Orbital

Fifty-Nine Exit

I race down the corridor as quickly as my swollen fingers and aching knuckles can pull on the straps and handrails. Twice, I hit the padded doorways separating the different modules with my shoulder. I just wince and keep going.

At the secure section, I press my thumb on the pad and rush through the hatch as soon as my body can squeeze through.

With an angry fist I pound on Dr. Ling’s door. “Ling! Get out here, now!”

I try the handle, but it’s still locked securely from inside.

I could get a plasma torch from my lab and cut my way through, but it would just be easier to get Attwell or Tamara to let me inside.

I don’t want to give him the opportunity to slip away, so I head for the intercom to call someone with a key. That’s when I notice the hatch to Attwell’s plasma research lab is slightly ajar.

But Attwell is back in the module with the rest of the station crew…

“Dr. Ling?” My voice is more inquisitive than furious now.

A thousand thoughts go through my mind as I grab the lever and pull open the door. I never even think to draw my gun.

All the lights are off in the lab except for a row towards the back — where Attwell’s airlock and experimental chamber is located.

Behind the thick glass doors of the airlock I can see stars through the small open hatch used to test the plasma airlock.

Ling is floating to the side of it. His mouth open in horror, face filled with burst vessels and crystals of blood ring his lips. He resembles a swollen wax caricature of himself, even worse than how I look. His body exploded on the cellular level from the inside. I just got a little bruised.

Scrawled onto the glass in black marker with an uneven hand is one word, “Sorry.”

Ling’s body bobs up and down behind the letters as a cruel exclamation to the statement.

“Holy shit!” mutters Tamara.

I turn to see her and Attwell crowding into the doorway.

“Where is everyone else?” I ask.

“Back in the module. What happened?”

Attwell’s face is slack. “He…he must have bypassed the override. I don’t understand. Ling was a good kid.”

“Obviously he felt very guilty about it,” says Tamara. She pats him on the shoulder. “Maybe he was threatened?”

“By whom?” asks Attwell.

“I intend to find out,” I reply. “Can you close the aperture from here?”

“Yes.” Attwell drifts over to the control panel and starts going through menu screens.

The small hatch slides shut over the opening and air begins to rush into the chamber. Ling’s body begins to turn around in the current, like flotsam in the ocean.

“Get Warren over here,” I tell Tamara. “I want him to have a look at his body before we move him. Do we have…”

“Body pouches? Yes. I hoped I’d never have to use one of those up here. But yes.”

I inspect the interior of the chamber. Frozen globules of Ling’s blood drift around his head like orbiting planets. As the warm air fills the space they begin to melt and turn to wet drops.

“Oh man,” says Warren as he drifts into the chamber. “Not him. I liked the guy.”

“We all did,” replies Tamara.

Attwell shakes his head. “I need to go talk to Cara.” He unhooks himself and leaves the module.

Warren waits for him to get out of earshot. “This is going to be bad for him. If they find out that Attwell was lax in some security protocols he could be facing jail time.”

“Ling had full access,” says Tamara. “This will be the end of Attwell’s DARPA work, but I think he’ll manage.” She looks at Ling’s grotesque face and shakes her head. “I can’t believe it. He’s the one that planted the bomb too?”

“He might not have known what it was,” offers Warren. “Maybe he was being manipulated. Who knows?”

“Well, someone sure knew when they decided to eject me into space,” I reply.

“You must feel this is justice then,” says Tamara. “Eye for an eye.”

I glare at her. “No. I don’t. I have no idea what Ling was going through or why he did what he did. The last thing I wanted is…this. I’m not the man you think I am.”

I’m conflicted by a lot of things. There’s the death of the affable Ling who was friendly and didn’t seem like he had a harsh thought for anyone. There’s the realization that it all might have been a facade hiding his true intentions. Then there’s the other realization that with Ling dead, we may be no closer to finding out the identity of Silverback.

My whole motivation for coming here was to find out who was responsible for the death of my fellow astronauts and nearly creating global disaster.

If I’d got to Ling sooner…

But no, I was too distracted by Samantha. The time I spent staring at her image on the screen while she was locked in her room, trying to figure out where I went wrong in my judgement, should have been spent thinking analytically about the situation.

Silverback’s operative on the station was going to be several steps ahead. Doing something as dumb as putting the extra canister in their own lab was nonsense. I should have seen it as that.

Ejecting me as I snooped around in the lower section was an opportunity to hide the canister in some place where it would distract from the real culprit. I had been out for hours. There was plenty of time to frame Samantha.

It was a temporary measure at best. I’m sure she would have been exonerated after a background check. The canister was the most circumstantial of pieces of evidence.

“What do we do about the body?” asks Warren.

“We can let it be for now. I’ll get us a couple clean suits and help you later when we all have clear heads. Tamara, can you seal this door behind us when we leave so only you and I have access?”

“You mean lock out Attwell?”

“Yes. And everyone else. I need to make a report.”