Finding Joy the Hard Way - part 4
a four part sci-fi adventure
If you just tuned in, hop back here for part 1
It took us ten minutes of weaving through rough tunnels and one bathroom break before we reached proper corridors again. Despite the limits of our flashlights, it was obvious this area had been long abandoned. Rust and mould covered most of the metal walls with only minimal chipped grey paint remaining. And the air smelled musty. I set my goggles to continuously report on its quality—the last thing I needed was an exotic fungal infection.
“Shouldn’t be much farther,” I said, faking a cheery voice while questioning why in the hell I’d let myself be dragged into this.
“My feet hurt,” said one kid.
“Mine too,” said another.
“I need to pee,” said another, and we’d only just stopped for a pee break!
I pursed my lips, but Noora turned to the kids before I said anything.
“We’ll be on the ship in a couple of minutes.” She managed a wide smile. “Just be quiet, please.”
One twin put up her hand.
Noora pointed to her. “Yes?”
“Janie says I’m not good at being quiet.”
“Well, now’s the time to prove her wrong,” Noora said. “Quiet now.” She tipped her head down the corridor, which I took to mean she wanted me to take the lead.
I continued forward. My goggles said ten more metres. Turning a corner, I noticed a faint glow emanating from the line of lighting along the top of the wall. It was eerie and green, the kind of lighting in horror videos, the ones where monsters tended to jump out. I swallowed and kept walking. There was no way I’d admit I was scared in front of the kids—or in front of any human.
A few more steps led me to a door, on the other side of which was a small room with a door to the main part of the port and an airlock, according to the map. Hoping the airlock had maintained its seal, and that there was air on the other side, I tried to open it.
Even though I was big and strong, I couldn’t budge the lever. I needed Noora’s help to get it to shift. The lock released with a clunk. As we pulled it open, a low groan sounded from the hinges. No one had used this space in a very long time. (A little oil would have done wonders.)
The biggest kid pushed past us and went inside. “Ooh, this is cool,” she said, her voice echoing.
I followed her in, only slightly regretting not asking her name earlier. She stopped at the inside door to an airlock that had power. The window showed a standard-size industrial airlock, and through the outside door, we could just make out New Haven against the starfield.
“Hey, kid, we don’t need the airlock,” I said. With a sigh I dropped the duffel full of spacesuits. We wouldn’t be needing those either.
As I turned to the other door in the room, Noora strode past me.
“This is…” Using her weight, she shoved the lever down. It clunked. “Our exit.” She opened the door.
The lights in this new corridor came on automatically, exposing more of the same rusty, musty walls.
“Okay, kids, through there and straight to my ship.” I gestured to the kids to follow Noora. Once they were all through and I counted to make sure no one had wandered off, I pulled up the rear.
The corridor wasn’t long. Metal plating at the end separated us from the dockyard. Noora drew out her cutting torch and got to work.
It took only a few minutes to cut another rounded rectangle. Once done, she stood and kicked it open. The metal struck the dock floor with a resounding gong.
“Oh, shit.” Noora backed up a step.
Basil stepped into view. Behind him a security detail pointed weapons at us. In the distance, the gangway leading to my ship beckoned. We were less than fifty metres away.
I pushed past the kids and Noora, gritting my teeth. On a whim I set my goggles to record the interaction.
“We’re coming through,” I said.
Basil smirked. “I don’t think so.”
“My ship is right there.” I pointed. “I’ll take everyone,” I said, indicating the kids and Noora. “And we’ll leave right away.”
“It’s too late for that.”
The security detail shifted in closer.
“I think my profit margin will look much better after the sale of an abandoned water tanker.” Basil’s expression grew even more smug. “You created a perfect opportunity for me.”
I needed to do something big and do it fast. Without thinking, I turned and herded the kids and Noora back into the room. I slammed the metal door, and it let out a clang that made my ears ring. I picked up a discarded pipe and inserted it between the lever handle and the wall.
“Let me get in there.” Noora pulled out her welding torch and sealed the door closed.
I had no idea how much time that might buy us.
“What’s going on?” one kid asked.
I turned to five sets of wide eyes staring at me, like I had some sort of easy answer. How in the hell had I ended up with a group of children depending on me? I swallowed as I tried to come up with a plan. That was when I spotted the duffel I’d abandoned on the floor.
“We’re going to step outside,” I said.
“Into space?” one of the middle kids asked.
“You know it’s a vacuum out there, right?” The oldest girl frowned at me like I was an idiot. “And it’s near absolute zero.” Clearly she’d been keeping up with her study of space facts.
“Aren’t there monsters out there too?” one twin asked. “Mom always said if we didn’t go to bed, monsters would come into the airlock.”
I grimaced. “That’s a terrible thing to tell a child.”
