Homesick

The stone bench overlooking the river was one of the few places Vladimir remembered from his childhood, and he gravitated to it when he wanted comfort and peace. He sat at the table and traced the outlines of the squares that made up the built-in chess game. The traffic over the bridge above him was genuine and he could hear all the sounds of Moscow filtering in from the distance. Occasionally a passer-by would even walk passed his line of sight, though he remained invisible to them. For this reason, he didn’t notice Snouth until he sat down on the bench across from him. His blue eyes found his immediately and his worn cheeks spread in a paternal smile.

“Comrade,” Vladimir said, sitting up straighter.

Snouth looked around the scene appraisingly. “The Moscow River is long. Why this particular spot? You come here often I notice.”

“My father used to fish here,” Vlad said with a slight stammer.

“I wasn’t aware that was permitted.”

“It wasn’t.”

Snouth smiled again and his eyes squinted almost imperceptibly. “I look forward to your report,” he said, returning to business. “Naturally we have much to do before your return. You do well to rest. You face a difficult flight. Leaving early means you must jettison the remaining shuttlepod and all three bays to achieve necessary velocity with remaining fuel. The designers warn against this.”

“I am prepared,” Vladimir said.

“This will involve more than your technical skills,” Snouth warned. “You will need to be a good pilot as well. You will hit the asteroid belt at an inconvenient angle. It will require numerous course corrections no matter how well you program it.”

Vladimir nodded.

“And we will have to intercept you. I’m making the arrangements. Your belt angle will carry you quickly through, but you will not be able to establish good velocity to rendezvous with Earth.”

“That is part of the maneuver,” Vlad defended. “But I will be on course for Earth.”

Snouth nodded. “Within retrieval range, yes. I never denied your abilities as an engineer.” Then he took a deep breath and looked again at the river. “The westerners are a curious breed. The man Anderson is swallowed up and they follow him like lemmings over a cliff. He served a valuable purpose, but they don’t see.” He regarded Vlad. “He proved that an unarmed man is unsafe on the surface. The next logical step would not be to send another unarmed man, a woman, or even two unarmed crewmembers, but an army!”

Vlad nodded.

“Notice I still say they were unarmed even though they carried the security blanket we gave you.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Against whatever force Anderson encountered, what good would such a weapon be? Against plague? Against a silent army? Now you are the one who survives to call us to arms.”

Vlad said nothing.

“Sad,” he remarked. “Our first contact ends in disaster, whether war or misadventure. And our first mission ends with empty seats. Poor leadership at best, and that will be in our report to United Nations. I am already drafting our response, even though we should officially know nothing now. The news of their loss will be a terrible cloud of confusion, but clouds can be useful.” He motioned to the basket of chips on the table. “Don’t let me interrupt your lunch. We will talk later.” He then motioned to the small cup of vodka on the table next to the chips, producing one of his own. “To Captain Buds,” he said, raising his glass.

“To Captain Buds,” Vlad agreed before downing his.

“Vlad!” Sally’s voice boomed from behind him with a crackle of static in its wake.

He coughed violently, shooting drops of liquor out his nose and causing his face to wrinkle in pain.

Snouth’s face lost any residue of mirth. “What is this?”

“Vlad are you there? What the hell’s wrong up there?”

Vlad’s quarters on the ship quickly reformed around them and the stone bench morphed back into the utilitarian table between the door and the big window. Snouth remained motionless, still staring at Vlad.

“You told us they were dead!”

“I thought they were,” Vlad protested. “They didn’t contact me since the landing!”

“And you thought they had nothing else to do but talk to you? Did you try to contact them? Did you check their biomonitors?”

Vlad said nothing.

Snouth motioned to the console. “Answer them!”

Vlad rushed to the chair, brushing datapads from the com panel. He opened his mouth, but soon realized he had no idea what to say. He briefly considered not answering. Snouth couldn’t really make him answer and he might well see it as a potential solution. But that would cross a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. Although Buds would have his head if she suspected what he’d done, the penalty for real treason and mutiny would be far worse. He also knew the shuttlepod was well equipped for emergency maneuvers. They could eventually locate and track the ship even without his help. Also, the Kelthy had no real armaments and there was little he could do to prevent their boarding. That meant the only safe course of action involved a retreat. He had to act fast!

“Yes, Captain! I am here!”

“Oh, thank God!” Sally cried. “We found him! We got him back!”

