🚀 At Long Last

🚀 At Long Last

by Thomas Broderick

The proximity alarm tore Alex from a sound sleep. Even so, he lingered in bed for a few minutes. If it had been an actual emergency, he’d already be dead. 

And that hadn’t happened yet. 

Yawning, the middle-aged man got out of his bunk and shuffled the few feet to the command terminal. The alarm shut off as he brought up the local star map. Yep, there it was, a juicy asteroid lumbering his way.

“Not bad,” he murmured, inputting a few commands. Hitting the well-worn EXECUTE button put his ship into motion, its tractor beam aiming at the Mount Fuji-sized amalgamation of iron, nickel, and cobalt. 

“And off she goes,” Alex said with a smile, much too self-satisfied for the amount of work he’d actually done.  

“Send a message to Terra,” he told the onboard computer while preparing what passed for coffee. “Another one is on its way. ETA…” He leaned back so he could see the screen. “About thirty days. Instead of credits, have the nearest waystation send me some fresh veggies. That’s it.” 

The computer replied with a happy chirp. Nodding and with a hot beverage in hand, Alex sat back down at the terminal. His ship, a small blinking dot on the screen, slowly orbited the galactic center. A straight shot to Terra had been barely possible, and he figured getting any new finds home during the next month would require pinballing them off other scouts.  

Alex groaned. He hated sharing bounties. After a moment, he sighed, realizing they probably felt the same about him. That was just part of the game – 20,000 scouts scouring the galaxy for raw materials, their ships drifting along with the gravity pulling everything else in the Milky Way.  

Figuring the drink would keep him up for a while, Alex opened his messages. The first was from the company thanking him for another year of loyal service. 

Delete.

The second message was from the woman who used to be his wife. Like she did every year, she included a picture of a tombstone surrounded by fresh flowers, a tombstone he had never visited. He didn’t have the strength to read the name engraved on its surface, only the Bible quote at the bottom.

Alex rested his fingers on the plastic keys. The words didn’t come. 

They never came. 

Frowning, he turned off the terminal and went back to bed. 

An alarm, this one unfamiliar, tore Alex from a sound sleep. “What the hell,” he muttered while standing up. The metal deck was cold on his bare feet, and he had to fumble in the dark for a few seconds to find a pair of well-worn slippers.  

The terminal was already on when he sat down. A dot was heading his way, but this was no asteroid. This was…

“Shit,” Alex muttered, buckling up, inputting a few commands, and reaching for his headset. Thrusters pushed his body back into the chair. “This is BA-724. Confirmed your distress signal. On route. What’s your status?”

“This is BK-987,” a grainy but audible voice reported. “Lost all engine control. Cannot reestablish.”

“ETA fifteen minutes. Do you have functioning life support?”

“All nominal. Take your time.”

Alex nodded, his adrenaline and heart rate returning to normal. Over the next few minutes, he flew on autopilot, taking control only when his ship came within range of the stranded vessel. 

“Engaging tractor beam. Brace yourself.”

“Roger.”

Everything had gone by the book, and within the hour, Alex found himself standing at the primary airlock. The opening door revealed the first human being he’d seen in the flesh in ages. 

“What the hell were you doing all the way out here in a ship like that?” 

Alex and the younger man, who had introduced himself as Jonathan, sat across from one another at Alex’s cramped mess table. 

Jonathan sheepishly looked down at his lap before replying. “Stupid, I know. BK-987 is, was my dad’s ship. I wanted to put my inheritance to work.”

“Let me guess. You didn’t run engine trials in LEO.”

Biting his lip, Jonathan nodded. “Yeah.”

Alex leaned back and sighed. “You lucked out, kid. Another twenty minutes and I wouldn’t have had the fuel to spare. Anyway, repair parts are on their way. Should take a few days. I hope you have enough credits to pay me back.”

“Consider it done.”

“Good. That’ll make things a lot easier between us. Anyway, I’ll let you get back to your ship. I’m sure there’s…people you need to contact.”

“Thank you again. I’ll…I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

“You do that.” 

Without another word, Jonathan walked back to his crippled ship. Only when Alex heard the airlock slam shut did he let out a low chuckle.

“Moron.”

The repair parts and Alex’s order of vegetables arrived on time and within hours of one another. Alex examined the container’s peppers, leafy greens, and carrots. His contact had even included a little jug of cooking oil and some seasoning packets. He’d have to sauté something for dinner and maybe prepare a salad. 

The hour he spent unpacking his culinary prizes was marred only by the dull thuds of Jonathan performing an EVA. The noise was an annoying but welcome sound – the young man would soon be on his merry way. 

