In The Time Of Dying

IN THE TIME OF DYING

By

Kristine Williams

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

IN THE TIME OF DYING

Smashwords Edition.

© 2009 by Kristine Williams. All rights reserved.

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In The Time Of Dying

We've got another one, doctor.

I'll be right there. Nurse, please check on number 714, would you? He's having trouble getting to his feet.

Yes, doctor.

Ethan turned his head, trying to tune in to the voices penetrating the darkness. He licked dry lips, then felt fingers pressing into the corners of his eyes. A moment later he realized they were his fingers, then remembered he'd been trying to make parts of himself move for what seemed like hours now, but it must have been a dream.

Slowly, he pushed open both eyes and blinked the stark, white cryo room into focus. There were voices everywhere now, doctors and nurses, mixed with tired moans and varied complaints.

Ethan forced himself up, swinging his bare legs over the edge of the hard bed as he pulled leads and sensors off his chest.

Welcome back to the land of the conscious.

Unable to look up at the moment, Ethan nodded to the white shoes now standing beside him. Two hands came into view, holding a scanner.

Name, rank, call sign and serial number please, if you don't mind. A voice requested from somewhere above his head.

Griff, Ethan J., Major, call sign Ghost, Ethan replied. He had to clear his throat to continue. Serial number A19 dash 58 point 3. He rubbed the back of his neck then forced his head up a bit, finally able to see more of the doctor taking his readings.

Excellent, Major Griff he replied, tapping data into the screen. You are officially awake. The doctor glanced at him and smiled, then accepted a pan from a passing nurse and handed it to him.

What's--

Ethan suddenly retched into the pan.

You Marines are all the same. Is it some sort of ritual with you?

He nodded once, then had to spit several times into the pan. You mean get slamming drunk the night before a sleep jump?

It's tradition, doc! Someone called from the next bed over.

Ethan would have looked up to see who it was, but his stomach had his full attention again.

Well, simper-fi, the doctor huffed. You report for duty in four hours, Major. I suggest a hot shower and meal, when you feel you can hold one.

Oh God. He retched again, but it was mostly just spit now. The rules were, you went into cryosleep on an empty stomach, but well hydrated. To the civilians, that meant loading up on water and restorative drinks to maintain the body's chemical and nutrient balance. It didn't matter all that much during the long, cold nap, but it made waking up much kinder on the body.

To a Marine, it meant a full night of as much rum, whisky or vodka you could handle and still manage to walk to the cryocenter. It made the sleeping easier to handle, the dreams much more interesting, but the waking up, not so much.

Finally, Ethan convinced his stomach muscles he was eternally repentant for the abuse, and they calmed down long enough for him to get to his feet and leave the pan behind. He started down the line of beds toward the showers and glanced around to see who was up.

All of the Navy beds were empty, and the Science contingent were mostly sitting up or shifting around now. He estimated about half of his squad were still lying down.

Is the Colonel up yet? he asked a passing nurse.

She checked her scanner and nodded. Yes, he was one of the first, along with Captain Marshall and his Naval officers.

Ethan sighed and continued on to the showers. There were soldiers milling about, still trying to shake off the effects and clear the cobwebs. The towel dispenser offered him a toothbrush and paste, which he took to the row of sinks.

As he was spitting out the last hint of old rum and bad ideas, Lieutenant Wilson came out of the showers, wrapped in a towel.

Major, good to see you awake, sir.

Ethan nodded and pushed the toothbrush through the incinerator. Wilson, is the whole squad up?

Just about, she replied. The squids were first to go, but our guys are catching up.

Well, it's their ship, Lieutenant. They don't need us till we touch dirt and things get dangerous.

She laughed. That's for damn sure, Major.

Ethan took his towel and found an empty space along the shower wall. With the spray on heavy, he stood directly underneath the water and let the pounding heat work its magic.

