c. 2024 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(9-24)
When Dr. Judson Baines reached his Digger shuttle, the small craft had been overgrown with weeds, and partially hidden. But it took only a minute to key in the lock sequence with his com-link. Inside of the cabin, he noted a stale scent of abandonment. His stay at Roosevelt Station had been informative and interesting. Yet now, he was once again an orphan. A figure shunned on the homeworld of his ancestors. This condition gave him a melancholy feeling of loneliness and futility.
When he powered up the C-drive, it responded immediately. But upon rising from the planet surface, and gaining altitude, the vessel creaked and groaned. These noises made him anxious about attempting to pilot the transport into orbit. Something that would be necessary for him to see Mars, once again. After soaring across the broad expanse that once been called the Keystone of America, he veered back toward Lake Erie. Evergreen Estates was his only point of reference on the ruined landscape. He decided that a farewell visit was in order.
His ship touched down sometime in the afternoon. The sky overhead was gray and foreboding. But cyclical storm winds had not yet begun to stir the atmosphere. There was enough of a respite for one final jaunt around the property, peeking through doorways and broken windows. He took a synthetic tote bag, to collect artifacts. And kept a record of each incursion on his wireless tablet. As an afterthought, he paired the device on his belt to the Digger communications hub.
While trolling through rubbish at the vacant park office, by their maintenance garage, a notification chirped from his com-link.
Kelly Strafe sounded breathless, and grateful.
“Damn you, Juddy! I’ve circled over that trailer dump a hundred times! Where were you? And what made you come back to that spot?”
The university geek rubbed his eyes, which were itching from exposure to the raw environment.
“Hey, Kells! What a surprise! Are you on the Morningstar?”
She flipped her ponytail with excitement.
“Not quite, I don’t rate that class of ship anymore. I resigned my commission! Hornell Block sold me out. But he felt guilty enough to let me leave with an Ibid carrier. I’m a private contractor now!”
Baines struggled to comprehend this drastic shift in his cohort’s career.
“You’re an independent agent? After years in uniform? That had to be a difficult change to make. I can’t imagine tossing your rank and privileges...”
Strafe twisted knobs on the control dash. She wanted to see her friend, face-to-face.
“Blast off already! Get up here and dock, we’ve got a lot to discuss! Both of us have gone through many changes since riding around on the old tub!”
Her educated chum shook his head and sighed, uneasily.
“The shuttle was batted down by one of those weather disruptions, a few weeks ago. I think it suffered some structural damage. It went sliding across the front field at this graveyard of mobile homes. There’s no way to be sure of its integrity, without a scan by engineers who know the breed. It gives me the creeps to power up these engines. A trip into high orbit might make the hull disintegrate like an eggshell...”
His estranged companion tightened her jaws, and cursed.
“So, what you mean is that trying to escape might end up in a kill shot?”
Dr. Baines nodded and whistled.
“Umm hmm...”
The demoted officer shrieked into her microphone.
“JUDDY, QUIT PLAYING GAMES WITH ME! THE DIGGER SERIES WAS DESIGNED FOR TOUGH DUTY! JETTING AROUND ASTERIODS, MOONS, AND PLANETS! ONE FLOP IN THE MUD WOULDN’T COMPROMISE ITS SUPERSTRUCTURE! GET REAL, ALREADY!”
His reply came in a whisper.
“You’re right of course, but this flying tank sounds like it will come apart at any moment. I know all the specifications, but my gut instinct says not to trust the numbers. You want me to roll the dice? Okay, but what if I was right? You’ll be sitting there, watching a fireworks exhibition, in outer space. Is that a chance you’re willing to take?”
Kelly Strafe slammed the control console repeatedly, with both hands.
“DAMMIT, DAMMIT, DAMMIT!”
The professor grinned at her unbridled rage and fury.
“Evergreen Estates is a safe spot for the moment. Somehow, it has survived all of the calamities and disturbances of the last century. What I need is another Morningstar. A ship with more shuttles on its flight deck. That would give me a chance to get off of this big rock. It’s up to you, Kells. I need a favor. No one else can rescue me...”
The young woman clenched her fists, and howled.
“YOU WANT ME TO GO BACK? BACK TO MARS? BACK TO THAT DICKHEAD COMMANDER, AND HIS SUPERIOR ATTITUDE?”
Baines chortled over her descriptive query.
“Yes, I do. Though part of me thinks that this would be a better fate, to stay here and study and uncover lost secrets of our ancestors. I can imagine worse ways to spend the rest of my life. I wouldn’t mind streaming data about my work here, and storing files for future generations to read. Still, it’d be a lonely undertaking. And I can’t be sure that the kooks in Calimex won’t decide to march across this continent, in search of glory...”
Strafe fiddled with her instruments onboard the Ibid-C.
“I’m not getting anything from the population centers now, west, east, or north. More storm systems are brewing at the polar regions. It’s an odd effect of the poison that 21st Century people shot into the atmosphere. I can’t figure it out in scientific terms! What about you, Stephen Hawking? What’s your take?”
Her university contact shrugged and coughed while confessing his befuddlement.
“I can’t explain it in literal terms. It defies anything I’ve taught in a classroom setting. Anyway, here’s the final word. The decision is yours. If you try to bend your knee to those military wonks in the Space Force, maybe there’s a chance. I might make it out of here alive. Otherwise, it’s a matter of eating wild corn, and drinking rainwater. I could do that, at least for a few months or years. I wouldn’t hate being a full-time archaeologist...”
Tears welled up in the eyes of his former partner. She did not want the burden of having to choose between what could possibly mean life or death for someone so dear to her heart.
“WHY ME? WHY DOES IT HAVE TO COME DOWN TO ME?”
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