Read 90_Minutes_to_Live Online

Authors: JournalStone

90_Minutes_to_Live (26 page)

"Ah, Commander Daniels. I was expecting one last appeal."

"Roque my friend, I would not dishonor you so. Unless you are changing your mind?" Peering up at his face, she could tell the answer remained no. "Then we have business."

"Ah, you have found something useful for me to do instead of waiting in dread for Der Tag, eh?"

"Our dear leader, Subraman Venderchanergee has ordered us to stay onboard. Therefore, we are leaving. I need you to delay any inquiries into my whereabouts until retrofire. Then they will have to help us land."

"I think not."

"You won’t help me?" Lisa's eyes began to harden.

"Of course I will help you. I just don’t think Subraman will help you. He made the announcement in the Control Room, yes?"

"Yeeees…." she admitted.

"Then he cannot back down. It would be an admission he was wrong, and that cannot be borne."

"Wait, let me get this straight. He’d rather see us all die than admit he was wrong?"

"Essentially. Remember, he was born to a high caste. They are taught they are born to rule. Failures are always due to subordinates. That’s the theory at least.

"But there's another reason. This station represents the main cash cow for UNSOC. Without it, Subraman’s division falls into the red and he’ll be removed. Therefore, he must keep this station a going concern."

"You and I both know the Chaffee is doomed."

"Subraman cannot allow himself to believe that. I’ll bet he said you were faking the data, true?"

"Yes! How did you know?"

"It fits, it fits. In a nutshell, Subraman must keep you up here. If he orders you to stay but everyone dies, he would claim Earth-bound radars did not match what ours did and he was being cautious of a unique event and so forth. He’ll survive.

"If you disobey him and the sleds fail, it’s your fault. Again, he survives."

"It’s hopeless then. He survives no matter what."

"Not so. There’s more. If he authorizes you to leave and the station survives, he is incompetent and you are a coward. If he authorizes you to leave and you burn up in the sleds, then again, he is incompetent and you are a fool. So he won’t authorize you to leave under any circumstances.

"But the best thing for us is if he orders you to stay, you disobey him
and
you survive. Then you are a hero and he is a heartless bureaucrat thinking only of himself. Then he is finished." Roque leaned closer. "You must survive. Not only to get rid of Subraman. For Shep and Susan and Eddie. And for the rest of this crew."

Lisa cupped his chin with her graceful hand. "Roque, dear friend. I have every intention of surviving."

"Then you must do this Lisa." Roque turned away to a cabinet, withdrew two small flasks. "We must christen the sleds."

"Oh Roque, really?!" Lisa exclaimed, laughing.

"Absolutely. You are landing in the ocean, correct?"

"That’s still the plan."

"No ship can sail the ocean unless it’s christened. Bad luck! Would you allow your friend one last request?"

"Certainly!"

"One sled should be named Ted Reinhart, after the crewman who died, starting this whole chain of events. The second should be named after Jim Pruett."

"Who's Jim Pruett?" Lisa asked, puzzled.

"I love old movies, especially ones from the dawn of the Space Age. One movie was called 'Marooned.' Jim Pruett was one of the astronauts. I always liked his character."

Lisa was dubious. "Anything I should know about this character? Was he some kind of womanizer?"

"No no, my dear, he was a clean-cut, all-American guy. Please?"

Lisa agreed.

"Then let me give you one final hug and get down to the sled bays. I will announce from here."

Lisa floated into the first sled bay and got the up-check that all personnel were safely aboard. Soon after, the speakers sounded.

"Attention, all personnel. This is Roque Zacarías. I am not leaving. Commander Daniels does not agree with me but has granted my request to remain. However, you cannot leave until the sleds have been christened. Commander, if you will do the honors?"

Lisa moved to the hatch of the forward sled, grabbed a handhold, murmured to a waiting space hand and waited.

"Thirty years ago Ted Reinhart, one of our own, had a medical emergency we could not treat in orbit. There was no ship in dock and no way to send him home. At the end of the week, Ted was dead. As a result of his sacrifice, a long line of determined commanders ensured we have these lifeboats in our hour of need. This first sled therefore, is christened the ERV Ted Reinhart. Commander?"

With a strong swing, Lisa broke the first flask over the entry hatch. The space hand she had spoken with had a towel to catch the flying shards. Lisa moved through the corridor to the second sled.

"This next name will mean nothing to almost all of you. He was a character in a decades old movie about spaceflight. As a point of personal privilege, I christen this vehicle the ERV Jim Pruett. Commander?"

Again, the swing, the breakage, the glittering spheres of…what was it?

"Roque?"

"Yes, Commander?"

"What was in these flasks?"

"A gentle Muscat from old España. Champagne is traditional but alcohol is required."

"Thank you Roque."

"You should get going."

"Goodbye Roque. Goodbye Chaffee. You both have served us well."

"Goodbye, Commander."

Lisa closed the hatch on the
Pruett
, watched as it was dogged down. She then hurried back to the
Reinhart
. With a final look around the corridor, she ducked inside and closed the hatch firmly. Minutes later the ERVs undocked from the
Chaffee
. Short bursts of thrusters pushed the craft into the desired attitude for reentry. Lisa watched her command recede among the stars. She could not stop hurting for the gallant man she was forced to leave behind.

 

*   *   *

 

UNSOC Space Station Roger Chaffee, June 17 2082, 1430 EDT

 

Roque watched the ERVs recede with a sigh of regret. Deep in his heart, he knew he was doing the right thing. As a passenger in the ERV, he would be a liability. Instead, he was an asset in the
Chaffee
. One last act for the world and then he could relax with his Muscat, his music and his memories.

