Homesick -
Chapter Five - The Flip of the Coin
“Wish us luck, mate,” he whispered to the travel gnome Scott had clipped to one of the service hooks above the console.
Then, after lingering to verify the numbers one more time, Ian left the cone, making his way back along the modules. He walked past his quarters, then past the mess hall and infirmary, and finally to the last door in the habitat section. Beyond this door was a short ladder leading to a pressurized hatch in the ceiling. This was the entrance to the gyro-rod housing, and it was the only access to the departure deck.
Ian usually looked forward to going to the departure deck and had actually made excuses to do so during the months of quiet boredom on their way out. But, since Anderson’s disappearance, the departure deck had become a shrine. It was the last place he had seen Anderson alive and it was there they performed a friendly ritual that now seemed chilling. He felt in his pocket, grasping something cold and metallic. It was a large coin that nobody in his generation would likely have ever spent. The silver dollar had the face of Lady Liberty and the year 1883 was still visible below her chin. The coin wasn’t particularly valuable to collectors, as many of the fine details were worn off and the value of silver was reasonably low, but Ian had pledged to protect it with his life. He was to return it to Anderson when he stepped out of the shuttlepod, and he still intended to do so. But, even as he looked at it, he could remember the metallic ping it made when Scott flipped it into the air with his thumb over a week ago. Coins flipped higher in the low gravity and Scott had had to relearn his skill at the toss. The coin flipped perfectly that day and he caught it and transferred it to his wrist with a satisfying slap.
“Call it!” he’d shouted.
“Heads,” Ian answered. And then Scott pried his hand from the coin and peaked underneath. His smile told Ian all he needed to know. Had it been heads, Scott would have pocketed the coin and Ian would have begun suiting up. Instead, he handed Ian the coin and said. “Keep it lucky for me, bud!”
Ian re-pocketed the coin and opened the hatch, letting in a draft and the hum of the great electric motor that turned the gyro. When his feet found the second rung of the ladder his weight began drifting away. By the time he reached the fifth, he had none at all. He steadied himself with the handrails as he prepared to float down the tube farther aft.
The gyro rod was a strong metal pole almost one foot in diameter that ran the length of the ship. It looked unremarkable for what it did and was far stronger than it appeared. Fashioned arrow-straight, it would be hard for most people to believe that this simple rod held the entire ship together and provided the most basic point of reference anyone ever knew. Up and down. As Ian glanced back towards the forward compartments the rod disappeared into darkness but for light leakage escaping from various fixtures lining the casing. Aft was the departure deck itself. He floated only a moment before gripping the rod and pushing off to find purchase once again on the floor below. But, unlike the curved simulation of linear space in the habitat area, the floor in the departure deck was angular, forming a triangular chamber made up of three identical hatches leading farther down. These were the openings to the shuttlepod bays. On one of them, a red light glowed. This was the bay that once contained Anderson’s shuttlepod, and it was still depressurized. One of the adjacent hatches was unlit, indicating that it was fully dormant. The other was green, displaying a ready status. Ian opened a control panel next to this door and operated a large green lever. The hatch sunk into the floor and slid open along its track revealing a ladder leading down into the bay.
Sally came through the access door next with the graceful moves of a dancer, landing on her feet in front of Ian before he could react. She was carrying two canvas bags full of equipment and set them down next to the ladder. Her hair was tied back and she wore her green uniform jacket and denim pants tucked into her heavy boots. Strapped to her arms were convenience packs. On one arm she had an emergency medical kit and her hand-held computer. The other held her portacom and a small toolkit. Around her neck was slung a headset with a chin-mounted microphone.
“Ready to go?” Sally asked.
He nodded, examining the bags. He clipped on his own toolkit and portacom and searched the bags for a headset.
“By the way, thanks for backing me up on this,” Sally said.
“Scott’s a mate,” Ian repeated. “Like you said, he’d do the same for us.”
Sally nodded.
“So, that leaves Vlad with the ship.”
“Yeah.” Sally grimaced. “Lesser of two evils,” she muttered as she searched the other bag.
They could hear Vlad coming. He, too, brought a bag and, to Ian’s surprise, he wore a field jacket as well. He regarded them coldly when he emerged, as if aware they had been talking about him.
“No need for you to suit up, Mate,” Ian said. “I told you to stand down from the mission, didn’t I?” Then he regarded him with mild amusement. “Did you think I said standby?”
“Vlad, you’ll have the ship while we’re gone,” Sally informed him.
“Oh . . . yes, yes!” He blurted out, smiling with relief. Sally fought an impulse to sneer at him. He reminded her of a spoiled kid gloating over winning a game of chance.
