Homesick -
Chapter Fifty-Nine - The Fire God
She glanced at her watch and sat back in her chair, letting her eyes begin to close. She could almost see the blue of the planet through her eyelids as it crossed the window, overpowering the glow of the candle.
The mood was broken by the door chime. With a dutiful sigh, she rose and looked out the small window to see Ian standing silently with his hands behind his back. She opened the door and greeted him with a tired smile.
“I’m sorry, Captain,” Ian said, noting the comfortable setting beyond the door. “I didn’t know you were occupied.”
“No, it’s all right. Please come in, I could actually use the company.”
His attention was immediately drawn to the candle. He examined it critically while cautiously approaching the table.
“Don’t worry, it won’t set off the fire suppressers.” Sally chuckled.
“It’s real, then?” Ian said with mild surprise.
“It’s a promise I made to Jackie. I know it probably seems silly, but she asked me to light it before we left the planet as a sort of celebration.” She smiled reflectively, as if she were a parent sharing stories of her child. “I guess it’s supposed to be like a prayer.”
“Well, that’s one prayer that’ll be answered soon, hopefully. There’s only about thirty minutes until we start the pre-burn. Is everything ready here?”
“Yeah, I engaged the automatic setting and okayed the checklist. Everything shows green on my board. I noticed you signed off on navigation and fuel consumption. Naturally, we’ll want to be in the cone when the actual burn takes place.”
“And Anderson?”
“I’ve got him secured in a kind of net I had Vlad make. He can still act out his movements, but it should keep him from getting hurt when we take off. I also had Dr. Poole time his sleep period to include the burn time. Hopefully that’ll help.”
She looked to the window again, studying the patterns of blue and white on the world below. Ian noticed her interest.
“I guess I was taking a last look at the planet,” she admitted. “It’s not exactly a place I’d care to live, but it’s beautiful and it looks a bit like Earth.”
“Yes, it does at that.” Ian followed the planet with his eyes as it disappeared above their view. “It’s also the only safe haven we’ll see for the next six months. Oxygen, water . . .” He shook his head. “But I don’t mind telling you, I’ll be glad to get short of it.”
“You and me both! Which reminds me, I have something for you.” She walked to her console and removed a shiny object from one of her drawers, holding it out to him. “This is your new command level key. I had the computer program it for you this morning.”
She put it into his hand and studied his reaction. “Next time you log on, you’ll be gold!” she said, trying to elicit some enthusiasm.
Ian looked down at the key and then to her, as if uncertain.
“Congratulations!” she tried again, taking his hand and shaking it. “I know these aren’t ideal circumstances for a promotion, but you’ll need command level access to take Scott’s place as chief pilot. Do you feel up to it?”
Ian turned the key over in his hand, examining the etched electronic pathways. “Are you sure, Captain?”
“I am if you are!” She clapped him on the shoulder. “After seeing your brilliant work getting us back from the planet, it’s a no-brainer from where I sit. I know you’ll have some big shoes to fill, but I know you can do it. I’m particularly concerned about our angle to the asteroid belt. It’s going to take some clever navigation to get us through. I could really use your magic! You showed me most of what I’ll need to know as co-pilot and I’ve read up on the systems. I think I’ve gotten to the point where I could assist, but the big chair belongs to you when the engines come on. I want to get home, after all!”
Ian still looked unsure. “I only mean that Vlad would also be eligible for the promotion, technically. He has a reasonable flight rating and the Russian Space Ministry might try to make a case for favoritism if he isn’t considered. Especially since you and I have worked together before.”
“Let them! Even if that’s true, it’s my call! Otherwise, what’s the point of being captain? As I said, I want to return to Earth safely! This isn’t politics. If I honestly thought Vlad was the best man for the job, he’d get it even if I hated his guts!”
“There’s also the matter of the checking you’ve been doing on him lately,” Ian added. “If he’s even remotely aware of that, he might be able to prove harassment. That would be harder to do if he were promoted to chief pilot.”
