The Malcontent of Mars — Chapter VI: Disintegration

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Somewhere, a klaxon was sounding.

Above him a voice was shouting, panicked. Uncontrollable fires. Hull damage. Depressurisation.

When Maxwell came to he realised he’d been thrown over a railing and was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. The room smelled of smoke. He sat up and winced. He’d broken one of his arms and one of his legs in the fall. Aeterna ran over to him.

“Maxwell, c’mon, we gotta go,” she was saying, frantically. Her cheeks were stained with mascara. She had been crying. But why?

“What happened?” Maxwell said, unable to get up.

“We’ve been hit,” Aeterna said. She was frightened. “Real bad. We need to get away.”

Maxwell found himself slowly returning to his senses. “Have you got the CALAIS?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“And the Asimov circuit?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Maxwell said. “Then we’ll take the Divine Hammer.”

“We’re trying to figure out how to get to the docking bay. A bunch of the main corridors have been…destroyed.”

“Understood. Get me some Nanocea in the meantime. I’ve broken some bones.”

Aeterna nodded. “They got us good,” she said.

“Yes,” Maxwell said. “But we’ve got the CALAIS.”

Aeterna nodded again, reassured. “The med-bay’s been destroyed,” she said, starting to cry again. “I’ll check around for any usable Nanocea.”

“Thank you,” Maxwell said, and Aeterna bent down and placed her lips on his, and for a moment the pain went away.

*

The blast doors came open and Kowalski almost fell through them. He was helped up by some soldiers. Immediately Christine ran over and put her arms around him. Joni stood off to his right, arms folded.

“Good work, Mister Kowalski,” Joni said.

“Least I could do,” Kowalski gasped. The air was like soup after a year of famine. His brain was flooded with every reward molecule it could squirt out of its synapses. He looked over at the hologram and saw the wreck of the Sledgehammer, smashed and crumpled like a used tin can.

“That bastard still has my ship,” Kowalski said. “If he’s still alive.”

“I destroyed it,” Christine said, with juvenile pride. “I…I used the guns!”

Kowalski looked at the innocent girl he’d accidentally run into a few days ago in some disbelief and nodded. “Good,” he said, uncertainly. “That’s good.”

Joni cleared their throat. “We can call in some transportation for you if that would be necessary.”

“That might be for the best,” Kowalski said. His legs felt like jelly and he struggled to steady himself against a damaged computer terminal.

“Perhaps you ought to lie down,” Joni said. “You’ve been through quite a lot.”

“No, no. Nothing I haven’t been through before. I’m fine. I just need—”

There was the unmistakable sound of the ansible ringing. Joni answered it.

“Yes?”

“This is the Rock Lobster. Requesting to land.”

“Negative,” Joni responded. “Our hangar is out of commission. Total depressurisation, over.”

“Roger.”

“I came in that way,” Kowalski said, taking the suit off. “If he lands on the surface, he can use my suit. Just guide him in through the hangar doors.”

“There’s not enough oxygen in those tanks.”

“Ask him if he has any. He’ll have to change them from inside his ship.”

Joni nodded. “Very good,” they said, and went over to the ansible to relay the message, as some soldiers helped Kowalski remove the suit.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Christine said, when they were finished. “I was so scared you’d die.”

“I’ve survived worse,” Kowalski said. “Listen, I’m going to get you back to Terra. You shouldn’t be out here. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.”

“No!” Christine said, suddenly. “There’s nothing for me back on Terra.”

“But your parents—”

“My parents are dead, Ralph.”

There was a long pause.

Kowalski shifted uneasily. “But you said—”

“I haven’t heard from my parents in ten years, Ralph. I know that I’m only seventeen. But I’m not stupid. I’ve been saying they’re ‘missing’ for God knows how long…maybe I was trying to fool myself a bit longer. Ralph—” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’ve forgotten what my mother’s face looks like. I’ve spent so long trying to remember. I don’t even know what my parents did for a living. I don’t know why they’re gone. But they are gone, Ralph. You’re all I’ve got now. Please don’t send me away.”

Kowalski looked down into her blue eyes and nodded. “Alright,” he said, quietly. “We’ll figure something out.”

Christine smiled. “Thanks, Ralph.”

“No problem,” Kowalski said, uncomfortably.

