Year Nine

Three thousand, one hundred and four: that is how many times I have watched the stars through this window. I chart their locations every morning. It has become a familiar ritual, like a form of meditation. In the short time I have sat here, our vessel travelled the distance between Earth and its sun several times over. Twenty-four hours from now the stars will all have shifted, though only slightly.

I hear a click and a hiss as the door behind me slides open. I swivel in my chair to face whomever has interrupted my solitude. It’s Ed Berkley, head of ship’s maintenance. He looks exhausted, even in the faint illumination provided by the emergency lights. “Com’s moved up the morning meeting. Hurry up so I can get to bed.”

Com is our pet name for Mission Commander Jeff Bright. At first we only called him that behind his back, but it has been years since we stood on protocol. I can’t remember the last time somebody called him Commander Bright.

I make my way across the darkened crew lounge, careful to avoid stumbling on furniture or stepping into any dead zones where the artificial gravity has cut out. I meet Ed at the door and follow him into the corridor.

“Tough shift?” I ask, as we head toward the mess hall.

“You have no idea. Another generator blew out and Andrew never showed up for work. I’m going to have to report him this time. The maintenance crew is stretched too thin even when he does bother to show up.”

We enter the brightly lit mess hall, and my eyes need a moment to adjust after the semi-darkness of the corridor. Most of the crew are already gathered around the table, chewing on a fresh tray of biscuits. These biscuits are ninety percent enriched soy paste and their taste reflects that fact, but they are also the most nutritious food ever produced. Com sits at the head of the table, leaning over his tablet, not eating. He looks up as the last stragglers take their seats.

“Maria’s under twenty-four hour quarantine. Her nausea’s been getting worse and I can’t risk her spreading whatever she’s got. Will, you’re going to have to cover her shift in Control.” I sigh inwardly, but nod in understanding. Maria and I have worked in the control room together for eight and a half years. Nobody knows its workings half as well as the two of us. “Second, we need to do a complete status report on all twelve generators.” There are audible groans from the maintenance crew. Com holds up his hands placatingly. “It’s got to be done. We can’t have a repeat of Year Four.” Everybody at the table grimaces at the thought. None of us will soon forget the three miserable months we spent overhauling the engines after a core overload. “While this is going on, I’ll need everybody to pitch in where they can…speaking of which, where is Andrew?”

“Actually, I meant to talk to you about that,” says Ed. “Andrew never showed up for his shift. I don’t know where he’s got to.”

A brief discussion with the rest of the crew quickly reveals that nobody knows where Andrew is. The last person to see him was his best friend Omar, and that was just after dinner last night. This isn’t altogether strange. Andrew has always been solitary, and there are plenty of quiet, isolated places on a ship this size. He must have fallen asleep in one of his hidey holes again.

From the start, Andrew was something of an outsider among the crew. He barely made the cut during training and was only chosen for the mission as a last minute substitution. The survival of our small community is ever tenuous. Trillions of kilometers from home, in an experimental spacecraft with limited supplies, there is little room for error. Those selected for the mission had to demonstrate the highest level of self-discipline to ensure that nobody engaged in any kind of behaviour that might jeopardize the mission. Even thoughts detrimental to our project should be avoided if at all possible. It is a challenging life, but rewarding in its own way. We are single-minded in our mission and through that we gain a kind of peace and serenity that few on Earth will ever experience. They call us New Humanity, an optimistic template for what our species must inevitably become. Unfortunately, Andrew has never been quite able to live up to New Humanity, and his idiosyncrasies have only gotten worse over the years.

Com stomps across the hall to the control room and we hear him shout over the intercom. “Andrew! Get up to Control right now!” A minute later, we hear his voice again. “Andrew, respond.”

We wait, but no response comes. Andrew might be unreliable, but no member of this crew would just ignore Com like that.