He hated sleep jumps. Drunk or sober, he'd always had trouble waking up. Some people took to it, some didn't, and he hated the fact that he was one of the latter. Colonel Patterson would already be on duty, taking charge of the situation -- or in this case, arguing with Captain Marshall about when their commands would exchange priority. Patterson wouldn't jump into action before his second-in-command was at his side, but knowing he was potentially holding everyone up never really set right.

Last jump, Ethan muttered.

Everyone knew this was their last sleep jump assignment, but no one really wanted to talk about it. Earth was in dire straits, and this new world was their last chance.

Did you hear?

Ethan started, then blinked at a soldier standing under the spray of the next shower over. What?

The rumors, the corporal replied. We're not at 581c. The computers landed us somewhere uncharted.

Ethan blinked again and ran a hand over his face, pushing the water away. Who said that?

The corporal shrugged. It's just what I'm hearing in the hallways, nothing official yet.

Shit. Ethan cleaned off quickly, then grabbed his towel and headed for the lockers.

Getting dressed didn't take long, since the lockers only held their ship clothes, no combat gear or dress uniforms. Marines were only allowed a sidearm onboard the Navy vessels, unless otherwise ordered by the Captain or Commander in charge.

The Solaria was Navy territory. Ethan didn't mind that one bit. He was a Marine, after all, but the rivalry kept things interesting.

As he made his way through the corridors Ethan noticed amber lights flashing at every intersection. There were no ship wide alarms going off, but every crewman he passed seemed to be on a mission, and the few members of the science team he saw awake looked grim-faced and somber. Not exactly the attitude he expected to wake up to.

He found the lift that would shoot straight to the bridge deck without stops and got on, along with an Ensign who tapped her stylus nervously against the screen she was holding.

Major, she nodded.

Ensign.

The doors closed and the lift started up without a sound other than the tapping, which seemed to increase as the ride progressed upward.

Is there anything I should know about our landing? Ethan asked as casually as he could.

The Ensign started, then smiled nervously and shook her head. Not that I am aware of, sir.

But we have landed, yes? he asked.

She nodded, but her eyes were wide with uncertainty. The Solaria is safely on the ground, sir. Yes, sir.

Ethan sighed, and would have pressed further, but the lift came to a stop and the doors opened onto a chaotic scene of barking orders and flashing screens.

Navy personnel were frantically calling up diagnostic reports and demanding status checks, while a group of white-coated scientists stood huddled in the far corner, scratching their heads and pointing now and again. The enlisted crew on the bridge hurried from one officer to another, nodding and doing their jobs, but with a look of bewilderment that Ethan found very off putting.

This wasn't the orderly following of routine that should follow a landing, even a landing on a completely alien planet. They'd come here with a purpose, and a mission. There were procedures to follow to secure the landing, then recon the new world and verify the atmosphere and general viability already established by advanced probes.

It was new, and yes, an air of desperation was expected -- this was, after all, the future of the human race they were talking about. But something wasn't right.

Ethan found Colonel Patterson standing off to the left, alongside Captain Marshall. As he approached, he offered up a salute, but it was for the Captain's benefit. Colonel John G. Patterson was of the opinion that -- so long as everyone knew what direction shit rolled, and where they stood relative to it -- the rest was useless formality.

Griff, you're up, Colonel Patterson said with a nod.

Sir, Ethan replied.

Colonel Patterson raised an eyebrow toward Captain Marshall, but directed his voice at Ethan. Things have been getting interesting up here this past hour.

I'm glad someone thinks so, Marshall quipped. He glared at Ethan a moment, then turned his attention on his own crew. "Do we have those readings yet, Commander?"

Sir! They're just coming through now, Commander Ellis replied quickly.

It seems we're not where we're supposed to be, Patterson continued, looking at Ethan. We came out of that last jump point and something happened -- our esteemed Captain Marshall hasn't figured out exactly what yet -- but the computers found us a planet and took it upon themselves to plant us here.

Ethan blinked.

This ship did exactly as it was programmed to do, Marshall retorted. Maybe you'd be happier keeping your Marines company, Colonel, and leaving the Navy in charge until we can sort things out.

