Trix flicked on the ship’s main channel. “We’re about thirty minutes from Deimos. Prepare for stable orbit.” After turning off the speaker, she reached around her console to turn various knobs and pull switches. Stars lay beyond her cockpit window, the culmination of a childhood dream.
One she’d shared.
The feelings of betrayal were now moot. What good was holding a grudge when her twin couldn’t beg for forgiveness anyway? Orville had been traveling the stars for years with the absolute best. He probably didn’t remember the sister he’d left behind.
Static came over the channel before Dustin hollered, “Isn’t this where the Star Jumper lost contact?”
Trix’s nose twitched. Such a stupid name. Sure, it was the first spaceship to travel to Mars and was set to voyage to Jupiter. Given the years it would take, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity that Orville could hardly pass up.
But he should have. They were a team.
The static returned. “Yo, Trix. You up there?”
She opened the channel. “Yeah, this is where they lost communication about five months ago.”
“How are we looking?”
Trix found the panel that displayed their communication with Earth. “Looks fine.”
“Great. Need to get the word out that Deimos is made of green cheese.” His cackle filled the cockpit until she muted the comm.
Dropping into her chair, Trix finished the preparations for orbit. Certainly Benjamin Quail could’ve used her piloting expertise. She wasn’t the highest performer in class at the time, but years of experience with these clowns had taught her plenty.
The ship adjusted course, falling into a natural orbit around the moon. Mars loomed above her head while the sun shone beyond. A couple hours and they’d catch sight of the asteroid belt a few days out from their position.
Pulling her legs under her, Trix flicked the all clear and leaned back. Earth was a pinprick from here, but she could see her and Orville’s apartment clear as day.
“You wanted to get away from me since we were kids! You hate me.” That’s what she’d last said to him. Those were the words he took with him when the shuttle launched.
Her friends had gladly let her stay at their place. They’d torched his favorite science calendar and trashed his name for days on end. Didn’t even watch the launch even though it was the biggest event since Quail’s return from Mars.
But Trix had accessed the stream in the middle of the night. Watched it again and again to confirm he’d gotten on the ship. Leaned in over and over in the hopes he’d finally see her in the crowd. But he walked off disappointed because she hadn’t been there.
Opening her eyes relieved the pressure of tears. After Orville left, Trix had worked harder than she’d ever had in hopes of joining an exploration team immediately. Perhaps if she left soon enough she’d see him again.
Trix reached for the communications panel and adjusted the frequency. Speaker open, she called, “Star Jumper, this is Venus’ Voyager. Do you copy, Star Jumper?” Static. She tried another channel, same message. No response.
Every tick of the frequency twisted her stomach. The pilot didn’t do much beyond fly, eat, and sleep. While the scientists explored, she watched the radar for debris. The Star Jumper was the only ship in their vicinity, until the flashing light went out. Earth had said such communication failure had happened before and it would return.
But it’d been months. Something didn’t feel right.
The channel crackled.
Her heart leaped. “Star Jumper?”
Dustin’s voice weighed on her shoulders. “Nah, girl. Letting you know we’ve reached the surface of the green cheese moon.”
Trix’s nose shriveled. “I’m not stupid.”
“Your brain capacity is moot, as is any scientist worth his salt on Earth. I’m stepping on green cheese, literally.”
Wiping her hands across her face, Trix wondered why she took this job. Dustin Merriwell survived off nepotism alone, his grandparents and parents vital to the discovery of proper fuel and shielding to get beyond the moon and back home. Even the scientists he’d brought along hated his guts. It was a miracle he still breathed.
“Hey, I’ve got something weird here.”
Trix leaned on the panel. “Weirder than cheese?”
“A diary.”
Her brow furrowed. What would a diary be doing out here?
Someone else’s voice came over the line. “Maybe it was left by the cheese aliens.”
Dustin didn’t respond even as the crew chuckled over the channel. The humor stopped abruptly.
“Where are you going?”
“I just started taking samples.”
Dustin’s voice overshadowed everyone else’s. “Pilot, we’re returning to the ship. Get ready to pull out of orbit.”
The air in the cockpit chilled. Sweat beaded under Trix’s collar as she stared at the stars.
“Trix, do you read?”
Wetting her lips, she hit the speaker. “Yes, captain.” Why were they leaving so soon? What was this diary he’d found? And why did she feel so cold?