Vlad’s mouth dropped open in genuine surprise. “Anderson?” he said, realizing he had all but forgotten the possibility of the man’s existence.

“He’s sick and we’ve got to get him to the infirmary! There’s something wrong with the navigation systems here. We’re not getting the directional feeds. Do you see a problem with the beacon?”

“I will check!” Vlad said in as neutral a tone as he could manage, but then stood puzzled for a moment. He fingered the menus on his console, activating the EVA tracking system. The pod wasn’t visible. Vlad nodded with understanding. Of course the computer would not be tracking the pod. That had been part of his slight-of-hand. But, how to reverse it without causing another logical dilemma?

“Access!” he shouted. “Show me status of Shuttlepod Two!”

“Shuttlepod Two is currently secured in Bay Two . . . Error. Docking clamps in Bay Two not registering correct locking protocols. Initiating search for malfunction.”

“Stop!” He sighed deeply, making frustrated punching motions with his hands.

“Vlad, we need that status report!” Ian shouted. “We’re blind as a bat down here!”

“I see the problem,” he said. “It looks like our antenna is out of position. I will align it.”

“It could also be a problem on our end,” Sally added. “The ship was exposed to a magnetic field of some kind. Can you boost the signal?”

“I try.”

On the communication display, he touched a square marked, “privacy.” He regarded Snouth, who was glaring at him now.

“They are alive, and you would desert them?” he said in disbelief. “I told you to be resourceful, not become a traitor!” His face narrowed in disgust. “Fix this! You represent your country and you have made us criminals! You don’t want to know the price for failure!” And then he disappeared, leaving Vlad in an empty room.

Vlad paused, taking a deep breath to assess his situation. “Access! Recognize Acting Captain Vladimir Coronov! Enter command line mode.”

“Awaiting command.”

He looked at the time display and counted silently to himself. He could think of many possible ways of re-tracing his steps, but none that could be done quickly. That left only one real option and it could be disastrous. “Restore all ships status displays, conditions, and preferences to the way they were at 12:00 hours yesterday. Exclude anything that has to do with current readings on instruments, the ships clock, and the ship’s navigational position. Save these as default settings and reboot immediately!”

There was a pause.

“This action will change your status as acting captain. Do you wish to proceed?”

“Yes.”

“This action will alter current personnel tracking reports. Do you wish to proceed?”

“Yes, damn it!”

“Do you wish to save current navigational course settings?”

“No! Absolutely not!”

“Ready to Reboot. This is your last chance to countermand.”

Vlad opened his mouth, but couldn’t bring himself to give the command at first. This was a big step, and one that couldn’t be undone. As far as he was aware, the ship’s computer had not been restarted since the launch. With terabytes of data driving all the ship’s systems, restarting the computer was not to be done lightly. Even with all the safety protocols built in, a computer system was like a house of cards, all built on precarious perches of logic. Starting from scratch would be hard to do without leaving evidence, and it could also be dangerous. If critical data were lost . . . But the alternative was to confess. That would mean certain disgrace! He looked again at the console and then back to the window. He had made too many tracks to erase any other way. He shook his head and stood up straighter. “Go ahead.”

Instantly, all the console screens went blank. Vladimir snatched his command key from the slot, yanked the lead off it, and scratched violently at the paint. It didn’t come off. He scanned the room frantically and rushed into the small partition that housed the toilet. He ripped a hand razor from the Velcro wall and rubbed it up and down the key with a gritty scrape. He was relieved when the paint flaked off and the stain beneath it began to fade under the pressure of his thumb. He splashed water on it and eyed it carefully.

When he emerged from the bathroom the console screens were just beginning to come back to life. Numbers were counting up and automatic commands were flying by. First the communications screen reappeared, then ship’s status. Vlad was relieved to see his screen-saver image of the Black Lion Bridge replace the navigational map. He inserted his key, sagging with relief at the blue menus.

“Access!” he said, his breathing returning to normal. “Give me a status check on Shuttlepod Two.”

“Shuttlepod Two’s last known position was on the planet’s surface. Checking current status . . . Shuttlepod Two is on approach vector. Initializing navigational beacon.”

Vlad nodded in satisfaction and then jumped back to attention. He ran through the narrow corridor to the pilot’s cone, grabbing the hand-held and tucking it under his arm. He stared frantically at the consoles, looking for other evidence to destroy.