Patterson grunted, then put a hand on Ethan's shoulder and turned him around. Come on, Major, we'll leave the ladies to their computers. We'll be needed soon enough.

Ethan walked back to the lift, warning two lieutenants away with a glance as he and the Colonel stepped into the small space. As soon as the doors closed and they were alone, he turned to his commander.

What the hell happened, John?

Near as I can tell, they fucked up, Patterson replied. Damn computers are given too damn much responsibility, you ask me.

The computers?

We came out of the last jump, and apparently the engines on this worthless boat failed to recharge.

We missed the final jump?

Patterson nodded. We missed the final jump.

God. Ethan's mind was scrambling to catch up and work out the ramifications. But we landed.

Oh, we landed all right, Patterson replied as the lift doors opened. But the devil knows where. He started down the corridor with a purposeful stride. The almighty ship computers found a habitable planet within reach of the failing drive and landed us on it.

But the fleet, they're--

That's right, Griff, they're four months behind us and closing fast. He let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his eyes. Have you eaten yet, Major?

Ethan shook his head absently. They'd landed. That meant wherever the hell they were, this was it. Good, bad or ugly, this was where they were gonna live, or die trying.

I figured as much. The colonel slapped Ethan's shoulder and shoved him through an open doorway into the main galley. Let's make ourselves useful while we wait for word from our esteemed naval hosts.

The galley was filling up, mostly with Marines recently returned to consciousness waiting to be given the word to open up their battle gear and get to work. They were all visibly relieved to see their commanding officer and second in command walk in and take seats along the far wall.

Almost immediately, two corporal's hurried over with trays and hot food, the smell of which was less than happily received by Ethan's stomach.

Is it true that we've landed, sir? One asked while the other stood by nervously shifting from one foot to the other.

We have, corporal, Ethan replied.

Yes, we have landed. Colonel Patterson raised his voice so everyone in the galley could hear, even those who might not want to. But we're not where we're supposed to be.

An instant hush fell over the galley. Even the petty officers serving food stopped what they were doing and focused on the colonel.

The navy are still trying to figure out what exactly happened, and where we are. But we're not on 581c, that much we know. Colonel Patterson took a deep breath. We are, however, on a habitable planet, according to the computers.

Ethan knew no one would have the nerve to shout out a question, but they all knew their commander well enough to know they wouldn't have to. Colonel Patterson took a drink of his coffee and sat back, gazing out over the collective Marines.

It appears when we came out of the last jump, this ship's engines failed to recharge, so we didn't make the final jump to 581c. Once they computed we were trapped in this sector, they took it upon themselves to locate another world, rather than wake anyone up who might make other plans.

He paused long enough to accommodate the laughter, then continued.

Whatever planet it found, it landed us there. Now we wait until the bluecoats admit we're aground and let the real men take charge, then we'll get some answers.

What about the fleet, sir? Sergeant Collins asked. Do we know how much time was spent searching for this world?

Not yet, Patterson huffed. Near as they can figure, the fleet is still a good four months behind us. That gives us four months to determine the viability of this world in comparison to planet 581c. If we can determine the human race stands a better chance here, we'll divert the fleet when they drop out of the last jump, before they can go forward.

So we're stuck here, then, with no hope of ever leaving no matter what?

Ethan tried to find the face that went with the question, but the soldier who'd voiced it was effectively lost in a tightly packed crowd at one of the tables, so he addressed the answer in their general direction, for the benefit of everyone.

Wherever we are, this is home. Now the computers wouldn't have landed the ship unless this planet was livable, so obviously it is. The rest is up to us.

The colonel picked up the sandwich on his tray and started eating, effectively ending the conversation.

We'll get it sorted out, Ethan assured them. In the meantime, check your gear, inspect the weapons cargo and equipment and hit the gyms. When we get the order, I want everyone fully thawed out and ready for anything.

Beside him, Patterson chuckled.

You fully thawed out yet, Griff?

Ethan replied. You know I don't freeze well, sir. He picked up a grape and ate it, testing his stomach's sea legs. Technically I don't thaw well, I guess.