“And—” the other twin started, but I cut her off.
“We have spacesuits and not a lot of time.” I crouched and pulled out the emergency suits. I opened the container, ignoring the instructions printed on the box. Instead, I turned to the oldest girl. “I need your help getting your siblings into these.”
As she started dressing the kids in what were essentially clear bags, I messaged the ship and told them to get ready to disembark. We would enter through the aft airlock. As soon as we were all in, we needed to leave. I planned to leave a very poor rating for this spaceport.
“Done,” the oldest girl said.
All five kids were now sealed into their emergency suits.
“That was fast.” I grabbed the safety line and clipped all the suits onto it like a chain of kids in clear bubbles. “Noora, are you ready to go?”
“Just finishing up,” she said without looking our way.
I gathered the remaining two nanite spacesuits before tossing the now-empty duffel into a corner.
“Can’t they chase us outside?” a middle kid asked in a tone that made my skin crawl. He contorted his face like it was the deepest thought he’d ever had. “I saw a vid where—”
I cut him off. “Maybe, but it won’t matter because we don’t need to go far.” My ship confirmed it was ready to go.
I put on the nanite helmet and felt the tiny robots descend over my body. The suit fit perfectly, and the air inside had a fresh scent with a hint of sunshine. Swinging my arms up and down, I savoured the mobility. I needed to get my own nanite suit.
Noora finished her weld—just in time, as I could hear banging on the other side. I handed her the last nanite spacesuit, and she had it on in seconds. (These suits were awesome.) Then I clipped Noora in at the end of the chain of kids.
“All right, everyone in the airlock.” I clipped myself to the front of the train and led the way.
The seven of us squeezed inside the airlock. I connected the end of our safety line to the hard point on the wall, just in case. As soon as Noora closed the inside door, I hit the emergency release. Why wait?
With a bang, explosive bolts launched the outside door away from us. The escaping air tugged us out along with it. The kids squealed as if this was the most fun ever.
As we hit the vacuum of space, the kids’ emergency spacesuits inflated, suspending each child within a sphere. We reached the end of the rope and stopped with a jerk, but the line held.
“I remember why those emergency suits were recalled now,” Noora said over the radio. There didn’t seem to be any comms in the kids’ suits, which secretly delighted me.
“Because they’re balloons?” I twisted to study the outside of the asteroid. The previous tenants—the secret military folks—had attached a ladder running the direction we needed to go. All I needed to do was pull myself along it.
A short distance away, the hulking hull of the Virdis loomed over us—my home and a safe haven for the kids. Just as I got myself down to the ladder and transferred our safety line, my ship fired its thrusters and began moving away from the dock.
“What the hell!” I was still fifteen metres from the aft part of the ship. If I could only reach the hull and the ladders there, I could pull us all to the airlock.
Basil must have forced the Virdis to leave! I gritted my teeth before reminding myself I didn’t have time to let my anger fester. Things had escalated to where I was sure if Basil found us here, we wouldn’t survive. (Good thing I’d recorded everything.)
I looked back at the others. In the sunlight, the kids in their bubbles looked like a string of pearls. Noora floated at the end. I took a deep breath.
“I’m going to jump,” I said.
“That’s—”
Before Noora could finish, I launched myself off the asteroid with as much force as my legs could muster. I (foolishly) floated free on a direct course for my ship. With my hands out, I coasted toward the hull, which from this angle looked like it could use a good scrub. I hoped I’d reach the ship while there was still slack in the safety line.
On my final approach, I held my breath, reaching both arms toward the ship.
I hit the hull with enough force to rattle my jaw. Then my helmet thunked against it. My arms crumpled, and my shoulder took the full force of impact.
I didn’t have time to grab anything before I bounced back into the void. As I continued to reach for the ship that was now out of reach, my heart sank. It was too late to change anything. I’d doomed us all.
“Sorry,” I said to Noora as a lump formed in my throat. The children should never have trusted me. I’d failed them all.
My suit jerked, and my arms and legs flopped like a marionette’s. Then I was being pulled back to the ship. As soon as I touched the hull, I twisted and grabbed the nearest handhold.
That’s when I saw Chen’s smiling face behind the faceplate of my old-fashioned yellow spacesuit.
“I got you,” he said with a grin. “Now, let’s reel in those kids.”
After eating a ridiculous serving of noodles (it turned out Chen cooked when he was anxious—and he was anxious about us) and getting the kids settled in bed, I slept for hours.
It was late the next day when I made it to the bridge. The view through the windows was a field of endless stars—just how it should be. As I sank into my seat, I noticed a little statue sitting on my armrest. It was Joy the Stork, giving me a derpy smile despite having a beak instead of lips. She’d been returned. I smiled back.