Darren Wearmouth: Critical Dawn

He pulled Erika to her feet. “All hands on deck. Come on.”

The Operations Room door was closed. Ben peered through the thick plastic window, which had frosted through age. He could just make out the blurred figures of Maria sitting at the console and Ethan standing over her. He thumped his fist against the plastic. The two inside both turned. Maria ran to the window and shouted something. He couldn’t hear a word above the alarm blasts, shook his head, and gestured to his ear. She pointed to the console. He couldn’t see clearly past a few feet.

“Is there a way to open it? An emergency switch or something?” Erika said.

“No, they’re controlled externally. We might have a fire on the ship. Wait here.”

He opened a cupboard next to the supply hatch and rummaged through the tools. Ben grabbed a wrecking bar and returned to the door. Erika was trying to communicate something through the window.

“Stand back. Give me some room,” Ben said.

He’d got used to the squashed confines, but now it felt like the walls were closing in. Ben faced his first real situation. The bellowing alarm and blinking lights had made the place come alive in a way he hadn’t witnessed before. The prospect of having more excitement in his life suddenly became a lot less appealing.

After managing to jam the toe of the bar into a groove, he placed his foot against the wall for leverage and heaved. The door opened a couple inches then snapped elastically shut.

“Give me a hand. Grab the end of the bar,” he said.

The door squeezed open a few more inches. Ben felt sweat running down his back. He was about to let go when a chair leg shot through the opened space. The door banged against it and settled, leaving a small gap.

Maria stood on the other side.

“We need you in here. There’s a serious problem,” she said.

“Get Ethan over here. It’ll take the four of us to get this open,” Ben said. He turned to Erika. “Find something solid to wedge in the gap.”

“Like what?”

“Grab the toolbox. That should do it.”

He gazed into the Operations Room. Three of the critical measurements were red. The fourth was green, stable. An electric crackle came from the console followed by a wisp of smoke.

Four hands appeared, gripping around the door.

Ben positioned the bar. Erika returned, leaned under him with the toolbox by her feet.

“After three,” Ben shouted. He tried to count down between the rhythmic pulses of the alarm. “One… Two… Three.”

They managed to create a two-foot gap. All seemed to be shouting through exertion in unison. Erika grunted next to his ear.

“Now. Do it,” Ben said.

She ducked down. The door closed a few inches against their pull. Erika slid the box in place.

Ben couldn’t hold any longer. He let go and bent over double, resting his hands on his knees, gulping for air. The door crunched against the toolbox, but it held firm and did its job.

He straightened and edged through the gap. A burning smell hit him as he approached the console. Not like the type when he over-cooked food, this odor had a bitter edge. The crew converged around him.

“We’ve escalated the problem. No response,” Maria said.

Ben looked at the switches on the console. “You tried the manual override?”

“Same thing. What can we do?”

He was struggling to hear a thing. “Take the bar and stop that fucking noise.”

Erika grabbed the tool from the floor. Ethan dragged a chair to the corner of the Operations Room. In each area of the compartment was a circular plastic speaker on the ceiling.

Ben flicked the override switches. Nothing. He pressed the console screen to escalate. No response.

He pressed again several times. “Come on.”

The fourth critical measurement shot from green to red.

Sparks fizzed from behind the console, spitting across the room. Maria jumped back.

Thumping came from behind him as Ethan and Erika attacked the speaker.

Ben depressed the call button. “Master Control. This is the Operations Room. Do you copy?” He waited for a response. “Master Control. Are you there?”

Maria shook his shoulder. “All eight are red. All eight are red.”

He glanced at the status bars.

The alarm took on a high-pitched whistle. Ben turned to see that they’d broken off the protective plastic cover. Maria cupped her ears from the piercing sound. Ethan winced as he thrust the bar against a concave, black internal structure.

After what seemed to be minutes but was probably seconds, the shrill stopped. The jarring pulse continued in other areas of the compartment.

“You want us to do the rest?” Erika said.

“Okay. You two do that. We’ll deal with the fallout later,” Ben said.

Ethan and Erika left the room.

He tried the console screen again, pressing harder against the glass. Trying to get any kind of response from the icons.

He thumbed the call button again. “Master Control. Are you there? Master Control…”

“It’s no use. I was trying before…” Maria said.

“Well, we keep trying—”

The light flickered off, leaving the Operations Room dimly illuminated by the red status bars and green console screen.

“Master Control. Can you hear me?” Ben said.

The speaker buzzed and crackled. “This is Control.”

He bolted toward the speaker. “Thank God. Can you update us?”

“Activate stasis preservation in two minutes.”

“Roger that. What’s happening?”

Maria yelped after a loud, electric snap from below the console. Sparks shot across the floor. The screen faded to black, leaving only the red status bars to give off any kind of ambience.

“Control, are you there?… Control?” Ben said. He turned to Maria. “I think it’s died.”

“What did they mean?”

“Stay here, I’ll tell you when I get back,” Ben said.

“Ben, wait…”

“We’ve got an option. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Ben squeezed through the gap in the door. The toolbox was reinforced with a metal table from the sleeping quarters. The door mechanism unsuccessfully shunted against the obstacles.

At the end of the corridor, Ethan hacked away at another speaker, and Erika held the chair steady in support.

“Meet me in the Ops Room,” Ben shouted. Neither acknowledged. They probably couldn’t hear him from their position next to the alarm. He’d grab them on his way back.

Ben entered the sleeping quarters, a small room with two bunks on either side, four lockers at the end, and a door to the bathroom. The lights had cut, and the alarm boomed overhead. Ben opened his locker and swiped his spare clothing to one side. He fumbled in the dark, grabbed a metal card from the back shelf, and stuffed it in his pocket.

He flinched as a hand grasped his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Erika said.

Ethan appeared in the gloom, holding the wrecking bar. “Just this one to go. We can’t get in the common room.”

“Come with me. Now. We’re getting out of here,” Ben said.

“Leaving?” Erika said.

“I’ll explain when we’re all together.”

“Okay, lead the way.”

He felt his way along a bunk and headed back toward the red glow of the Operations Room. Maria sat away from the console, which was starting to smoke.

“Come out here. It’s not safe in there,” Ben said.

She stepped over the toolbox and table. They stood in a huddle next to the supply hatch.

Ben pulled the metal card out of his pocket and held it up. Six numbers were stamped across the middle. The crew leaned toward him for a closer inspection.

“Listen up. A week before Jimmy left, he gave me this,” Ben said.

“What is it?” Maria said.