ISSUE #9 | Excerpt, "A Song for Ganymede"
WRITTEN BY AUSTIN P. SHEEHAN, AS SEEN IN PLANET SCUMM ISSUE #9
Illustration by Sam Rheaume
***
A light on my station flashed amber. A distress beacon. Captain Jensen’s eyes darted at me, her dark hair tied back into a bun.
“I’m scanning for the source,” I said, typing into my console. Probably some miners in trouble on a dead asteroid. Before I could lock on, the signal disappeared. “It’s gone.”
“Officer Walther, cut speed by 30 percent.”
“Done,” said Walther. A conceited smile spread across his face.
Again, the amber light lit up my station. “Let’s not lose it this time, Keller,” Jensen said.
“I’m doing another scan.” My fingers flew across the console, fixing onto the beacon. “Found it! A ship, low orbit on the far side of Ceres.”
“Good work, Keller.”
“There’s a recorded message, Captain.” I glanced up. Our eyes locked for a second.
“Well, play it.”
I keyed the command, and a distorted voice filled the bridge. “This is Ta— the Eagle I. If you’re receiving this... please help. Our ship... damaged in— teroid field. Small family of— Ganymede-bound. Going into stasis. Hope... the… —rt holds.”
Everyone’s eyes were on the Captain.
“Walther, change course,” she ordered. “And decrease speed. We’re going in for a closer look.”
***
Their ship filled the viewscreen. An old Yankee-class transport with a small cargo bay. But unlike the Luxembourg, the Eagle I was capable of going inter-atmosphere. Or would have been, if she wasn’t so damaged. She spun slowly on her axis, her hull dented and scarred, gaping holes in her side. Our scans indicated she was still using power, but all systems were off-line.
“What do you think, Captain?” whispered Suun, our shy systems engineer and medical officer.
“I think this just became a rescue operation.” She turned to face us, eyes keen. “We’re going to dock with them. Check their crew, their cargo. If they can make the trip safely in stasis, we’ll take them with us.”
In silence, Walther matched speeds with the transport while the cratered surface of Ceres filled the viewscreen.
Jensen turned to me. “Comms Officer Keller, don’t you have a job to do?”
“You want me to communicate with a crew that’s in stasis?”
“We’re about to initiate an orbital docking procedure. And we’re going to do it by the book.”
“Okay, Captain.” I shook my head. What kind of response did she expect?
“Eagle I, this is WTC transport Luxembourg, do you read? Over.” Silence.
“Eagle I, this is the Wasserman Transport Company’s Luxembourg, do you read? Over.” Walther was barely concealing his laughter. Even Suun sported a rare smile.
“Eagle I, this is the Luxembourg. Wakey-wakey. We’re about to perform an ODP. If you could stop your rotation so our Nav Officer doesn’t have to do all the work, that’d be appreciated.” I looked up at Jensen with a shrug. She was not amused.
“Match their spin, Walther,” she ordered, as I removed my headset.
Walther maneuvered the Lux with grace, deftly controlling her thrusters. It was a delicate operation; a blast at the wrong time and we’d collide. As much as Walther’s smug arrogance got to me, he was an impressive pilot.
“Docking procedure complete,” said Walther.
“Good work,” said Jensen, her voice calm. “Walther and Keller stay here. Everyone else—get suited up.” As comms officer, I had to stay at my console, but envy wormed through me. Just once I wanted to suit up and explore the unknown. Space got boring watching from behind a monitor.
***
“Captain, what do you see?” I asked into my headset. I wasn’t getting anything from their video feeds.
“Darkness. Every system’s out except the stasis pods. We’ve got three survivors.”
“They must be the luckiest sonsofbitches,” I said, turning to Walther.
“For an asteroid to take out all power but the pods, that’s unheard of…” A chill ran up my spine as his voice trailed away.
"I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Captain. Be careful.”
“There’s no danger,” dismissed Suun’s soft voice. “The Eagle I’s hull has ruptured, but she’s holding.”
“She’s right,” Jensen added. “There’s no other signs of life, and very little in the way of cargo. We’re going to bring their stasis pods aboard the Lux.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Captain?”
“We have to. Her stasis pods could fail any moment, and she’ll be under even more pressure when we start moving again.” I glanced at Walther, who gave a resigned nod.
“Roger that, Captain.” I put down the headset and turned to Walther. “What are you thinking?”
“I think you need to talk some sense into your girlfriend.”
“Jensen and I aren’t—”
“Oh that’s right—she dumped you.” He grinned, enjoying picking at my old wound.
“It was a long time ago, and I’m over it,” I said. “Anyway, she won’t listen to me.”
“That’s probably why she’s doing so well these days,” he mused. He was a great pilot, but was even better at pissing me off.
