Homesick

Ian guided himself through the corridor towards the mess hall in the compartment aft of his quarters. His fingers grasped a series of handholds along the way to help him maintain a graceful stride. He knew he would be early for the meeting, but saw no advantage in pacing his room for another ten minutes. Of course, he was not looking forward to the meeting either. Once he entered the mess hall, rest period was officially over. In a few short minutes they would have to make some difficult decisions.

The mess hall was more spacious than his quarters because it had less furniture. A large table faced the great window and the corridor-wall held food lockers and a rudimentary kitchen. On the sidewall was a presentation screen that doubled as a theatre. Above them on the other end of the half cylinder was a recreation area with games and sundries including a VR exercise space.

As Merryfield suspected, the others were not there yet. He glanced at the food lockers, letting his fingers trace the labels on the various compartments. He toyed with the idea of getting a snack, but he knew that could become a bad habit. Instead, he took a globe of water from the dispenser and prepared to turn it into coffee. He glanced at his reflection in the polished chrome of the cabinet. His sandy hair was well kept without being overly short and he’d made it a point to shave before the meeting. He looked approvingly at his profile, grateful that exercise and good diet had kept his trim, muscular frame free of fat or flab. His flannel interior uniform was designed to be comfortable, but it also fit snug. For Ian this was flattering. He missed Sutton Scotney and had every intention of returning there as fit as when he left.

In contrast to Ian, Vladimir Coronov didn’t appear to have any interest in preserving his physique for the return home. He was not a fat man, but he was flabby and he managed to stagger when he walked, giving him the appearance of a particularly tall penguin. He also seemed intent on making as much noise as possible when he entered a room. From the door, he launched himself towards the table with a loud grunt, then hooked the side of the doorway with his slipper to angle himself back towards the food lockers. He quickly found three ration packs and took them with him to the table, snagging two globes of fruit juice at the last minute. Ian glanced at the performance with subtle curiosity, bracing himself briefly when it looked as though Vlad might collide with the table. His face was dark with beard shadow and his uniform jacket was not properly buttoned.

Vlad regarded Ian with a favorable nod. “You are early. Good.”

Ian nodded back, resisting the impulse to act surprised that Vlad was on time.

“Early birds get snacks,” he said, shuffling through the food tins and pulling a bag of chips from one of them. “You want . . . crisps, is it?”

Ian shook his head. “No, no thank you, but you can call them either ‘crisps’ or ‘chips.’ Two different types of English.” He looked down at the empty table. “Scott would have called them chips.”

Vlad missed Ian’s reference and proceeded to wrestle with the bag, finally tearing it open with his teeth. “Engineers,” he grumbled. “They protect the food from everything! Even us!”

“Yeah, Mate,” Ian said. “But there’s supposed to be a tab on there somewhere.”

“Try to find it!” he laughed. “Of course, our food is no better. But they do give us drink with meal. At least red wine.”

Ian nodded. “Actually, a drink would be nice about now.”

Vlad raised his juice globe in agreement.

Ian turned away as Vlad attacked his chips, crunching them with his mouth open. Aside from being disgusting, Vlad now seemed irreverent. After all, the meeting was about Anderson.

Sally Buds glided in exactly on time. Unlike Ian and Vlad, she never seemed to have difficulty walking in low gravity, and maintained almost exactly the same posture and gait she would on Earth. She was probably the most dignified woman Ian had ever known. Her white flannel uniform was immaculate but somehow conveyed a casual feeling. She wore her light blonde hair down, but managed to keep it neat, a real trick in low gravity. Ian couldn’t be sure if she wore makeup, but if she did it was never too obvious. Her pleasant smile was absent this day, however, but this was the only evidence of the burden she carried.

Sally took her seat at the head of the table and watched for their attention. Vlad went so far as to set down his drink, but he maintained his grip on a brownie he had unwrapped and appeared to be calculating when he could safely open another bag of chips.

