Not Alone - part 1 of 4
In the depths of an uncharted galaxy, a mother and daughter crash-land on a desolate alien planet. Now they must survive…
In the depths of an uncharted galaxy, a mother and daughter crash-land on a desolate alien planet. Now they must survive…
Part 1
“I brought the emergency shelter, just like I was taught,” Em said. Within her bulbous helmet her delicate features seemed so vulnerable. The lights in her faceplate highlighted her pale complexion, earned from our life without sunlight—as was typical for space faring families like ours. Her wide eyes nearly broke my heart. I never wanted her to have to experience a shuttle crash, especially so young. But at least she got out uninjured.
She held the orange bag containing the survival shelter tight against her chest just like she held her massive stuffed bear back in our quarters. Her lower lip trembled.
“Good job!” I did my best to sound cheerful, as if we dealt with shuttle crashes and survival situations all the time—a lie, I know, but a lie Em needed. “Now, we need to find a good spot to put it up.”
Above, the sky reminded me of a heavy-handed oil painting—as if an unseen artist coated it in a solid layer of thick yellow paint. Should we expect clouds? I bit my lip. What will the weather be like here while we wait for rescue?
I should have taken the time to check the stats on this planet before we crashed. But in the heat of the moment, making sure our landing would be survivable was the best I could do. To make matters worse, I hadn’t really paid attention to the pre-mission brief... I swallowed. There was no point dwelling on that now.
“Does anyone live here?” Em interrupted my thoughts. She rotated around surveying the environment.
We stood in the middle of a decayed metropolis. It must have been quite a sight in its prime, with towering metal structures reaching for the sky. High above, arches connected them together. At our level, fragments of what may have been statues littered a landscape strewn with enough rubble to suggest a violent end.
“I think the people who lived here are long gone.”
“I wonder if I’ll see aliens?” Em always hoped to meet an alien on each world we visited.
I shook my head as I scanned the desolate landscape. “I can’t imagine anyone lives here anymore, but once there would have been aliens.”
Thirty metres to our right, a flat area big enough for the shelter extended out between the buildings.
I touched Em’s shoulder, but the padding of her spacesuit made me feel like I was only touching air. “Let’s head over there.” I pointed to where I wanted to go.
Side-by-side, we picked our way through the debris to the clear spot.
“I hope rescue comes soon.” Em dropped the emergency shelter, leaned back and stared at the sky. Far above, our home—and the only home Em had ever known—orbited out of reach.
“It’ll be soon.” My mind still raced through the events earlier, but there were gaps in what I remembered. Had I actually sent a mayday? Surely the automatic beacon fired, telling them where we were. I hated that I didn’t know. “I promised your dad we’d be back for dinner. Now, you must remember what I taught you so we can get this shelter up. Are you ready?”
Without a word, Em unzipped the bag containing the shelter. The rolled up tent crinkled as she slipped it out and spread it out on the ground. The orange of the shelter shone against the dull concrete. It was little more than a fancy tent—but it would hold a bubble of breathable air for us.
“I hope this is good.” She turned my way, but her gaze seemed to pass right through me.
“You’ve got it,” I said. A smile hid my uncertainty. “Now, what’s the next step?” My mind continued to churn. Was she truly ready for the challenge that lay ahead? I shouldn’t have brought her with me. But it was supposed to be a routine survey. If all had gone according to plan, we would have only dipped into the upper atmosphere.
I pictured Em and me earlier that day sitting at the breakfast table while her dad made breakfast.
“Please mom. Pleeeeeease.” Em looked at me with her infinitely dark eyes—the kind of gaze I never seemed to say no to.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I said before taking a sip of coffee.
“But, when I grow up, I want to be a pilot just like you....”
How could I say no to an argument like that?
Back in the present, Em stood, her weight settling on her heels, her lips in a tight line. Her gaze traveled to the bag and back to the shelter. She bit her lip and took a deep breath. Then she grinned, her face lighting up. “I need to connect this.” With a bounce, she returned to the bag and pulled out the compressor and held it up.
“Exactly.”
“Mom?” She looked my way and bit her lip. “I’m scared.”
“I’m still here,” I replied, trying to remain strong. We needed to get the shelter up as soon as possible. With a lump in my throat, I glanced around. Would we be safe enough here? “Remember what you were taught.”
“Right, the first step is to put the shelter up.” Em connected the compressor, and the shelter inflated like a bubble.
The orange fabric sides rustled as the air pressure forced them into shape, the metal threads that gave it strength un crinkling and becoming smooth. Our shelter was a standard two-layered model. The compressor would keep the finger-width worth of space between the layers of fabric pressurized enough for the shelter to keep its shape while breathable air would fill the interior. A small vestibule would serve as our airlock. Em could stand inside, but I would have to crouch.
“Perfect.” I clapped as Em packed the shelter bag into the vestibule. “I couldn’t have done better myself.”
Em spun around, her eyes darting. She shuddered as she whispered, “I want to go home.” Her words trembled and echoed through the empty air.
“Me too. A rescue ship will be along shortly. How about we go inside and have a snack?”
“I’d like a snack.”
I followed Em into the vestibule. She carefully zipped up the outside door then cycled the air. Once the light indicated the air was breathable, she opened the door to the interior. Pride filled me as I watched how carefully she removed her helmet and set it down on the ground. She even took extra care with her air hose. Next, she removed the airpack and powered it off. Finally, she took off the suit. She did everything exactly as I’d shown her.
I sat on the ground next to her. “How about you have one of your meal bars? I packed an apple cranberry one in your side pocket.”
Em pulled out the bar. I cringed as she opened the package with her teeth, but said nothing.
A gust of wind slammed against the shelter. The walls shook as if it were a rickety old tin can, the clatter echoing around us. Em made an ‘o’ with her mouth and shivered. I wanted to put my arms around her and pull her close, but a distraction would probably help more.
“If you were an animal, what would you be?” I asked, starting Em’s favourite game.
She scrunched her face as she pondered her answer. “I like sloths... and hippopotamuses. like the one we saw at the zoo on Bravo Station. How it spun its tail and sprayed its—”
“I remember,” I said. “An animal that big on a space station was such a surprise.”
“Hmm.” She took a bite of her ration bar. “Then there’s bats....”
“So you’re going to be a bat this time?” I lay down, surprised that the ground wasn’t more uncomfortable.
She shook her head as she stashed the wrapper in her pocket. “I think I’ll be a tabby cat.”
I nodded. In the end, she always picked a tabby cat.
Em yawned and rubbed her eyes. “I hope there are no spiders on this world.”
“Of course there aren’t,” I said with a smile. “Now, get some rest.” No surprise, the terror of the shuttle crash had wiped her out.
Without a word, she lay down beside me.
to be continued…