It takes us twenty minutes to get organized for a manual search of the ship. The ship is shaped like a giant cylinder, a kilometre long. The engine runs through the center, along the entire length, and the rest of the ship wraps around it. The artificial gravity pulls toward the center, creating the illusion that the interior is flat. Most of the twenty kilometres of floor space is devoted to storage of food, water, and spare parts, but we still have a lot of ground to cover.

We each start in a different corridor and make our way down the ship. The first rooms that I search have already been emptied out, and only a brief survey is necessary. As I move farther down the ship, the storage bays are fuller and I have to weave my way among towers of metal crates in order to ascertain that Andrew isn’t there.

Midway down the ship, I find a storage bay without power. Not even the emergency lights are working. I activate the light on my headset and proceed cautiously into the room, knowing that disruptions in power are often accompanied by disruptions in gravity. Sure enough, I am no more than half a metre in when my left foot becomes noticeably lighter than my right. Somebody will have to come back with magnetic boots. I am just about to go when a small red dot drifts across the beam of my flashlight. I turn my head to illuminate it, and see a second dot floating a few centimetres from the first. There is a trail of them, leading up to the ceiling where they coalesce into a stream of blood, lazily drifting away from a dark figure floating above me.

“I-I need a doctor down here right way.” My voice sounds weak and shaky as I speak into the headset. “I’ve found Andrew.”

***

The ashen-faced crew are assembled once again in the mess hall. Nobody speaks, though we all have a lot we’d like to say. Andrew was never popular. He was condescending to his colleagues, disrespectful to his superiors, and generally unreliable. Nobody could say that they bore him no ill will, but to die like that…I shudder.

I can’t stop picturing Andrew’s face, blood running from his bulging eyes onto purple skin. There is no need to wait for the doctor’s autopsy to know what happened. We’ve all seen pictures of rapid decompression victims. There is an airlock on the far side of the storage bay that must have come open. Except airlocks don’t just come open. There are at least three safety systems that would have to fail for such an accident to occur, and two more for it to happen without triggering an alarm. The ship is derelict, but not that derelict.

Everybody looks around as Com appears in the doorway, accompanied by Doctor Singh. “The airlock was sabotaged,” he says without preamble. “Somebody disengaged the safety locks so that both doors would open simultaneously.”

 “So it was murder,” Ed states unnecessarily.

“An ingenious murder at that,” I add. “With the safety system offline, the airlock could be triggered remotely. The killer never had to be in the same room as Andrew. If his shirt hadn’t snagged, he would have been sucked out into space and we would never have known what happened. Only, why didn’t the decompression alarm sound?”

“No power.” I look down the table and see that it is the youngest member of our crew — who we call the Kid, although she is now twenty six — speaking. “There was no power in the storage bay, and if the vents were closed off, it would be airtight.” There is a good reason why the Kid was chosen for this mission over older and more qualified candidates. Her powers of observation are remarkable. As usual, she has worked out the answer before the rest of us thought of the question.

Everybody looks from the Kid to me. The ventilation system has two control panels. One is in the fan room, the other is by my workstation.

“Will,” says Com slowly. “Did anybody come into Control last night that shouldn’t have been there?”

I shake my head.

“Did you, at any point during your shift, leave your workstation unattended?”

Again I shake my head. “Nobody came in all night.” I wish I could give a better answer. I know how it looks, me being alone with a possible murder weapon at my fingertips. Eleven pairs of eyes are fixed on me. They all look suspicious. Some are even accusatory. “Look, why would I kill Andrew?” My voice is higher than normal. “I didn’t even work with him. I have no reason to want him dead.” I try to sound reasonable, but I can hear the desperation in my voice.

