Chapter Seven

 

“I’ve checked our fuel situation,” Lila said. “We don’t have enough for the round trip unless we cut our acceleration way back. If we do, it’s going to take a lot longer to reach Sirius.”

“Didn’t we get a boost in speed as pay back for expending extra fuel?” Hendricks asked.

“We did get a boost in speed, but the engine’s efficiency drops off above two Gs. We burned a lot of hydrogen and gained a tiny benefit in speed and distance traveled.”

“Can’t we get hydrogen from the aliens of Sirius?” Mona asked.

“We really don’t know how advanced they are with the exception of their medical expertise,” Lila said.

“Do we have the gear on board to process some source of hydrogen?” Cramer asked, fermenting an idea in his head.

“Yes, hydrogen scoops were mounted on the outside of the ninth and tenth spheres, but the designers scraped that idea, and they were never finished. There’s not near enough free hydrogen floating in space to help,” she answered.

“I was thinking of the comets in the Oort Cloud. If they have any frozen water, ammonia, methane, or hydrocarbon ices perhaps they could be captured by the scoops and converted into hydrogen.” Cramer formed his hands into a cup, shoving his crude scoop forward.

“That’s a possibility. I’ll pull up the specs to see what we need to extract hydrogen from water, methane, or whatever we might encounter in the comet’s frozen gases. I’ll compute what our speed will be if we coast to the Oort Cloud from here.”

They discussed the condition of the engines, startup protocol, and possible future problems followed before the meeting broke up. Cramer headed for the exercise and recreation sphere, hoping to improve his stamina, depressed about his stressful ordeal because of his reduced lung capacity that made him inadequate and unable to hold up his end of the tasks on this voyage. Despite his success in freeing the baffles, he marked it up to luck rather than skill. He hated the idea of a longer voyage.

Working hard on the treadmill, and lathered in sweat, he jerked his head up when Mona came in. She nodded, then went to the elliptical machine. Dressed in sweatpants and a tank top, Cramer couldn’t keep from staring at her panty lines, clearly visible beneath her sweats as she walked away from him. He shook his head, chastised himself for dwelling on that, looked away, and increased his treadmill speed to a six-and-a-half-minute mile. Soon he started tripping near the rear of the treadmill’s moving belt. Determined, he struggled to remain on the belt, his chest burning, his breathing labored. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. Before he could turn the treadmill down, he fell off the back and collapsed in an ugly heap.

“Joe, for cryin’ out loud. You’re trying to set a pace that’s hard for somebody half your age.” Mona rushed to his side and helped him to a sitting position.

“I have to get into better condition if I’m to pull my weight around here.” He labored to even talk.

He tried stopping his emotions from going into overdrive. Sweat stung his eyes; he blinked and gritted his teeth at his inadequacy, hoping she would read as physical stress rather than an outburst of emotion. One look at her face confirmed she could read his mental agony.

“I don’t want the crew treating me any different from some young, muscular guy who is the picture of health and has no family,” he said, his voice threatening to crack.

“Lila is treating you according to your situation.”

“Yes, I know, and the frightening thing is that I like it. She has this uncanny way of knowing exactly what to say and what to do to ease my burden.”

“Maybe she’s interested in you romantically.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. As our leader she wouldn’t dare let anything like that happen. Say, I thought you said she has no emotions.”

“Toward Hendricks and me, that’s true. She feels no need to act differently toward us.”

“Mona. I hope you don’t take this wrong, but I’ve noticed a change in you since we first met. On Iapetus you were a fiery lady, outspoken, assertive, but lately you seem reserved, more…well, an introvert. I guess it’s my turn to ask if something is bothering you.”

“It’s my turn to answer like you did to me on Iapetus. It’s none of your concern.”

“Well, I won’t pursue the same conversation by saying I’m concerned whatever is bothering you will affect your performance, because I know better. No matter what may be on your mind, you’ll carry out the tasks at hand with your usual efficiency.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She assisted him to his feet.

“I’m not trying to be nosey. I…well, I care about you and hope nothing is wrong.”

“Look at the time. Lila wants to see us in forty-five minutes.” She ignored his personal remarks.

“We’d better get cleaned up,” he said. He walked slowly back to his room and when he reached for his door Mona spoke.

