Edge of the Abyss: A Space Opera Novella (Max Mars Book 4) Page 6

  Max opened the hatch and stepped into the lab's airlock. Once the hatch sealed shut behind her, the decontamination process began. Nozzles sprayed her suit with a disinfectant, then the air was scrubbed. The lab was a Level 4 bio-containment area, designed to handle the most dangerous pathogens. The lab had its own power supply, and two redundant backup systems in case of emergency. Everything was functioning normally within the lab. The designers had gone to great lengths to ensure the safety of the facility—but still, the virus had escaped.

  Winston was diligently working, analyzing samples.

  “We lost main power to the ship,” Max said.

  “I thought I detected main engine shut down.”

  “Have you learned anything new?"

  “T-627CS. That is the name of the pathogen that was being developed. Thanks to Lieutenant Dobson, I was able to access classified files. Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

  “Give me the bad news.”

  “There is no anti-virus.”

  “What’s the good news?”

  "There is no good news.”

  Max cringed. She dug into her pouch and handed Winston the injection pen. “Can you analyze this and tell me the contents of the vial?”

  “I will try my best."

  14

  Max sneezed, blowing spatters of mucus across her visor.

  “God bless you,” Winston said.

  “Thank you."

  The two exchanged an ominous glance.

  “I'm sure it's nothing,” Winston assured her, but he was concerned.

  “I’m fine. Really.” Max was feeling anything but fine. She was beginning to feel a little lightheaded and weak in the knees.

  Dobson's voice crackled in Max's ear. “I think I found the problem."

  “What is it?”

  “Hull breach. One of those meteors tore through the cooling tower. The system shut down when it started to overheat, as a precautionary measure. I think I can patch it up and recharge the cooling fluid. Can you go outside and slap a patch on the exterior hull and see if you can find any other damage?”

  “Where is the damage located?”

  “Section 92. Just starboard of the centerline.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “Excellent.”

  Max almost didn't ask, but she was curious. “How are you feeling?”

  “All things considered, I feel fine." He paused a moment. "What about you?” Concern grew in his voice. “You’re not showing signs of infection, are you?"

  “No.” Max didn’t want to alarm him.

  "Okay. That’s good. Maybe we got lucky, right?”

  “Let’s hope.”

  “Keep me posted on your progress."

  “Wilco.”

  “Do you want me to repair the hull?” Winston asked, recognizing Max’s obvious distress.

  “No. I need you in here working on that virus and looking for a possible cure.”

  “I'll let you know as soon as I analyze this injection device.” He paused a moment. “Be careful out there.”

  “Always.”

  Max exited the lab and went through the decontamination procedure in the airlock. A light flashed green, and the main hatch opened. Max stepped into the corridor. She weaved through the hallways and found a storage locker with hull maintenance supplies. Every exterior compartment on the ship had supplies to repair hull damage. It was a standard safety measure.

  Max grabbed a roll of hull tape, an activator, and a plasma torch. The hull tape came in 10 foot rolls that were 2 feet wide and a half-inch thick. It had the consistency of electrical tape. It was a soft, pliable composite alloy with an adhesive on one side. All you had to do was peel off the backing and affix it to the hull, covering the damaged area. The activator was a handheld device with two prongs on the end. It sent a charge through the tape that caused the alloy to harden. The finished product was 20 times harder than the strongest titanium alloy. It was a quick and effective way to seal hull breaches.

  Max attached the tools to retractable cables on her utility belt. There was nothing worse than losing a proprietary tool while working outside of the ship, watching it spiral into the abyss. It would cause unnecessary delays, and would require a trip back inside to find a replacement. With hull breaches, time was usually of the essence.

  Max marched through the corridors to the nearest starboard airlock. Once she was outside, she activated her mag boots and clamped onto the hull. She began the arduous walk across the ship toward the centerline.

