Do You Dream of Terra-Two?

‘That’s right,’ Harry said. ‘It’s not a democracy.’

‘Well maybe it should be,’ Jesse said. ‘Poppy’s right. This is a chance for us to decide what kind of society we want to live in. How we make choices. How we deal with disagreement—’

‘We can’t do anything now,’ Juno interrupted. ‘Astrid and Eliot have sabotaged our escape shuttle. They made that decision without consulting anyone.’

‘So let’s vote on how to punish them,’ Harry suggested.

‘Whether or not to,’ Jesse said.

‘That sounds reasonable,’ Igor said, exhaling heavily.

‘It does to me too,’ Juno said.

‘Okay,’ said Poppy. ‘If Astrid and Eliot should be punished—’

‘For disobeying orders and putting our lives at risk,’ Juno interrupted, ‘put up your hand.’ She raised hers, and so did Harry.

‘If Astrid and Eliot should be canonized when we get to Terra-Two for being brave enough to save the mission and everyone’s life…’ Jesse folded his arms. ‘I don’t think that Astrid should be punished for doing what she thought was right. When the Russians save us we’ll be thanking her.’

‘If,’ Juno said.

Igor spoke. ‘Both Astrid and Eliot should be stripped of their duties and responsibilities and confined to the infirmary.’

‘I support this punishment,’ Fae said. ‘They put us all in danger. We’re a crew; mutiny will destroy us as quickly as engine failure.’

‘Me too,’ said Cai from behind her. ‘On Mars they would have been punished.’

‘Obviously,’ said Harry, ‘Astrid and Eliot do not get a vote.’

‘Which leaves one person.’

They all turned to Poppy. Five people were in favour of a punishment, one person against.

‘I…’ Poppy looked at Astrid’s pleading eyes, but then turned to Juno and the rest of the crew. Poppy loved Astrid for her daring, but she was terrified of what would happen to them all now. ‘I… I can’t decide,’ she admitted, and when the rest of the crew remained silent she noticed a low but insistent noise coming from one of the computers on the communication deck.

A message. She ran to it and opened the attachment that had finally loaded. It was a voice file.

‘What are you doing?’ Fae leant over.

‘Ultra-high-frequency radio communications,’ Poppy said. ‘Our transceiver picks them up sometimes.’

‘Eto Damoklov?’

‘Is he speaking—?’ Juno began, but Poppy shh-ed her violently, and pushed the slider to increase the volume. Reduced some of the background noise.

‘…vash neschastnyy sluchay…’

‘Our “misadventure”…?’ Astrid translated.

‘Accident,’ Poppy corrected. ‘Neschastnyy sluchay is accident. They’re talking about the explosion on Orlando.’

‘Who?’ Fae leant over to read the signature.

‘Sputnik 17,’ Poppy said. ‘The Russian station on Phobos. They heard our message. They say that their mission control has cleared them to send us a new service module. Engineers to come and fix our ship.’

Astrid dropped to her knees in relief, her eyes filled with tears. Jesse and Juno yelled in celebration.

‘How long?’ Fae asked, her eyes wide with renewed hope.

Eliot’s brow wrinkled. ‘Considering the acceleration of a VASIMR engine on a gen five Russian shuttle, and that we’re about 2.5 Astronomical Units from Phobos right now…’ he swallowed, like a doctor delivering a miserable prognosis. ‘About two months.’

‘Eight weeks,’ Juno whispered. ‘And with this level of oxygen… we’ll be lucky if we make it.’

Chapter 47 JUNO

^13.02.13

^{1 A.M.}

TEMPERATURE: 10°C

O₂: 86% SEA LEVEL

WEEKS UNTIL RESCUE: 7

IT HAPPENED FIVE DAYS later, when Juno was alone. Astrid and Eliot had been confined to the infirmary and so she and Fae moved their ailing commander into his own cabin. She’d been watching over him, reading in the half-light of his room, slipping into sleep herself, when the monitors started wailing. Her eyes flew open. Commander Sheppard was clutching at the duvet covers, struggling to breathe, gurgling and rasping, and Juno winced at the shallow sounds of his pain. She could see it in his eyes; the panic of oxygen deprivation, the fight in his clenching muscles. And, it was the strangest thing, she thought she could see the life drain right out of him. His face folded up on itself.

‘Commander Sheppard,’ she called out and began adjusting the machines, pulling at his oxygen mask, trying to save him, trying to keep him breathing, when she realized that he was slipping away and there was nothing she could do. She stared down at him in horror.

She didn’t know what he could hear, but she grabbed his hand in hers and said. ‘You were really good. You taught us everything you know. And you tried your best. You tried your best and you were really good.’ Before she was finished, it was over. The man was still. His wide eyes looked as if they were made of glass and he seemed… empty. He was still warm and soft but he wasn’t there and with the blood draining from his face he didn’t look like a person anymore, just a still thing.