A panel in the wall exploded, showering the unlit corridor in sparks. At least part of the Sledgehammer’s interior was now exposed to the vacuum of space. The ship was slowly dying, falling to pieces in space. For a moment, Maxwell found himself thinking that this must be what it was like to be a noocyte, travelling through the veins of a dying man.

Maxwell’s arm was slung over Aeterna’s shoulders as he limped to the airlock where the Divine Hammer awaited him, a sleek retrofitted Terran cruiser, which had sustained only minor damage in the assault.

Jefrey locked the blast door behind them in an effort to pressurise the room.

“We need to get off this ship pretty soon,” he said, anxiously. He had seen a display of the extent of the damage on one of the very few still-functioning screens: The engines, bright red and overheating, catastrophically failing, slowly burning up. He knew what was to come.

They reached the airlock. Richards was already on board, initalising the take-off procedure. Aeterna stepped through the airlock, then Maxwell. Jefrey went to enter, and Maxwell turned to face him, looking down on him. Aeterna pulled out her sawn-off shotgun and pointed it at him.

“What?” Jefrey said, in disbelief.

Maxwell grimaced at him horribly.

“Don’t play dumb. You caused all this,” Maxwell said. “You didn’t install the Asimov circuit. You doomed this ship. Consider this your pink slip. You’re not coming with us.”

“Wait, no, Maxwell,” Jefrey said, desperately. “You need me!”

“The time for that has passed. You had your chance during the battle. You blew it.”

Jefrey looked like he was about to cry. “Maxwell, please!”

“Stop snivelling, you piece of shit,” Maxwell spat. “Get the fuck off my ship.”

“Nothing personal, Jefrey,” Aeterna said, slightly regretfully.

Jefrey stood in disbelief, unable to move. Aeterna stepped forward with the gun and shoved him back on to the doomed ship. Jefrey tried to board but was stopped by Aeterna, sealing the airlock door shut.

“Maxwell! Aeterna! Wait!” he yelped, banging his fists against the glass. Maxwell stepped away and Aeterna looked back at him, and then the blast door shut and they were gone. There was a vibration as the ship disconnected from the airlock and flew away.

He stared out into the bleak emptiness of space.

“No,” he whimpered.

The klaxon sounded again. There was a groaning sound somewhere in the ship.

*

There was a video feed of the surface of Cybele, and Mehmet had just been handed the tanks, when it happened.

The screen filled with an incredibly bright light, like a strip of magnesium burning up.

“What was that?” Christine exclaimed, fearfully.

“I think Mehmet must have damaged the ship’s engines,” Kowalski said. “I haven’t seen anything like that in years.”

He and Mehmet had both seen things like that happen very occasionally during the Insurrection. Terran command ships had a very poorly-designed ventilation system which, when damaged, would cause waste heat to build up. After a certain point the engine’s core would suffer a catastrophic failure, the release of energy being so great as to tear the ship and anyone unfortunate enough to be stuck on board apart at the atomic level – total disintegration. By the time the flaw had been discovered, most of the ships had already been built, and so the error was never corrected, relying on the powerful shields, the vigilance of the ships’ crews and the attention of Terran pilots to prevent the command ship engines from being damaged. It did happen, however. For every four or five Terran command ships that were quietly taken down, there was one whose engine suffered a catastrophic failure.

Mehmet had retreated into his ship and his voice came over the ansible: “Did you see that?!”

“Yeah,” Kowalski said. “I did.”

Kowalski knew that his ship had been attached to the Sledgehammer’s airlock, and the Sledgehammer had now been smashed, quite literally, to sundered quarks. His home for the last ten years was gone, and so, most likely, was Callie. A wave of sadness and anger washed over him.

“Shit, Kowalski,” Mehmet said, almost as though reading his mind. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Kowalski said. “At least that bastard’s dead.”

Joni looked at him a little uncomfortably.

There was a small bleep from across the room as the holographic table registered a new craft nearby.

“Uh, there’s something out there,” Caleb said. “Designation Alpha-Ait-Too-Too-Tree-Papa-Papa.”

Kowalski wheeled round.

“A8223PP? That’s my ship!”

“It looks like it somehow escaped the explosion,” Joni said, the squidcap back on their head. “It seems to be coming this way.”

“Is the pilot hostile?”

