Arrival (47 page)

The ape-like creature stuck its head back over the edge, bellowing an angry discourse at Jack for his behavior.

“Fine, do what you want!” Jack resigned as he plopped down onto the snow next to his dead friend. “You want to come down here and eat me? That’s fine.” Jack’s gaze was fixed on Will’s mangled face. “You want to go home and lick your wounds? Well’s that’s fine too.”

All life rapidly drained from Jack’s soul as he sat there staring at Will. And just as suddenly as it had appeared, the ape-like creature was gone again.

* * *

“It’s obvious that whatever is infecting us is airborne,” Maria said at the wardroom table in the morning.

“Have you…?” Lynn looked at Maria.

“Yes,” Maria responded to Lynn’s inquiry. “Since this morning.”

Lynn suddenly felt her spirits drop even lower. Maria was their only hope, and now she was infected as well.

Maria took Lynn’s arm and pulled her around the corner, away from the others. “Lynn, we have a tough decision to make.”

Lynn looked at her blankly.

“I’ve made almost no progress in finding a way to fight this thing, let alone curing it. Mainly, because most of my time is spent caring for the crew…”

“Adia and I are doing all we can to help,” Lynn insisted.

“I know, but it’s not enough. At the rate this thing is progressing, in a few days, I’m going to be too sick to do anything at all. I think we need to consider putting everyone into RMS.”

“What?”

“Reduced metabolic stasis,” Maria explained. “It was developed on the Daedalus about thirty years ago, during the ag crisis. They were hoping to use it to put half the ship’s population into stasis to reduce the demand of ship consumables.”

“Yeah, but they didn’t use it. And if I remember correctly, it was because there were problems with it.”

“Yes. Some of the rabbits they tested it on suffered brain damage when they were brought out of stasis.”

“And you want to use
that
on us?” Lynn said in horror. “I thought they canceled the entire experiment?”

“Not exactly. They just chose not to use it. But they did continue the experiments, just in case.”

“And they made it safe?”

“Well, for the most part. But there are still some risks involved.”

“And you have some of this stuff on board?”

“Yes. We brought some along, just in case,” Maria replied.

“And you think it’s the right thing to do?”

“I think it’s our only chance, Lynn. However, because of the risks, it requires agreement between the medical officer, and the mission commander. And that’s you.”

“What are the risks?”

“Neurological impairment, organ damage… Do you really want the list?”

“Jesus, Maria.” Lynn looked at her.

“It’s better than death,” Maria reminded her.

“Are you sure?” Lynn sighed again. “Isn’t there something else we can try?” she pleaded. “If it’s not transmitted from person to person, then it’s got to be in the environment, right? Maybe we can button up the ship, reduce our exposure, make some improvements to the bio-filters? There’s got to be something else we can try, first.”

“We’re already infected,” Maria reminded her. “At best, all those things might slow the progression, but sooner or later, unless we find a miracle, we will all die. RMS
is
our only hope.”

“May I have some time to think about it?”

“No,” Maria replied flatly. “Honestly, some of us don’t have much time left.”

* * *

That night, Jack dined alone for the first time in his life. He had been born and raised aboard a starship, where the only privacy you had was on the toilet. He grew up with children who lived all around him on every deck. He ate in mess halls with his fellow colonists. He trained with his friends and crewmates. Privacy was completely foreign to him, just as it was to everyone else he had ever known. Yet here he was, stranded on this world, alone.

He kept telling himself that he wasn’t really alone. After all, he was trying to make it to the landing site, back to the rest of his crew. And he had to be close by now.

Every single noise around him seemed louder and more intense than before. The crackle of the fire, the wind rustling through the trees, the occasional cry of a distant animal. Jack felt as if he could hear each snowflake as it landed, adding to the blanket of white around him.

He scanned the area around his little camp. Luna Proxima was still high up in the night sky and provided little light. The glow from his fire provided faint illumination, reaching out to a ten-meter radius around him, before fading into the night. A few tree trunks were visible, and a few rocks were peeking out above the snow, his tent, Will’s tent, and their gear. It suddenly felt as if there was nothing else but this little corner of the universe. It felt as if the blackness of outer space began just outside the edge of his dancing circle of amber firelight. But even worse, he felt like he was the only one left in existence.

What if I can’t find my way back to the others? Or worse yet, what if the others never made it? What if the Daedalus chose not to stop and colonize this world? What if something happened to the Daedalus?

Jack struggled to keep his mind from jumping to conclusions. Too many thoughts, too much confusion. He was tired and he had to sleep.