  Max was breathing heavier this time, and sweating more. The claustrophobic feeling grew. With each breath she felt more lightheaded. This was new territory for her. She had always been able to muscle through any physical discomfort before. But this was different. She was lethargic. Her body felt like it was made of rubber. Her muscles had no strength. She was definitely getting sick.

  Her boots clanked as she plodded across the hull. The pounding of her heart seemed to echo in her helmet. She was drenched in sweat by the time she reached the breach. She kept adjusting the temperature in her suit, but she never could get comfortable. It was either too hot or too cold, the latter of which would lead to bouts of shivering.

  Max cut off a section of the tape and knelt down to place it over the small hole. Then she used the activator to strengthen the material. The material hardened and was ready for final fixation. Max grabbed the plasma torch. A brilliant blue arc streamed from the tip of the torch, melting the material, fusing the alloy with the hull. Max ran a nice bead along the side of the patch as she welded the two together.

  Despite being exhausted, Max was quite pleased with her handiwork. The repair was solid. She stood up and surveyed the area for any other damages. Satisfied with the integrity of the hull, Max contacted Dobson before she headed back inside. “Dobson, do you copy?"

  “Go ahead, Commander.”

  “We’re all sealed up out here.”

  “I'm just about finished making repairs. Then I can get the reactors back online.”

  “Fingers crossed.”

  “See when you get inside.”

  “Roger that.”

  Max began her march across the hull. The purple clouds of the nebula rumbled and flickered with electrical discharge. It was a sight to see. The galaxy had infinite wonders to behold. But Max didn't have time to stop and enjoy the scenery. She wanted to get back inside, find a bunk, and take a nap. Maybe she could sleep this thing off. 15 minutes was all she needed, she thought.

  Her head was beginning to spin, and her chest was growing tight. She hacked and coughed and could hear the phlegm rumbling in her lungs. She sounded like a three pack-a-day smoker. She had never felt like this before. Sweat was dripping from her forehead. Her eyes were red and droopy. There was no doubt that she had a fever.

  Thunder rumbled again. A brilliant flash blinded Max temporarily. The inert particles in the nebula allowed a bolt of lightning to strike the Aurora. It was hard to say how far from Max the bolt hit, but the charge shorted out the electronics in her suit. Her magnetic boots failed. Max was knocked unconscious. Without a tether to the ship, Max tumbled away from the Aurora, drifting toward the abyss.

  15

  Without power to the EVA suit, Max would only have the amount of oxygen contained in the suit and the small supplement in the reserve tank, which would last maybe 15 or 20 minutes, tops.

  Max drifted away from the Aurora, each second making it more difficult to return. With no power to her suit, she wouldn't have use of the thrusters. There was no tether cable to keep her attached to the hull. She would keep moving on her current trajectory until she impacted with another object.

  Max pried her eyelids open, regaining consciousness. It took a moment to gather her wits. Her eyes widened as she watched the Aurora fade into the haze. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her face tensed, and a stream of obscenities flew from her lips.

  Without power, the suit’s comm system was down. But her wireless earbud was still fun
ctional. It served as a backup communication device. "Winston, do you copy?"

  “Go ahead.” His static filled voice crackled in Max’s ear.

  “I’ve run into some technical difficulties out here.”

  “What’s the problem? I've been monitoring comm systems. I thought you had repaired the breach?"

  “Well, the breach is fine. But I seem to have taken a bit of a detour."

  "Detour?"

  "I may need a little assistance getting back on the ship."

  "Say again. You're breaking up."

  Max repeated herself, but could barely make out Winston's patchy response. She was quickly drifting out of range, and the electromagnetic interference of the nebula wasn't helping anything.

  The shape of the Aurora was a vague outline now. Whatever lethargy Max had been feeling before had been stifled by the current rush of adrenaline. She was alive and alert as she drifted to her death.