“Anything new to report?” she asked, looking from one to the other.

“Yes,” Vlad said, looking up from his snack. “My daughter. I tried to see her. I can’t today and yesterday.”

Sally nodded. “Yes I know, the Space Commission’s a bit touchy about this, especially now. Expect to be out of contact for a few more days.”

“But Ian talked today,” Vlad protested. “I know he did. Why not me?”

“I was cut off, too, Vlad,” Ian said. “And you know as well as I do that your transmissions go through a completely different set of gatekeepers than ours do. Don’t try to blame us for that __ ”

“But you talked some __ ”

“Complain to your communication minister,” Ian said, trying not to shout. “We’ve been over this before! Our people have no authority over New Soviet com lines!”

“Okay, Vlad,” Buds threw a ‘halt’ gesture at him before he could speak again. “The bottom line is Earth’s worried about rumors. They won’t let me talk to my partner either. They’re concerned about leaks.”

“I don’t leak, but my daughter hears things from Merryfield’s wife sometimes!”

“That’s not true!” Ian perked up as if he had been struck. “Angela’s not leaking anything! But, come to that, she’s warned me about some eavesdropping going on that your communication minister won’t admit to. Russian protocol codes turning up in our com logs, as it happens. Maybe it’s spying we should be worried about rather than __”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Buds stood up, shaking her head. “Come on, guys,” she said, addressing them like a coach might chastise two teammates fighting before a game. “We don’t have time for this and you know it. Suffice it to say they’re skittish, for whatever reasons. They aren’t going to understand our situation because they’re not here, but we’re not there either. Let’s leave it at that. So, unless you two want to put on boxing gloves and beat each other senseless to let off steam, I suggest we get started.”

There was a murmur of agreement, though Ian may have been tempted by the idea.

“Scott needs us,” Sally emphasized. “No matter what country we’re from, no matter who we answer to at home, and no matter how well we get along here, we’re the only friends he has out here and that means we’re his only hope! Understand?”

Vlad and Ian sat deeper in their chairs and bowed their heads slightly.

“I know how you feel,” she said more softly. “I didn’t get to talk to Jackie today either and I’m just as anxious to avoid worrying her as you are your families.” She tried again to put on a cheerful face, this time less successfully. “But, if it makes you feel better, the leaks probably aren’t coming from us. It’s more likely the UN PR team doesn’t want us confirming things other people say. I’ve also heard the more aggressive journalists, if you can call them that, have managed to lift sound bites from VR transmissions.”

“They’ve tapped the VR codes?” Ian said in amazement.

“It was probably just a matter of time.”

“It’s one bloody hit after another, isn’t it?”

Sally did smile this time. “Look at the bright side, Ian. When all this gets made into a movie someday, it’ll be very interesting!”

“As long as we’re alive to collect the royalties, you won’t hear me complaining,” Ian said, joining her in a smile, though he couldn’t manage a laugh.

Sally took her seat again and set her handheld down on the table. At a touch, the screen on the wall lit up. The image displayed was a familiar one. They had each spent many hours studying it. It was an aerial view of the landing site. The time stamp was current, but, aside from differences in lighting, it was identical to the other images they’d studied for the last several days.

“Still no contact whatsoever from the pod,” she began. “No sightings of Scott on any of the ship’s scanners or our own scans, no idea what happened to him or why he suddenly lost contact. No new answers, no new data.”

Ian shook his head. “No.”

Vlad shrugged, grunting a negative.

“As you know, I’ve considered the idea of a pathogen or some toxic element we couldn’t detect before sending him and I’ve checked all available data. Again, nothing new.”

They both nodded their agreement.

“Also, no contact with any living residents of that world, at least not the ones who built the satellite in orbit, and no actual proof that they exist. Vlad, you’ve detected movement that could be animal life, but no signs of advanced electricity use in large cities.”

He shook his head. “We are detecting something, but we don’t know from where. It could be natural, or some residual infrastructure still in operation from before.”