A loud bang interrupted his musings. A sand-sized grain of the Moon had impacted the
Chaffee
. It was just the harbinger of what was to come. Roque knew he was going to die quite soon in a hail of gravel travelling at thousands of kilometers per hour. Best to think of something else.

He had come to know Subraman intimately over the years and was confident in the analysis he had given Lisa Daniels. Any minute now, he wagered, Subraman would be calling to denounce Lisa as a coward.

Like magic, the radio came alive. Gayatri Vedya, the B Shift chief controller was calling on behalf of Subraman, asking for Commander Daniels. Roque rapidly made the cross-connect so the ERVs would be able to hear this transmission. A few deep breaths and he mentally took the stage for the last time.

Subraman’s oily voice oozed over the speaker. "Ah, Mr. Zacarías, where is Commander Daniels? I wish to speak with her."

"Director Venderchanergee, how are you? It’s been so long since you were up here. Fifteen years if I remember correctly. Her locator shows her in her room but she is not answering the Com. She may be taking a shower."

"Or maybe just crying in her bunk. Could you go and knock on her door for me, just to make sure? I have some questions for her."

"Well Director, I have to confess, when I heard it was you, I abandoned the board for a minute and went down myself. I definitely heard water running, so, yes; she’s likely in the shower."

"Is that why it took you so long to answer?"

"Oh, I must apologize for that, sir. Running this board is not something I do all that often."

"Wait, why are you on the board at all? Where is—what's her name—that blonde woman who's so angry all the time?"

"Celine Greenfield?"

"Yes, that's the one. Isn’t manning the board her job? I swear...the Chaffee seems like it’s falling apart up there."

Roque winced slightly and muttered "Not yet, but soon."

"What’s that? Your transmission was garbled."

"Her people were drafted into helping out at the aid station. We had some radiation cases here."

"Yes. I suspect that will be the new excuse for malingering. Radiation."

"Well sir, you know how it is. Say, did I ever tell you what happened up here during your last visit?"

They went on like that for twenty minutes. Roque would carefully deflect all of Subraman’s questions with a glib response. In return, he told stories, remembered common acquaintances and generally chatted up Subraman.

Fred eventually realized Roque was stalling for time. He called Gus who was coordinating the ground and ocean response to the incoming ERVs.

"Gus, listen close, I don’t have much time. Roque’s giving Subby the old runaround. It is a thing of beauty. Lisa Daniels was able to send us an encrypted message. She kicked the sleds free of the station ten minutes ago and should be lighting up the retrorockets right about now. Entry Interface is in another forty minutes and landing is slated for 1640, somewhere on the East Coast, preferably New York/New Jersey. Get everyone on board, buddy. Coast Guard especially. Subby’s got me stuck in here. Copy?"

"Got it, Fred. Roque’s not coming back?"

"Doesn’t look like it. I don’t blame him either. There’s nothing for him here."

"Still, seems a damned shame."

"We'll hoist a glass of port to him later. Gotta run. Out." Fred slapped his phone off and reentered the Control Center. Subraman glanced his way, his concentration still on Roque.

"And that's how I came into possession of an original mission patch from Apollo One." Roque finished the absolutely true story with a grand flourish.

"An amazing story, Mr. Zacarías. Commander Daniels must be out of the shower by now, please page her."

Roque was seen squinting at the screen, trying to see where the paging function was. "Nope, that’s not it. No, I don’t want to call the Collins…” He poked around for a few moments and then looked up, exasperated, to Subraman.

"Sir, I can’t figure this darned thing out. It will be faster if I float down to her quarters myself. Be right back.” He zipped out of frame before Subraman could countermand him.

Roque left the volume turned up and bobbed just out of the field of view of the camera. He was hoping he could stall Subby until Lisa finished the retrorocket burn.

"UNSOC Control, this is Commander Daniels on the ERV Reinhart, requesting terminal guidance control." Roque felt like cheering. He returned to his position in front of the camera. Now the ruse was over, he wanted to watch how it played out.

Subraman glared at the camera. For a moment, Roque felt the look was directed at him. He almost chuckled when he realized that Subby was glaring at Lisa, who was on an audio-only circuit.

Speaking slowly, as to a petulant child, Subraman said, "Commander Daniels, this is Director Venderchanergee. What is the meaning of this?"

"The Emergency Reentry Vehicles Tom Reinhart and Jim Pruett have completed retrofire and are inbound to Earth." A loud bang sounded over the speakers. "That was another piece of the moon hitting our shields, Director, in case you didn't know. Entry Interface will be in forty minutes. All of the crew are aboard, except for Roque Zacarías, who requested to stay on the Chaffee. We cannot go back. All we ask for now is terminal guidance to Earth."

"NO!" shouted Subraman in a rare loss of control. "You will proceed back to the Chaffee and return to your station."

"I told you before," came the voice, crackling now and then with static, "We don’t have the delta V to make it back to the Chaffee, even if we wanted to. We do need your assistance once we break out of communications blackout."

Aboard the
Chaffee
, Roque distantly heard impacts as well but they were less important than the debris smashing into the shields on the ERVs. He watched the scene inside the Control Room with concern.

"Well, you won’t get it," Subraman stated, striding over to the rear wall, behind the CAPCOMs. "You insisted on disobeying the direct orders of your superiors. Since you refused my orders, you can’t ask for our help. I refuse to abet your criminal actions and will not allow my staff to help you, either." Flipping up the covers over the large red Emergency Power Off buttons, found in every data center, Subraman paused.

"Will you return to the Chaffee?" Subraman asked.

"We cannot," came the calm, but determined reply.

"Then you are on your own." Subraman rammed the EPO buttons home.

Roque stared with horror at the blank screen as the radio emitted continuous static.

 

*   *   *

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