Tomorrow is a new day
, he tried to tell himself. Rising, he tossed another piece of wood on the fire and climbed into his tent to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Jack packed up all of Will’s equipment that he could carry, including his journal and his hand-carved flute. He would do everything possible to get them back to Will’s son. It was the least he could do for his friend.

Heavily draped in both his and Will’s furs, Jack conducted his usual pre-departure scan, hoping to pick up a signal from the LRV that would lead him home. Every morning he did this, and each time it was the same. Nothing.

Jack had decided that the only way to handle things was to carry on as if nothing had changed. But he knew he was fooling himself. Everything had changed. Still, he slung his pack and his rifle onto his back, and continued his trek up the mountain.
Maybe this time…maybe at the top of this next ridge I’ll pick up the LRV’s signal.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Frank was surprised by how quickly he was able to cross the valley floor on his way home. He had figured two, maybe three days to reach the LRV camp. But on the evening of the second day, since he reached the bottom of the mountains, he was beginning to be able to make out details of the encampment. He spotted the communications tower first, and now he could see the LRV itself, sitting in the middle of the group of cargo pods and auxiliary-huts. There was something odd, though.

There was no movement other than the scanner array slowly turning atop the communications tower. Frank had expected to at least see Mac or Tony outside doing one of their mundane maintenance chores they were always complaining about.

Frank had run various arrival scenarios in his head several times, as he made his way across the rolling, grassy terrain. Perhaps he might run into Adia or Laura, out gathering specimens in the fields. But it was late in the day, and maybe they had finished the day’s tasks early and were already inside the LRV, enjoying another one of Laura’s sumptuous pasta salads or relaxing in the lounge. Frank could easily envision them inside the LRV. Maria and Laura watching old movies on the video-player. Mac and Tony grunting and groaning on the resistance gym. Sara pedaling her way through another marathon on the exer-cycle. Lynn meticulously studying the mission profile as she prepared tomorrow’s itinerary. It was a comforting vision altogether. But still, there was something wrong.

By now, he was far inside the outer sensory perimeter. The sensor stakes should have detected his presence and relayed the warning to the computers on the LRV. By now, someone should’ve come out to investigate the source of the motion. But no one was there. And as he drew closer, he noticed something else that worried him. As the evening light waned, he realized that none of the lights were on. Not the outdoor area floods. Not the running light atop the LRV’s tail. Not even a warm glow emanating through the LRV’s habitat windows. For all intents and purposes, the entire camp looked unoccupied.

Frank’s trepidation intensified as he approached the encampment. Storage containers were lying about. The ATUV they recovered from the floods had not been cleaned up. Instinct caused Frank to bring his ATC to a stop. He slowly dismounted his vehicle and started walking through the outer border of the camp. Something told him to draw his side arm. His feeling of relief to be home again suddenly changed to one of fear… Fear of what might have happened to his friends. His steps became more cautious as he quietly made his way through the camp. The hair on his neck stood up as he slowly made his way to the front of the ship.

The hatchway was dark when he started up the ramp. The only light was the red status light on the hatch control panel, indicating it was locked. That was not unusual, as it was standard operating procedure to lock the outer hatch when everyone was inside the LRV. But the hatch control panel would not accept his access code. Someone had
purposefully
locked him out.

Could they be that angry at me?
Frank wondered. He tried his code several times without success. He even tried his command authorization code. It also failed. That meant someone with a higher authorization code than his had locked him out. And that had to be Lynn.

Frank unslung his pack from his shoulders and pulled out a small tool kit. He knew every system in this ship, even better than he knew his own children. And it was an easy task to take apart the hatch control panel and manually override the lock-out command. Within minutes, the hatch was unlocked.

He slowly pushed the hatch open. There were still no lights on in the airlock compartment, and they should have come on automatically when the hatch opened. That meant the ship had been powered down to minimal usage levels. Something was definitely wrong. The ship had been powered down and buttoned up for a reason, and it sure as hell wasn’t because they were mad at him for leaving.

Frank made his way to the inner hatch, which was also locked. The words “Quarantine” and “Close Outer Hatch” flashed in alternating patterns across the inner hatch control panel.

This really scared Frank. “Quarantine?” he muttered to himself as he closed the outer hatch. Ventilation fans spun up in the airlock, spreading a fine decontamination mist all over the compartment. Frank closed his eyes and pulled his shirt up over his nose. The decontamination chemicals stunk, and they burned his eyes.