***
“Captain, are you sure about bringing them on board?” asked Walther, when Jensen returned to the Lux’s bridge.
“Something doesn’t add up about this, Captain,” I said. “No Yankee-class ships have left Mars recently, and Ceres has only just come between Mars and Jupiter. She shouldn’t be out here if she’s going to Ganymede.”
“I know. It strikes me as odd, too.” Jensen sighed, looking from face to face. “But we all know the Planetary Space Council law. Any ship that is capable must respond to a distress beacon. Any crew trapped on a damaged ship must be rescued. I’m not going to break PSC law in my first mission as captain, dammit! So unless you have anything helpful to contribute…”
“Space is a lot more dangerous, and a lot more unpredictable than the halls of the Academy, Captain…” My face burned as I realized what I’d said. Shit.
“Officer Keller,” Jensen replied with a withering look, “I’m beginning to regret requesting your services for this trip.”
“Sorry, Captain. I didn’t mean that how it sounded.”
“It’d be easier to accept that apology if you weren’t the Communication Officer. Route your systems to my console. You’re dismissed.” Overcome by embarrassment, I slunk off the bridge, Walther’s laughter following me down the steel hallway.
***
I found Suun in the auxiliary cargo deck with the Eagle I’s stasis pods. Each pod had an ID card pinned to a small storage compartment. We stood next to each other, staring into the faces of the Eagle I’s crew, who wore nothing but black underwear. Our guests were: Aquil, a thin, muscular, dark-skinned man with greying hair; Liani, a petite woman in her early twenties, with long light-brown hair and a smile on her lips; and Tarek, was a young man, stocky with strong features and dark curly hair.
“How are they, then?”
“They all appear healthy.” Her voice barely carried over the humming of the Lux’s engines. “But I’m having trouble accessing their vitals. That can happen after moving active pods, and should sort itself out soon. But I don’t see it, Keller.”
“Don’t see what?”
“The family resemblance.” She was right. They all looked different—different bone structures, skin tones, hair colours.
“What are the odds that an asteroid would take out all systems except the stasis pods, Suun?”
“Maybe not all other systems…” A thoughtful expression crossed her face. “It might have been a malfunction, but my scanner detected something else draining power. I couldn’t trace it though. Regardless, Life Support systems like stasis pods are the most heavily protected. But having all the other LS systems out except the stasis pods... I’ve never heard of anything like it before.”
“I think there’s something wrong about all this.” They couldn’t just be lucky. No one was that lucky.
“Do you think it could be some kind of trap?”
“I’m not saying that, but…” I shrugged.
“Not possible, Keller. We’re in the middle of Planetary Space Council territory. No one would set a trap here. Maybe on the far side of Uranus, but even then it’d be unlikely. Plus, the crew are in stasis. They won’t wake up until we tell them to. They pose no threat whatsoever.”
Reassured by her words, and relieved of my duties, I went to my bunk.
***
Jensen was waiting for me in my quarters. Not the good kind of “waiting,” where she’d be under the covers, wearing nothing but a smile. “Charlie, we need to talk.” She was wearing her tank top and leggings, sweaty from a workout.
“Sure thing, Captain.” I stood to attention. “I apologize for what I said earlier.”
She continued, ignoring my apology, “How long have we known each other? As friends.”
Friends? We were definitely more than that at the beginning.‟About seven years, Cap– uh, Stella.”
“I’ve known you the longest of anyone on board. And you’re right. The Academy taught me a hell of a lot, but not everything. When I graduated, they told me I had a habit of always making the right decision. Everything in the book—every damn thing I’ve been taught—says bringing that crew on board was the right call. So why do I feel like I’ve done the wrong thing?” I stood there silent, unsure what to say. It had been years since the confident, determined Captain Stella Jensen had been so open with me.
“I can’t—”
BANG—a shockwave shook the ship, answering for me. The lights flicked out and the doors shut, sealing us in.
“Shit! What was that?” I said.
“Shh, listen!” The fire alarms had kicked-in—a shrill beeping echoed through the ship—but no klaxons warning of a hull breach.
“We can’t have hit an asteroid—Walther’s too good for that.”
“Shut up, Keller. Walther and Suun are on the bridge. They haven’t called for help. No intercom, no radio…”
“Which means?”
“We’ve got to get to the bridge!”
***
AUSTIN P. SHEEHAN is a writer of speculative fiction and a lover of language, literature and '90s TV. Armed with a psychology degree, he went out into the world to further study humanity, and now prefers the company of his wife and greyhounds. Although Austin wrote his debut novella while living in Melbourne’s inner suburbs, you'll of ten find mountains in his stories, whether they are science fiction, fantasy, alternate history or horror. Find him on twitter @AustinPSheehan, or at www.austinpsheehan.com.