“Yeah, well I can make waves too. Besides, giving him a gold key wouldn’t help me sleep at night.” She took Ian’s shoulders. “Please, Ian, I need you on this. I can deal with Vlad if I have to.”
“Of course, Captain, if you prefer.” He stood up straighter.
She patted his shoulder in agreement. But then she stepped back and paced for a moment, as if contemplating something that bothered her. “Ian, you know you don’t have to call me ‘Captain’ in here,” she said with a hint of awkwardness. “In fact, I’d prefer you didn’t. ‘Sally’ will do. I know you’ve been speaking in formal terms out of respect and I appreciate how you’ve helped me settle into this role, but, to be honest, I’ve never gotten used to that title. When I headed up research teams, I tried to be on a first name basis with most of the people I worked with.” She paused, studying his reaction. “Unless that makes you uncomfortable.”
“No . . . Sally,” Ian tried it on. “And, actually, this was to be a social call.”
“Oh?”
“I never really thanked you for giving me that talking to when I needed it. And . . . well, you know, the other thing.”
She smiled. “Did she call?”
“Yes. No VR yet, but we talked.” Ian grinned. “She found out about my row with Obilion, as it happens. You know, the bit where I booted her from the ship at gun point.” He laughed. “I guess that means I’m not likely to be working for them, now doesn’t it?”
“Oh, Ian, I’m so glad! I’m sure things will work out with you two!”
“Yes, I’m sure they will.” Then he looked nervous again, as if he were about to ask her out on a date. “I also . . . wanted to . . .”
“What?” Sally grinned playfully.
“I wanted to offer you a drink . . . Sally.”
“Well, that’s awfully nice of you, but as you can see we don’t have much of a . . .”
Ian reached into his hip pockets and withdrew two sample-sized liquor bottles.
“Why Ian!” Sally laughed. “Contraband? You? That’s the last thing I’d have expected!”
Ian stammered. “Well, actually, I brought them by accident. I got them on the plane from Gatwick and left them in my bag. I guess the team didn’t check too carefully.” He dangled the bottles for her inspection, looking like a child trying to explain what happened to his homework.
Sally’s smile broadened. “Your nose is getting longer, Pinocchio! But don’t worry, you I believe! Anyway, it’s not like this mission has gone by the numbers.”
Ian nodded in agreement.
“Give me one of those!”
He did, looking relieved.
“Cognac?” she asked, turning the bottle over in her hand.
“My favorite.”
Sally unscrewed the top and held it to her nose. “Let’s have a seat and enjoy the view. We still have a few minutes.”
They sat across from each other, the candle glowing between them. Ian regarded the flame. “Traditions. We all have them. A good-luck drink is probably the oldest one. Scott always found a way. In fact, were we to search this vessel carefully, we’d most probably find an even grander bottle somewhere. Not cognac, though. Beer I should think. Micro-brewed beer. The old boy knew every hole-in-the-wall brewery in every city you could name.” Then he withdrew the silver dollar from his jacket pocket and set it on the table.
“I never knew the story behind that. A pilot’s tradition?”
“Not entirely, but it will be from now on. Scott’s little decision maker. Saves the gray cells in a pinch.”
“Really? He flipped a coin to make decisions?”
“All things being equal, yes. It didn’t come out often, but when it did . . .” He shook his head. “We flipped for the landing, you know.”
Sally’s face dropped.
“It could’ve been me down in that camp. You could be having this conversation with Scott right now over a foamy lager. Heads or tails . . . makes a world of difference.”
“I never knew that.” Sally eyed the coin with a mixture of respect and perhaps fear. “I can’t imagine how that must make you feel.”
Ian shrugged. “It had to be one of us.”
Sally nodded. “You were both qualified, but Scott was in command. I guess I’d always assumed that was the deciding factor.”
