Final Days (45 page)

‘Why?’

‘Well, he’s keeping to himself a lot, through there.’

‘Is that a problem?’

‘No, not necessarily. But stress affects all kinds of people in all kinds of ways.’

Saul shook his head. ‘I’m not sure what you mean.’

‘My point is, if anyone becomes unbalanced or has some kind of breakdown out here, there isn’t anyone we can turn to for help, and we’ve all got more than enough reasons to lose it right now. I’m not suggesting that’s what’s happening with Mitchell, but when somebody starts hiding away that much, it’s not necessarily a good sign.’

‘No, he’s not crazy,’ Saul replied. ‘At least, no more than I am.’

‘Les?’ interrupted Amy, sitting up and pulling the muffs off. ‘This might not be a good time for you to chat. We’ve got deceleration coming up. I want you and the boys to get yourselves strapped in.’

Lester nodded to her, then returned his attention to Saul, throwing him one last leery glance. ‘Then I hope to hell you’re right,’ he said. ‘Now, get yourself suited up, and I’ll go fetch Mitchell.’

‘Is it absolutely necessary to get suited up?’ Saul protested. ‘We’re not even on the surface yet.’

‘I swear, you’re worse than my damn kids ever were,’ said Lester with a grin. ‘It’s something our insurers have always insisted on.’

‘Not exactly something you need to worry about out here, Lester.’

‘No, but it keeps Amy happy, since you never know what damn thing’s going to go wrong. So suit up and strap yourself in.’

Saul conceded defeat, pulling his suit out from where it was stowed, along with the long johns that helped keep his ody temperature regulated. Lester meanwhile pushed his way through the tunnel leading from the command module to the lander, returning a minute later with Mitchell in tow. Mitchell immediately got into his own suit before returning to the seat directly behind Lester, without comment.

Lester and Amy helped each other put on their suits before conducting more interminable checks on the engines and computer systems. After half an hour, Amy fired the engines. The craft instantly slammed them forward in their seats, as the deceleration burn kicked in, slowing them in their headlong flight, and putting them on target for a lunar insertion. The burn only lasted for thirty seconds but, when it ended, Saul’s lungs ached as he exhaled.

Amy raised one gloved hand up above her head in a thumbs-up, and Saul closed his eyes, listening to the sound of his own breathing, so strangely close and claustrophobic inside his helmet.

The Moon gradually began to fill all of the ports over the next few hours, and Saul spent quite some time peering out at the lunar surface from a vantage point he never thought he’d get the chance to experience. His contacts dropped labels over the Mare Imbrium’s ancient lava flows, similarly highlighting the Copernicus crater lying close by the equator.

Dense ashen clouds had by now covered Canada and much of the Pacific, and had also spread across Washington State like grasping fingers. The Hawaiian Islands had long since disappeared beneath the murk, but a storm front running down the West Coast towards Mexical appeared to be holding the clouds back in the south. Florida remained unaffected, but Saul knew, with grim certainty, that wouldn’t be the case for much longer. More clouds were meanwhile spreading north across the Gulf of Mexico.

‘We’re going to all move through to the lander now,’ Amy announced, ‘Then we’ll separate the modules before all heading down to the surface in the lander. We’ll be doing a fair bit of walking across the lunar surface once we land, so I want you all to run more checks on your suits. Access your how-tos and follow the instructions.’

‘Speaking of which,’ said Lester, ‘separation due in fifteen minutes, and counting.’

They moved through into the lander, one by one, securing themselves into the padded chairs there as Lester sealed off the hatch. He then made a series of further checks, along with Amy, flipping rows of toggles before strapping in with just a few seconds to go.

Thirty seconds passed, and the lander jerked violently. At the same moment, Saul heard a dull thump, like an executioner’s blade biting into wood.

‘And that, lady and gentlemen,’ declared Lester, ‘is what we call a separation.’

‘What now?’ asked Saul, his skin already coated with cold sweat.

‘What’s now is that we land,’ replied Amy in a distracted tone. ‘So try not to interrupt your flight crew, okay?’