A few minutes later, the decontamination cycle finished and the inner hatch unlocked. Frank entered the habitat less cautiously than he had entered the airlock. Whatever was happening, he didn’t feel an immediate threat. But the word “Quarantine” was still burned in the back of his mind. The question was, were they protecting themselves from something outside, or trying to keep something inside from getting out? At this point, it didn’t matter. He had to find out what was going on, no matter the risk…and he had to find out
now
.

Frank made his way through the entry corridor and into the main habitat area, finding no one. He continued through the wardroom, and into the berthing section. Several of the curtains on the berths were closed. He went to the nearest berth with closed curtains. It was Tony’s. “Tony?” Frank slowly pulled open the curtains, half hoping to find Tony hiding in his berth, waiting to scare him in retribution for his untimely departure. But that would be more Mac’s type of joke.

Tony was lying on his back in his berth, unmoving. Frank shone his light on Tony’s face. “Tony?” He was pale, and his chest wasn’t moving. Frank couldn’t detect any signs of life. In fact, Tony looked dead.

A knot was developing in Frank’s gut, along with a sense of panic. If this was a joke, it wasn’t very funny. He went to the next berth over, which was Adia’s. Pulling open the curtain, she also appeared dead. Frank noticed that she had an IV port in her left arm.

One by one, Frank checked the other berths. Lynn, Mac, Sara, were all lying still like corpses.

Frank sat on the bench of the resistance gym in the middle of the berthing section. Tears were welling up in his eyes. Could all of his friends really be dead? It didn’t seem possible.

A thought pierced through his swirling emotions. Two people were missing.
Laura and Maria.
Frank rose, stumbling out of the compartment, making his way forward to the med-lab.

He found Maria, slumped over her computer terminal. She looked terrible. Pale and sickly, with sunken eyes. There was vomit in the trashcan and on the floor next to her seat. Frank reached for her neck, feeling for a pulse at her carotid artery. It was faint, but it was there.

He carefully picked her up and laid her on the exam table, but he had no idea what to do next. As chief engineer, his training had been more intense than anyone’s, except for Jack’s. But his medical training had been brief. He managed to hook up the bio-monitor. Her vital signs were all wrong. All of her body chemistry was in the red. He had no idea what any of it meant, let alone what to do about it.

Frank went to the computer terminal on the counter, called up Maria’s log, and began reading. Her most recent entries were mostly gibberish, made up mostly of severely misspelled words. He doubted she had been very coherent at the time. He went back further, catching mention of a disease or a virus. And something about a creature.

The monitor started making strange, irregular beeping sounds, moving Frank’s attention from the log and back to Maria’s bio-monitor. Her heart rhythm was becoming unstable. Frank panicked, unsure of what to do for her.

Frank forced himself to focus. He returned to the computer terminal and switched from the medical log to the protocol database, searching for the treatment protocols for cardiac arrhythmias. After reading furiously for several moments, Frank went to the medicine cabinet, only to find it locked.

“Shit!” Frank cursed. Without hesitation, Frank drew his weapon and blasted the cabinet open, sending vials flying in all directions. Rifling through the open cabinet, he found the vial he wanted, and quickly drew its contents up into a pneumo-jet syringe. After dialing up a dosage, he injected it into Maria’s left deltoid muscle.

A few moments later, her heart rate increased and settled into a steady, regular rhythm. Relieved, Frank looked around at the damage he had done to the medicine cabinet. There were vials scattered all over the floor and the nearby counter. But there was also a long, red case sitting in the middle of the counter.

Frank had spent several days in this room recovering from his diving accident. He had no recollection of this case. He made his way back to the counter, curious. He looked at the cover. “Reduced Metabolic Stasis Serum.”
That would explain the others
, he thought, a wave of relief washing over him. Opening the case, he found five full vials of RMS serum. But there were also five empty holes where five full vials of serum had once sat. And there were five of his friends lying in their berths with IV ports in their arms, appearing to be dead.

“Who’s there?” Maria rasped.

Her words were so faint, Frank almost didn’t hear them. He spun around, finding Maria struggling to open her eyes. He rushed to her side, taking her hand. “It’s me, Frank.”

“Frank,” she half smiled. “You’re back.”

“What the hell’s going on around here?”

“You’re not sick?”

“No, I’m not.”

Maria suddenly became panicked. “You shouldn’t have come in here.”

“You’re lucky I did. Your heart almost stopped. I gave you some atropine.”

“My pH?”

Frank looked up at the bio-monitor. “Seven point two five,” he told her.

“Too low for RMS,” she frowned.

“What?”

“Give me some bi-carb,” she told him. “Above seven point three five. Then give me the RMS serum.”

