A Step Beyond Read online

“I guess we can give him—” Nelson was interrupted by the loud blare of the ship’s siren. The sound caused both Nelson and Carter to jump. “Turn that damn thing off.”

  Carter hastily typed in the instructions to abort the alarm sequence. “We’ve got our plus three. Looks like it erupted only a few minutes after the computer had detected preflare activity.”

  “How long till impact?” Nelson asked.

  “Sixteen minutes.” Carter shoved a piece of gum into his mouth.

  “That doesn’t give us much time.” He switched the intercom back on. “Carl, you there?”

  Carter saw that the demand for water from the habitat module had stopped.

  “What was that racket all about?” Endicott replied, sounding out of breath.

  “A plus-three solar flare just erupted. We’ve got sixteen minutes till impact.”

  There was a tense moment of silence as Endicott considered this. “We have to move Jean Paul. But first, I’ll need to close the wound. He’ll never make it through the despin platform in his condition.”

  “Can’t you just tape it shut?”

  “Too risky. Besides, we wouldn’t save that much time. It’ll take ten minutes to close the wound. I’ll need your help though.”

  “Of course. But keep in mind that it’ll take at least five minutes to get him to the shelter. That doesn’t leave us with much time to spare.” Nelson switched the intercom off and turned to Carter. “I want you in the shelter.”

  Carter began to protest, but Nelson abruptly interrupted and ordered him to leave. As Carter departed through the portal, Nelson glanced at the monitor, which now prominently displayed the time remaining before impact. Fifteen minutes. A minute had already passed. Without further delay, he made for the habitat module, running as quickly as the tight confines of the ship permitted.

  When he arrived, he found Endicott tugging at a pair of surgical gloves. Brunnet was in bed, his eyes struggling to stay open. They closed moments later.

  “I gave him enough to keep him out for at least an hour,” Endicott said. “Let’s get him on the table. I’ll take the feet.”

  Nelson grabbed Brunnet under the arms, and at the count of three they picked him up. Because of the reduced gravity, the body did not weigh much more than that of a child’s. They placed him carefully on the table and opened his shirt. Endicott shook his head with concern as he removed the dressing.

  “I should drain it,” he said.

  “How long will that take?”

  “Four, five minutes.”

  Nelson glanced over at the main monitor in the habitat module. It was flashing eleven minutes. He realized that if they took the time to drain the wound, the flare would reach the ship before they could make it to the shelter. “Are you sure?”

  “The radiation shouldn’t reach hazardous levels until approximately twenty minutes after impact,” Endicott said. His voice was strained.

  “Perhaps we should check with the computer.”

  Endicott turned his back without responding and silently entered the relevant data. Activated by his strokes, a stream of stop-start bits pulsed down the fiber-optic cable to the central processing unit, where they initiated a series of parallel operations. An artificial-intelligence-based algorithm evaluated the various options. The resulting bit streams converged upon the output channel and emerged in yellow upon the screen.

  “It concurs,” Endicott said, secretly relieved the decision had been made for him. He opened a drawer that contained his medical instruments and pulled out a closed-suction catheter. “I need to sterilize this.”

  Nelson bit his lip as he glanced at the clock. Nine minutes. He placed his hand on Brunnet’s forehead. It felt warm.

  “I think he’s got a fever.”

  “Low-grade,” Endicott confirmed, without turning around. “Brought about by the infection. Nothing to worry about. It’s a common reaction.”

  The remark did little to comfort Nelson.

  Endicott returned to the body and inserted the catheter into the wound. A sickly reddish yellow substance crawled up the tube. “There we go,” Endicott said, holding the tube out at eye level so that he could examine the contents. He saw that his hand was shaking and quickly placed it at his side so that Nelson wouldn’t notice.

  But Nelson did notice. “You all right?”

  “I’ll be fine,” Endicott replied. He was angry with himself, and it showed in his voice. Their eyes met in hard silence. Endicott was only able to maintain the contact for a few seconds before he tore his eyes away. He looked back down at the open wound. Nelson was justified in his concern, and they both knew it. He had to concentrate. The next step was to cleanse the wound and treat it with an antiseptic.

  Carter’s voice sounded over the intercom. “The shelter is fully deployed. Only seven minutes remaining until impact.”

  Nelson looked questioningly at Endicott.

  “It’ll take at least ten.” He irrigated the wound with saline solution. He poured a small amount, then removed it, repeating the process until the effluent solution was clear. As he applied the antiseptic, he could feel his heart beating inside his chest. He bit down hard and started to breathe through his nose. When he was satisfied the entire area had been treated, he put aside the antiseptic and prepared the needle. It was shaking in his hand. He was horrified to see that it struck a spot nearly half an inch from the wound. He pulled the needle back out and tried again. This time it pierced the flesh very close to the intended target. “Hold the skin firmly together while I sew. Not too hard. Make certain the edges are not inverted.”

  Carter’s voice came booming over the intercom. “The hull sensor detects a ten percent increase in electromagnetic radiation. It’s starting. I’m listening to the particle detector. Sounds like goddamn rifle shots. Estimated ninety rads in the first half hour, three hundred and fifty in the first hour, and nearly one thousand in the second. Jesus, you guys better get moving.”

