepared for another strategy meeting.

She regretted losing her rag with Dan over the case, and she damned Antonio for being right about stress affecting her stability.

Last to take a seat at their oval, aluminium dining table with only just room for their NoteComs, she budged up Vlad so she could sit next to Dan. She reasoned that she would appear less confrontational if she didn’t sit opposite him.

Dan opened. “The computer is waiting for us to tell it which landing site we are to aim for in order to calculate the optimum re-entry point. Whether we select North Wales, Western Australia, or a desert island—one with an airfield and some survival possibilities—we can be away within two hours.”

“Or not,” Jena said.

Abdul waved exasperated hands in the air. “Last time it was you who was ready to fight us to return.”

“Yeah, well, I still had hopes my folks would be around uninfected. Now that isn’t likely, there’s even more an argument for staying up here out of harm’s way for as long as possible.”

Antonio wagged a finger. “But that is exactly the problem, Jena. It is not possible for us to stay longer. Our stores of food, water, and air as well as spare equipment are dangerously low.”

“That’s because we haven’t tried hard enough with the environment extension programme.” She put her elbows on the table and continued. “I’ve worked out a much more efficient water re-cycling program, which makes use of solar electrolysis apparatus not yet used.”

“It’s untried out here,” Abdul said.

“And the same equipment can generate more air, plus we can get away with a lower percentage of oxygen—even two percent less would add a week. As for food—”

Antonio interrupted, “Are you hanging onto the optimistic possibility of ARIA losing its virility before we return?”

Vlad said, “Wouldn’t it be ironic if that second case needs to be opened to do just that?”

“That could always be an option later,” Jena said. “Whereas, if we leave now, we commit ourselves irrevocably to becoming infected within days of landing.”

“Not if we are careful where we land,” Antonio said.

“Then there is the bigger picture,” Jena said. “We may be humanity’s only chance of surviving ARIA. We have a duty to stay uninfected and use our communication skills to co-ordinate research and survivors down there.” She tried to stop smiling at her clincher, but her mouth gave her away.

Abdul wasn’t taken in. “Personally, I don’t want to be gasping for breath at the last minute. I’d rather have some leeway with somewhere to come back to.”

Vlad laughed. “Abdul, my friend, once we leave this station, we won’t be coming back.”

“At least not once we re-enter Earth’s atmosphere. We have barely enough fuel to have full choice of a landing spot as it is,” said Dan. “However, Jena has a point. But not hoping for ARIA to die out. If the case does have an antidote, it would be irresponsible to delay using it, and for all we know, it has a shelf life of days and will be useless by next week. Her worthier point is that the case is more than just us. We must get it to people who can do something useful with it. To me, that only leaves us going to Ryder in North Wales. They have lab facilities and infection-free people who know how to use it. Anyone with a stronger argument for Charlotte in Western Australia?”

Antonio spoke up. “Charlotte is the only person on the planet who appears to have been exposed to ARIA yet not infected herself. This makes her both very interesting and a potential salvation.”

Abdul said, “After talking to her more than you guys. Oh shut up. It’s possible the girl she met might not have had ARIA.”

Charlotte’s plight tugged at Jena, but she was afraid to say too much, considering her appalling success rate in winning recent arguments. “So you’re saying she isn’t immune to ARIA, just lucky. That’s mean.”

Dan patted her hand. She glowered at him.

“I’m not writing her off as a possible medical breakthrough,” Dan said, “but there would be no point landing there. We’d have landing co-ordinates, and there’s a long runway but no lab facilities, and we might attract attention from demented or desperate people.”

“Allah,” Abdul said, “that could happen wherever we land. They might attack us thinking we’re the alien perpetrators of this madness.”

Antonio prodded a finger at his temple. “It isn’t madness, just a loss of memory. People still have all their other mental faculties although I admit that as time passes, intelligence will suffer. And I suppose with the confusion and loss of livelihood, starvation, seeing death, knowing that they must have loved ones but not how—
si
, they would see it as madness...”

“Thank you, Antonio,” Abdul said. “Lady and gentlemen, a miracle has just occurred. Our doctor has admitted an error.” Even Jena joined in the tension-easing laughter.

“So,” Dan said, “we land at an airfield as close to Ryder’s centre as he suggests. We’ll take advisement from him as to the local situation and then as to whether to land at night and so forth. Vlad, update the computer for a selection of re-entry windows, bearing in mind our approximate destination. I’ll get onto Ryder. Jena, let Charlotte know what we’re up to and let her know we will keep in touch. Be positive and encouraging—as if I need to say.”

Tuesday 15 September 2015:

Anafon Study Centre, North Wales, twenty-two weeks since the start of ARIA. Most people would have lost twenty-two years of memory.

“N
O
. N
O
WAY
!”
SHOUTED
B
RIAN
, his blond, overgrown crew cut bristling like a toilet brush.

Bronwyn agreed. “Five astronauts? Five more mouths to feed. That’ll deplete our food. I’m not cooking for five strangers.”

Ryder fought back a wry smile. These two remained as cantankerous, yet supportive of each other, as they were before their absconding attempt and Bronwyn’s gunshot wound.

Derek patted Bronwyn’s hand. “And just them landing nearby and us leaving our perimeter to fetch them makes us much more likely to come across ARIA.”

“Objections noted,” Ryder said. “But it’s going to happen; it has to. And with careful planning, we’ll minimise the chances of ARIA coming back here. One thing we know for sure is that none of the ISS crewmembers have it. But there are other reasons why we should welcome them.”