Patterson chuckled. Not enough booze before hand. Works like a charm for me every time.

The grape stayed down, but before Ethan could try another, his com link buzzed inside his shirt pocket. He pulled it out and slid the receiver open, reading the message that flashed over the ultra thin screen.

Command staff meeting in the Captain's office in five, he read aloud to the Colonel.

About damn time. He swallowed the last of his coffee in one mouthful. Let's go.

Ethan pushed his tray aside and got up, trying not to think about the coffee that his body just that moment decided it was craving. There'd be coffee in the meeting, no doubt. He just prayed that didn't suddenly wake his stomach and interrupt the meeting.

All eyes were on them as they left the galley, but they had their orders. Ethan followed the colonel back to the lift, where they were joined by two ensigns loaded down with full canisters of hot coffee and disposable cups. He had to resist the urge to help himself before they were brought in to the meeting, but he made sure the ensigns went into the large conference room just ahead of him.

The conference room could hold thirty people comfortably seated, with a large screen at the head of the room and individual monitors at every other seat, displaying the same information. Right now, it was crammed with the command staff of both the Navy and Marines, as well as the science and engineering contingent.

Captain Marshall sat at the head of the table, with Colonel Patterson on his right, and Doctor Theron to his left. Everyone else sat wherever they could find space and spread reams and reams of data prints around the large table.

Captain Marshall stood and cleared his throat. All right, let's get this started. He turned to Doctor Theron and gave a nod. Doctor, if you would.

Yes, right, very good, Doctor Theron said as he stood. He, too, cleared his throat first, then wiped his palms on his shirt and stepped around his seat and over to the large screen. Okay, so, I'll just quickly go over what we know. The Solaria has indeed landed on a world the sensors detected as viable to sustain human existence, but we are off course and not on Gliese 581c as planned. Or even close, for that matter.

How close is not even close, exactly? Colonel Patterson asked.

Well, since we failed to take the last jump into light speed, for the last leg of our intended journey, I'd have to say we're -- by standard drive engines -- just over five light years away.

So why couldn't we make the last jump? Ethan asked.

At first, we believed the issue was in our recharge units, Chief Engineer Balcon volunteered. But that turns out not to be the case. We've found evidence of several small explosions in the drive control center, the cause is unknown but we're thinking there must have been a failed coupling that overheated.

Why didn't the backup kick in? Patterson asked. Or the backup to the backup? Or the one backing that one up?

Silence fell over the crowded room, and Ethan braced himself for the inevitable boom that was about to emanate from somewhere deep inside the colonel's chest.

What the fuck, people! Patterson punctuated his powerful voice with a fist to the table. You build these systems knowing things are going to break, for Christ's sake. What the hell happened?

Well, Patterson, when I know that, you'll know that, Balcon quipped. As it stands, it's all moot, really. We've landed, and there's nothing we can do to change that now.

Gentlemen, please, Doctor Theron held up both hands. There's time to figure that all out, I assure you. We're certainly in no danger of losing the ship. He glanced at Captain Marshall for verification.

No, of course not. The Solaria landed safely and sensors aren't showing any environmental dangers in our direct vicinity. He huffed and tugged at his shirt. My ship can provide safe shelter and a source of power for several years. Longer, if we ration.

Are you suggesting we can't colonize this planet? Ethan asked, glancing from the ship's captain to Doctor Theron. We've landed on a habitable world, correct?

Yes, Major Griff, thank you, Theron nodded. He wiped some sweat from his face and took a breath. That's exactly right. We've sampled the atmosphere and tested for bacterial and viral dangers. So far, they all fall within tolerable human norms. It's still night, so we don't have much visual information, but sensors tell us we're on flat land, with grasses, and there seems to be a forest to our . . . We'll, we're calling North the direction the bow of the ship is pointing, for now.

Ethan caught a glance from Colonel Patterson, who rolled his eyes at his second, then turned his attention back to the doctor.