“Difficult to say. Readying defences just in case.”

The ansible sounded a tone, and Caleb walked over to answer it.

“Please state your intentions!” he said, loudly and clearly.

“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!” the man at the other end said. “Please!

“We’re not gonna shoot you,” Kowalski said. “As long as you can explain what you’re doing piloting my ship.”

“Maxwell – the engine – the ship was going to explode, I had to escape somehow…”

“What’s your name?”

“Jefrey, Jefrey Thompson,” the man replied. “I’m requesting permission to land.”

“Jefrey?” Christine said.

“Friend of yours?” Kowalski asked.

“No,” Christine said. “He’s a member of Maxwell’s gang. I saw him in London.”

“Really?” Kowalski said. “Interesting.”

“I’m not working for Maxwell,” Jefrey said, overhearing. “Not any more, anyway. He got away just before the ship went. Please hurry, I think there’s something wrong with the navigation system…”

“Callie was my navigation system,” Kowalski said. “So I’m assuming Maxwell ran off with her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jefrey said, desperately. “Whatever it is, I’m sorry. It wasn’t my fault—”

“You helped a very bad man kill some very good men, today. You nearly killed everyone on this asteroid without a second thought. And now you want our help?”

There was a pause.

“I…I was just doing what I was told.”

“That’s what they always say.”

Jefrey sighed.

“I know that Maxwell is not a good man. He left me for dead.”

“And what’s to stop us from doing the same?” Kowalski replied, coldly. “You don’t deserve it. You’re a coward.”

“I…” Jefrey said, trailing off. “I know. I know I’m a coward. I always have been. I want to make things right.”

“Then you’d better get your shit together and prove you can make amends.”

Jefrey paused again. “I have information. I can help you find Maxwell.”

“Hmm,” Kowalski said. “Give me one second.”

“Please hurr—”

Kowalski put the ansible on hold.

“He sounds terrified,” Christine said. “We should help him.”

“What if he’s bluffing?” Kowalski said. “Maxwell might have sent him here to finish us off.”

Christine shook her head. “No, no. I saw him in the elevator in London. He didn’t seem like that sort of man.”

“They never do,” Kowalski said. “Terrans can be like that.”

I’m a Terran!” Christine said, angrily. “For God’s sake, Ralph, listen to yourself.”

Kowalski scratched his chin a little. He sighed. “Alright. We’ll let him in.”

Christine nodded, satisfied.

Kowalski reopened the ansible connection. “Jefrey?”

There came a timid reply: “Yes?”

“I’m going to arrange for an escort to transfer you to Cybele. But let me make one thing real clear: If you try anything, even for a second, I’ll kill you. You got that?”

“R-right,” Jefrey said.

“Good. Please stand by for the escort. For the time being switch her into idling. There should be a panel somewhere to your right that lets you do that.”

“Roger. And thank you again, Mister—”

Kowalski. The name’s Kowalski. And don’t you forget it.”

~

Some repair workers had just been sent to fix the damaged LSS when Jefrey and Mehmet entered the war room, which was slowly turning back into Joni’s court after the end of hostilities. It was the first time Christine had ever seen Mehmet. He was not as tall as she had expected, with very short, shaven hair and a stubbly goatee, and an olive-skinned complexion.

Mehmet spoke to a couple of the soldiers. She couldn’t hear what he was saying but worked it out from context clues:

“You got anywhere to sleep?”

“Right this way, sir, and thank you again.”

He was led out.

She recognised Jefrey, also, who looked less twitchy than when she had seen him in London, and more withdrawn. Broken, almost. He was disheveled and looked as though he was about to collapse. His legs appeared to wobble as he walked into the room. He was wearing his glasses, but one of the lenses was cracked. He presumably hadn’t noticed or didn’t care.

“Th-thank you,” he stammered, on seeing Ralph, his hard, angry, stony features gazing at him piercingly.

“That’s what Martians do,” Ralph said. “We take care of people.”

“Yes,” Jefrey said, drawing his gaze downwards. “Of course.”

Two soldiers appeared and took Jefrey by the shoulders, and he was marched over to Joni to explain himself.

“Well, Mister Thompson,” Joni said, staring angrily. “Two of our men died today defending against your illegal assault on our sovereignty. Explain yourself.”