  “Over two hundred can be lethal. Anything under forty is relatively safe. We should be all right if we get out of here in the next few minutes,” Endicott said.

  “You’ve got one,” Nelson said.

  “I need three.”

  “Carter,” Nelson said, speaking into the intercom, “I want you to arrange a space for Jean Paul’s stretcher. His back is to face the sun. We’ll be out of here in three minutes.”

  “Roger,” Carter responded.

  “We’re almost done.”

  Nelson looked back over his shoulder at the console. “Estimated exposure, two-point-seven-six rems,” he said.

  Endicott wondered how much radiation Brunnet could bear as he swiftly wove the curved needle in and out of the skin. He used a square knot to tie off the suture.

  “Dressing,” he said.

  Nelson handed over an iodine-soaked gauze. Endicott placed it over the suture and taped it down. He dabbed alcohol at the outer edges of the dressing to remove the excess iodine.

  “I’m done,” he said, backing away from the body.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here,” Nelson said.

  “I’ll need a few things for postoperative care.”

  “You’ve got exactly ten seconds.”

  Endicott could still feel his heart beating against his chest. He threw an assortment of vials and hypodermics onto the stretcher. “Ready.”

  “Carter, we’re on our way,” Nelson announced into the intercom.

  “I’ll warm the coffee,” the intercom returned with a Southern drawl.

  Nelson grabbed the front of the stretcher and Endicott the back. As they plunged through the portal, they both looked up to check the console. ESTIMATED EXPOSURE: 13 REMS.

  Their jog quickly turned into a walk as they approached the center of the ship and were forced to correct for the shifting gravities of the extension. When they reached the hub, the transition between the rotating and stationary modules proved to be a challenge for the stretcher. Endicott went first. He stepped inside the despin platfor
m, where he allowed the centrifugal force to push him up against the outer wall. He reached back for the stretcher. He could see Nelson hoisting the body over his head. He grabbed the stretcher with one arm and after some difficulty placed it vertically alongside him. Nelson soon followed. Once Endicott was certain they were all safely in place, he punched the switch to stop the rotation of the platform. As it slowed down their bodies became lighter, and they floated into the center of the chamber. They were breathing hard.

  Nearly five minutes had passed since they had left the habitat module.

  They looked overhead and saw Carter waiting at the portal of the shelter. The console behind his head displayed an estimated exposure of thirty-six rems.

  A Solar Flare

  At the sun’s surface, twisting ribbons of electrical current and solar gas swirled into an emerging flux of magnetic tension and exploded. Streams of ultrafast electrons streaked outward from the explosion, accelerated by plasma waves cresting at speeds approaching that of light. Those particles that headed back toward the sun collided with the chromosphere and produced an even greater explosion. The resulting mixture of electromagnetic waves and ionized particles burned a deadly path through space.

  Both the American and Russian spacecraft were traveling directly through that path. Even in their storm shelters the crew members were not entirely safe. A few radioactive particles still made their way through the protective structure. Of the three thousand rads bombarding the ships in the first two hours, only fifty would make it through the American storm shelter, thirty through the Russians’. The surgical team, who had not been sheltered for the beginning of the flare, would absorb approximately one hundred rems. Although not lethal, one hundred rems was a substantial amount of radiation to absorb in such a short period of time. The astronauts would most likely suffer from radiation sickness.

  Major Vladimir Pavlov’s eyes were fixed on the radiation count. The estimated exposure was displayed for each cosmonaut. Every few minutes a counter would increase. His count was twenty-two. Although his wife’s count read the same, they both knew it should have probably been slightly less, since he was holding her in such a way that his body formed a shield against the radiation. She felt warm in his arms. There was nothing for them to do but watch and wait.

  “I wonder how Jean Paul is doing,” Tanya said. No one replied. Their thoughts focused hazily upon Brunnet as they watched the rem counter silently increase. They knew that each ionized particle that passed through their bodies left a wake of altered cells.

  “I wonder how Jean Paul is doing,” she persisted.

  Vladimir squeezed her hand, and she returned the warmth. His suspicions had nearly disappeared under the tender influence of her affection. The danger had brought them together. He did not fully understand why, but then he did not really care. All that mattered was that they were happy again.

  “I suppose we could contact them,” he offered.

  “No,” said Komarov.

  “Why not?”

  “It would not be appropriate.”

  “Why would it not be appropriate?”

  “If they need our assistance, they will contact us.”

  Vladimir thought about his commander’s response and decided not to pursue the point further even though he disagreed. Tanya, on the other hand, would not be put off so easily.

  “I think we should radio them,” she said.

  Dr. Takashi Satomura, who had nearly fallen asleep, perked up at the sound of the challenge. Without opening his eyes, he raised his head so that he might be able to hear better. He was

  seated next to Komarov.

  “No,” Komarov said in a low, firm voice.

  “What harm could it do?” she replied softly.

  Komarov looked up at the ceiling. “They will contact us when they are able.” He glanced at her hand clasped within Vladimir’s.

