Little Green Men by Cawdron Peter

Author:Cawdron, Peter [Cawdron, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Peter Cawdron at Smashwords
Published: 2013-11-09T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 05: Memories

The Dei Gratia was two hundred meters in length, carrying four scout craft in her belly. The shuttle was a heavy lifter, capable of carrying twenty-times her unladen weight into orbit under a standard gravity. She looked ungainly. Her three floors were dwarfed by eight spherical tanks lined up beneath her, designed to process and store tritium for use in the Argo’s ion-fusion drive. The Dei Gratia used graviton repulsion for flight, which Vegas complained gave the ship the handling characteristics of a brick.

Michaels began his search on the flight deck. He walked into the control booth as the outer doors closed behind an incoming scout. Jacobs was back. The door sealed and an atmospheric purge began, pressurizing the lock. Jets of high-pressure steam washed over the craft, melting the ice and washing away contaminants. The ambient light within the vast floor switched from red to green once the computer system confirmed decontamination was complete.

Jacobs climbed out of the scout. Michaels waited for him on the other side of the inner lock. The circular door opened and Jacobs stepped inside the Dei Gratia looking weary from more than the gravity. His shoulders were stooped, his eyes bloodshot. His hair was matted down with sweat.

“We need to talk.”

Jacobs barely acknowledged him. He hung his helmet on the rack and sat down to take off his boots. Through the thick glass window in the lock, Michaels could see one of the flight engineers already refueling the scout.

“We need to get off this fucking planet,” Jacobs replied, sounding exasperated.

“The Argo needs that tritium.”

“At what price?” Jacobs asked. “This was supposed to be a straightforward mining drop. No more than three days of surface ops.”

Michaels nodded.

“I need to talk to you about Hubbard.”

Jacobs looked up at him. His body seemed to stiffen.

Michaels wasn’t sure where to begin or quite how to explain what had happened.

“He’s here ... somewhere.”

“What?” Jacobs’ eyes narrowed. His head cocked slightly to one side as he sat there facing Michaels.

“He walked onto the bridge.” Michaels thought his words sounded dumb, but he was flustered, unsure quite how to explain what had transpired. His comment certainly wasn’t an explanation.

“Are you fucking mad?” Jacobs cried, gesturing with his arm toward the airlock door. “He died out there. I saw his body.”

“I know.”

Jacobs waited.

Michaels spoke, surprised by how hard it was to formulate any kind of plausible explanation for what had happened. “Hubbard doesn’t know what happened, at least not as far as we can tell.”

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” Jacobs asked.

Michaels felt his upper lip pull taut with emotion as he struggled to say, “No. I wish it was.”

Jacobs wriggled out of his suit and clipped it on the rack.

“Where is he?” the weary astronaut asked.

“I was hoping you might know,” Michaels replied. “You knew him better than anyone else.”

“I hated him more than anyone else.”

Jacobs scratched his head, adding, “Ah, shit. Look, I don’t know what the hell is going on here. Hubbard’s dead, OK? His body is rotting somewhere over a hundred clicks west of here.

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