“We came here to recover something in the Martian’s possession,” Jefrey said. “We—”

Your Majesty,” a soldier corrected him.

“Yes, right – Your Majesty – sorry – the Martian – Kowalski – he tried to kill us – kill Maxwell – Maxwell’s our captain you see – and – er—”

“Mister Thompson,” Joni said. “We don’t care your reasoning for the attack. It sounds perverse to my ears either way. The fact is, you attacked a non-hostile colony without any warning, and attempted to kill the population. You have committed what is, by all accounts, an atrocity.”

Jefrey swallowed. “Maxwell, he told us—”

“He told you that we would shoot first, did he? And despite there being no indication of that fact, you proceeded to shoot anyway?”

“Maybe I’m not explaining myself clearly enough—”

“Who fired the torpedoes?”

“Pardon?”

“Who aboard your ship fired the torpedoes, Mister Thompson?”

“Well, it’s sort of a process—”

“Let me restate my question: Who pressed the button that fired the torpedoes?”

Jefrey swallowed again. “Th-that would be me.”

Joni sat back in their seat. “I’ve heard quite enough. It pains me to do something so barbaric, but Mister Thompson…I believe that I shall have to use my judicial powers to put you to death!”

Christine gasped.

Jefrey cried out in terror.

Ralph stood and watched silently. He said nothing.

“Mister Thompson, your crimes are as numerous as they are heinous,” Joni said, as levelled and firm as ever, but their body was shaking with rage and grief. “You must be punished.”

“Wait!” Christine exclaimed. “He wasn’t the one who planned the whole thing.”

“Please stay out of that which does not concern you, child,” Joni snapped.

“Don’t you dare call me a child!” Christine responded, almost bellowing. All eyes in the court were now upon her. Jefrey looked at her, fearfully. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” she said.

Unlike most of her apologies, it did not sound withdrawn or anxious, but firm and assertive. Her face went red with embarrassment, but she stood her ground.

Joni sat back in their chair and shook their head. “I do find it interesting that Mister Kowalski’s young charge barely a few hours ago was telling me that she believed the crew of the attacking vessel to be deserving of death, and now she steps forward and speaks in this man’s defense.”

“I never said I believe the crew deserve to die,” Christine said. Her heart was pounding in her throat. She felt sick. “I just think that Maxwell deserves to die – and when I couldn’t see Jefrey I suppose I believed he deserved it too – but surely you can see that he wasn’t the one who gave the order that killed Micah and Julius.”

Joni appeared pained by the reminder of the two dead men, their bodies currently being recovered from the rubble in the ruined hangar.

“Following orders made by a bad man is no different to being the bad man who gave the orders,” Joni said. “This man has committed a crime and he must be punished.”

“Does killing him make things right?”

“I don’t know. Does it?

Christine knew at once what Joni was implying.

“That’s different…”

“It is not. You said yourself you wanted this Maxwell fellow to die for crimes he has committed, crimes which I can only assume are similar in nature to the crimes committed by this man before us, but you insist that this man is deserving of life? You cannot have it both ways.”

“Maxwell has killed millions…”

“Millions to a single person. Murder is murder.”

Ralph stepped forward, begrudgingly. “Alright,” he said, reluctantly. “I agree with the kid. This man has information that can lead me to the real man behind all this. He’s the one we want.”

“Yes, that’s true, I do,” Jefrey said, hastily adding: “Your Majesty.”

“I’m sorry, Mister Kowalski, but we cannot allow this man to leave alive.”

Ralph exhaled. “Joni, you’re acting out of grief. You’re not thinking rationally.”

“How dare you—”

“Listen, I know you’re hurt over the loss of Micah and Julius,” Ralph said. “But if you kill him now, you lose that information. A petty act of revenge could lead to far worse death and destruction down the line. We’ve gotta compromise somewhere.”

“Yet, you too are vengeful, Mister Kowalski, are you not?” Joni spat. “You too believe in the doctrine of ‘an eye for an eye’, do you not?”

“I don’t like it either,” Ralph said, dismissively. “But I’ll make sure this man keeps his word.”

Jefrey clasped his hands together and made a sort of pleading gesture, his head bowed.

Joni sighed. “We are a Christian people, Mister Kowalski, but we must also harshly enforce our right to sovereignty in order to survive.”