  Suddenly Tatiana understood. Dmitri was jealous, and he was trying to anger her. She started to speak, but checked herself. She did not want the others to hear what she had to say. After a moment of indecision, she stood up and walked over to the communications console.

  “I shall contact them myself,” she said.

  Komarov started to get up, but Satomura stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder.

  “It’s not worth it,” he said softly into his Komarov’s ear. “Let her be.”

  Dmitri Komarov knew he had gone too far. Lowering his head, he rubbed hard on the creases above his brow. He did not know why he had insisted upon waiting for the Liberty to contact them. He was angry with Tatiana, and he wanted to upset her. But he had allowed his anger to interfere with his judgment. He had given them reason to question his authority, and this now angered him even more. He closed his eyes so that the sight of Tatiana would not anger him further. He concentrated upon regaining his composure.

  “Druzhba to Liberty.” She spoke louder than usual.

  “This is Liberty, over,” Carter responded.

  “How is your patient?”

  “He’s sleepin’ like a baby. They got him to the shelter just in time. Although Doc here looks like he’s starting to glow. How’s the weather over there?”

  “Weather?” “Radiation count.”

  “We’re averaging about twenty-five rems.”

  “That’s better than us. I’m sitting at forty. The other guys are close to ninety.”

  “That’s high. Is there anything we can do?”

  “Negative. Looks like we’re just going to have to ride this one out.”

  “Good luck then.”

  She turned around to face the others. All eyes were upturned and looking at her.

  “He is doing fine,” she said. An ionized particle passed through her body.

  Endicott was beginning to feel nauseous, but he felt certain it was his nerves. It was still too soon to experience the effects of the radiation. He was checking the pulse of Brunnet, whose head was rolling back and forth on his shoulders as if the muscles in his neck had been severed. Brunnet’s eyes were open but blank. The drugs they had administered for the surgery were beginning to wear off.

  “Did you see that?” Carter asked excitedly.

  “See what?” Nelson asked.

  “There was a streak of light that just flashed across the room.”

  “Where?” Nelson asked, searching back and forth.

  “Right there. In the center. Right there,” Carter said, and pointed emphatically at the center of the shelter.

  Endicott held up his hand to stop the conversation.

  “That was radiation striking your retina,” he said wearily. Carter stood up and walked over to area where he saw the flash. Crouching down on his knees, he waved his hand cautiously through the air. He hesitated. He touched his eye, and then his chin, and then his eye again. He swiveled around slowly

  until he was facing the other astronauts, his left hand rubbing his eyes. With his free hand he reached into his pocket and pulled out another piece of gum. He added the gum to the growing collection in his mouth. He chewed for nearly a minute while he pondered the situation.

  “You’re shittin’ me,” he said.

  “I assure you, it is a common phenomenon,” Endicott replied, slightly annoyed that the American would doubt him.

  “Will it damage my eye?” Carter said with a halfhearted laugh.

  “Only time will tell.”

  “Carter,” Nelson said, “get back against the wall. Under the circumstances, we must observe every precaution.”

  Nelson’s commanding tone had a sobering effect on Carter. He obeyed immediately, pushing himself away from where he thought he had seen the flash of light. He returned to his designated position and placed his back against the shelter wall, where the muscles in his back provided protection to his internal organs. He turned his undivided attention to the rems displayed on the console above him.

  The next fifteen minutes passed in silence. The room filled with a stillness that settled into dark puddles aro
und the astronauts. Their thoughts focused upon the rem counter, which rippled orange against its black display. There were four names on the display, and under each name was a number. Every few minutes one of the four numbers would increase. And as it increased, each astronaut wondered what subtle changes had taken place in the cells of the body through which the ionized particles had just passed. They knew that many of the cells would die. And that others would be damaged. That some could grow several hundred times their normal size, while others could multiply uncontrollably and form cancerous growths. Some could mutate. Their chromosomes could break apart and fuse into genetically unsound structures, the effect of which would not be known until their children were born. They knew that many of the injured cells would release toxic substances into their bodies. Nausea, fits of vomiting, and diarrhea could result from the sudden influx of toxins. They knew that after several days their white blood cells could reduce drastically in number and that their immune system could collapse. Or that their blood could fail to clot and they could bleed to death from a paper slice. They knew that internal organs, such as the liver, could begin to function abnormally, setting off a series of near-fatal complications. And they knew if their exposure was high enough they would die.

  All of this could happen, and yet the radiation passed through their bodies without sensation. There was no physical discomfort. No piercing pain. No pins or needles. No hotness. No coldness. Not even the slightest of prickles. They felt nothing.

  Commander Nelson emerged from the silence with a fabricated smile. It was his duty to maintain the spirits of his men, and it was not until he had caught Endicott’s dejected look that he realized there was a need to do so.

  “Congratulations are in order,” he began. “Carl, you conducted yourself admirably. I will see that you receive due recognition for your actions.”

  “Well, thank you, but I really don’t . . .”

  “Nonsense, what you did back there was heroic. Most men would have fallen apart under the pressure.”

  “Sometimes one, willingly or not, has little choice but to rise to the occasion.” His tone was flat, without emotion. “I only hope that fewer occasions present themselves.”