Stars and debris enveloped the pod. Limited power, no communications. Yet nothing compared to the betrayal on Trix’s face.
Orville remembered the sudden call to the administrator’s office. Sweat beaded on his neck until he opened the door. Face to face with Benjamin Quail, the first astronaut to land on Mars, he lost his tongue. Jaw practically unhinged, he gawked at the legend before him.
Then Quail mentioned his next expedition, exploring past the asteroid belt. And how he’d been impressed with a certain young meteorologist. The final piece to his expert crew.
Orville had fainted.
Should’ve been a red flag, but Quail waited for him to revive. And reaffirmed his desire for Orville to join the expedition.
Something knocked into the glass shield of the pod. A cracked helmet, “Benjamin Quail” printed in bold blue. Stomach sinking to his heels, Orville returned to the couple wires he’d been toying with. Margaret, the ship mechanic, had shown him some random tricks. He’d been more interested in her bleach blond bangs and sarcastic personality, but some of her teachings had stuck. Like how to repair a radio.
Static echoed in the pod. Orville tapped the exposed wires together in Morse code, sending an SOS while giving his ears a break from the buzzing. The temperature descended while the air grew thinner.
So much for an inroad. That’s what Trix had called the proposal.
As twins, they’d done everything together. Riding bikes, selling brownies. They’d even gotten in trouble together. But their greatest accomplishments lay in the stars. She the pilot and him the scientist, discovering the galaxy.
But Quail had asked for Orville. Not Trix.
Contempt knit her brow while she ranted. He’d wanted to get away from her since they were kids. Their fond memories were a lie. He hated her.
How hard he’d tried to undo her pessimism. But the only one who could convince Trix was Trix. And she had no doubt that he’d purposefully sought to wreck their shared dream. Leaving their apartment in a fit, she’d stayed with friends until he left a couple weeks later.
That was two years ago.
Orville startled, chunks of a meteor and the ship ramming his metal coffin. Eyes heavy, he locked his helmet in place. Everything cleared when fresh oxygen filled the sealed suit.
Three hours. That’s all he had left.
Their communications with Earth had gone out when they passed Mars, but no one was concerned. Another month or so, they reached the asteroid belt with no problem. The discoveries made his head spin. Months were spent studying the various minerals and compacted dust. Him and Quail had been out on one of these expeditions, Orville reveling in the bravery of this American hero.
Perhaps that’s why he didn’t notice the comet.
A blue streak exploded, brightening the emptiness of space. The calm belt they’d called home burst. Debris careened toward them.
Quail had the tether but ignored the inroad, hooking it to Orville. He’d made it halfway to the ship when a meteor knocked him off the line and into the stars.
The ship should’ve been safe. Even Margaret thought so when she dragged Orville onboard. But they were too close.
The minerals they’d marveled at pummeled the ship. Cracks broke the cockpit, sucking out the pilot. Grinding metal and creaking mechanics competed with blaring alarms. Panic tightened Orville’s lungs while he raced through the halls. People seemed to disappear without warning.
His saving grace was reviewing the safety manuals weekly. He ejected in an escape pod, thrusters forcing him into the rigid seat. Despite taking damage, he survived the storm.
But he couldn’t escape death.
Reaching in his bag, he retrieved a recorder. Thumb hovering over the record button, he glanced at a single star. Hoping it was Earth.
The recorder clicked on. “I know you’ll find this, Trix. Only you’d be crazy enough to fly through this minefield. Or whatever’s left of it. But that’s not important. I want you to know that I’m sorry. This was our dream, and I left you behind. I hate to say it, but…” He swallowed the knot in his throat. “I wish you were here.”
Stopping the recording, Orville breathed deeply. Stared at that single star. Part of him imagined Trix looking up at the night sky staring back. Their gazes unhindered by millions of miles of stars.
The star grew brighter. He checked the other twinkling lights in the sky. Nothing moved. Except that star.
Comet. Blood chilling, Orville reached for the various wires he’d tried mending. The only thing that sort of worked were the communications, static burning his ears.
He braced against the seat, praying his message would survive. That Trix would know how sorry he was.
The pod jostled. No other impact.
Opening his eyes, he found himself in a cargo hold similar to the destroyed ship. Drills and sparks rattled his teeth until the glass hatch was removed.
“Someone’s alive in here!” Hands pulled him out.
Orville removed his helmet and ruffled his sweaty brown curls. “Thank you.”
“Is anyone else out there?”
Heart sinking, he shook his head.
The whoosh of a door dragged his eye from the pod. A woman slid down the ladder. She jumped off before reaching the ground, brown curls wiping across her tense brow.
Relief filled Trix’s eyes.
Heart fluttering, Orville could only stare.
Trix closed the distance, launching into his arms. She cried. “Never leave me again.”
He squeezed tightly, tears pricking his eyes. “Not a chance.”