Saul mumban apology, and noticed Mitchell’s eyes were closed under the curved plastic of his helmet. Behind their lids, his pupils darted constantly here and there, his lips twitching.

Saul used his contacts to watch the lunar surface slip by beneath them. Before long it became clear that they were dropping lower and lower, the craft oriented so it was flying upside-down in respect to the surface. More time passed until the nearest edge of Copernicus itself crept into sight, growing wider and deeper as they descended towards the low hills beyond the crater’s rim.

‘Tight,’ muttered Amy. ‘Look at that. Not much flat ground round here. Shoulda stuck to our usual designated landing zone.’

‘Doing fine, hon,’ said Lester, his tone calm and reassuring. ‘Just guide her in best you can.’

The craft twisted around in its flight until it was oriented the right way. They dropped yet lower over the next several minutes, until thick plumes of grey dust billowed up around the lander, obscuring the view through the external cameras. Almost before he realized it, the lander had touched down with a gentle thump.

Saul let out a shaky breath.
I’m alive
, he thought.

‘That was a sweet landing, honey,’ said Lester, turning to her with a look of approval. ‘Why, I—’

Saul saw the back of Lester’s helmet shatter under a blow from the wrench gripped in one of Mitchell’s gloved hands. Lester exhaled sharply and reached out with one hand to the control panel before him. Another blow followed immediately, smashing through the ruins of his helmet to strike the back of his skull with sickening force.

Saul scrabbled at his restraints, then raised one arm in a feeble attempt at defending himself, just as Mitchell aimed the next blow at him. Saul’s helmet fractured under the impact, but still held together.

Mitchell leaned over him, his face filled with a snarl. Out of the corner of his eye, Saul could see Amy unbuckling herself, before bending forward to reach under her seat.

Mitchell pulled the wrench back for a second swing, but the module was too cramped and the weapon slammed into a control panel behind him, tumbling from his grasp. Saul tore frantically at his restraints while, swearing under his breath, Mitchell crouched down to find the wrench.

Amy stood up from her seat just as Saul managed to fight loose of his restraints. She gripped a weapon of her own in both hands. At first glance it looked like a regular shotgun, but with a peculiarly home-made appearance, as if it had been assembled from random pieces of junk.

Before Saul had time to wonder what the Roses were doing with a shotgun hidden on the lander, Amy fired it at Mitchell from point-blank range.

It took some moments for Saul to register what happened next. Mitchell had shifted to one side with startling, inhuman speed, the bullet smacking into a compumounted on the bulkhead behind him. It was as if someone had inserted a jump-cut into reality: first Mitchell had been
here
, but now he was
there
.

Saul already knew from the how-tos how easily the bullet could have punctured the lander’s thin walls.

Amy swore and tried to take aim a second time, and Saul noticed how the trigger mechanism was roomy enough for a spacesuit-gloved finger to fit around it.

Mitchell leaned over Lester’s prone form to snatch the weapon away from her, moving once again with that shocking fluid velocity.

Saul then remembered what Donohue had said.
He’s not even human
.

He grabbed hold of Mitchell from the side, only for the man to swing Amy’s rifle around like a club, slamming the stock into Saul’s ribs and sending him stumbling backwards. By the time Saul had struggled half upright again, Mitchell was swinging the rifle back and forth between him and Amy. The lander felt more intensely cramped and claustrophobic than ever.

‘I don’t want either of you getting in the way,’ Mitchell shouted. ‘Amy, I—’

The interior of the lander was so tiny that, when Mitchell glanced towards Amy, it was easy for Saul to reach out with one gloved fist and knock the rifle barrel upward, so that it smacked into a control panel mounted on the ceiling. Saul pushed his advantage by grabbing hold of the barrel, struggling desperately to pull it from Mitchell’s grasp. Mitchell was sweating inside his suit, with an expression suggesting he was in considerable discomfort. As his eyes became unfocused, Saul felt the man’s grip on the weapon begin to loosen.

‘Now you listen, you piece of shit,’ Saul barked, ‘you’re going to—’

A sound like a hammer blow filled the tiny cabin, and a nearly irresistible force almost lifted Saul into the air.

