SL Huang - Up and Coming - Stories by the 2016 Campbell-Eligible Authors

A deafening boom stunned her, sending shock waves through her body. She had to regulate her breath before she had the courage to open her eyes.

She was on the ceiling. She turned her head right and saw the four-hundred-kilogram lab desk smashed right next to her. It had missed her by mere centimeters.

Tatiana looked around. The laboratory was upside down. Something had flipped the whole ship on its back. She saw glimpses of the fire suppressing system spraying bursts of foam toward one of the service modules. Thick black smoke and traces of steam floated into the lab from the corridor which led to the habitat. A smell of ozone and burnt plastic filled her lungs. She wanted to puke.

Beneath her fingers, Tatiana felt wetness and the texture of glass shards. She was feeling dizzy and brought a hand to her forehead only to remove it seconds later. It stung. The hand was covered with sticky dark liquid—her blood. She moved her other hand across her belly, and released a deep breath when she found no injury there. Her babies were still safe, she hoped.

“Danger!” the A.I announced. “Pressure is dropping.”

“What the…?” Tatiana tried to lift herself, grabbing one of the legs of the upside-down desk.

“The hull has ruptured,” the A.I. replied stoically. “We are venting air.”

She swallowed.

“Honey, are you okay?” Hayek’s voice came through the ship’s radio. “Answer me! Tatiana!”

The radio, which had been on the desk, was lying on the ceiling not far from her. It was sheer luck that it wasn’t crushed underneath the desk. She crawled over broken tubes, spreading dust and liquids before she reached the radio. “I can hear you,” she said into the mic.

“Thank God you’re alive.” Her husband’s voice managed to calm her down. She knew that panic wouldn’t help her or the babies. She must behave logically.

“A level two cold geyser erupted right beneath the ship,” Hayek said. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Warning,” the computer announced. “Current pressure is 0.465 atmosphere and dropping.”

Tatiana noticed that she was breathing heavily.

“You must enter the escape pod immediately.” The computer insisted.

“But what about Hayek?” Tatiana said in a choked voice.

“Current pressure is 0.379 atmosphere and dropping. If you don’t enter the escape pod within the next twenty-seven seconds, you will die,” it said flatly.

“Hayek!” she cried into the mic.

Once more the world around her began to spin. She saw black circles forming in her vision. She felt as if her lungs were about to explode, forcing her to open her mouth and release what little air they still held. The babies!

“Goddammit, woman.” A dim voice said out of nowhere. “Get into the damn pod. You hear me?” Tatiana assumed it was Hayek’s voice, coming from the radio. Perhaps the voice came from inside her head or the computer. She couldn’t tell. She fell, holding her throat. Her heart was pounding, desperately trying to pump oxygen to her brain. Her peripheral vision became narrower and narrower. The black circles grew, and so did the pain. No air was left inside her lungs.

More incomprehensible dim voices rang in her ears. Thinking of her unborn twins, she crawled toward the escape pod. She pushed herself. Pushed. She saw a light. A bright tunnel. Then she lost consciousness.

Tatiana inhaled. Fresh oxygen-rich air filled her lungs, the sweetest gulp of air she had ever taken in her life. She craved more.

She coughed, opened her eyes, and recognized the place she was in—the escape pod. Lighting came from the floor, and the control panel attached to the wall was upside-down, which meant the Herschel was still on its back. She caught her breath, tasted bitterness in her mouth and spat. Dry blood came out. She decided to remain on the ceiling/floor and rest for a couple of minutes. Holding her belly, she prayed the twins would kick or show any other sign of life. She felt nothing.

“Good news,” the computer’s voice broke the silence. “I managed to decipher the RNA code from the two Enceladus samples. It’s an alien language. There is an imbedded message within the code.”

“Where is Hayek?” Tatiana demanded.

“Hayek is in the command module,” replied the computer. “I found an additional fact about the Enceladus organism. The two RNA samples are identical. In all likelihood, Enceladus has a single type of organism that is spread all across the liquid ocean underneath the ice-cap. It survives on energy from underground lava.”

“What is Hayek doing in the command module? Is the leak fixed? Is there air in the habitat module?” Tatiana’s lungs stung and she still felt dizzy. She knew she had to get up. She raised herself to her feet and stumbled toward the upside-down panel.

“Hayek?” She clicked on the intercom. At first she heard nothing but static.

“Are you okay?” Eventually a reply came. “Tatiana?”

Before she had a chance to respond, an upside-down figure, wearing a fully sealed EVA suit, appeared on monitor. Then the figure disappeared, and a few seconds later she heard a knock on the door.

Through the six-inch-round window in the middle of the escape pod’s door, she saw Hayek’s face. He still wore his helmet, but she could clearly see the tears in his eyes.

“Tatiana. I thought I’d lost you.” His glove-covered hand moved across the small window.

Tatiana brought her lips to the window, and she kissed the cold glass. “I love you.”

“Are the twins okay?”

“I don’t know,” she said, looking at her swollen belly. “How bad is it?”

A hint of a smile appeared on Hayek’s face. “Not so bad. I spoke with the mission director on Titan. She dispatched a rescue ship. It will be here in thirty hours.”

“What about air? Do we have enough air for thirty hours?”

Hayek stared at her with glazing eyes. “The escape pod has enough air for thirty four hours.”

“Then we’re safe. Aren’t we?”

“Thirty four hours for one person.” He shrugged. “And besides, I’m not inside the pod. My suit’s air-tanks have enough air for only four hours.”

There was a brief moment of silence as Tatiana contemplated what Hayek had just told her, running the math. Could they slow down their metabolism and extend the pod’s life support duration? Could the rescue ship fly faster? They had some spare time to explore options.

“Computer,” Tatiana said firmly, “open this door.”

“Belay that order.” Hayek’s voice echoed through the speakers. “Tatiana, what do you think you’re doing? We lost hull pressure, and we lost our external oxygen tanks. If you open the door the pressure inside the pod will drop to zero, and you and the twins will die.”

“Not if we’re quick.” Tatiana felt tears forming in her eyes.

“I love you, but…” he pointed at the pressure gauge.

“I love you too.” She fell to the floor sobbing.

After a minute of feeling helpless, she wiped her tears. “Computer, how long can the door stay open before the pressure inside the pod drops to zero?”

“Fully open—fourteen seconds.”

“And how long can the human body survive in vacuum?”

“About one minute.”

“Don’t even think about it!” Hayek cried. “Your blood will boil and your eyes will pop out of their sockets. And even after restoring pressure, your body will sustain permanent damage.”

Tatiana looked at her belly. She could accept damaging herself to save her husband, but would she risk damaging her unborn twins? She stared at Hayek. “If we open the door, it shouldn’t take more than thirty seconds for you to come in and restore the pressure.”