  Max took in slow deep breaths. In through the nose, hold, and out through the mouth. She needed to regulate her respiration and heartbeat. If she let herself plunge into a panicked frenzy she would use up all of her remaining oxygen in the blink of an eye. Not that it was going to make much difference in the long run, but she wasn't ready to give up hope just yet. Though, there was no denying, things looked grim.

  Max drifted by a small asteroid. If she could latch onto it, she might be able to launch herself back in the direction of the Aurora. But the space rock was too far away.

  She kept drifting through the nebula, and soon the Aurora completely vanished into the haze. She used the asteroid as a visual reference and tried to make a mental note of the Aurora’s last known position.

  She began to float through bits of debris. Twisted, mangled sheets of metal. Fragments of bulkheads from the Aurora, perhaps even the Vantage. She drifted past wires and electronics. Small chunks of metal pinged against her suit as she glided through the debris. It wasn't long before she slammed into a large section of the Aurora’s bulkhead that had been severed during the meteor shower. The impact rattled her skull, and sent her rebounding in the opposite direction. But Max managed to latch onto the debris before she drifted too far away. She clung onto it like a life raft. It was equivalent to grasping onto a wooden pallet in the middle of an ocean after a shipwreck. Though, this hunk of metal floating in space wasn't going to do her any good. At least, that was her initial impression. Then her crystal blue eyes caught sight of something miraculous. A small glimmer of hope flickered across her face as she saw a fire extinguisher affixed to the bulkhead. Compressed nitrogen gas. The cold gas could be used as a thruster.

  Max clawed her way along the bulkhead and grasped the extinguisher, detaching it from its harness. She looked at the gauge, checking the charge. Thank God it was full. She breathed a sigh of relief and offered a small prayer of thanks to the Universe.

  Max clung onto the bulkhead with one hand and the extinguisher with the other. She glanced back to the asteroid, trying to get her bearings. The giant rock was growing hazy now as Max drifted away. Using the hunk of rock as a reference, Max made her best guess at where the Aurora was positioned. She aimed herself in that direction, crouched against the bulkhead, then sprang away.

  Max launched into space, the bulkhead tumbling away behind her. She aimed the nozzle of the extinguisher behind her, squeezed the handle, and spewed a burst of propellant. It helped to accelerate her speed. She used small bursts from the nozzle to adjust her trajectory. With any luck, she'd get a visual on the Aurora before too long.

  The oxygen in her suit was running out. She was breathing normally, but each breath seemed to contain less oxygen. CO2 was building up within the suit. She grew increasingly lightheaded. Soon she would pass out. She just had to maintain consciousness long enough to get back to the ship.

  16

  This was it. Max was officially done. If she made it through this little adventure, she promised herself she was going to stop gallivanting around the galaxy and live a more peaceful life. She was thinking of white-sand beaches, crystal blue water, and a small bungalow on the beach. She didn't need much. She could live off her meager pension. She could live out the rest of her days in a resort community where the biggest threat would be an overcast day. She didn't need to be a hero anymore. She didn't need to track down Silas Rage, trying to exact revenge for the death of Doctor Tor. What was it going to accomplish anyway? It wasn't going to bring the doctor back.

  All the little things she had previously complained about seemed insignificant. Her life was pretty good actually. She had Felix and she had Winston, and those two were never going to leave her. Drifting through space, running out of oxygen, at the brink of certain death, made the simple life sound extremely appealing.

  Max struggled to maintain her mental focus as her oxygen depleted. At first, she wasn't sure if she was hallucinating. But the vague outline of the Aurora began to take shape. Another burst of adrenaline fueled her efforts just about the time her vision was fading. She aimed for the Aurora and blasted the nozzle of the extinguisher, propelling her on a collision course. The buildup of CO2 in her EVA suit was clouding her mind, and it took everything Max had to stay conscious. She kept firing the extinguisher, propelling her forward, until she finally reached the Aurora. She hit the hull, then bounced away. A few quick bursts from the extinguisher put her back on target.