“The decision was his, yes, but that’s one of those calls a man can’t make on his own. You see, we were all going down sooner or later, but only one of us could plant the flag.”
Sally looked quizzical.
“Christopher Columbus, Yuri Gagarin, Neil Armstrong . . . Scott Anderson. I didn’t see it, but I know he had a flag tucked away his suit.”
“What?”
“Old Glory, of course! He’s American!” Ian laughed. “I’ve got a Union Jack in my quarters, I’m quite sure Vlad’s got his emblem, and you can’t tell me you didn’t bring along the maple leaf, now can you?”
Sally smiled. “Maybe.”
Ian tapped the coin. “One toss! Double or quits! All the difference in the world! Differences I don’t care to imagine! Differences I couldn’t imagine.”
Sally turned the coin over in her hand. “Fate. Don’t feel guilty.”
He shook his head. “We were gambling over the risk. We all knew it might not go well.”
“But we did bring him home,” Sally reminded him.
“Amen!” He agreed. Then he raised his glass. “Cheers!”
“To good friends. And to a nice, boring, uneventful, and safe journey home!”
Their bottles clinked and they both sipped at them. “Oh, I’ve missed that!” Sally said, smelling the aroma from the lip of the bottle with her eyes closed.
“Well, wait six months and you can have as much as you like. On me!”
“And I’ll get the dinner!” Sally’s eyes brightened. “There’s a great Italian restaurant in Maastricht that nobody knows about. You’d love it, and so would Angela. God knows we’ll have a lot to celebrate!”
Ian smiled, clearly more at ease.
“You know, Ian, when we get back or even while we’re on route, you’d be more than welcome to visit me and Jackie. She’s likes you, you know. Especially after she found out you saved my life.”
“Well, I don’t know that I did, but I’d like that. Visiting, I mean. And, if Angela ever lets me back home, I’m sure you’d be as welcome there as I am,” he added with a laugh.
“Maybe we can double date. If Angela wouldn’t mind, of course. I know she’s a bit more traditional than you are.”
“Well, pay no mind to that. After what we’ve all been through, I’m sure she can put that aside, at least in your case.”
“Thank you, Ian.” She touched his hand. “And thank you for accepting me as I am. I know many people still don’t.” She looked out the window. “Vlad doesn’t.”
“Vlad,” Ian pondered. “I never really took to the man. I mean, he’s a good engineer, remarkable in fact. But, off the record, I’m not too fond of him as a person. Still, I wouldn’t think him capable of . . . well . . .”
“Treason? Consorting with those monsters? No charges have been made. I’m just doing a little checking. And all you did was tap the communication channels, right? If we don’t find anything, we don’t.”
He shrugged. “Nothing so far. And I was pretty thorough.”
“It’s not an inquisition, Ian, just some precautions. And it’ll stop the moment we’re out of range of the planet.” She looked at him with some concern. “Do you really have a problem with this?”
“Oh, no. I’d most probably be doing the same in your position. It’s obvious the man has his secrets and he’s fairly good at hiding them. Really, it’s only that . . . Well, this may sound a bit crass, but I almost want to say he wouldn’t have the guts to be a traitor, if you want the truth. But, to be fair, I do feel a bit guilty checking up on him when all we have to go on is . . .”
“Jackie’s painting?” Sally finished for him. “You can say it, Ian. I know it sounds silly.”
“Look, Sally, my Gran was clairvoyant. I’m not saying there’s nothing to it. It’s just that legally . . .”
“Legally, I’d look like a fool if I had to explain why I’ve been spying on a fellow crewmember, right?”
“Well, yes, especially where the New Soviets are concerned. Image means a lot to them, and they tend to be touchy about things like this. Even an implied suspicion . . . Well, some of them seem to do nothing but look for excuses to cry foul.”
“But we haven’t been spying on him. Monitoring communication channels during a crisis isn’t spying. If you contacted the surface, I’d know, too! And you’d know if I did.”