“Joe.” She looked at him, paused, and took a deep breath.

“Yes.”

“I’ll see you at the meeting.”

He wondered what she really wanted to say. Maybe he’d find out. She took the few steps to her door and he again mentally slapped himself for looking at her attractive figure. He couldn’t deny the physical attraction to both her and Lila. Perhaps he’d better spike his orange juice with saltpeter.

During the meeting Lila said it would be best if they coasted all the way to the Oort Cloud instead of starting the engines. She computed it would take eight months, give or take a month. The effects of gravity, nearby objects—even the solar wind—would throw off the calculations. She put the three of them into cryo sleep for that duration, then brought them all out as the Oort Cloud drew near. They ran spectral analysis on those objects directly in their path. Mona and Hendricks helped Cramer work on the processing equipment to retrieve hydrogen from the species they detected in the comet shells. Water, hydroxyl, and methane made up the main ingredients of the dormant comets.

Quest couldn’t be turned on the proverbial dime. To change directions at all, they needed to fire the small side jet engines. Little used so far, they fired and steered the ship with no problems. Lila manually turned toward a thick cluster of comets, good candidates for the hydrogen scoops. The ship vibrated a bit, and a crunching noise resounded through the hull as the “dirty snowballs” headed into the scoops like an ancient shepherd herding his sheep into a narrow mountain pass.

As the processors started working on the frozen chunks, Lila reported a small increase in the storage tanks’ hydrogen. Hendricks and Mona, stationed in the main engine sphere, observed the processors and monitored the hydrogen storage tanks. Lila kept watch on these operations in the command sphere through the myriad of sensors.

Cramer entertained himself by watching the approaching dormant ice balls, all sizes, frozen here for countless centuries. Some truly looked like dirty snowballs while others offered an off white, uniform surface. The external lights of the ship showed jagged, porous shells with a carbonaceous texture mingled with the ice. As they approached, the comets started spewing gases from the heat of the ship melting the ice. The small comets did not affect the heavy ship and its forward motion. Gravity monitors didn’t show readings much above the noisy baseline as each comet made its approach.

He settled at his station and turned the monitor to extreme range. In this dark region of space, he used the gravity detector mode to show the approaching bodies far and near. That’s when he spotted it. “Lila, there’s a large body ahead, my detectors show it at extreme range.”

“Any data on its size or composition?”

“I’m training the telescope on it now, but the albedo is very low.” He squinted at the telescope’s image. Data began appearing on his monitor, and readouts came to life as the telescope’s image sharpened.

“This object could pass for a planetoid. Gravity registers well above the noise, it’s nearly a perfect sphere, with scattered ice patches, a smooth shell and very few craters,” he called out to Lila.

“I’m detecting it. At our speed it’s going to be hard to avoid it. Kicking in full power to directional engines now.”

“Hendricks, Mona. Brace for possible impact in two minutes,” Cramer said via the ship’s PA system.

He reduced magnification after the planetoid filled his monitor screen. He sensed the ship’s slow turn. Firing the small breaking rockets and turning the ship to fire the main engines would take too long.

“Collision in thirty seconds,” he announced.

He hoped the crash webbing worked better than the feeder valves and baffle plates and worried that Hendricks and Mona might not have time to reach their rooms where crash webbing and secure bunks would protect them.

Cramer looked up at the transparent dome in front of them. Despite what he’d read about the plastisteel material being as strong as the hull’s metal, he would have felt safer with an opaque metal bulkhead in front of them.

He spotted it. The ship turned just enough that the huge sphere presented its horizon, its surface smeared by striations much like the scars across some of the solar system’s asteroids and moons. Black deposits spotted the icy landscape. Central peaks jutted from the middle of the few visible craters. The surface flew by them in a blur. The sensation of speed reached a high as the ship came closer to the planetoid’s surface. The first impact, a glancing blow with one of the central peaks of a crater, didn’t activate their webbing but the next impact did. The crater peak fragments flying in all directions were reduced to small chunks by the ship. He pitched forward. The crash webbing appeared in front of him. Then his world turned to stars of pain and blackness.