“All the ruins on this continent suggest vibrant cities and busy transportation systems, all abandoned now,” Ian reminded her. “That’s why the idea of a plague might still make sense.”

Sally nodded. “But, without evidence from his biomonitor, there just isn’t a strong enough case. And he was suited at the time. Which means the best working theory we have is that he fell victim to attack by someone or something or simply got lost. We just don’t know.”

She then got up and paced for a moment, walking perfectly straight. “As you know, Earth Command sat on this for a while. The word this morning was ’Captain’s Discretion.’” She turned to face them. “That means we bring him back. Ian, you were more inclined to think he was abducted. That idea sounds most likely to me. That means there’s a chance he’s alive.”

There was a charged pause as the meaning of her words sunk in.

“You mean go down and get him?” Vlad said, looking genuinely surprised. “You can’t mean that!”

“There’s no other way, Mate,” Ian agreed. “She’s right, and all __”

“He is surely dead!” Vlad insisted. “We are not! It is time to go home ourselves!”

Sally faced him. “Vlad, I don’t know how things work in your corner of the world, but we don’t leave our people behind until we know for sure there’s nothing more we can do for them.”

“But that makes no sense! He is one man!”

“He’s our mate!” Ian barked, finally losing his composure. “He taught me half what I know, and that’s a lot!”

“I’m going to need both of you to figure out a game plan for rescue,” Sally said, ignoring both their outbursts. “I’ll also need to know what we can expect from them based on what we’ve learned so far. At this point I’m willing to bet the Kelthy’s safe in orbit. If they had strategic missiles they’d have used them by now. That tells me we probably have the more sophisticated technology. That’s our advantage.”

“Yeah, but weaponry certainly isn’t,” Ian said in dismay. “Not one gun on the whole ship! Remember, we weren’t expecting a bloody battle! I agree we should go, but __”

“Then we’ll have to improvise,” Sally interrupted. Then she addressed them both, meeting their eyes each time. “Vladimir, Ian, we’ve spent six months with Anderson. With Scott, I should say. We know his family. He’s practically a brother to you, Ian, and we both owe him our lives. I, for one, think Carrie deserves some explanation if she’s to become a widow. And I don’t plan to live the rest of my life wondering if Anderson’s still alive somewhere, asking himself what the hell happened to us!”

“But, what if it’s plague?” Vlad tried again.

“That’s not likely. Besides, if it’s plague we’ll know that right away. If we find Anderson’s body within 100 yards of the shuttlepod, then that’s the answer. There are places he could be that we can’t see from here. Perhaps under the chutes. He could even have tried to get back into the ship. We’ll make a more thorough test of the atmosphere both before and after we land, and we’ll be careful about physical contact with plants and any water we see. If we suspect anything, we can wear respirators until we’re sure.” She looked hard at them again. “Look, we aren’t the Marines and I never planned on leading a military mission, but we’re all there is! We owe it to Anderson to try! He’d do the same for us, because he’s that kind of man!”

“Lead?” Vlad said, surprised. “You will lead? You are going down?”

Sally shot him an impatient glance. “Yes, I’m Captain, I’m a woman, and I’m going down there. Do you have a problem with that? I thought you Russians were ahead of us on that sort of thing.”

“No, no. It’s just I thought you would stay here. You are Captain.”

“Call it cabin fever,” she joked. “Now, I want to be on that planet before dawn. I want to be a comfortable distance from the other shuttlepod but close enough to get there within an hour. Ian, give me a solution for that landing and remember it has to include a ride down for two and a return for three. Make that happen. I’ll try to improvise some weapons in case things get ugly. Vlad, prep one of the shuttlepods. Make us a map of the area indicating any points of interest we might want to check out or avoid. We’ll meet at the departure deck in two hours.”

Vlad and Ian looked at each other. Buds checked them one more time for objections. Seeing none, she turned and left. With the silence of grudging acceptance, Vlad and Ian filed out to their work.