Shouting ensued over the comms until Dustin boomed with an authority and weight they’d never heard before. Trix ignored it all, prepping the thrusters and lighting up the nav computer.
The door behind her slid open with a bing. Dustin marched in, still clad in his green and charcoal space suit. “Hope you can read this,” he said.
A worn leather journal slammed onto her console.
Spine locking, Trix grabbed the book and checked her settings. “Don’t do that. These are delicate–”
“Deal with it later.” The ferocity in his amber eyes silenced her protest. “Decode the book and chart a path.”
“Get a scientist to do it.”
“They can’t read your codes.”
“Excuse me?”
Dustin ran his gloved hand through his dark blond locks, brow crinkling under unknown strain. “I saw one of your notepads and the weirdo scribbles you do. That book has the same stuff.”
Weirdo scribbles? Trix’s throat clenched. Looking at the journal for the first time, she recognized the haphazard blue stitching in the bottom corner. A failed attempt to salvage Orville’s favorite notebook.
Flipping the pages, she found the final entry in their twin code. Star Jumper had changed its plans, and they were going to stop in the asteroid belt to take samples before going onto Jupiter.
Trix slammed the book into Dustin’s chest and shut off the autopilot. “Hang on.”
Shuffling feet behind her preceded the projection of Dustin’s voice across the main channel. “Buckle in. It’s going to–”
Trix activated the thrusters, momentum pressing her deeper into her seat. A slam and groan behind her didn’t deter her focus on the band of asteroids.
Engines running at seventy-eight percent, fuel solid. She flicked switches and turned the manual control to adjust their position. Nothing on the radar.
Her mind drifted as she sought Orville in the flashing blue screen. She could almost see his overgrown curls and inquisitive hazel eyes. Time meant nothing in the void of space, but every moment took too long. He could be hurt or hoping for rescue.
Anything but dead.
“Trix, look out!” Dustin ripped the controls from her grasp and banked right. A comet streaked past them.
Retaking the wheel, Trix adjusted.
Yellow and red brightened the eternal night. Without oxygen, the explosion died quickly.
Trix’s body shuddered. Tears trailed down her cheeks as she gulped air.
Dustin leaned on the console, paling as he stared at the spot. “Was that…”
Trix wiped her face, but the throbbing in her head continued. She tried to speak through her clenched throat.
“Maintain course,” Dustin said. He stepped back to buckle into a seat. “There could be survivors, so step on it.”
Survivors.
Mustering an ounce of hope, Trix returned to her previous speed, pointing toward the explosion.
Within an hour, they saw metallic debris. Another passed, and they were immersed in the remains of the Star Jumper.
Trix slowed to maneuver around the shattered hull. Liquids slid across her cockpit visor as they flew through the floating globs. Wiring would spark before being snuffed by the vacuum of space.
Dustin jumped on the radio. “This is Venus’ Voyager to Star Jumper. Can anyone hear me?”
Trix numbed at the sight of plants and blankets. Earth comforts that filled their own vessel.
“Star Jumper, can you hear me? Commander Quail.”
Static. Trix gripped the wheel tighter. She shouldn’t have been so selfish. If the opportunity had been presented to her, she would’ve taken it. Why had she blamed Orville? She’d abandoned him in his moment of triumph. Her own twin.
Biting her lip, she averted her face from Dustin in case the tears came. The intermittent static clenched her chest. She couldn’t stay here much longer.
“That way.” Dustin turned her toward the controls and pointed through the cockpit window. “There’s an SOS in the static. It got clearer when you were over there.”
Turning around, Trix and Dustin analyzed every piece of debris for a sign of life. The pattern grew clearer with every moment.
“Ejection pod!”
Trix hit the thrusters, Dustin gripping her chair. The battered pod floated some distance from the debris, ice forming on the glass.
Dustin smashed the main channel. “Get ready for pod retrieval in the main hangar.” He ran out of the cockpit.
Trix got into position and opened the hangar. Once the pod was brought inside, she shut the doors and initialized the stabilizers.
Then, she ran. Sliding down ladders, across halls. The screech of welding tools and crack of glass got louder. She bolted into the hangar and jumped down the ladder.
Dustin and Barley held up an astronaut in a white and blue suit. A mop of overgrown curls shaded his haunted hazel eyes.
Haunted, until Orville saw her.
Subscriber Contributions
Crystal Stewart – old diary with clues and secrets
JPC Allen – the moon really is made of green cheese