“What? I can’t do that, it could kill you.”

“I’ll die if you don’t,” she sobbed, tears flowing from her eyes. “Please,” she begged in a whisper that seemed to require all of her remaining strength.

Reluctantly, Frank administered the sodium bicarbonate. Once her pH was above seven point three five, he also administered the RMS serum. For nearly an hour he held her hand as she slipped into stasis.

Frank suddenly felt very alone.

* * *

At first, Jack was able to maintain his pace, as he made his way higher into the mountains. The thought of reaching the summit and picking up the LRV’s signal constantly occupied his mind. Every few days, he would spend some time hunting, cleaning, and cooking his kill, eating what he could and hauling the rest along with him for sustenance during his journey. Otherwise, his routine was fairly predictable.

The weather was not being cooperative. Snowfall seemed minimal, but the wind at the higher elevations brought the nighttime air to bone-chilling temperatures. When he could find a small cave, the fire kept him warm enough to get through the night. Other nights, he was lucky to get a fire lit because of the ice-cold winds.

Yet he somehow managed to get through even the worst nights. The furs helped, as did the blue-grey hair, which seemed to be growing ever thicker on his arms and legs. At first, the unusual hair growth had not worried him. But his concerns grew with each passing day. A few of the men on board the Daedalus had possessed what seemed like abnormal amounts of body hair, something his father had told him was a genetic trait amongst some of the races contained within the Daedalus’s gene-banks. Jack finally had to attribute his unusual hair growth as his own body’s attempt to adapt to the colder environment. Perhaps he too had a recessive gene within him that would explain the extra hair now covering most of his arms and legs.

He had given up on shaving or trying to cut his hair. Both he and Will had become somewhat shaggy in appearance as the cold weather set in. A heavy beard and longer hair seemed to help combat heat loss from their head and face. But, by now, Jack’s hair was nearly down to his shoulders, and his beard, also blue-grey in color, was thick and full, hanging down well below the base of his neck.

But it worked nicely, creating a barrier to prevent the chilly winds from seeping in around the collar of his crudely fashioned fur parka. In fact, with this much head and facial hair, he rarely found the need to wear his fur head cover, even in the poorest of weather. He had even left Will’s furs behind, finding that he no longer needed them to maintain his body temperature.

* * *

Mission log; Day 67; Chief Engineer Reporting;

I returned several days ago from my expedition, only to find the entire crew, with the exception of Doctor Gonzales, in Reduced Metabolic Stasis. Doctor Gonzales herself was ill and near death. After examining her medical log, I learned that the crew has been infected with some type of alien virus of unknown origin or transmission route. Sadly, it has already taken the life of Dr. Weingarten, and severely weakened the rest of the crew. At the request of Doctor Gonzales’, I placed her into stasis.

After further examination of the medical and mission logs, I can only assume that something from either the alien creature killed in the ag-hut, or something in the local environment itself has infected them, and that they quite possibly contaminated one another. Because of this, I have sealed each of them, while in stasis, into their berths, both for their protection as well as my own. Tomorrow, I will begin a careful decontamination of the entire ship. I am the last one remaining, and although I can no longer do anything to help complete the mission, at least I can watch over them and keep them all alive, until help arrives.

* * *

Jack sat by the fire, reading Will’s journal. He felt guilty even opening it, knowing that it wasn’t really for his eyes. But he was lonely. He missed his friend. And he thought that reading his journal a little bit each night might make him feel like Will was still there with him.

Jack decided to start from the beginning, as if he were reading a novel.

October 24, 2112

My name is Rudolph Scheller. I was born in Austria, on the planet Earth. It may seem odd for me to put it that way, but there is cause to do so. You see, my wife, my children and I, along with another twenty other families, are currently residing aboard the first interstellar spaceship ever built by humans, and we have just left our home system on a voyage to a new world.

It is a world that none of us will ever see. The voyage will take us more than sixty years to complete. Why go, you may ask? I’m not sure I can answer that question. Why does anyone risk all that they know to gamble on the unknown? Maybe it is the discovery, maybe it’s that the Earth has passed her prime and has only a bleak future ahead. Maybe we want to be part of something historic.

Or maybe, it was my wife’s idea. She was approached by the Eden Underground through a close friend at work. They desired her expertise on theoretical methods of cold fusion. So they brought our entire family down to the Australian Outback to work in secrecy and safety, away from the prying eyes of the very syndicate sponsoring the project. It all seemed too cloak and dagger for me. But she had lost all her research funding the previous year, and without her work, my wife was a soul without life or purpose.