That evening, Alex had just about finished his dinner planning when Jonathan’s voice came on the intercom. “I just wanted to let you know I’m all patched up. Diagnostics should take about twelve hours. Until then, there’s something I’d like to give you. I thought credits wouldn’t be enough for, you know, saving my life.”

Alex furrowed his brow. “Sure. I’ll open the airlock for you.” 

Looking haggard but happy, Jonathan appeared in Alex’s mess with something the older man would have never guessed – a bottle of red wine. “I was saving it for my first find, but since I’m starting back to Terra tomorrow, I’d like you to have it.”

“That’s nice of you, kid. Hey, look, you’re going to be washing down ration packets with recycled piss for the next two months. Want to split it with me over dinner? I got some actual food delivered today. Probably go okay together.”

“Sure. I’d really appreciate that.” 

Dinner was finished, and the wine all but gone when Jonathan finally asked Alex a question.  

“How long you been out here?”

Alex didn’t have to check the ship’s chronometer to answer. “Five years, three months, two days.”

“Wow. That’s pretty much since the beginning. Dad told me that prospecting then was like having a death wish.” 

Alex shrugged. “Well, a lot of the guys ate it the first year. Now, with the mandatory shield upgrades, well, you’re safer here than…” He paused to take another sip of wine. “Safer than crossing the street on Terra.”

Jonathan nodded. “I guess that’s true. But, still, doesn’t it get lonely?”

“I won’t lie. Sometimes it is, I guess. But…” He paused to gesture off into the distance. “You got to admit, living out here is so much simpler. There’s the occasional vid call with some company exec or another scout, so it really doesn’t feel all that bad. I…uh…not much for me back home, anyway.”

“Hmmm. Well, my original plan was to make a go of it for a few months, save some credits. New technology’s coming online all the time. Figure the manned fleet only has a year tops before it’s automated.”

“Yeah, I heard that one too.” Alex downed the last of his wine. “Thanks for this, by the way. Been forever since I’ve splurged on anything. Besides that, never expected a glass bottle to make it all the way out here.” He picked up the smooth container and rubbed his thumb over the paper label. It felt so much different than anything else on his ship. He set it down but let his hand linger momentarily. 

“Like I said…least I could do.” 

“Go back to your ship, kid. Get some rest. We’ll both need to be chipper tomorrow during the detach.”

Alone, Alex cleaned the dishes, but instead of going to bed, he sat down again at the mess table. Resting his head on his crossed arms, he fell asleep reading the wine bottle’s label over and over.

He dreamt of before, and this time it wasn’t a nightmare.  

“Oh, come on!” Alex groaned as the terminal flashed red. In so many words, the clamps on Jonathan’s ship were stuck.

“Stay where you are,” Alex said to Jonathan through the intercom. “I’ll suit up and get you going in a few minutes.”

It had been over a year since Alex had gone outside, but performing the safety checks on his suit still came second nature. Tethering himself, he stepped into nothingness and let the small jets on the suit do the work of getting him to the other side of his ship. There, BK-987’s eleven claw-like clamps refused to let go.

“Got any interesting stories to tell me as I pry you off?” Alex asked half-jokingly. He loosened the first clamp with a crowbar. “One down, ten to go.”

Jonathan laughed. “Hmm…yeah, I do, actually. Just before he died, my dad, his name was Peter, told me all about this ship. It was his pride and joy. He made his living with it even before prospecting became possible.”

“How’d he manage that?” Four clamps down.

“Cleanup in LEO. You know, the Kessler stuff. He lost a lot of friends doing that work.”

“I bet. My uncle died that way.” Six clamps down.

“But, over the years, he rescued twenty people with this ship. Those guys he saved, they gave it a nickname.”

“Lucky bastards. What they call it?” Eight clamps down.

Jonathan paused to clear his throat. “The Darkness into Light.” 

The words turned Alex to stone. A few seconds must have passed, because Jonathan asked if he was all right. 

“Yeah…yeah…I’m fine.” The crowbar had nearly drifted off into space. “There…last one. You register it?”

“Roger. All green. Detach.” Jonathan fired his maneuvering thrusters, and the ship began to move away.

“Now get home safe and make money some other way, will ya?”

“Will do. Thank you again.”

Alex watched as the Darkness into Light retreated from view. Even when it was no longer visible, he continued to look off into the distance. 

What he said next, he didn’t know if Jonathan could still hear him. It didn’t matter, really. 

“Bye, kid.” 

Alex headed back inside his ship, where he would, at long last, send a message to the mother of their dead child, where he would, at long last, plot a course for Terra. 

It was time to go home.