Ralph stepped forward again and a soldier pointed a gun at him. “Step back from the sovereign!” the soldier barked, and Ralph obliged.

“Whatever happened to turning the other cheek?” Ralph asked. “And not casting the first stone? Are you so arrogant as to assume that you, too, are not a sinner?”

“That’s different.”

“It’s not,” Ralph said. “You know it’s not. Joni, if you kill this man, then you’re not proving anything to me except that you ain’t no leader. So tell me – what’s it gonna be?”

There was a long silence. Jefrey softly whimpered.

Joni sat back in their chair, and looked up at the ceiling.

“Well?” Ralph said.

“Alright,” Joni replied, quietly. “You’ve made your point. Yes, it is true. We – I – am hurting from the loss of Julius and Micah. They were like sons, brothers, to me. As are all my subjects. But we also agree with you that this man clearly wants to make amends, and to execute him summarily would be in contravention of the Lord’s own maxims.”

Jefrey breathed a sigh of relief, and Christine joined him.

“However,” Joni said, and Jefrey tensed up again. Joni turned their attention to Ralph. “You, Mister Kowalski, have brought death and destruction with you to this place. Two good men died today, because that man wanted something from you. Therefore we must ask you to take this man and leave, and never return.”

“Of course,” Ralph said.

Christine looked at Jefrey, who looked as though he was about to cry.

“We will give you a few hours to make your preparations,” Joni said. “Then you must go.”

Ralph nodded. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Joni nodded, with a slight smile. “Caleb, Malachi, please lead these men out. The child, also.”

*

The process of boarding the California Dreamin’ was complicated by the aftermath of the attack. Some repairs had been done to the navigation system and a few parts had been salvaged from around Cybele to help fix his and Mehmet’s ships. It had to be done in stages, each person being led out one by one wearing a spacesuit. Christine had struggled with the proposition at first, but was assured by Caleb that it would be safe, and he had accompanied her out. Only Kowalski was left to board.

“Mister Kowalski,” Joni said. “A word, please.”

Kowalski was in the process of having his suit fitted. Joni silently dismissed the helpers, who quickly vacated the court, leaving just Joni and Kowalski.

“We’d like to begin by saying that we are very pleased with how you handled the situation.”

“No problem,” Kowalski said. “It’s what I do.”

“Hm,” Joni replied. “We do apologise for asking you to leave so abruptly, Mister Kowalski, but you must understand that we cannot have men like you staying here. If you will pardon our saying so.”

“I understand. I’m sorry your men died because of me.”

“It is all part of God’s plan,” Joni said, sadly. “And God’s will is not for us to know.”

“Yeah,” Kowalski said, a little embarrassed of his agnosticism. “I suppose that’s true.”

“But we humans have been gifted free will, Mister Kowalski. We are free to choose our own paths in life. We can choose to sin. We are absolutely free. Do you see what I mean?”

“Not really,” Kowalski said, shifting uncomfortably in the spacesuit that was partially assembled around his legs.

“Mister Kowalski – I am saying that I can see the path you are treading. It is a dark one. Just then, when I announced my intention to have Mister Thompson executed, I knew what it was like to fall to petty, individual desires. To be unrelenting. To refuse to forgive.”

“Mm.”

“That child,” Joni said, staring into space as they remembered. “That child has already been corrupted by war. I was horrified to hear what she said about this man, Maxwell. That child cannot be older than eighteen years old. Where does it end?”

Kowalski looked at the ground, unable to answer. “Some of the stuff she was saying kinda disturbed me, too.”

“So what do we do?” Joni asked. “Do we continue down this path? Of vengeance? Of blood? It is an endless…chain. A chain that stretches on forever. A chain whose links are forged by every pointless death, every life struck down by blind, ugly, selfish violence. Atrocity after atrocity. We cannot wait for God to sort it out, Mister Kowalski. We are absolutely free. Do you see what I mean?”

“I think so,” Kowalski said, unsurely.

“Therefore,” Joni said. “We must break the chain.”

“Yes.”

“As long as that chain exists, the cycle of violence endures forever. It’s up to you to make the choice to break the chain, Mister Kowalski. Just a word of advice.”

Kowalski nodded, and bowed slightly. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Please,” Joni said. “Call me Joni.”

