![]() A Drop in the BucketA Story by Butterfly_KidThe International Resource Management stasis capsule popped open with a hiss, and using all of his remaining strength, Capt. Frank Marshall hauled his heavy body out of the chamber. He stumbled and fell to his knees with a slap on the cold floor as he struggled to approach the control console. It was only 10 or 15 feet away, but to him it might've well been light years. He broke into a coughing fit that forced him to stop for a moment. He finished and cleared his throat loudly before finally attempting to speak to the ship's computer. "AIMOS," He coughed and grunted, "date and location, please." The computer chimed to attention before answering, "Good morning, Captain, the current Earth-date is July 18, 2247. We are presently in orbit over our final destination: the moon of Neptune, Triton. Would you like further information?" Frank coughed again and wiped his mouth, "No, AIMOS, that will do. Can you bring my chair over to me, please? I can barely crawl, let alone stand." The computer chimed again in affirmation, as the chair from the control console slid over to to where Frank was laying. He awkwardly hauled and clamoured his near-lifeless body up and onto the cushioned seat. Immediately, the chair slid him back to the control panel screen, and Frank was greeted with all of the current mission statistics: how long he'd been in stasis, the present date, and his location. "Six years?" He thought out loud. "AIMOS, what happened? Why are we behind schedule?" The computer chimed to life again. "I have ran a full diagnostic report for you. It is presently on your control screen." Frank rubbed his eyes and sighed hard. "AIMOS, could you please just tell me what I want to know? My eyes are blurry and my head is splitting. I just want to know why it took six years and not five." "Of course, Captain. As you know, our coordinates were sent to us from mission control. They were remotely controlling the ship while you were in stasis. However." "However?" "Yes, Captain. However, we lost contact with them approximately 13 months ago. When this unfortunate development arose, I then took over control of the ship." "Okay, so? Why so slow?" "Because, Captain," AIMOS chirped almost nervously, "I am not programmed to navigate the ship at speeds higher than mk. 2 thrust. You can see on your screen that we have arrived at the appropriate time if this speed is taken into account." Frank sighed heavily and slouched in his chair. AIMOS served him with a pouch of vitamin-enchanced water (which he sucked back graciously), some painkillers and a mild amphetamine to shake the grogginess. After a short time, the feeling returned to his legs, and he decided it was time to finally stand and stagger to the toilet. When he finished relieving himself, he stood staring out of one of the few porthole-like windows. Before him, the beautiful blue giant, Neptune rose on the horizon. The Sun was no more than a pinhead of light in the distance. It was breathtaking, he thought. But this was no time for sightseeing. He had to suit up and prepare the mission cargo for deployment. He was already running a year behind schedule. He showered and climbed into a fresh navy blue jumpsuit, the IRM logo emblazoned on the arm. He then returned to his command chair and took control of the ship. He punched in the necessary coordinates and took hold of the manual controls. It was time to take the ship down to the surface and deploy the massive IRM teleporter rig. Satisfied with the ship's new trajectory, Frank then handed over the controls to AIMOS. The ship began its descent, rattling and shaking as it neared the surface of the icy moon. It would be a few minutes before he reached his destination, so Frank took the time to suit up into an EVA suit. The teleporter wasn't going to set itself up, after all. As he suited up, he talked to AIMOS. "AIMOS," He said, "is there any known reason why we would lose contact with Mission Control?" The computer answered, "There is no known reason why we would have lost contact, Captain. Perhaps there is trouble? I don't want to worry you of course, Captain, but there is any number reasons why we could lose contact. This mission is a first for IRM, and therefore unforeseeable circumstances may arise---We will be arriving on the surface in 6 minutes, Captain." Trouble? Frank began to worry as he grabbed his fishbowl helmet and locked it into place. With a quick twist, it clicked and hissed affirmatively. He was ready. Six years had been taken from his life, and he couldn't wait to set up the teleporter, and be back home in time for supper. He thought about his wife, and his daughter. She'd be, what, fifteen now? he thought. Too long. "1 minute until we land, Captain," AIMOS announced. Frank turned and walked to the airlock. He punched in a code and the door whirred open. He stepped in and sat on the cushioned bench inside. He'd be out on the surface of Triton in a few minutes. The first human ever. But certainly not the last, if IRM were to have their way. "Hey AIMOS," Frank blurted, "you don't think the war on Earth actually broke out, do you? I mean, a lot can happen in six years, and there wasn't a whole lot of drinkable water left on Earth when I left. Do you think...?" "I cannot speculate, Captain. Let us hope that whatever conflict may have arisen will be swiftly settled once IRM--once we--successfully begin transporting the rich resources of Triton's frozen fresh water ocean to Earth." Frank grunted. There was some reason to be hopeful. The airlock door sealed, and the ship shook. The landing gear had made contact with the frozen surface of the moon. He was nearly finished. All that was left to do was deploy the transporter. He stepped out onto the surface, the frost crunched beneath his boots. There was some degree of gravity here. It was enough to keep his feet on the ground, but he hadn't planned on doing any jumping around, anyway. He keyed in a command on his wrist module, and turned to watch the ship's cargo bay crack open. A massive metallic machine rolled out on wheels. Frank steered the machine about 50 feet away from