He slammed shoulder-first into one of the forward control panels, hard enough to leave him feeling dazed. He caught a glimpse of lunar regolith, down between the lander’s legs, then realized the forward hatch had somehow been blown, the air inside the craft explosively decompressing. Mitchell pushed Amy out of the way and literally dived head-first through the narrow hatch, before landing between the lander’s legs, in a great cloud of dust.

‘Don’t move,’ he heard Amy warning him over the A/V. ‘Your helmet’s cracked. I need to resecure that hatch before we can do anything else.’

‘What the hell just happened?’

Amy reached down for a handle attached to one side of the hatch. ‘Give me a hand here,’ she ordered.

Saul took hold of the handle on the opposite side, and held it in place, following her clipped directions as she reset the locking mechanism. He had to lean over Lester to do s and noticed his unmoving eyes staring off through one of the lander’s triangular windows.

‘I don’t know how he figured out how to do that,’ Amy muttered tightly, ‘but he triggered the emergency release.’

Saul remembered studying Mitchell when he had assumed he might be asleep, and seeing the man’s eyes dart back and forth under their lids, no doubt planning and preparing, while searching out flaws in the lander’s UP-linked control systems.

‘I think I might know,’ he admitted.

Once Amy had finished resecuring the hatch, she reached out and flipped a couple of switches on a control panel, then did the same with a virtual panel floating to one side. A distant hiss quickly built to a roar as the cabin filled up with air once more, from an emergency tank.

‘How he did it doesn’t matter right now,’ said Amy. ‘Well, that’s us repressurized. Now we’ve got to help Lester.’

‘Amy . . .’

She ignored him, pulling open a steel cabinet and withdrawing a large white plastic box. ‘Medical kit,’ she explained. ‘We’ll need to dress that wound.’

Saul gazed down at Lester’s slumped form, with a feeling of hopelessness, as Amy hurriedly pulled off her helmet and dropped it to one side.

Saul pulled off his own damaged helmet too, then helped her remove Lester’s. Tears trickled down her cheeks, as she murmured Lester’s name over and over again, like a litany. Lester’s head rolled to one side, his jaw slack and his eyes vacant.

‘Amy, please, listen to me.’

She began weeping in earnest. ‘We can get him to a hospital in Copernicus,’ she insisted. ‘Someone might still be there, someone who can . . .’

Saul stared down at Lester’s lifeless features. ‘It’s too late for that.’

Amy sniffed and reached up to pinch away the tears gathering around her eyes. She stood up abruptly, the medical kit slipping from her grasp. ‘I don’t understand . . . why did he do this? He tried to kill you, too.’

‘I don’t know,’ Saul replied, reaching out with two gloved fingers to close Lester’s eyes.

Amy kneeled on her seat, her face twisted in anguish, as she stared down at her husband. ‘Listen to me, Saul,’ she said eventually, her voice hoarse. ‘There are some auxiliary suits.’

‘There are?’ Saul felt a sudden stab of hope.

Amy nodded listlessly and touched one gloved hand to Lester’s cheek. ‘ou can get yourself another helmet belonging to one of them.’ She took a deep, shuddering breath, and then stood up as straight as possible. Her eyes, blazing with anger, met Saul’s. ‘I want you to kill him, do you hear me?’

‘Amy . . .’

‘No, dammit, I want him dead.’

Saul tried to think of something to say. ‘I need to find out why he did this, and if I kill him, I can’t do that.’

Her gloved fists clenched themselves by her sides. She might be an old woman now, but Saul suddenly saw just how very formidable she must have been in her youth.

‘Then make damn sure he never gets as far as the colonies,’ she hissed in a half-whisper.

The spare suits were located in a locker hidden beneath a floor panel at the rear. Amy helped him pull out a new helmet.

‘Now listen up,’ she said. ‘We’ve landed a couple of klicks south-east of the Lunar Array. Any normal day, we’d wind up in jail for flying anywhere near this close to it.’ She retrieved the rifle from where she’d propped it against a bulkhead. ‘Here, you’re going to need this thing when you go after Mitchell.’