J Mauldin - Final Solution

The tablet began to speak, a woman’s voice. “Enela, long range radar detects a heavy concentration of micro meteorites in our path. I estimate less than five minutes before we reach them.”

I pounded the window of the hyperbaric chamber. “Let me out. We need to get César back inside.” A rush of heat washed up over my spine and into my forehead. My right leg began to shake. Get me out of here. Get me out of here. The hyperbaric chamber began contracting, its edges drawing into the middle, squashing me like a spider on paper. I needed to get out.

Doc shook his head, and I wanted to knock it right off his shoulders. “Goddard, you have two hours left of treatment. Can’t do it. Besides, how you gonna get there in time? You can’t help him.” His calm only fanned the embers of my anger. Maybe he was the target and this was his plan. Incapacitate the Master Engineer and put his assistant in a position where he was likely to screw up and get killed.

“César!” I called into the tablet. “You have to get back inside, right now. That’s an order.”

“I can’t,” he replied, voice edgy. “Almost done here. We need the power up or we won’t get back on course. We have to make it past Mars on schedule or all is lost. The Axis will not get the chance to kill our friends. Let’s see, what tool do I need now? Ohhh, Toodles.”

“Look, you can come back inside, and you will come back inside. We can make up the thrust deficiency another way. Comm, how dense is the field?”

“Can’t tell,” she responded. “Too much interference.”

“Damn it!” I shouted, only to be heard in medical. Across the room a face appeared in the other monoplace chamber. It was Kelly from Valles Rojo. Where had he been during our decompression to be gifted this sickness along with me?

There had to be something I could do. Had to. Our ship was designed to take these sorts of poundings while drifting through the void, micro meteors and the like, but César’s EVA rig was not. One hit and he was lost, set adrift in a place between life and where we believed we all go—into the waiting room, purgatory, the cold well. One hit—and César was dead. But that’s not all. Something wasn’t right. César was too focused, too relaxed. It just wasn’t like him. He was a frog leg on a hot skillet, a flea with the promise of blood. His personality was jumpy and jittery, though right now he was calm. Too calm. Unless…

“César, are you okay?” I asked, forcing a duplicitous subtext into every syllable that I hoped no one else could read.

The tone hit him like a slap, making him hesitate for a moment. “I’m fine, señor. No problems.”

“Don’t play dumb. You know what I mean.”

He hesitated again, but went back to work.

“Get back inside, now,” I growled. “Retract your safety line.” There was no way he could finish in time.

“Listen to him, son,” the Captain cut in. “We’ll make do. We have other power.”

For an instant it appeared as if César was going to drop his tools and reel himself in, but he didn’t. He went back to his task, furiously moving as if by working harder he could beat the clock.

“It’s like we talked about, David. We all pick up certain habits.” He sniffed and shook his head, making the suit waggle. Moments dragged into minutes, each heartbeat an exploding supernova millions of light years away. One more bolt secured. One more piece of twisted poly alloy removed. “Sometimes you just gotta take a break, you know? Sand that edge off. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’ve almost… That’s it… If you’ve got ears, say cheers! I’ve got it!”

I sucked in a breath and looked at the clock. Three minutes had passed. Hot damn, that kid was fire. I never could’ve finished that fast.

César began to sing, “Hot dog, hot dog…”

The solar panels folded up like an oriental dancer’s fans, closing and drawing back towards the ship. César let go and pushed off, drifting to get out of the way. Cheers of congratulations went out over the conference channel. A grin split my face.

Our joy was cut short.

An object whizzed past César’s left leg, grazing the edge of his suit and tearing a rent that spewed gas.

“César!” I shouted, my fists pounding against the tube’s glass.

A second, smaller video feed appeared on the left side of the tablet, showing the inside of his mask and panicked face. “Señor David?” he asked, eyebrows turned down in confusion. “Why is it so cold? I can’t control my direction. I’m… I’m spinning.”

The safety line whipped as it reeled in. His path crossed with a cluster of zipping micro meteorites, and one by one they went through him like armor piercing slugs. Air hissed from the many openings. The line nearly snapped in half. He twisted, jets of gas buffeting the rig to and fro, until tension triumphed. César’s body was drawn up against the hull and pulled inside, limp and lifeless. His vitals flat lined.

I pounded against the glass again and again with balled fists, a hollow, deafening reply echoing back. “César! No! Damn it! No! Let me out! Let me the fuck out!” The medical staff vanished, rushing off to the Cargo Bay. I’d been careless when I went to fix the leak. I’d allowed my mask to get damaged. It should have been me out there, not him. The kid deserved more than this, more than being snuffed out like a spent cigarette beneath a dust caked heel. He deserved to live a long life, to go home with his lady and start a family, to exist in bliss without madness and uncertainty.

We all deserved that.

“He didn’t deserve this,” I growled.

“No, he didn’t,” Kelly hissed from the other hyperbaric chamber, his voice muffled by glass. He twisted his expression and pressed his face up against the window, drilling into me with fierce brown eyes like twin augers.

“What do you mean?”

“Sir, did you notice something off with César?” His long fingernail tapped against the glass. “I’ve never seen him so easy going. Just crawling into the air returns made him sweat like a pusher on trial.”

“What are you saying, private? Are you saying he was high?”

Kelly nodded. “I am.”

My blood began to boil. I already had my suspicions, and Enela had not denied it. “Who got him the junk? You know, don’t you?”

He nodded again.

“Who? Kelly. Tell me. Who!”

He let out a long sigh as if uttering the words pained him physically. “I think it was Jane Griffin.”

It was probably for the best that I was stuck inside a tube for the next few hours. If I’d been free, I might just have taken half the ship apart with my bare hands. That conniving little bitch. That was why César had taken up with her so easily. She was his hook up, his juice man, his dealer.

“How do I know you’re not lying?” I asked, trying to stay objective before my emotions became unbridled anger. I had no proof but his word, and he, for all I knew, could actually be the target.

“When you get out of here, go look under his bunk.” Kelly laid down, disappearing from view. “Get some rest, sir.”

But I was too angry to lay down. The next few hours were going to be hell.

Refusing to let the fires in me die, I seethed.

As soon as Doc set me free, after a few basic cognitive and balance tests, I went pounding off down the hall, straight for César’s bunk. I dug under his mattress and found a tiny bag of pills. Drawn on the outside of the clear plastic bag was a red heart beside the name, Janie, in bubbly female script. These were not his anxiety meds, those were green with a one on the side. If I were guessing, I’d say these were OxyContin or Vicodin. Where the hell did she get them?