90_Minutes_to_Live (25 page)

And Lisa Daniels found herself with a problem.

"But Roque, you must leave!"

"Ah, my dear Commander, you know that I cannot.” his wan smile flashed briefly. "I would be completely helpless on Earth."

"You know you will be killed if you stay," Lisa said.

"My dear," Roque said, "That should have happened eighteen years ago. I figure I just had a little reprieve from the Grim Reaper all these years."

"I could order you sedated and carried aboard you know," she said. "Don’t think I won't."

"Ah, Lisa, Lisa. I remember you as a young lieutenant fresh out of UNSOC Ground School. Struggling along here, learning how to swim in the air. But I knew then, as I know now, you were destined to lead people. You do care. That is why I'm not strapped into a sled right now, snoring away. You are allowing me my dignity."

"And I will continue to allow it until it endangers the mission," said Lisa roughly.

"Let me tell you a very brief story. One time, long ago, I was an exchange student to the United States. It was so different from my beloved España. So busy, so alive! My foster family took me to the Outer Banks of North Carolina on their annual vacation. Two weeks of the beach, girls and, even sometimes drinking. I was seventeen and not sure what I wanted to do in life. Then I met Lynn.

"She was eighteen and beautiful, full of life. The second night I was there I went for a walk on the beach near sunset. It was strange. In España, the beaches face west into the setting sun. On the Outer Banks, they face east. The land is so flat you can sometimes see the setting sun through the maze of vacation homes.

"I was walking on the beach towards one of the shafts of sunlight when I saw her. Her hair was a rich auburn, shining like a halo in the reddening light. She had put on a light shirt against the cooling temperatures but she was lithe and slender and to a young boy who was almost a man, irresistibly attractive.

"I somehow got up the nerve to talk to her. Her family had just arrived for their two weeks at the beach and she had also wanted to see the sunset. It was beautiful. I daresay, more beautiful than any I have seen since, yes, even up here."

Roque removed the lid on his smudged white box and retrieved a sealed tube of what looked like green water and sand. Lisa tried not to show her impatience but something must have leaked through her control, and Roque chuckled.

"There is not much left to tell. She was my first love. The two weeks passed both excruciatingly slow and far too fast. She was fascinated by the stars and she spoke often of joining the Astronaut Corps and going to space. I had never considered that and promised I would join too.

"We were each other’s first lovers and it was evermore sweet for that. We kept in touch of course. We were trying to figure out how she could visit me in España. Then, for some reason, about eight months later, she stopped writing. My friends all tried to console me, saying I should find another girl, for she must have found another man.

"It was a month later when I received a letter in the mail. Her parents had written to me, enclosing an article from the newspaper. She had been driving home from her job when a drunk driver twice her age plowed into her car, killing her instantly.

"Losing Lynn was the defining moment of my life. I have never had another lover and frankly, never really wanted one. I know others would laugh at me for this, tell me I am wasting my life. But she and I were joined in a way I cannot describe to you, even if I wanted to. I joined UNSOC because of her. I have never regretted it, not even when I lost the use of my legs.

"All I have left of her is this little bottle of seawater from that long ago summer and a lock of her hair." Roque removed the plastic bag with the lock and set it on the table. He straightened up and gripped the worktable firmly.

"I would be totally useless on Earth, Commander Daniels. I have not exercised very much over the years. Even if I survived the journey down, my heart would give out shortly thereafter. Even if I didn’t have a heart attack, I would be confined to a flotation bed for weeks as I recovered strength. The work I have done and would have continued to do is all up here. Down there, I would be just another cripple—old, unemployable and half-dead. No, the price of survival is too high. This way it’s a fitting end for me. I know Lynn would approve."

Lisa frowned, started to retort, but he overrode her objections.

"You can sedate me if you want but I will curse you forever. But if you let me stay, I will tell those fat-bottoms in UNSOC that I refused your orders. I will protect you Lisa, for I still have friends there. But I will ask a favor of you, in return,” he returned the tube of water to its foam recess in the white box.