“I see you’ve got Shuttlepod Two prepped and I loaded your maps into our handhelds. We should be able to track his biomonitor readings on the surface even if he’s dead. We’ll report in every hour once we’re down.”
“And how will you protect yourself?”
Sally showed him the taser. “It’s a little unwieldy for a weapon and, truth be told, I’m hoping to scare them more than harm them if we do meet resistance.” She shrugged. “We’ll just have to hope its bark is worse than its bite.”
“And Merryfield?”
“We only have one of these.”
He nodded gravely, looking more relieved than ever that he would not be going.
Ian began lowering one of the bags down into the bay, deliberately trying to seem oblivious to their conversation. Sally turned to give him hers, but then looked back to Vlad as if she had forgotten something.
“Oh, and one other thing. I just remembered there’s a launch window coming up in a few days. If we wanted to go home ahead of schedule that would be ideal, and I know you brought it to my attention. But it’s possible Ian and I won’t be back in time to take advantage of it, not to mention we’re still not sure it’s safe fuel-wise.”
Vlad nodded with a quizzical look.
She paused, as if looking for a particularly delicate way to put her next words. “I’m not really sure why I’m telling you this,” she began with a dismissive gesture. “You see, I’m certain you’d have no need to perform any navigational procedures in our absence, but if that should come up for some reason, you should know I’ve locked the ships navigation systems to my voice print and I’m taking my command key with me.”
Vlad reeled back, his face contorted in alarm “But that’s madness! That means if you don’t come back __”
“You won’t be able to leave orbit,” she finished for him, half suppressing a playful grin. “But that shouldn’t be a problem because I’m sure we will come back. After all, we’ll have you up here rooting for us all the way, won’t we? And, if by chance we do run into trouble down there, I’m sure you’d rush down in the last shuttlepod to find us, right?” She looked slightly amused at his astonished expression. “That’s right, Vlad, if we go down we all go down. Even you!”
“Please think again on this! We’ve only lost one man so far __ ”
“No!” she said, her smile vanishing. “We’re in this together now or not at all, and that means we’re not drawing straws. There can’t be any advantage in staying behind! We’ve all got to have the same motivation! That means your best chance of getting home safely is to give us as much support from up here as possible. You watch the map. You follow us down with the scopes. You warn us if you see any hostiles. And you analyze any data we give you at lighting speed and with complete accuracy.”
“You can’t do this!”
“I just did,” Sally countered, not blinking once. “And don’t bother telling me what your government will say to mine. We’re a long way from the UN now and frankly I don’t care how many seats your people have on the council. This is my ship and you’re under my command!”
Vlad glared at her, his chin trembling.
“Wish us luck?” Sally offered.
Vlad pursed his lips and turned away. Sally started towards the open hatch, not caring to wait for his sentiments, but Vlad turned back and met her eyes before she got there. He cleared his throat. Then, with some reluctance, he opened his jacket, reached under his armpit, and produced a pistol, holding it out to her. “Then this you may need. It may help.”
Buds seized the gun and stared at it in amazement bordering on disbelief. She released the magazine and examined the bullets. While she was still appraising it with rapt amazement, Vlad pulled another magazine from under his other arm and extended it to her, but she was too stunned to notice. Ian took it instead, hefting it in his hand to appraise its weight.
“Ian, could you wait in the ship please?” Sally said with forced calm. “Start preparations for release.”
“Aye,” Ian said, turning to the ladder.
Sally waited until she heard the echo of Ian’s feet clanging on the metal rungs before she trained her gaze on Vlad, who stood with his arms behind his back in a self-righteous pose.
“Just tell me how the hell . . . how in the name of . . . how did you get this onboard without anybody seeing it?”
“I tell the truth, it was well concealed in my belongings. My government saw to it they were not thoroughly checked.”
“Oh, they were thoroughly checked alright,” Sally growled. “But they were checked by your people! God, this corruption makes me sick! Everyone’s got some twisted agenda and a private army of planted moles to carry it out!” She sighed in disgust. “What, are we back in the turn of the century again where anyone could be a terrorist or human bomb even out here?” She held up the gun for emphasis. “But this is a bit much even for a spy, don’t you think?”
“I am not spy!”
“I mean, a knife I could understand,” Sally said, ignoring him. “A poisoned needle, a piece of piano wire, a cyanide tablet, those things would make sense!”
