James Gardner - Space Inc (collection)

“What about your appetite?”

“I don’t think I’ve been eating as much as I usually do.” He paused. “Actually, I’ve noticed people seem to be eating less in general.”

“People all over the base have been coming to me with similar symptoms. Billy’s got blisters like you. Others have been complaining about nosebleeds, loss of appetite, nausea, and vomiting. Even I’ve felt light-headed sometimes.”

“What would cause these symptoms?” Jamie asked.

Maria exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling for several seconds before replying. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but… the symptoms appear to be consistent with low-level radiation sickness.”

A knot formed in Jamie’s stomach. “Who else knows?”

“Crenshaw, Montreal… and now, you.”

Jamie’s voice was trembling. “Wh-what do we do? Do we… are we all going to get cancer or something?”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions. According to the monitors, we weren’t exposed to a dangerous dose.”

“What if they’re wrong?” Jamie exclaimed. “After what happened on Banting, how do we know… what if the company didn’t build the shelters to spec?”

“Both Sarah and I show normal white blood cell counts. That’s the weird part. If it’s radiation sickness, particularly sickness advanced enough that we’re seeing vomiting and nausea, we should also have reduced white blood cells.”

Jamie calmed down, a little. “So what else could it be? Food poisoning?”

“You tell me.”

Jamie thought for a moment. “It’s not likely. The refrigeration systems in both the kitchen and the logistics module are fine. Almost everything I make is well-cooked, especially since we lost the greenhouse. Also, we eat a wide variety of foods, so it can’t be any one item.”

“That’s what I thought.”

An uneasy silence fell between them.

“If it is radiation sickness, or even it isn’t, you’ve got to tell people,” Jamie said at last.

“We can’t say anything until we know for sure,” Maria said. “We’d cause a panic.”

Jamie spotted the table with Billy Lu and Suhana Aziz.

“May I join you?”

Suhana looked up. “The chef graces us with his presence.”

“Have a seat,” Billy said.

Suhana poked her fork halfheartedly into her spaghetti.

“Something wrong?” Jamie asked.

“We almost had an accident in the field today,” she said.

“What happened?”

“Freddie Wilson was out doing an induction coil change-out on the mass driver. The IVA guy, Grant McPherson, was supposed to have applied inhibits to the power bus before Freddie even went out, to give enough time for the capacitors to discharge. Except, he didn’t Caught his mistake at the last minute, thank goodness. I could hear him screaming on the loops, ‘Don’t touch the coil, Freddie! Don’t touch the coil!”‘ Suhana shook her head. “It was damn close.”

“I know Grant,” Billy said. “That’s not like him at all. He’s one of the most careful guys I know.”

“He said he was feeling tired, a little dizzy,” Suhana said. “Just lost his concentration for a moment.”

Jamie looked at the unfinished plates of spaghetti. “How do you guys feel?”

“I don’t seem to have much of an appetite. But your cooking’s great, as usual,” Billy added quickly.

“Sometimes, I feel like I want to throw up,” Suhana said, “and I haven’t been eating much either.”

“Have you guys talked to—”

Jamie was interrupted by three short beeps, indicating the monitor was about to come on. Seconds later, Crenshaw’s image appeared on the screen.

“This is a general announcement for all personnel. Staff are to report to Dr. Clarkson immediately for medical evaluations. Individual appointments have been scheduled and will be downlinked to your organizers within the hour. Every attempt has been made to accommodate shift requirements, but should you be unable to make your appointment, please reschedule with Dr. Clarkson at the earliest opportunity.”

The mess hall erupted with noise even before the screen went dark.

“Something’s wrong, and they’re not telling us!” Jamie could hear Paul shouting over the commotion. “That solar storm did something to us!”

Jamie entered the infirmary, a tray of freshly baked cookies in one hand, a pot of coffee in the other.

“Chocolate chip?” Maria was impressed. “You got another waiver for the oven?”

Jamie nodded. “Crew morale.”

“Where the hell did you get the chocolate?”

“Base facility food manager’s discretionary logistical supply,” Jamie said as he put the coffee and cookies on her desk. “In other words, my own personal hoard. For special occasions only.”

“What’s the occasion?” Maria asked before taking a bite.

“Our last week alive.”

Maria almost choked on her cookie. “That’s not funny!”

“Maybe I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

“Jamie, I don’t know exactly what’s going on yet, but I do know a few things. One thing is, we are not going to die… at least, not this week.” She stared at Jamie. “Did you hear me?”

Jamie nodded slowly. “What else do you know?”

Maria grabbed another cookie from the tray. “I know you make great cookies, Mr. Squires.”

Jamie did not sleep well. Over the past few days, he started having thoughts that somebody was tampering with the food. Twice he woke in a cold sweat, the second time going so far as to get dressed and run out to check the kitchen. When he returned to bed, his dreams were of Paul… and Maria.

He woke up feeling nauseated. Much like a hangover, except that he hadn’t been drinking. He wished that he had, because it would at least have made waking up like this worthwhile. The shower made him feel better, but his gums were tender when he brushed his teeth, and when he finished his toothbrush was pink.

Jamie stepped out of his quarters and headed for the mess hall. The corridor was practically empty at this hour. Such was the call of duty, to prepare breakfast for the Shift One crew.

He turned a corner—and was suddenly grabbed from behind and thrown against the bulkhead.

“Paul!”

The big man tightened his grip, pressing hard against Jamie’s chest. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know damn well! People are sick all over base. Nobody’s saying anything. But you…” Paul jabbed a finger into Jamie’s chest. “I know you’ve been talking to Maria. We’re all sick from the solar storm, right?”

Paul tightened his grip when Jamie did not answer. “Joe McKay barfed in his suit last shift. Pretty gross, huh? He’s lucky we’re on the Moon. If he’d been in free space, he could’ve suffocated.” He brought his face right up against Jamie’s. “So, what is happening to us?”

“I don’t know,” Jamie repeated. “I’m sorry about Joe, but I really don’t know. I haven’t been feeling so hot myself. Why don’t you ask Maria or Crenshaw?”

“Oh, I’ll definitely be talking to Maria,” Paul said. “But I thought I’d ask you first.”

“Yeah, well I’m just the stupid cook, remember?” Jamie decided he’d had enough. “You’ve been on my case since I got here! You’re just jealous because Maria doesn’t—”

Paul raised his fist. “What the hell do you know about Maria, kitchen boy?”

“Paul!”

Jamie turned his eyes and saw Suhana Aziz.

“Leave him alone.”

“He knows something!”

Suhana said calmly, “I know that I kicked your ass in aikido last year, and you can be damn sure I can do it again, right here, right now.”

With a growl, Paul let go of Jamie. He glared at him for a moment, then abruptly turned and walked away.