Now, again, as you all know, the Solaria left Earth exactly fifteen years ago. While we slept, the ship was to make five individual jumps into light speed, reaching Gliese 581c in twenty point five years. He paused to turn on the screen behind him, displaying an image of space that gave him reason to turn away from all the direct stares. So, within a year of our departure, the rest of the fleet also launched, to follow us to our new world. We can assume, by now, that Earth is no longer capable of sustaining human life in any great numbers. Those few who elected to remain behind may, or may not, still be alive.

Yes, yes, that's all history now, doctor, Captain Marshall sighed. Can we get on with it, please?

Theron cleared his throat, but kept his attention focused on the screen. So when the ship malfunctioned during the last drop out of light speed, the onboard computers searched for the nearest reachable planet that could sustain life, and landed us here.

Why wasn't this planet found earlier, when they were sending probes out to 581c? someone asked from the back.

Space is vast, Kevin, you know that, Theron replied. We probably would have found this world, if we'd had years more time. As it was, we were lucky to find 581c and get enough probe data back to send our fleet out. We have to assume our forefathers simply didn't see this one, and chose to focus all of their attention on 581c because it was the most viable of all the worlds they did probe.

Okay, so we're here, Patterson said. What do we know, and what do we need to know before my Marines can secure the area?

It's still night, as I said, Theron replied. But the temperature seems to be holding steady at 47 degrees Fahrenheit, the air is an Earth blend, and the only signs of life appear to be insects and small animals at this point. There's no moon in the sky, so it's nearly impossible to see without night vision, but we've been on the ground now for just over eighteen hours.

That doesn't matter much if we don't know the size of this planet, Doctor Keller offered up from Ethan's right. A typical night cycle here could last hours, days, or even weeks in comparison to Earth. But, She held up some papers. We're taking readings of the stars, and should have a good estimate very soon.

Reading the stars? Patterson leaned forward. Why aren't you sending up probes? Get a few satellites in the sky and take a decent look around.

Well, sir, we -- that is --

They've failed to launch, Marshall interjected, saving the woman the brunt of the colonel's glare. Hopefully that's something that can be repaired.

What the hell, Marshall! Does anything on this boat work the way it was designed to?

Ethan cringed inwardly for the captain's sake, but he'd have done the same if he had the rank to pull it off in front of this many people.

We're working on the probes, Colonel, Chief Balcon replied hotly. I suppose the Marines can be counted on to never make a single mistake.

Not where the lives of four thousand people are at stake! Patterson shot back. Not to mention a fleet carrying the rest of the human race!

Are you suggesting every ship we have is going to break down? Balcon shouted. Dammit, Patterson, unless this was sabotage there's no reason to believe that!

Suddenly the room erupted into angry shouts, heated accusations and lots of confusion. Colonel Patterson and Captain Marshall were exchanging looks that went well beyond military pissing contest, and the scientists and engineers each believed the other contingent to be completely at fault.

Gentlemen, please! Ethan stood as he shouted and the room fell silent. Four thousand people have just landed on an alien world, with no hope of ever going home. He directed a stern look around the table, commanding their attention with a steady voice. They're all counting on us working together to assure their safety and continued well being. Laying blame is for politicians, and unless I'm mistaken, they're all on the final fleet ship, a solid year behind us.

There were nods, shrugs, and more than a few down-turned faces as calm won out over the confused shouting. Ethan sat back down and received a nod of approval from Patterson. He hated that so often he had to be the voice of reason, when he was just as angry and fired up as anyone, but the colonel depended on him to fill that role, and he knew he was good at it.

All right, well, to continue, Doctor Theron pointed to the screen again. We can see a forest to our -- what we're calling North -- and to the south is a very large body of water. East and West is open country for a few miles, then it appears the forest begins again. Our ship managed to find a very convenient landing zone, assuming that's potable water. We'll know that as soon as we can obtain a sample.