"What is this favor, Roque?"

"Take this," he said, passing her the white box. "Go to the Dare County Cemetery in North Carolina. The directions are in the box. Tuck that tube in her grave and tell her I never forgot her. Would you do that for me?" Roque gripped her hand hard. "What little I have of Lynn," he patted the lock of hair, "and I, will die together in space."

This time Lisa let her eyes fill with tears, forming floating drops as she shook her head free of them. "Of course, Roque. For you, I will do that."

They held each other for a moment but Lisa’s sense of duty rose insistently. "I must go."

Roque released her and formally saluted her. "And I must stay. Tell me how I can be of service as I wait for the end."

"I will. And...thank you Roque,” she returned the salute, wiped her eyes and kicked out of his office for the last time, the small box of Roque’s memories gripped in her left hand.

*   *   *

UNSOC Space Station Roger Chaffee, June 17 2082, 1230 EDT

Lisa went from compartment to compartment, chivvying crewmen, solving problems and encouraging the civilians to move faster. Throughout the station, crew and civilians began showing the first signs of radiation sickness. Reports of the spreading illness greeted Lisa upon her return to the Bridge.

"Commander, I recommend we start boarding the shuttles now. Otherwise we’ll have too few able spacers to move the sick ones into the sleds," the chief medic said, looking a little green himself.

"Understood. Board the sickest first with enough able-bodied to assist them in the sled."

Clicking to the all-hands channel she announced, "Attention, crew. Begin moving to the sleds. Department heads will direct you to your sled. Man each sled evenly. Move."

"That should keep their minds off the barfs for a while. Doc, make sure you hand out those barf pills to everyone and make sure they take them. Commander’s orders."

"Will do. Got a case of whoops bags with me too. See you on the sled.” his image faded from her monitor.

Celine popped up on the screen. "Commander, time to drop the bomb on UNSOC."

"Thanks. Time to stop fooling around. Time to talk with the Esteemed Panjandrum himself, Director-General Herr Doctor Subraman Venderchanergee."

Celine initiated the call and was soon speaking to Fred Palowicz, Head Controller of the A, or daytime, shift. He got a quick status report from her.

"Gus is blasting Subby right now, Lisa," Fred said. Gus Blukofski was the head of the C shift. The UNSOC control room had all three shifts in to deal with the emergency, much to Subraman’s displeasure.

"You ask about why we have so many shifts in here and I’d love to tell you but I can see Commander Daniels is on the line right now. I think she’d like to tell you herself,” he gestured to Fred, who, with a flourish, spun the volume up on the speakers.

"Chaffee, this is CAPCOM A. We have the Director-General Subraman Venderchanergee with us. Please repeat your request."

"Director. The Chaffee crew has sustained serious radiation poisoning from the explosion on the moon. Without treatment, up to five percent of our crew will die within the next two weeks. In addition, we have been monitoring the debris from the event and believe it will intersect our orbit within the next two to four hours. Over the last twenty years, as you know, we have constructed solar shelters from lunar materials. What you don’t know is they have been designed to function as emergency reentry vehicles. Lifeboats, if needed.

"In my professional opinion the Chaffee must be abandoned and all crew must return to Earth. To stay aboard will be to risk death from the impact of space debris, the effects of radiation sickness, or both. I request UNSOC assistance for this reentry." On-screen her face was composed and determined.

Subraman's thoughts raced. Abandon the
Chaffee
? What about his deals, his special service fees? Look at the radar; it’s clear as a bell! Cowardice! Evacuating all the crew, whether the makeshift ’reentry vehicles’ made it or not, meant the
Chaffee
would be out of action for months, as dozens of launches would be needed to ferry a new crew back up to man the station and get operations restarted. The budget would never stand for it.