  She navigated to an airlock and punched in the code. The hatch slid open, and Max pulled herself inside. She collapsed on the deck and passed out before she could seal the outer airlock hatch. She was going to die a few feet from breathable air.

  Winston arrived in the nick of time.

  From the corridor, he sealed the outer airlock hatch and pressurized the airlock. When the light flashed green, the robot slammed the button on the bulkhead, opening the inner airlock hatch. He rushed into the compartment and pried off Max's helmet. He instantly began chest compressions, attempting to revive her.

  Max's limp body was unresponsive.

  Winston continued with steady compressions for over a minute. Things were looking grim, and the robot feared the worst. But he wasn't going to stop. He would have continued his attempt to revive her until his joints wore out or his power source went dead.

  Finally, Max gasped for breath, filling her lungs. She felt like everything was spinning. She glanced around the airlock, dazed.

  "You're safe now,” Winston said. “You're back on the Aurora."

  "I don't know if I would call being on the Aurora safe, but it's better than being out there."

  Winston smiled. "Perhaps you should get some rest?"

  "I'm fine," Max said, peeling herself off the deck. "I just need a few minutes to get my bearings." She almost fell back down as she tried to stand. Winston clutched onto her and helped her back to her feet. "I insist. You've got a fever, and you've over exerted yourself."

  "You don't need to baby me."

  "I'm not babying you."

  "I'm fine. Let me just catch my breath." Max tried to stand tall, then proceeded to collapse.

  Winston caught her again before she smacked the deck. He scooped her up into his arms, cradling her. He carried her down the corridor and found a nearby stateroom. He opened the hatch and set Max on one of the racks. She had passed out somewhere along the way.

  Winston watched her as she slept, ever the faithful guardian.

  Max slept a fevered, uncomfortable half-sleep, tossing and turning with nightmares—never quite awake, or asleep. She twitched and jumped, but the bad dreams were like fantasies compared to her waking life.

  She finally lurched awake, sitting up, gasping for breath. Her surroundings looked unfamiliar. It took her a moment to realize where she was.

  Winston's reassuring face calmed her.

  “How long was I out for?"

  “32 minutes and 23 seconds. How are you feeling?"

  “Shitty. But I'll take shitty over dead any day.”

  Winston agreed.

  Max noticed tha
t the emergency lighting was back on. “I take it Dobson got the reactors back online?”

  "It would appear so." Winston hesitated for a moment. “There is something I need to share with you. I didn't want to burden you with it until you had a chance to recuperate.”

  “What is it?”

  “The injection pen you gave me to analyze… The residue is a positive match for the pathogen.”

  Max's eyes rounded. "You're saying Dobson injected Takagi with the virus?"

  “I'm saying that the injection pen contained the virus at some point in time. I can't say with any degree of certainty when or how it was used, or by whom."

  17

  “Wait a minute,” Dobson said, his face full of frustration and disbelief. “Let me get this straight. You think I injected the virus into Takagi?”

  Max shrugged. She held up the injection pen. “I found this in the pocket of one of your uniforms in your stateroom. Do you want to explain to me how it got there?"

  Dobson was livid. "I don't know how it got there. But it's not mine, and I didn't kill anybody!”

  “How can you be so sure? You said you had no memory of any events since the Aurora reached the nebula.”

  Dobson gritted his teeth. "It's not in my nature to kill someone.”

  “I think the Navy would beg to differ. You're a trained killer.”

  Dobson scoffed. "Oh, please. I look at nav screens all day long. I plot jump coordinates, run diagnostics, oversee weapons and propulsion systems. I haven't fired a weapon since basic."

  Max delighted in catching him in a lie. “Really? What were those two plasma bolts that you fired at me?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Max stared him down for a long moment.

  “Okay, fine. I'll play along. What possible motive do I have for killing Takagi, compromising the safety of the entire crew, putting myself and my career in jeopardy? Please, by all means, enlighten me on that one.”