He nodded. “Well, truth be told, I did go a bit deeper than just that.”
Sally grinned. “How much deeper?”
“Well, it’s no secret I know my way around the systems here. Sometimes a pilot’s life depends on getting a ship to do things the designers didn’t intend. I was able to get a look at some of his console activity.”
Sally leaned forward. “Anything?”
He shrugged. “Yes and no. Believe me, if I’d come across a smoking gun, I’d have told you straight away, but . . .”
“But what?”
Ian looked up, as if reluctant to go on. “I’m seeing a lot of incomplete inquiries. I see calculation requests and database queries that don’t match up to any projects on his account.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The system isn’t all that secure. Most people who’ve worked out here any length of time can trace computer activity with ease. And encrypting files or putting up security blocks generally invites further attention. But he’s not using the system much at all, less than would really be possible for him to do his job. It’s like his real work is being done elsewhere. I’d say whatever he’s hiding is on his hand-held.”
“But they interface, don’t they?”
He nodded. “But not his. It’s off the system. It’s also not standard issue. It’s New Soviet technology, and that means it’s not fully compatible. I’ve always got the impression he likes it that way.”
“So an incomplete inquiry indicates . . .”
“I’ll bet he’s using the system only to do calculations he can’t do on his hand-held.”
“And directly searching the hand-held would be an obvious violation of his privacy,” Sally said, admiring his cunning.
“Also, being New Soviet property, we’re not allowed any jurisdiction over it. Unless he specifically gives you permission, tampering with that thing could cause an international incident.”
“Any idea what he’s working on?”
Ian shook his head. “But that’s the real issue. He could be doing legitimate work. He could claim he prefers the interface. And, even if he is actually hiding something, it doesn’t have to be something important. We might find his pornography stash, for example, or some kind of personal project. Even if he’s up to no good, there are plenty of things he could be doing that wouldn’t actually matter to us and aren’t necessarily illegal.”
“And you don’t think he’s out to make an alliance with the Masters?”
He shook his head. “Don’t ask me why, but my gut says no.”
“Well, I hope your gut is right in this case.”
Ian sighed. “Well, to be frank, I’d rather be wrong. At least if we had proof of something like this we could do something about it. I’m concerned we may have this thing all wrong. What if it has nothing to do with him at all?”
“Scott, you mean?”
“No, I’m thinking about other things. I checked the engines this morning, for example. Nothing specific, just a lark. I even opened the vacuum seal in the engineering module and looked for anything out of place.”
“And?”
“Nothing.”
“What about the stuff the aliens brought with them? Anything there?”
He shook his head. “Your basic gold and silver alloys. I’m sure the gems would fetch a pretty penny, but nothing dangerous.”
“The cocaine was real enough, too,” Sally said with disapproval. “It would have earned enough on the street to retire some greedy bureaucrat back home if we’d kept it. And that’s even considering the stuff isn’t so popular these days.”
“Perhaps something else then. The power grid maybe.”
Sally took Ian’s hand. “It’s also possible this could just have been a dream. Even psychics just have dreams sometimes. And Jackie doesn’t really consider herself a psychic anyway, at least not fulltime. But I do appreciate your being thorough.”
She looked at her watch. “I think we have just enough time for one more toast.”
“To Scott’s recovery,” Ian said, taking up his bottle.
“Cheers!” Sally agreed.
But, just as they raised their tiny bottles to touch, the bright light filled the room from the planet below. Perhaps it was exactly then that Earth’s moon reached its height of fullness in the night sky above Eindhoven, The Netherlands. And, across unknown billions of miles, the tiny ship known as Kelthy happened to be in just the right position around the dull blue world for Sally and Ian to bear witness to Jackie’s true prophesy. Indeed, the rotation of the gyro rod could not have been timed more perfectly. Because, at the very moment the great light appeared on its surface, the planet was in full view of the window, bathing Sally and Ian in an eerie blue glow!
