God, my head was thick. Why, oh why, had I crawled into a bottle of gin? Was it so bad on Mars I needed that much at once? Dreams were made here. Made real. We had but to reach out and claim the system for all mankind, this red rock as our foothold.
The white room, with its beds and lockers and scattered debris, twisted sideways. The floor drew close, fast, and was unkind, punching me in the face with a metallic right hook. Pain shot through my eye socket and jaw, turning my vision white. I tried to protest the floor’s actions, but couldn’t find the strength. When I attempted to get back up, my arms didn’t respond.
And why not? Where was I? Hadn’t I just been by the pool? I smell chlorine, lots of chlorine. Maybe that cute girl is taking a dip. God, I hope she is. She’s different. Not just beautiful, but…
A loudspeaker shouted and I swore it was for me. But why me? All I do is work on skimmers for old Harrison. I don’t do government jobs. I guess they’re just after dad. We do have the same name, after all. And lately, he’s been doing a bunch of strange side work for off-worlders. He even fixed a service lander for this, what did he call ’em? Jovian? Axis? He figured helping someone in need might be a good thing. No reason to always sow evil, he said. Do unto others and all that.
Wait, the floors of Level 6-B aren’t this clean. Where’s the red dirt and dust?
The pain. God…
My nerves and muscles howled, but their chorus was silent.
“Señor David!” an earnest looking kid took hold of my shoulders. “You okay?” He looked surprised to find me in the Estates. Why wouldn’t I be here? I was rich. Made a fat nut off a gold deposit I found in the Helo Mines. This kid was concerned, but didn’t seem nervous, just sleepy, his eyelids heavy. He seemed decent enough. Who was he? I should know him. Is he the amphetamine addict I met in tunnel C last week?
“I knew, just knew, damn it, señor. Come on. Say something, man!”
I swore I responded, that was the polite thing to do, but I heard nothing come off my lips.
I was fine, man, just fine. Why worry? I guess I’d just gotten a little tired and opted for a nap. This place was cleaner than… Cleaner than what? Where’s my torch? The one with the red, no, the yellow handle. Yes, yellow handle.
“Get him to medical,” a man with a snoz like a thick carrot and ears of cauliflower growled. They lifted me up to face the ceiling. “The cut looks shallow, but the air’s the real issue. Nurse, prep.” This guy was more focused than the kid, and before I knew it, doors were flashing past me on either side. I was on a ship. Had cauliflower ears put me on a ship? Why would I be on a ship? Are we headed back to Earth? Am I visiting the Axis like dad talked of doing?
“Are we alive?” I asked, suddenly able to put some of the facts back together. I had all the pieces but none of them made a damn bit of sense, like a jigsaw novel written in Chinese.
“For now,” a third man said over Cauliflower’s shoulder, his voice deep, resonant, and commanding. “Good work, Goddard.”
It was the Captain’s voice. The Vindicator. Decompression.
Shit.
“Get him into the chamber,” Cauliflower ordered. “Put him in the one beside Kelly.”
They slid me into a silver tube with a tiny glass window, gave me a white sheet and a thick pillow, and closed off the end. Air hissed and pain ripped through my body. My shoulders, more than anything, felt as if they’d been stuffed with microscopic cotton balls encrusted in razor blades. At any moment I knew blood would squeeze out of them like a kitchen sponge.
The hissing went on for several seconds, maybe minutes, and I felt my eyes growing heavy, too heavy to remain open. I let them fall shut, pulling the blanket around me like a toddler in need of simple comfort. Darkness, not just a lack of light, but an emptiness as complete as the void, crept in from all sides. My breathing became shallow.
“Is he going to make it?” a distant voice queried, a whale beneath the ocean. “If someone doesn’t fix them, we’re finished.”
And like an incandescent light wired to a faulty switch—my thoughts fizzled once and winked out.
[12]
“He’s coming around.”
My eyes creaked open. I’d found myself in a dim, comfortable place, but what little light reached me still felt like needles boring into my corneas. I squinted and shuttered. Everything hurt, like I’d been run over by a freight mule. My muscles were inflamed and tight, every breath a rasping challenge. I clutched the blanket pooled at my feet and sat upright, wrapping it around my shoulders for emotional support.
“What happened?” I asked, peering through a tiny glass window. I could see warning posters on the opposite wall, colorful characters warning crew to always know where the nearest emergency breathing mask was located. I could see clear cabinets filled with things like alcohol wipes, cotton balls, burn cream, false skin, and drugs. Med 1, a bad place to wake up.
Doc came into view a second later, scratching thoughtfully at his jet black beard. “How are you feeling?” A cut ran down his right ear, dried blood sticking to the bottom of its lumpy, cauliflower shape. A series of mottled bruises took up residence nearby.
“Like shit, Doc. What happened?” My arms stretched out, but didn’t go far. I was trapped in a small, silver tube, breathing one hundred percent pure oxygen. My jumpsuit was still on, and Liberty’s ear piece was in my pocket.
“A few questions first.” Doc called for the nurse and produced a flashlight. “Follow the light for me. That’s it. There we go.” He flashed it across my vision several times, each pass making me want to puke. “Pupil response normal, no excess dilation. Your skin tone is returning to its regular pink tinted chalk. How about that, you’re not a Popsicle anymore.” He activated the recorder clipped to his shirt and blurted a string of medical terms I couldn’t follow. It was as if he were possessed by demons and was channeling their thoughts. “Do you feel dizzy? Any numbness? How many fingers am I holding up? Hmm. Can’t have you standing to test balance in a monoplace chamber. We’ll do that later. Nurse, get me his vitals.”
I thumped the glass with an irritable finger. “Doc, what happened?” I couldn’t recall much. I’d repaired the leak and so had César. That part was good. We were still alive. That was even better. But what had hit us? Sixty projectiles? Hell no. There was no way. The Axis couldn’t fire that many at once. No way. Besides, we’d be dead if they had.
The nurse handed a tablet to Doc. He slipped it into a slot on the outside of the chamber, conjuring a hiss of air. A second later the tablet appeared inside the tube with me.
“Take it.” Doc turned to face his nurse. “Let’s go with Treatment Table Six and see if the symptoms lessen.”
“Yes, Doctor.” She nodded and disappeared from view.
I fixed my eyes on the tablet’s screen, stomach twisting in knots that weren’t the result of my symptoms. An EVA rig, a suit designed for extra vehicular activities, was outside the ship scaling the supports of a solar panel. Down the right side of the display were readings—heart rate, O2 sat, blood pressure and EEG, as well as a few stats I wasn’t familiar with. At the very bottom was a name. Engineering Assistant, Private César Enela.
“What’s he doing out there? I didn’t order such a dangerous repair.”
Doc shook his head. “Cap ordered it. You’ve been out for six hours, son, and we were losing power fast. Still are, in fact. We had to get our repairs underway immediately, and you’ve got another day or so cooking in there before feeling up to it. But he seems capable enough. Didn’t take all that much to sell the Cap on it. Kid’s got spirit.”