“Uh-huh,” Kowalski said, confused. “So, Joni, I guess this is goodbye, then.”

“Yes,” Joni said. “But we are ever in your debt, Mister Kowalski. And while officially I never want to see you again, part of me hopes that I one day do.”

Kowalski laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Be safe,” Joni said, and walked out of the room. Moments later, the members of Joni’s court ran back in and began to help Kowalski into the remainder of his suit.

Just as he was about to leave, Joni approached him again, clutching something in their hands. They handed it to Kowalski, who looked at it. It was a purple rose with white highlights. Joni’s Rose.

“The royal gardener sends her regards,” Joni said. “A token of our gratitude.”

Kowalski nodded. “Thank you.”

As he was led from the room, Kowalski stood outside, and waved a final goodbye to Joni, who with grace and dignity, gave a final curtsy to Kowalski, then disappeared back into the throne room, on their bare feet. Being led through the narrow corridors, Kowalski took time to reflect. It had only been a day, and yet he felt somehow changed. He was filled with a new resolve. He knew what he had to do next.

There was only one word on his mind as he climbed the ladder, up the tunnel, to the ship on the asteroid’s surface.

Callie.

“LSS nominal. Engines OK. Navigation system OK. Control system OK. Weapons offline. Communications OK. We are go for launch,” Mehmet reeled off, sleepily.

He had been rather rudely awakened with the news he was being unceremoniously kicked out of Cybele, although the soldiers had been ever so polite about the fact in spite of it. He was trying to stay awake despite his exhaustion after the assault on the Sledgehammer.

The engines roared, and the ship performed a vertical take off.

The ansible rang.

“How are you holding up?” Kowalski asked, as Mehmet yawned.

“I’m okay, buddy,” Mehmet replied. “Tired.”

“You and me both, pal. Should be able to get to Mars in a couple hours. You heading home?”

Mehmet thought about it for a moment. “No,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about our conversation on Luna.”

“Yeah. Sorry I got you mixed up in this.”

“Not your fault, buddy. I think if you hadn’t come to visit me, Maxwell would have found me anyway and killed me. So I was wrong. You visiting me actually…kind of saved my life.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Gotta believe it’s the will of Allah. Alhamdulillah.

“I suppose it is,” Kowalski said. “God. What a week.”

“You’re telling me, brother.”

“So where are you headed, if not home?”

“I’m sticking with you,” Mehmet said. “No way I’m leaving you now. We’ll get Callie back, inshallah.”

“Thanks, Mehmet,” Kowalski said. “For now, though, let’s get moving. We can catch some sleep at Tharsis Spaceport. Lock your position to mine and you can get some shut-eye.”

“Roger that,” Mehmet said, and the connection cut off.

Mehmet smiled a little to himself and shook his head. He unleashed a big yawn and stretched his arms out. “Let’s rock,” he said, locking his coordinates on to Kowalski’s ship.

With that, the two ships silently flew away from Cybele, and once again, that region of space knew peace.

*

Kowalski sat in the ship’s galley. Christine and Jefrey had long since gone to sleep. The ship’s autopilot, though damaged, would motivate the ship to its destination for the time it would take to get to the nearest warp-gate. The rose sat in a drinking glass filled with water, Kowalski having no vases in which to keep it.

On the turntable, a black vinyl record was turning: If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears by The Mamas and the Papas.

Kowalski realised how much he missed having someone to talk to. It was terribly lonely.

He found himself wandering up to the California Dreamin’s bridge, the eponymous song quietly echoing through the ship’s compartments. He walked over to the porthole and gazed out at the vast emptiness of space, distant asteroids zooming past the ship. Perhaps this was how the first men on Terra had felt while traversing the great seas, far away from home, from their families. It was a strange feeling.

After a while, Kowalski found himself laying down on one of the hard benches, ostensibly to rest his eyes, and when he had awoken the record’s first side was still spinning gently on the turntable. He switched it off.

“We’re coming to get you, Callie,” he said, quietly. “I promise. Hang in there.”

A small chirping came from his watch and he gazed down at it, and his vision was blurred at first, so he didn’t quite believe it. Of course. The watch. I forgot about the watch.

There were three words on the tiny screen, in pale green on black: 

SEE
YOU
SOON


Continues tomorrow…