Sally stared while the light faded as mysteriously as it had appeared, shrinking into a smoky gray spot amongst the clouds. “What the hell?” She sprung to her feet.
Ian leapt up and rushed for the console.
“Ian, get to the cone! Find out if that’s a weapon! Get ready to take evasive action! I’ll secure the hatches!”
Ian ran as she jammed her key into the console and entered hurried commands on the emergency menu. She could hear the clunk of emergency doors closing one after another, starting aft and working closer. She ripped her key out, blew at the candle, and rushed from her room, leaping into the pilot’s cone just before its hatch clunked shut behind her. She took her seat and strapped in, looking frantically for news.
“Anything, Ian? Is it a missile?” She lit up her controls and hovered over them, but saw nothing she could interpret.
Ian stared at the pilot’s display silently, his body completely still.
“Ian, is it a missile?” she repeated.
He shook his head. As he did, some drool escaped from his mouth and he quickly wiped it away. Sally studied him with new concern. He didn’t look worried, as she thought he would be, but rather amazed, thoughtful, and a little sad.
“What?”
Ian continued to stare at the screen for a moment before facing Sally with a faraway expression. His voice coughed to life, as if his words were caustic in his mouth. “It’s not a missile, Captain. What we just saw was an atomic explosion in the atmosphere about seven miles above the surface of the planet. It was a big blast, too. It looks to have taken out at least a twenty mile radius.”
Sally’s jaw dropped, the meaning of his words gradually building in her mind.
“The affected area is the continent where we met the Masters. I’d say the intended target was the palaces themselves.”
Sally gasped and stared at the console in front of her. The planet’s cloud pattern was displayed as a mathematical model, showing a swirling dark mass growing within the white shapes. The mass seemed to spiral in on itself and billow outward at the same time. She switched to the surface map, which showed a great white spot in the center of where the dark mass had been. The spot represented heat. It glowed like a huge bull’s-eye, whitest in the center and radiating out to orange and red. It pulsated, indicating surface fires sparking and dying down. She stared at the white spot on the screen until her eyes were dry and she had to close them tight.
“Captain, I have to tell you this didn’t originate from the planet.”
Sally stared at him, unable to speak.
“I’ve just checked our logs. It seems an unscheduled atmospheric probe was launched less than ten minutes ago from the departure deck. And I’m sure, when I check the power grid, I’ll find that one of our redundant fusion reactors is missing, complete with its plutonium battery. And how that bastard did it without my knowing is beyond me!”
“My God, Ian!” Her eyes lit up in horror. “Do you know how many people are down there?”
He nodded, looking out the cone into the darkness.
“We’ve got to help,” she said, unstrapping herself. “I’ll pull together the medical supplies. We’ll need everything in the medical area!”
Ian looked to her in sudden alarm. “Sally, no, there’s nothing we can do about it now __”
“Like hell there isn’t!” She got up awkwardly, grabbing for her key and turning to face the door.
But at that instant an alarm klaxon sounded and they could feel a gentle vibration beginning in the floor and a low rumble stirring the air. “Captain, where are you going?”
“I’ve got to get down there! They need help! I’ll take Shuttlepod Three!”
“No!” Ian shouted, grabbing her with both hands and lifting her from the deck, her legs kicking. He could see tears forming in her eyes. “For pity sake, Sally, there’s nothing you can do!”
“Let go of me!” she yelled, struggling against his grip.
“Sally, Please!”
The rumbling grew louder.
“Don’t you understand? Those people have all been burned alive and I’ve got to get down there! We did it! They need our help!”
Ian continued to fight with her, and their grappling began to seem eerily like the struggle in Jackie’s painting. He grabbed her shoulders again, forcing her tortured face to become level with his.
“Do you feel that?” He pointed below with his chin. “That’s the pre-burn starting! We’re leaving orbit! Now, for pity sake, strap in!”
