If he didn’t know any better, he would have guessed that Pippa had agreed to the lease on the office space purely because it was less than a block away from the bar.
He grabbed his bag and keys and headed for the door. “Don’t you two work too hard. The mega discovery will still be here on Monday morning.”
“And don’t fall down a mountain,” Pippa said over her shoulder. “I need you to develop a presentation for an extended features set on the Nat-Geo product line by Wednesday.”
“Gee, thanks, boss.”
“Anytime, action man. Now get out of my office and go get your adrenaline rush.”
“Take it easy,” Mike said, mumbling as he frantically searched the web for anything that could explain the bead.
Charlie exited the building and headed for the elevator, all the while thinking about that little blue sphere. It must be site contamination, he thought. Had to be. Couldn’t be anything else.
Chapter Two
Ben Murray sat in the enclosed Operations Room wondering if he would be remembered by future generations. The lucky ones who would reach their destination—still nearly a hundred years away. His life would be spent rumbling through space.
All eight measurements of visual status display fluctuated green between the bottom three bars. Everything at a safe level. Then again, it always was. He must have had the most boring job on the ship although he couldn’t show it today.
Sitting next to him at the console was a new replacement. Jimmy was retiring, and it was Ben’s responsibility as the new senior team member to bring new operator Ethan Reeves up to speed.
Ethan was clean-shaven with neatly-combed, mousy hair and wore a crisp, dark blue uniform with red piping along the arms and legs. Ben had shaved that morning, his first in a month. There was nothing he could do about his frayed jumpsuit. Best to try and keep up appearances, at least initially.
“The four on the right are the critical measurements. You escalate immediately if one touches the red,” Ben said.
“I do it by pressing here?” Ethan said, pointing to a square on the console screen.
“Yep. One of the engineering team will fix it. The backup systems automatically kick in. If they don’t, you have to switch to manual override. You do that here.”
Ben patted a group of four safety-locked switches.
“How will I know if it’s worked?” Ethan said.
“You’ll be sitting in the dark with somebody from master control shouting at you through the speaker if it doesn’t.”
“Does it happen a lot?”
“Do you remember any service outages?”
Ethan looked to his left, frowned, and paused. “No. Anything else I need to know?”
“Our job is to monitor and control the ship’s internal power source for stability. That’s about as technical as it gets.”
Ben figured they didn’t fully automate the systems as it gave people on the vessel something to do. It also helped with compartmentalizing the crew.
“Can we go through it again?” Ethan said.
“One of us will sit with you for your first few shifts. You’ll be okay.”
Ethan sighed as he gazed around at the sparse, metal-paneled walls.
“Not what you were expecting?” Ben said.
“Have you ever seen outside? I mean, space?”
“Nope.”
“My teacher told me that the fleet had been built in a hurry, functionality over comfort. I just thought… Once I was up here…”
Ben shrugged. “Listen kid, it’s six hours a day in front of the display. The rest of the time, you can watch as many old movies and shows as you can handle. The food’s no different up here. We’re all in the same boat—”
Since a flu virus spread early into the two-hundred-year voyage, all sections of the ship were isolated. He’d been in Two. A child section containing five orphans, where he was fed and educated by a single adult who avoided any kind of relationship with the children. He’d only ever met orphans and often wondered if they were being singled out for the Operations Compartment.
“I get that. Survival of the species. We’ll be honored as the forefathers…” Ethan said.
“My advice is to make the most of your time here. Get a bit of mental stimulation, study the old books; it’ll keep you sane. I’ve got two years left, and reading kept me going.”
Six hundred and seventy days to be exact. It was close enough for Ben to start counting toward the promise of better things. He wasn’t surprised about the retirement age of thirty. Anybody who suffered more than fifteen years of this kind of confinement would surely go mad. His rewards waited in the retirement village. A new life. A chance to see the stars.
Maria Flores appeared by the door. “Jimmy’s leaving in five minutes. You better go. I’ll take care of Ethan.”
“Thanks, appreciated,” Ben said. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”
Maria smiled. “Get out of here.”
She was his idea of a perfect colleague in the Operations Compartment. She’d been part of the team for five years, was always polite, punctual, and never complained. Jimmy was the opposite: loud, usually late, but he was still likeable.
“Don’t forget, I’ll be testing you later on pseudopodia. Make sure you bring your A-game,” Maria said.
“I will.”
Ben enjoyed the gentle pushes she gave him. They studied microbiology together. It was the most interesting material they’d found on the hard-drive in the common room. When his motivation waned, Maria was always there. She made his life in the compartment feel like more than just watching the visual display and eating slop on his bunk. Before she came, he felt like a ghost.
He clanked along the dimly lit, grated corridor, squinting against a pink glow emanating from the airlock door timer. It had started its five minute countdown in bold, red digits.
A burst of loud laughter came from the common room. Ben passed the sleeping quarters and supply hatch before entering. Erika Kosma and Jimmy sat on two of the three chairs. Ben leaned against the kitchen unit. Having three in the room always made it feel cramped.
Today was different though. His colleague of over thirteen years was leaving.
“Thought you were never going to show, buddy,” Jimmy said.
“The timer’s running. You all set?” Ben said.
“I’ve never been more ready. Fifteen years in this place… I can’t believe it’s over.”
“We’ve been talking about what he’s going to do on the other side,” Erika said.
“Damn, I missed it,” Ben laughed. This was a regular and worn conversation, especially from Erika. It was all she talked about in the two years since arriving. “Are you still expecting a welcome party?”
“That’s the million dollar question,” Jimmy said.
His idea of money was probably as abstract as Ben’s, but Jimmy loved to use lines he’d seen in movies from their MP4 collection. Every day for the last thirteen years, Ben would find him in the communal area watching something. It lost its sparkle for him years ago, after he’d been through his favorites for the fifth time. Would the crew on the other side think Jimmy sounded strange? Like an actor, he thought.
“You better wait by the airlock,” Erika said. “Time’s ticking. You don’t want to miss it.”
The group of three walked back along the corridor and stood facing the countdown timer.
Jimmy sighed as he looked up and down the short corridor. “You know, a small part of me will miss this place.”
“A very small part, I’d imagine,” Erika said.
“We know which part that is,” Ben said.