“My government did not send me to spy __”
“But a .45 pistol, fully loaded, and complete with an extra magazine? What kind of trouble were you expecting? Ten bullets each, right? That’s twenty shots and only three of us. Who else did you plan to shoot at out here? While you were at it, did you manage to hide a laser rifle or a canister of nerve gas?”
“I did not plan to harm you!” Vlad insisted. “Understand, my government was concerned! They wanted that I should be protected in case of mutiny or political fighting!”
“You mean they wanted you to win those fights!” she shouted. “You could have taken the ship, couldn’t you? Was that their plan? No, don’t answer that!” She pocketed the gun and turned away. “I’ll deal with this later.”
“Captain, I give this to you!”
“I know you did! And that’s why you’re not dead now.” She regarded him with a particularly menacing stare. “Because, if I’d found this instead of you giving it to me, I’d probably have shot you right here and right now! I mean, haven’t we got enough crap to deal with down there?” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m going to make a deal with you, Coronov. No more! If you have any other contraband I need to know about it now. And I mean anything!”
“Only the gun.”
“Well, next time the channels are clear you tell your people I appreciate the gift but they may be hearing from the Canadian government. Giving me this might have saved your life as well as mine, but I know that’s the only reason you did it. Not to protect Ian and me, but to save your own skin. After all, with both of us down there and you alone up here, what good is a gun? It wouldn’t give you access to the navigation system, I can promise you that!” She turned it over in her hand, feeling the metal grow warmer in her grasp. Then her eyes narrowed on him again. “Just remember, it still may not change anything down there. Don’t forget that for a minute! One gun between the two of us isn’t much protection. The taser doesn’t even count, I always knew that! So, if you have any other weapons, now would be the time to come clean with them.”
He shook his head.
She gave him a final hard stare. “Then wish us luck! We’re going to need it!”
“Good luck,” he said.
Then she then turned and climbed down the ladder, securing the hatch above her as she went.
The shuttlepods were diamond-shaped with grasshopper-like legs that extended in angular arches from the four corners of the lower half when the ship landed. The legs were retracted now, protected by the armor-plated heat shield. The door to the ship folded down from one of the lower facets of the diamond, providing modest room for each person to enter and exit one at a time. It was opened now, throwing light into the otherwise dark metal bay. The end of the hatch ramp didn’t quite touch the metal floor and it bowed slightly as Sally stepped on it.
Ian was seated in the pilot’s couch looking upward at the view port above him, which was actually the front of the ship. The controls were lighted and he was busy performing pre-flight checks. There were two other couches, one on either side of him, positioned farther from the nose of the ship. Sally climbed into the navigator’s couch and strapped herself in. The outer hatch retracted with the hollow clunk of metal clamping against metal. The inner hatch, only a few feet into the interior, hissed shut an instant later. Sally activated her console, looking at it with mild interest. Then she pulled the gun from her pocket and turned it over in her hand.
“Are you a good shot, Ian?”
“Not so much with a pistol,” he said. “My dad and I had a hunting rifle, but that was just a lark.”
“So you never fired a pistol?”
“I trained with various small arms in the RAF. Some of my mates and I were on the team, but I was more interested in logging flight time. When I did shoot, the handgun I was best with was somewhat different than that, of course. That’s a .45, so it’ll likely kick like a bastard. It’s also a Russian make, so I’d expect it to be short on comfort. Best I can suggest, when squeezing off a shot, hold it with both hands and lean forward. Expect powder burns as well.”
She looked at him critically, appraising his build. “Your hands are larger than mine and you seem to know more about guns. If you don’t mind, I’d like you to be in charge of this.”
“As you wish,” he said, turning back to his work.
Sally opened a compartment below her console and placed the gun inside, taking the clip out first. Ian handed over the second clip without having to be asked.
“We’re pressurized and on internal power,” he said matter-of-factly. “The bay is depressurizing and Vlad’s clear of the departure deck. I’ve run the checklist. We should be ready to release in just a few minutes.”
“Proceed when you’re ready.”
The door below them irised open, bathing the bay in reflected light from the planet below, some of it spilling into the ship through the upper windows. The movement of the gyro caused the blue world’s glow to appear and disappear as the pod was carried in and out of its view.
“Better brace yourself, Captain, I’m about to lock the gyro. We’ll lose gravity in a few seconds.”
“Understood.”
Sally grasped the console as the action of the gyro brakes pushed her sideways. She watched the whirling starlight slow in the reflections on the view port. The planet’s glow returned and stabilized as the gyro stopped altogether. Her weight lifted away and she fumbled with the straps, locking herself more tightly into the chair. The planet now sat firmly below them. Waiting.
“All set, Captain?”
“Cut us loose when you’re ready.”
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