***

For the better part of nine years, this crew has faced the universe together. We broke the light barrier together, endured the long isolation together. I might have disliked certain crewmates, at times, but they all had my absolute trust. If one of them were accused of murder, nothing short of incontrovertible proof would convince me of their guilt. Apparently I was wrong to think that faith would be reciprocated. The lack of motive, or real evidence against me, has done nothing to prevent me becoming a murderer in the eyes of my crewmates. Com told me, without naming names, that a few of the crew are concerned about my being allowed to work in Control alone. Thankfully, Com dismissed their concerns, but I suspect that even he doesn’t fully trust me now.

At first I thought I was imagining things, but I am definitely being followed. The Kid has taken to walking with me whenever I try to move about the ship. This isn’t really that bothersome. She is at least willing to make pleasant conversation. Yet there is no escaping the fact that she is following me. I want her to trust me. The crew has always looked up to her, even back when she really was a kid.

Omar is even worse. I know that many of the crew suspect me, but only he has actually gone so far as to accuse me openly. Since Com refuses to arrest me without evidence, Omar has taken it upon himself to find some. He follows me to and from every shift, bombarding me with questions about where I am going and why. Whenever he accosts me in the corridor, there is nothing I would like better than to turn around and scream at him to leave me alone, but I manage to keep my anger in check. An outburst of violent emotion would only incriminate me further. It is behaviour unbefitting New Humanity.

At least Maria believes me. That is some consolation. When I am in Control, I can still pretend things are normal. Without meaning to, I have found myself visiting her there, just to see a friendly face. When I come into the mess hall, three days after finding Andrew’s body, I immediately look for her, but she is deep in conversation with Doctor Singh. I slip into the chair nearest the door, which happens to be next to Ed. Ed hasn’t said whether he believes me or not, and I’ve been too afraid to ask, but he is still as friendly as ever. We chat for a moment, but are interrupted when Singh stands up. She looks so grim that I am sure somebody else must have died.

“We have a new problem. I analyzed the test results from Maria’s illness. She…”

“Wait.” Maria grabs Singh’s arm. “I should tell them myself.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

Her words are greeted with stunned silence. How could this happen? We are meant to be representatives of New Humanity, able to rise above our animal natures. We were selected from thousands of applicants, not only for our skills but for our self-discipline. We went through years of psychological training to restrain any biological impulse that might jeopardize the mission. The ship only has the resources to support a crew of fourteen. No more. That is why romantic relationships are strictly forbidden.

I let my gaze slide across the faces of the crew. How many others have broken the rules? Com is staring at Maria in stunned disbelief, Omar with a kind of cold satisfaction, the Kid calm and contemplative. I look at Ed last, and his face is locked in a strange expression, somewhere between excitement and terror.

Com stands up. It takes him a moment to find his voice. “Who is the father, Maria?”

“I’d rather not…” Maria’s voice trails away. “It’s kind of complicated…it might be best…”

“Genetic testing is a simple matter,” Doctor Singh remarks coldly. “You’re not helping him by refusing to answer.”

“Oh, alright. The father is…”

“Me,” says Ed suddenly.

“Andrew,” says Maria.

Ed and Maria stare blankly at each other for a moment, and all I can think is: Thank God! Thank God, I’m off the hook. Then the terrifying reality hits me. Ed probably killed Andrew. As head of maintenance, he would have free access to all the systems necessary to engineer the murder. If he had somehow found out about Andrew and Maria…

“Ed,” Com begins slowly. “Did you kill Andrew?”

“No! Of course I didn’t. I only found out about him and Maria just now.” Ed rounds on Maria. “Tell them I didn’t know.”

“He didn’t know. I was careful.” Maria doesn’t sound sure.

“Ed could have found out any number of ways,” Omar says, sceptically. “Andrew might even have told him. He never did know when to keep his mouth shut.”

“I didn’t know! I was covering for Andrew. I didn’t even want to tell Com he was missing shifts. Will, wasn’t I covering for Andrew?

