The Final Expedition

Day Ninety-Nine

At Karpov’s request, we had all assembled in Zvezda. Officially this was the end of Expedition 79. Expedition 80 had been scheduled to arrive and relieve Flynn, Karpov and Natalya, while Morrison, Aki and the ill-fated Mineau were to have remained behind and transferred to the new Expedition. I glanced at Karpov, expecting him to say something, however the Mission Commander remained strangely stoical, an uncomfortable silence filling the room, the mood quite morose. I sat at the galley table next to Natalya and tried to remember the last time we had all gathered together like this. While I spent a lot of time with Natalya, Aki and to a lesser extent Morrison, Karpov seemed to be distancing himself from the rest of us. Perhaps the guilt at not leaving the station when we had two Soyuz capsules instead of one was gnawing at his conscience. Flynn was even more reclusive, barely speaking a word to anyone other than Morrison.

“I almost expect to suddenly see a Soyuz capsule through the window.” Aki finally broke the silence and gazed wistfully at one of the windows in the floor. “Expedition 80 suddenly pulling themselves through the hatch with big smiles on their faces and telling us it’s only a communications malfunction, everything is fine and that the three of you had better pack your bags!”

“Yes, it seems strange to think that it would have been a sad day to be leaving here to return to Earth.” Natalya observed.

“I know what you mean.” Flynn agreed. “Before the nuclear strikes, I didn’t want the day to come when I had to leave this station. I mean, it is… was… the pinnacle of my career. I didn’t want that high point to end. Sure, I missed my wife and daughter and was looking forward to seeing them again, but I guessed it would be an anti-climax getting back to the world after six months in space. But now I just feel trapped here. I just wish I could get away from here, get back to Earth. I know I should be grateful that this place has saved my life and that in all likelihood, all that awaits us on the surface is a long, slow death from radiation poisoning, but it kind of just feels like we’re prolonging the inevitable here. We are inmates on death row and the station is our prison. We have had a stay of execution for 12 months give or take, but that day is still coming. We are all dead men walking.”

“Dead men floating.” I corrected, attempting to lighten the mood. Flynn shot me a dark look and opened his mouth to retort, but seemed to think better of it. I studied the American for a moment. His eyes had taken on a faraway look and there seemed to be a deep sadness there. Despite everything, I still pitied him, his loss. It was clearly a burden that weighed more heavily on him than anyone else.

“There are probably thousands of people down there in the same situation.” Morrison told his countryman. “People huddled together underground in bunkers and subway stations. Probably families surviving in basements under their houses, biding their time, waiting until it’s safe to emerge. They’re probably going stir crazy just like us, but knowing the longer they are in the safety of their refuges, the better their chance of surviving. They will have limited food and water and know that sooner or later they will have to climb out and hope and pray that the fallout levels have fallen to survivable levels. I’m sure all over the world, these little pockets of survivors are supporting one another and helping each other through these dark times. We’ve got to do the same.”

Flynn nodded. Morrison’s comments seemed of little comfort to him. I glanced over at Karpov, who remained silent and wondered why Morrison’s pep talk hadn’t come from the big Russian.