"Request denied. Frankly, I am surprised at you Commander Daniels, trying to run away like this. Commander Holt would never do anything this drastic. In fact, wasn’t there some kind of meteor storm on his watch? Everyone wanted to evacuate the Chaffee then, too. Commander Holt went public, urging calm and declaring he was staying. He lived. So will you. I order you to remain on board and cancel this
evacuation
of yours."

"Sir, with all due respect, the matters are completely different. Meteor storms are one thing; this is a far denser debris cloud. It will spread to all orbits from beyond the moon right down to Low Earth Orbit. If we don't leave in the next four hours our chances of getting hit rise to one in a thousand. The next orbit, ninety minutes later, we will face one in five hundred chances. It gets far worse after that; seven in eight in thirty-six hours."

Subraman looked around at his three chief controllers. "Do we confirm those numbers?" Fred, Gus and Gayatri nodded yes. "From our own data or did it come from the Chaffee?"

All three stared at Subraman. Finally, Fred dropped his eyes and answered. "The Chaffee, sir."

"Well, there you are. Commander Daniels, until we can confirm your radar data and construct our own probability charts, you are ordered not to leave. That is how science works. Independent verification. I am not saying you fudged the numbers but we cannot have you abandoning your post from what could well be some error from your Astrogation section."

Lisa put out her hand to forestall a scathing retort from Celine.

"But our casualties from radiation sickness, sir. They need medical attention."

"Don’t you have trained medics? Is this beyond them? Do they need replacement?

Lisa controlled her anger with difficulty. "Two hundred people have been exposed to two Grays of radiation. Half will become incapacitated in another three hours. We have, total, two medics. For one hundred casualties. One person in twenty will die without prompt treatment. You’ve lost the Collins sir, are you determined to lose the Chaffee too?"

"When the sickest ones become known, we’ll send a rescue craft. For the last time Commander Daniels, you are ordered to stay put. Otherwise, the next shuttle will be bringing your replacement." With that, he stalked off to his office and closed the door carefully.

Lisa remained on screen. She knew from her long-ago assignments in the Control Room that Subraman was probably watching her remotely.

"CAPCOM, please advise us as to when you have acquired independent data on our incoming debris."

"Will do Chaffee."

"Our data will be on the sideband."

"No problem Lisa, we have all shifts here."

"It will be radar of the debris plume and radiation measurements."

"Roger Chaffee. Anything else for us?"

"Negative CAPCOM. The channel will remain up but unmanned. Holler and we will hear. Chaffee listening, out."

*   *   *

UNSOC Space Station Roger Chaffee, June 17 2082, 1315 EDT

"So, we’re staying behind?" Celine’s eyes were troubled as they sought Lisa’s on the Bridge.

"Nope!" snapped Lisa.

"Then we’re going on schedule?"

"You bet your sweet ass we are." A quick indrawn breath from Celine caused Lisa to smile. "Sorry. Figure of speech. Patch your panel over to Roque’s lab. Then get that aforementioned part down to the sled."

"Aye-aye Commander." Celine dimpled. "I never thought I’d have to chew out my boss about sexual comments."

"Scatter!" Lisa ordered. She floated from station to station, powering them down. In her ready room, she powered down the screen where the background image of her family lingered for seconds afterwards.

"Coming home a bit sooner than you guessed Shep. I hope it’s not a disappointment for you,” she scanned the room for anything else to take, then shook her head and returned to the Bridge. One final sweep of the space and she left the Bridge for the last time, dogging the door tightly. Maybe Roque would live one more orbit because of that.

The scene around the sled bays was chaotic only to the untrained eye. Lisa could see the staff swiftly handing crew, stowing precious cargo and batting away the unshippable excess. The floating tangle of people, bags, boxes and nets, plus the sheer noise of all this activity made her faintly queasy. Hoping she was not one of the ones affected with radiation sickness, she turned and headed to Roque’s laboratory for last minute instructions.