In an attempt to look on the bright side, for a change, Captain Marshall interjected. There is the distinct possibility that this new world is better than 581c. As we know, Giese 581c is prone to severe earthquakes, and we were unable to determine how much of its fresh water is in liquid form. Also, soil samples proved it would be possible, but not easy, to grow our crops there. So if this world shows marked improvement, we'll have an opportunity -- in four month's time -- to send word to the fleet as they drop out for cooling, before making the final jump. They could divert here, and we could establish our new Earth on this world.

In the meantime we have samples to study, Theron added. And as soon as we can figure out when the sun rises on this world, we can take a better look around.

And if that doesn’t happen for a while? Ethan asked.

Marines aren't afraid of the dark. Colonel Patterson's reply was directed at the rest of the room. He stood, nodding to Ethan. When you're ready for us to go out there and really explore this planet, let me know. He picked up a bundle of papers that had been placed in front of him, and started for the door. I suggest we all get used to calling this place home, like it or not.

Ethan followed him out and the rest of the meeting seemed to break up, each contingent moving off to continue their fact-finding, and probably name calling and blame laying, but so long as they did that on their own time, he didn't care. Nothing undermined a mission more than rumors and gossip, except maybe backstabbing.

He followed the colonel to the small personal space he'd been assigned, across the hall from Captain Marshall's quarters. Ethan shared a smaller room with his Navy counterpart, Commander Ellis, while the rest of the crew would bunk on the cryo beds they'd traveled in. Every spare inch of the Solaria that wasn't part of the ship herself had been crammed full of equipment, weapons and food stores. Enough to keep four thousand humans alive for ten years, with the assumption that they could make their new world sustain their needs within that time frame.

If not, then the only hope for the future of mankind would rest on those who had refused to leave Earth, believing her depleted resources could be resuscitated.

Colonel Patterson went straight for the small liquor cabinet beside his fold-down desk and pulled out a bottle of amber liquid.

Drink?

Oh, God no, Ethan replied with a shake of his head.

Patterson laughed, then poured himself a small glass and sat on the desk and took a drink, swallowing it with a sigh of satisfaction.

Ethan perched on the bunk, with was the only other seat in the cramped space.

How long have you been with me, Griff? Six, seven years?

Ten years, sir, Ethan replied. Ten years and two ranks.

Damn, Patterson shook his head. There's no one else I'd have at my side, especially at a time like this. He raised his glass in salute and finished the contents in one swallow.

Thank you, sir.

You'd follow me into hell, wouldn't you, Griff?

Ethan laughed shortly, then lifted one shoulder. Hell, sir? Well, I might pause at the gates. Never was one for the hot temperatures.

Patterson laughed heartily. Fair enough. He sighed, then shook his head and waved the papers in his hand. Well we're in it now, sure enough. The papers were slapped unceremoniously on what little desk surface that wasn't covered by the colonel. Damn computers. Would it have been to much to ask they wake a few people up before making a decision like this on their own?

Ethan shook his head. He didn't want to consider the idea that they very well could be the victims of sabotage, but he knew the colonel was mulling that thought himself. So we're still four months ahead of the fleet?

Apparently so, he replied. Doesn't really figure right, though, does it?

No, it doesn't, Ethan replied. He shifted on the bunk and leaned back against the wall as he gave the matter some much needed thought. We were scheduled to be landed on 581c four months ahead of the next ship in the fleet, but if we dropped out of light speed to recharge, then failed to reenter as scheduled, the Solaria had to find this world, travel to it and land. He glanced at the colonel, who was nodding. If we're still four months ahead of the fleet, then this planet wasn't more than a two, maybe three month flight from the navigated jump point, depending on how long the computers took to determine we couldn't jump again.

Which means a viable planet along our intended route went unseen and unexplored, Patterson agreed. Or, we take the other approach, and assume it took this ship six months to find this world, putting it further out from the planned route -- easier to overlook, but it puts the fleet already beyond our communication range. They probably made the jump by now and on course to land on 581c. Only we won't be there.

Ethan rubbed his eyes, then heard his stomach growl loudly, clearly not satisfied with a single grape and cup of coffee after fifteen years of sleep.

