Worlds Apart

Hours later, I returned to the bridge. The inspection had turned out to be vital. The boat’s batteries had been shorted out and I had had to re-route precious power to recharge them.

The scanner was back on line, but when I glanced at it, I wished that it wasn’t. The sight of its display caused my blood to run cold. Our destination had a moon, and a very large one at that. It had been on the other side of the planet when we had come of hyperspace and with the state that it had been in, the scanner had been too screwed to spot it before. And of course, the astrogation computer had written the flight plan solely for the planet.

I immediately added the extra data and reran the program. There was a short delay, and not just because of storm damage. Then I read the result. It was a sentence of death. On our present course, we would collide with the moon. On enquiry, the computer came up with exactly one alternative: shoot back out into space. That I knew would finish us. The main engines were almost shot so sooner or later, so the ship would be running on emergency batteries alone. We had to abandon now and hope that the lifeboat could make it to the planet.

When I informed Maria of our fate, she took it like a man. My earplugs rang from the sound of some tool striking a bulkhead quickly followed by a flood of language that could be best described as unladylike to say the least. I did not wait for the luxury of a flood of tears. At the first opening, I brusquely ordered her to get the hell out of there. Then, I switched off my link.

After sending Arnie to the lifeboat, I went to our cabin to pack our belongings. On top of one bag, I put a small picture. It was my wife and I in either others’ arms on our wedding day. I was in my best suit with a pink carnation in the buttonhole. For her part, Maria looked absolutely radiant in her long white dress. The sun was shining and our faces beamed with promise. We had been so much in love then. In spite of all the years that had past since, we still were. After gazing at the picture for a moment longer, I zipped up the bag.

I must have sat in the lifeboat for five minutes wondering where Maria had got to when I remembered that my commo link was still off. Guiltily, I switched it back on. Almost immediately, her voice came on over the air.

"Are you still there?" I replied that I was.

"There is a problem down here." She sounded as if she was starting to panic.

"What is it?" I asked.

"There has been a radiation leak and it has trapped me in the engine room."

I thought for a moment then asked, "Shall I send Arnie?"

"No!" Her voice suddenly took on an air of confidence. "There isn’t time. Anyway the central module is probably too hot for any of us to enter. I’ll use an escape pod."

I didn’t like the idea of that one bit. "Are you sure? Perhaps you could put on a suit and make your way along the outside of the hull."

"No." If I was starting to crack, Maria was now unruffled by the situation. "That’s too risky. I am better off in a pod."

I gave up. My wife can be very strong willed at times and I prefer to quit whilst I am not too far behind. "OK, then. But, once we are both clear, I will dock with it and pick you up."