As he regained consciousness, he saw Lila lying on the floor face down, her crash webbing a broken mess around and under her. His webbing did a partial job before retracting into its cocoon. His shoulder ached, and rope burns from the webbing streaked across his arms.

He unstrapped himself and stumbled to Lila’s side. With care, he turned her over. He saw no bruises or bleeding. Her wide-open eyes seemed to stare at him without life. He felt for a pulse but couldn’t find one. Hoping to feel a puff of air from breathing, he put his cheek against her nose when he couldn’t see the rise and fall of her chest. Her skin was room temperature rather than warm. The frightening notion entered his head that she might be dead. He started CPR on her, but she didn’t respond.

“No, Lila!” He sobbed.

He touched her dark hair, then closed her eyes with his fingers. He remained kneeling beside her, hardly noticing his own aches and pains. He glanced out the forward dome and couldn’t see the planetoid, but the ship tumbled out of control, bashing small comets right and left in its erratic path through the Oort Cloud. He looked again at Lila and thought he couldn’t go on without her loving guidance and support. Removing his flight jacket, he placed it over the upper half of her body, covering her face.

Dizzy from the spinning attitude of the ship, he took a minute. The compensation field still worked, but the view out the dome unsettled him. He hurried through each sphere, fearing for Hendricks’s and Mona’s lives when he got to the engine area. Cramer called to them but received no response.

Relief swept over him as he journeyed back through each consecutive sphere. The command sphere monitors indicated no structural damage. He checked Hendricks’s and Mona’s rooms and found only empty bunks. Cramer expected the worst when he entered the tenth sphere which housed the drive engines.

He paced along the central walkway, scanning from side to side around the engines and the hydrogen storage tanks. Out the corner of his eye, he saw a blood trail. It led to an outstretched arm that lay beyond a power console near one wall. He rushed over to find Hendricks stretched on the floor, lying on his side with abrasions, cuts, and bruises all over his face and arms, one of his legs cocked at an odd angle. Blood oozed from his mouth, and his eyes fluttered open.

“Joe.” He uttered and moved his hand toward Cramer’s.

“Don’t try to talk. Lie still. You’ll be okay.” Cramer knew he told a horrible lie.

Hendricks gave a quick shake of his head. “I must tell you… I… I’m sorry you were taken from your daughter. It…wasn’t right.”

“Shh, try to relax.” Hendricks clutched Cramer’s hand. His expression of pain saddened Cramer. He didn’t have long to live.

“Will you forgive me?”

“Yes,” Cramer said as tears welled in his eyes.

“Hearing that makes me believe you were the right man for this trip. Thank you.” Hendricks’s hand closed in a death grip on Cramer’s as Hendricks shut his eyes, and his head moved to one side for the last time.

Now Cramer feared for Mona and called her name. No answer. He went over every inch of the engine sphere, or so he believed. He returned to the front of the ship, searching carefully. The ninth sphere contained the deep sleep equipment. He stopped to look at Witherspoon. His bio signs remained stable. The chambers contained rigid cages like restrainers that protected the sleeping person from injury in case of a deep space collision.

Cramer started to leave the ninth sphere when something told him to check the other chambers. He strode to Mona’s chamber. As he approached, he noted a light frost on her chamber bubble. He wiped the frost away. She lay inside, the rigid cage in place over her near nude body. The early warning allowed her to make it to her chamber. Activating the sleep process always initiated the cage first.

Relieved, he waited for the sleep process to finish before he started the reviving sequence. He then moved around the corner so the modesty screen separated him from Mona.

He believed he heard the sound of the opening mechanism. He waited a minute then called out her name. No response. Concerned, he came around the corner. She stood beside the sleep chamber clothed only in her bra and panties. She stared straight at him.

Embarrassed, he looked away and backed around the screen. “Mona, I’m sorry. I was worried when you didn’t respond.”

“Never mind. How are Lila and Hendricks?”

“Both dead,” he said after a pause. He heard no response from beyond the screen.

She stepped around, dressed in flight coveralls. “Are you sure?”

“Multiple injuries contributed to Hendricks’s death. I reached him in time for him to say a few words before he died. I couldn’t get a pulse or detect breathing from Lila despite no marks on her body.”

“Don’t count me out yet, Joe.” A voice came from behind him. Lila stood there, her hands on her hips, her lips in a smile.