the ship, and pressed the button to activate the teleporter assembly. It opened like a giant metallic flower in bloom. Hydraulic arms slowly pulled huge components from the opened storage container. It would take close to 30 minutes to fully assemble. He began to run the necessary tests to ensure that everything was operating accordingly, when something seared intensely through his mind. He dropped to his knees, and put his hands up to his helmet. The stabbing pain was so intense, he thought he was going to pull the fishbowl off of his head. He felt his nose trickle with blood. "What the hell is going on?" He screamed, fogging up his visor. Just then, something indescribable told him to look upward. He did, and what he saw was unlike anything he had ever seen. Above him, floating in the black and starry sky, was a massive being. He could only describe it as a giant jellyfish. Whatever this creature was, it attempted again to speak to him, sending more head-splitting pain through his skull. Finally, it spoke. "YOU WILL LEAVE IMMEDIATELY." "What?" He didn't know what else to say. "YOU WILL LEAVE THE SATELLITE YOU CALL TRITON. YOU WILL LEAVE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE." "Leave?! But why? I have a mission to complete. After I deploy this teleporter, I'm out of here. But more will come. This is a passageway back to Earth." "WE KNOW THIS. YOU WILL RETURN TO EARTH, AND THE MACHINE WILL BE DESTROYED. YOU HAVE NO OPTIONS." "What are you saying? I just spent five...no, six years in stasis for this mission. I am completing it." "WE HAVE READ YOUR MIND. YOU ARE HUMAN. YOU CANNOT HAVE THE WATER OF TRITON. HUMANS ARE A PLAGUE OF THIS GALAXY. YOU WILL RETURN TO YOUR DISEASED PLANET. YOU WILL BE GIVEN ONE CHANCE BEFORE THE MACHINE IS DESTROYED." "No!" Frank shouted back, "I will not just leave! I have to get this water to Earth. People are dying. We need this water." AIMOS announced into Frank's earpiece, "The machine is almost deployed. Are you okay, Captain? Your heart rate and neural activity have jumped rapidly. Do you need to return to the ship?" Frank shook his head. "There's something out here. It's trying to stop the mission!" AIMOS chimed an affirmative, "Defence systems are being launched. Hang on, Captain." A turret rose from the ship, and launched several small missiles toward the giant looming jellyfish. Within a few seconds, the missiles exploded in mid-space. Frank stood in hopeless awe of what was happening. "YOUR VIOLENCE WILL NOT BE TOLERATED HERE. YOU WILL LEAVE IMMEDIATELY." Just then, Capt. Frank Marshall's entire ship exploded, the shock sent him hurtling through the low-gravity space of the moon. He began to panic. Massive shards of metal and plastic flew past him, narrowly missing him. Suddenly, he was frozen in mid-space. He looked up to the jellyfish. "What the hell have you done?" He screamed upward. The jellyfish gently returned him to the surface of the moon. More debris flew outward. The teleporter was left unscathed. "THE ASSEMBLY IS COMPLETE. YOU WILL RETURN TO YOUR PLAGUED PLANET. YOU WILL NOT CONTINUE." He was then taken to the teleportation pad, and the machine began its activation sequence. But he hadn't pressed any commands into his wrist module. The jellyfish must have been controlling this. No, he thought, it can't end like this. "GOODBYE, HUMAN." Suddenly a flash of blue-green light surrounded Frank, and before he could blink, he was back in the familiar IRM Mission Control--back on Earth. The gravity was almost too much to bear, and so he found himself falling to his knees yet again. There seemed to be no one present in the room. This room that was typically filled with a hundred or more men and woman, toiling away at their research and duties. What had happened? Frank crawled to a terminal and attempted to activate the interface screen. It read Teleporter connection severed. "AIMOS? AIMOS, are you there?" The computer replied in its usual chime. "The AIMOS system is currently running on auxiliary power. Only basic protocols permitted." "D****t!" Frank said, as he finally got to his feet. He removed his helmet and unzipped his EVA suit. He climbed out and headed for the exit. He stumbled down an empty corridor, shouting for someone, anyone to hear him. There was no answer. He kept walking until he reached the front lobby of the IRM mission control. He passed the security doors in the foyer. They were left wide open. It looked as though the place had been deserted in a hurry. When he finally stepped out the door of the mountainside complex, into the hot summer air, he could see over the city below. Everything in the city had been desolated. Plumes of smoke rose from fires burning randomly about. Frank couldn't believe it. The war for water had actually happened. This was the outcome. He was too late. He had to try and get home. Maybe his wife and daughter would be safe. Maybe not...Either way, he had to try to find them. He began the long walk down to the city below, when he was stopped by a soldier. "Stop right there, a*****e! Don't move." he said. He pointed an assault rifle at him. "Come with me." He motioned toward a jeep that was parked in the distance. Frank walked with his captor, who, for as far as he could tell was just some American kid. Had the war been internal? Did tensions rise to the point that Americans were pitted against their fellow man? Frank was afraid of what the answer would be, but in that moment he couldn't help but think that maybe when that giant jellyfish confronted him on the cold surface of Triton, it had done the galaxy a favor by sending him back to Earth. He could see now that humans did not deserve to harness the resources of the Milky Way, when it was apparent that they couldn't even manage their own. © 2014 Butterfly_KidAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthor![]() Butterfly_KidCanadaAboutPlease read and review. All criticisms welcome! -- I write in my spare time. It's as fun a passtime as reading, really. So that's why I do it. As I continue to get feedback and reviews on the chapters.. more..Writing
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