Andrew Morgan - Vessel

‘How about the R2 GM robonaut? Can we get clearance to send that out?’

‘We’re waiting on that as well.’

‘What’s the hold up?’

Aleks sighed.

‘The usual. Politics, paperwork, red tape — you know how it is.’

‘I do, but I wish I didn’t.’

‘Tell me about it. Alright, next on the list is the METI standard protocol broadcasts.’

Mikhail snorted. ‘Really? You want to send some old coded messages to it?’

‘Not my decision, so let’s run both Hello from Earth and RuBisCo Stars anyway.’

‘Roger. Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence broadcast lined up and ready to go five by five.’

‘Copy. Proceed when ready.’ Aleks twiddled his pen between his fingers as he waited. Although he was almost certain that the METI broadcasts wouldn’t get a response, he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if they did.

‘TsUP, METI deployed,’ Mikhail confirmed.

Aleks’ chest fluttered with nervous excitement that he pushed back down again with reserved reason. ‘Roger. Continue with METI broadcasts at one-hour intervals,’ he said.

‘Copy, one-hour intervals.’

Aleks made a note of the time. ‘Stay safe up there,’ he said. ‘And please, seriously, let us know if there is any change in your situation, any change at all.’ He knew Mikhail understood what he meant.

‘Don’t you worry about us,’ Mikhail said.

‘Okay. TsUP out.’

‘RS0ISS out.’

Aleks took off his headset, and despite the ongoing chatter in the room, he felt a strange sense of isolation. As well as a gurgling unease in his gut about his friend’s wellbeing, he didn’t know what to make of the knowledge that whatever was up there with them wasn’t there by accident. ‘And now we wait,’ he said to himself.

An hour later, he finished his shift and handed over so he could go and get some rest. He needed it, but despite his exhaustion, he tossed in his bunk for what seemed like the millionth time since he had clambered in. Although his eyes stung and his body ached, sleep seemed to evade him. The air-conditioned room, one of many provided by the RFSA, was cool, but his body burned with a feverish heat that seemed to tie the sheets around his body in a sweaty, sticky jumble of limbs and cotton.

Frustrated, he kicked the sheets off and clicked the lamp on. Its glow painted the darkness away from the mix of browns, beiges and washed-out purples that made up the temporary accommodation. He sat up and yawned, the heavy weight of fatigue hanging from his eyelids, and let the soles of his feet rest on the scratchy carpet. He shuffled into the adjoining bathroom, yesterday’s crumpled heap of clothing still on the floor. Yesterday felt like days ago. He looked at his watch, a cheap digital thing his ex-wife had got him, and swore to himself under his breath.

Shit, he thought, only one o’clock?

He had been in bed longer than he’d realised, but for less time than he’d hoped. He would need to be up, washed, dressed and back smiling at his station in less than five hours, and the very thought made him want to curl up and die. For a moment he longed for his own bed back home, but he remembered it was just as empty and lonely as the one here. The overnight room was pretty convenient come to think about it. He shuffled back to bed, accepting that he would have to lie there and wait for the sound of the alarm.

But that sound didn’t come — it didn’t have a chance to. Shuddering awake, his eyes searched the darkness, hunting for the dream that roused him. The screaming silence mellowed, and he eased himself back onto his pillow, taking deep breaths of the cool, dry air to ease his skipping heart.

Thump, thump, thump.

There it was again, the noise from his dream. His semi-conscious brain fumbled for an answer, but the wires weren’t connecting. Then, a muffled voice called through the door: ‘Mr Dezhurov, sir? Are you there?’

The dream was gone for good as conscious and subconscious snapped back to together in an instant. ‘I’m coming,’ he croaked. He got up, grabbed a dressing gown from the otherwise empty closet, threaded his arms through the sleeves and wrapped it around himself, yawning as he slouched to the door. He looked at his watch. It read: 3:49am . Opening the door a crack, he squinted at the silhouette of a man standing outside. As his eyes adjusted, he saw the man was practically a boy, a young soldier wearing the uniform of the centre’s security.

‘What?’ Aleks said.

‘Sorry to disturb you, sir. You’re needed in Mission Control.’

The soldier looked awkward during the silence that followed. Aleks considered him for a moment, then nodded. ‘Alright,’ he said. ‘Let me get washed and dressed and I’ll be right there.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ the soldier said, looking relieved.

Aleks sighed, and shut the door.

Lev greeted Aleks as he entered Mission Control through the makeshift security point that had popped up overnight. He had concern on his face, even if he was trying his best to mask it. For the first time in a while, Bales was not at his side.

‘I’m so sorry to wake you up at this time in the morning,’ he said, handing Aleks a polystyrene cup filled with hot coffee. ‘But we have a small situation that we thought would be best for you to be in on.’

They walked around the circumference of the room before slotting in at the appropriate row. A relieved-looking junior communications officer stood up as they approached, the suddenly taut cable almost ripping the headset from his ears. Lev had barely dismissed him before he darted away, and Aleks watched him leave, apprehension stirring in his chest.

‘What’s his problem?’ he asked, still watching the man as he left the room.

‘He’s out of his depth, I suppose,’ Lev said, inviting Aleks to sit down, before doing so himself.

‘Where’s your NASA friend?’ Aleks said, nodding towards the empty third seat at his station. He took a sip of his coffee, allowing the lingering heat to flow to his extremities.

‘We, er… haven’t alerted him. It’s only a minor thing. Nothing worth disturbing him about,’ Lev said, looking guilty.

‘Not minor enough to let me catch up on my rest though,’ Aleks said. ‘You know I don’t sleep well, you know I’ve been up doing long shifts—’

‘As have we all,’ Lev interjected, ‘and I’m sorry, but we have some very powerful eyes watching over us, so we need to make every decision perfectly. We can only do that with the best personnel on the job.’

Aleks felt numb, cranky and exhausted. He had probably overreacted. Lev was just doing his job after all. He took another sip of coffee, placed the cup down on his desk and started again.

‘So what’s the deal with Bales? Why is he here?’

Lev pulled a face, one of frustration. ‘NASA pretty much funds this entire operation. With money comes control. They may let us think we’re running the show, but if they want something, they get it.’

Aleks snorted with disbelief. ‘And we let them?’

‘We don’t have a choice. If we say no, they could pull the plug. As long as they stay happy, and we preen and smile for their puppet, Bales, we’ll be okay.’

There was a visible annoyance forming in the creases of Lev’s brow at the mention of Bales, so Aleks decided to drop the topic altogether.

‘What’s going on here, then?’

‘Well, you know that solar flare that was predicted for the next month?’

‘Yeah. I saw the NASA STEREO report a few weeks back.’

‘Well, it’s come early. Only a small one at the moment — M Two class I think — but the reports suggest this is the first of many, and they’re going to get larger.’