“Lila! You’re alive!” He darted to her and put his arms around her then caught himself, blushing, pulling back. With a small voice, he said, “Sorry.”

“That’s okay. You are right about Hendricks. He appears to have died of multiple internal injuries.” She handed him the flight jacket he draped over her face. Cramer wondered how he could have missed her life signs.

“Quick, we must get to the command sphere and try to stop the ship from tumbling,” Lila continued.

“What about Hendricks?”

“As soon as the ship is under control we will give him a decent burial,” she said, already leaving for the front sphere.

It took the three of them several hours of firing the guiding jets, analyzing the ship’s attitude data, and striving to right the ship on the proper heading for Sirius, before things calmed down. The Oort Cloud receded behind them now, and the system monitoring their hydrogen reserves told them that, despite the harvesting of the comets, they still lacked enough fuel. Their fuel would get them to Sirius but with very little for the return trip.

Witherspoon planned everything. He equipped Quest with deep space burial modules in case someone lost their life on the journey. Hendricks’s lifeless and broken form lay at rest in one of the modules. After pressurizing it with pure nitrogen and sealing it, Lila checked Hendricks’s personnel file and found only distant cousins in his family. She asked Cramer to say some final words.

“I never got to know Hendricks. He was devoted to serving Mr. Witherspoon to the best of his ability. With his dying breath he told me he was sorry for my abduction and confessed it was wrong. He asked for my forgiveness, and I gave it to him. He seemed to be satisfied with my final words to him when he died. I perceived he was devoted to Mr. Witherspoon in serving him without hesitation despite his reservations. That is my assessment of him, and I’m only sorry I didn’t express that to him sooner. We should take that as a reminder that we express our feelings to those around us before it’s too late.” He paused then looked at Lila, who smiled. Mona remained expressionless except for some feelings hidden in her eyes.

He then shut his own eyes and bowed his head. “Dear Lord, his spirit is in your hands. We pray he will be joined with what family has gone before him. May his past actions in this life which showed his dedication and unselfishness serve as our example. In the name of Christ, our Savior, we pray. Amen,” he said softly, then hit the button which jettisoned Hendricks’s burial module into space.

“Well said.” Lila laid her hand on his shoulder.

Deep space laid ahead, the Oort Cloud now fading into a memory behind them. With the solar system a light year behind they recalculated their acceleration and speed requirements for the remainder of the journey. That done, the mighty star drive engines came to life once more. Cramer was relieved at a ship running smoothly again but saddened at the loss of Hendricks.

Lila brought him out of his contemplation. “Joe, Mona, I want the two of you to go into cryo sleep and remain there until we reach the deceleration point.”

“How long will that be? I can’t figure this messed up time out. You should have brought somebody along who can understand ship’s time, Earth time, length contraction, time dilation,” he said, feeling inadequate beside Lila and Mona for that matter.

“Not to worry, Joe. It’s all in computer programs. Ship’s time to deceleration point is one and eight tenths years,” Lila answered.

“How long is that in Earth time?” Mona asked.

He looked at her, puzzled at her question.

“I thought you might want to know, Joe,” she continued.

“In Earth time, that is four and five tenths years,” Lila said.

Cindy would be twenty-five when they reached the halfway point to Sirius. How old would she be if he made it back? He did the rough mental math and came up with age forty. The benefit of time dilation he reaped would allow her to gain on him in age. He fought to choke back tears and excused himself, asking for a few hours at least before going into cryo sleep.

He tried to be stalwart when he made it to his room. He would age something like seven years, and Cindy would age twenty years. No, back up. With his time in cryo sleep he would age only a few years. She would pass as his younger sister upon his return. He buried his head in his hands and knelt.

“Joe,” Mona said, stepping a bit around the door he’d forgotten to close.

“Please, I want to be alone.”

“I’m sorry. I should never have made you aware of the elapsed time. It was very callous of me.”

He tried to raise his hand from his kneeling position on the floor to indicate to her not to worry. As he tried that gesture Lila pushed by Mona and crouched beside him, putting her arm around his shoulders.

“I’ll be all right,” he said. “I know you need my help running this huge ship, and I’ll pull my load when I’m not in cryo sleep.”