“Then stop it!”
Ian’s face contorted in frustration. “Sally, you know I can’t do that! My God, this is the launch sequence! If I interrupt the cycle now, we’ll __”
“Damn it!” She punched at the air. Then she pushed off Ian’s shoulders, letting herself down, and leaped towards the corridor, colliding with the sealed emergency bulkhead.
Then the world jerked sideways in a series of staccato bursts as the gyro brakes nulled the ship’s rotation, momentarily sending her into a cartwheel.
“It’s too late, Captain!” Ian begged. “Please sit down!”
Suddenly the bulkhead became the floor as the main engines roared to life. She felt her face impact with cold metal and the rumble distorted Ian’s voice. The roar became constant as the ship steered itself closer to the planet for slingshot. Then the engines ebbed slightly, letting the gravity of the planet pull at their weight.
“Now Sally! Please!” Ian yelled, navigating himself into his own couch. “We’ve got seconds!”
Groggily, Sally reached for the captain’s couch and pulled herself in with great effort, hurriedly fastening the straps. Ian watched from his seat, drawing a great sigh of relief.
Then the fury began. The gentle roar became a screaming howl as the main engines spilled their heavy cargo of fuel into the great fire that pushed them forward. Sally’s breath left her and she sank deep into the padding of the couch. Had she been out of the couch at that moment, her bones would surely have been crushed on the hard metal surface of the bulkhead!
The fury continued and the planet crept backwards from their view until it was out of sight. Sally’s eyes could barely focus on the monitors in front of her, but she could see the bright sphere disappearing behind them on their aft displays, as if it were dissolving into the darkness of space.
Then, inexplicably, the force increased yet again, as if in one final, heavy push, growing louder and harder until no human pilot could have moved even the smallest muscle. She felt her backbone make contact with the metal frame of the command couch as the rest of her breath was squeezed from her lungs.
Then, as abruptly as it started, the fury stopped. The ship became quiet and she found herself released from the great G-forces, as if a huge restraining hand had been removed from her chest. Seconds later, the gyro whirred to life and the emergency bulkhead retracted, revealing the spinning corridor beyond.
Ian looked over at her, out of breath. He could see that her face was red from effort and rage. “God, I’m sorry, Captain. You know I am.”
She looked out at the emptiness beyond and said nothing.
Ian scrolled through the screens on his console, falling back on duty to fill the silence. “No problems with the burn. We’re on course, no problems.”
As Sally gazed out the window ahead, she suddenly noticed that her view was now dominated by her own reflection. When they had been in orbit, light from the planet obscured it. She could now see her face, cast in cold anger and despair, just as it had been in Jackie’s painting. She remembered her struggle with Ian and contemplated its meaning. She then thought of the great white heat they had seen devour the planet from the window.
“It was the fire god,” she whispered. “I was on the wrong track from the beginning!”
“Captain?”
“Ian, I want you to do some things for me now,” she said, not looking in his direction.
“Yes.” He unstrapped himself and stood.
“First, find Vlad and escort him to his quarters.” She swallowed hard. “Once there, I want you to lock him in. Use your command key for that. Then get to your console and revoke all his privileges. Cut his communication lines with Earth, VR, Net, everything. If it’s easier, just smash his console or cut the power, I don’t care. Get that hand-held of his, too, and get to work on it.”
“Yes,”
“Then I want you to find out exactly what he did and how he did it. If he talks to you, record every word he says.” She faced him. “I need you to do this because, if I try to talk to him now, I’ll probably rip his guts out. Report back to me as soon as you know something.”
“Yes, of course.”
“That will be all for now, Mr. Merryfield,” she said, turning back to the window.
He paused for a moment, looking at her profile. “Captain, are you sure . . .”
“No,” she whispered. “But let’s leave it at that for now.”
Awkwardly, Ian climbed onto the spinning vestibule and lined himself up with the door before proceeding out into the corridor.
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