Bronwyn clenched a fist at him. “So, you are going to ignore our wishes, yet again.”

“Remember,” Ryder continued, “they were five of the planet’s brightest people before they left Earth, and Antonio is a first-class physician.”

“Even his skills are useless against ARIA,” Derek said.

“There’s something Ryder hasn’t told you, yet,” Teresa said to the group. Then to Ryder, “Isn’t there, dear?” Brian and Bronwyn lowered their eyebrows with suspicion at Ryder while the rest raised theirs in interest. The teenager, Megan, sat farther back, plugged into her personal stereo. Ryder glared at Teresa, he anticipated some hostility to the notion of the arrival of the alien case and hoped to concentrate on the benefits of the ISS crew joining them.

“Thanks, dear. Yes, another case appeared on the space station.” Gasps from the biology technicians showed they saw first the significance of the new development and the implications if opened in their presence.

Laurette butted in. “So, the crew might not be free of ARIA after all?”

“That isn’t what I’m saying at all,” Ryder said, fighting impatience at people who wouldn’t let him finish. “Like the first one, they haven’t opened it. It’s sealed in the
Marimar’s
cargo hold. No decision has been made what to do with it and won’t be until it arrives here.”

“This gets bloody better by the minute,” shouted Brian. “You are allowing strangers to bring ARIA to us for certain.”

Gustav, as a bio technician, possessed more foresight. “It could be our salvation, Brian. There would be little point in the aliens sending a duplicate virus when the first has done such a thoroughly devastating job.”

Bronwyn looked confused. “I dunno how you can say that. We might not be the only uninfected. There must be loads of isolated communities. Suppose the second case is just to make sure.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Ryder said. “Unless Brian and Bronwyn, as locals, know any better, the maps show me that the nearest airfield with a long-enough runway for
Marimar
to land is at Hawarden near Chester, fifty miles away.” He waited for the two to acknowledge.

After a long pause, Brian said, “Hawarden’s runway will be long enough. It’s private though, no commercial flights.”

“All the better. I don’t suppose there would be anyone there now,” Ryder said.

Bronwyn said, “Wouldn’t it be better for it to land on a straight bit of beach closer to here? Fifty miles mightn’t sound so far, but it could be dodgy.”

“They considered that, Bronwyn,” Ryder said. “Always dangerous to land on a beach, especially at night. Then there are other advantages to landing at a proper airfield.”

“It can’t refuel and take off again once it’s buried itself on a beach,” Teresa said.

“Exactly,” Ryder said. “So are there other airfields closer than Chester?”

“RAF Valley might be closer, but you’d have to cross to Anglesey over the bridge with all the dangers of getting trapped, see,” Brian said.

“And it’s a military installation so it’s harder to get into and just might have people there,” Bronwyn said.

“Other airfields are too small for the
Marimar
,” Brian said. “How are you going to get there and back without running into infected people?”

“Okay, so we have decided on Hawarden Airfield,” Ryder said. “There’s at least three road routes.”

Brian scowled. “I assume you mean the coast road, the A55 dual carriageway, and a country-lane route. And there’s no democratic vote on which is the best airfield? Again.”

“We think the coast road might be best since there might be roadblocks, manned or otherwise, on the dual carriageway,” Derek said.

“You must be kidding,” said Brian, laughing at them. “The coast road goes through all the coastal resorts, including campsites—and I mean thousands of caravans.”

“Ah,” said Derek, “but ARIA will have cut the numbers down. I know it’s sad, but we’re talking twenty years of memory loss and most of the caravans wouldn’t have started their holiday season back in April.”

“It’s a good job you have local people here then, isn’t it?” said a smug Brian, exaggerating his melodic Welsh accent. “Where do all the old people go to retire?”

“Eastbourne,” Derek said.

“And?”

“All right, Rhyl and the other North Wales resorts,” said Ryder. “And being ancient, losing twenty years to them isn’t going to count for much...”

“...compared to middle-aged and younger people,” said Derek. “So we avoid the coast road.”

“And avoid the gangs of pensioners,” said Bronwyn with a smirk.

“Let’s just have a thought for those pensioners,” said Teresa. “Most would have been on medication, all gone. So the diabetics, heart conditions, anaemia, kidney problems, hypertension, those prone to infections, Parkinson’s...”

“We get the grim picture,” said Ryder. “No swarms of geriatrics except fit ones and there’s not many of those. Even so, we should avoid the coast road. How about the country lanes. I suppose there’s a problem there too, Brian?”

“Only that the lanes wriggle a lot ’cos they visit every sodding village and town. Do you want that? And then they are just tractor width in places and so might be blocked by accidents, abandoned, manned roadblocks, or trees that fell in the last five months.”

Derek stood to get a drink. “Let’s consider this roadblock idea. How would a group remember that they manned a roadblock the previous day? They wouldn’t, unless they wrote each other memory-aid notes and stuck them on each other’s foreheads. I suppose they might each wake up, realize they are hungry, wander outside, and find each other. In the conversation about what the hell’s going on, they might suggest highway robbery. Some would be well brought up and resist that action, so time would be spent arguing.”

“So if there are any roadblocks they are unlikely to be manned in the mornings,” Ryder said.

“But they could go on through these long summer evenings into the night,” Brian said. “Making very early morning, say three, a good time to move around.”