You should take care of that, Patterson replied with a grin. We'll figure this out soon enough, go get something to eat and see what the squad is up to.

Yes, sir. Ethan stood with a sigh.

There's nothing we can do about the fleet if they're already passed us, Griff. But if we can contact them, and diverting all of the ships here is our better option, we'll make damn sure that happens.

Ethan nodded, then left the colonel to go find some lunch. He didn't want to think about it any more, at least not until some of it had a chance to sink in. They all knew leaving Earth was a permanent decision, and they were going to be colonizing an alien world. But when they'd gone to sleep after launch, they'd had a completely different alien world in mind.

He made his way back to the galley and ate just enough to quiet his stomach while fielding questions he didn't have any answers to, then went to the weapons storage area and equipment rooms to check on their stock and make sure his people were staying occupied.

The majority of their stock was for security against any alien threats, exploration of the landing site and vicinity, and securing the intended colony area. They had emergency shelters, plenty of food, and enough weapons, ammunition and communications gear to keep them alive a full year without help or added fleet ships.

When he'd run out of things to keep himself busy, Ethan went to the tiny room he shared with Commander Ellis. It was a cramped space, with two lockers and two bunks stacked one above the other. Neither of them had used the cabin yet, since the entire crew entered cryogenic sleep within hours of launch, so Ethan took the top bunk.

He didn't bother getting out of his clothes, since he knew he wouldn't really get any sleep, but he left his boots on the floor and set his sidearm in the locker before climbing up. Loosening his shirt, he pulled a folded photograph out of his pocket and looked at the woman's face.

Your wife?

Ethan glanced at Commander Ellis as he entered the cramped space. My twin sister. She's a science officer on the first fleet ship.

My wife's onboard the third ship, with our sons, Ellis replied. She could have taken assignment on the Solaria, but we thought one of us should ride with the kids.

It's good she did, Ethan replied. He folded the picture and slipped it back in his pocket. Kathryn and I are the only family we have. He shifted, stuffing the pillow behind his shoulders so he could sit up slightly. How many kids?

Four, Ellis replied with a wide smile.

Four?

He nodded. We got a permit, since both of my brothers were sterilized. Good thing, now that we're colonizing. So your parents . . .?

Ethan shook his head. We lived in Alaska, he replied. Our parents were killed in the big quake of '98. Kathryn and I would have been, too, if we hadn't been spending that summer on our uncle's cloud seeder. He frowned at the memory. We saw it, from low orbit. You could see the earth just open up, swallow the town, then closed back up as if nothing ever happened.

God, Ellis shuddered. So your sister, if we don't divert the fleet, she'll--

She'll continue our line without me, Ethan interjected quickly. My only regret is that she may never know what happened to us, but I can die knowing she got there, and lived a happy life.

We have to believe that, Ellis dropped down onto the lower bunk. I don't see how we're expected to sleep. We just spent fifteen years in deep freeze.

That's not really sleep, Ethan said with a shrug.

Still, I don't think I like it. That was my first. What's it for you?

Ethan took a breath as he counted back. Third time for me.

Third? Shit, how old are you, then?

He had to count again, and glance at his watch. Technically, thirty two, but I was born eighty six years ago.

Holy Christ, Ellis breathed. So, your twin . . . I'm confused.

She's the same age, Ethan laughed shortly. As it happens, she was assigned each ship I slept on, too.

Oh, right, science officer, you said?

That's right.

They fell silent, listening to the deep throbbing of the ships life support systems. Ethan checked his watch. On Earth, it was just after midnight, and until they could establish a new time on this new world, the Solaria would abide by that. But Ellis was right. After a lengthy stint in cryosleep, it was nearly impossible to sleep again for some time, so it surprised Ethan that he was startled awake at the sound of his communication unit going off.

He pulled it from his pocket and unrolled the screen before it could chime a second alert.

Colonel, he replied to the image of Patterson on his screen.

We've got what we need to hit the dirt, Griff, the colonel replied curtly. Get the men suited up.

Chapter 2