Ed turns to me, and my brain freezes. “You always did like to handle problems with subordinates yourself,” I say without meaning to. “You complained about Andrew constantly. How he was lazy, how he ignored your orders, how his colleagues were pushing you to do something about it. It must have killed you inside to find out that your lover was carrying his child. Maybe you followed him, found out where he was hiding all those times he was supposed to be on duty. It would have been so easy to sabotage the airlock.”

“But…but…but…” Ed desperately searches for a new defense. “I have an alibi. The Kid and I were working on the broken generator all night.”

“Until you misplaced that microdrill and had to go get a replacement,” the Kid replies coldly. “You were gone for almost twenty minutes.”

Ed begins raving, desperately insisting that he didn’t kill Andrew, that he didn’t know about the affair, didn’t know Maria was pregnant. Finally Com places a hand on his shoulder, and informs him that he’s under arrest.

***

From the crew lounge I can see our destination: the star codenamed Ithaca. It can’t be more than fifteen light years away, far closer than Earth, but I have never felt farther from it. Ithaca was a promise, a chance to find a new world, untouched by humans, where the failings of our ancestors could be avoided. But now it seems everything we had meant to leave on Earth has followed us here. If Ed could fall so far, what hope is there for the rest of us?

The door opens behind me with a soft hiss. Without a word, Maria pulls up a chair next to me. I continue to silently gaze at the stars, waiting for her to speak. Maria has become a pariah since Ed’s arrest. She broke the laws of our community just as much as he did. To some, her pregnancy was a crime just as severe as Andrew’s murder. The Kid even went so far as to demand her arrest. Com would hear nothing of it, though, leading to a heated argument. I don’t condone what Maria did, but she stood by me when I was an outcast, so the least I can do is hear her out.

“Ed didn’t do it, you know. I realize how it looks, but we both know that he isn’t capable of murder.”

“I thought I knew both of you,” I reply, without looking at her.

“For God’s sake, Will,” she bursts out suddenly. “Just because we leave Earth doesn’t mean we stop being human! I don’t know, maybe you can live with eating tasteless biscuits for every meal, staring at a monitor twelve hours a day, and plotting star charts as your only entertainment, but I can’t. Even Year Four was better than this. At least when you’re fearing for your life, you’re still alive. What are now? Just organic computers, going through the motions of our programming. I just want to be alive!” She leaps up and kicks her chair away in frustration. “So does Ed. That doesn’t make him a murderer.”

Perhaps there is some truth to what Maria is saying, or perhaps it is just an acknowledgement of our many years of friendship, but the next thing I know, I have agreed to help prove Ed’s innocence. Though I am certain of his guilt, I just can’t bring myself to refuse.

Com intends to put Ed on trial in one week. Omar will serve as prosecutor and Com as judge. We have until then to prove his innocence, if it’s even possible. After that…nobody has discussed what Ed’s fate will be, but we all know that we can’t keep him on board. Maria and I agree that, short of finding another suspect, our best shot is to prove Ed’s alibi. I suggest that we start by retracing his steps the night of the murder.

The generator rooms are located directly above the main engine. When we arrive at Generator Seven, the Kid is already there, her slight frame recognizable even though her face is concealed behind a welding mask. She has the generator opened up, and is so intent on her work that we both have to call to her several times before she looks up.

“Ed and I never finished fixing it. I thought I had better do it on my own.” She gets up, setting down a laser welder. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re trying to help Ed prepare his defence,” I explain.

“Why bother?” The Kid’s voice is strangely distorted by her mask. “He’s clearly guilty.”

“Then there should be no harm in making sure,” Maria counters.

The Kid ignores her and continues to address me. “There’s nothing much to investigate. Ed left at 3:12 and came back at 3:36. If anybody saw him during that time, they’re not talking.”

There is no arguing with the Kid. Her eidetic memory retains even the smallest details, but still, I promised Maria. “Could I have a look at what you were working on that night?”

The Kid shrugs and leads me over to the generator. It contains a series of silvery nodes that resemble stars. She begins explaining what she and Ed were working on, but I don’t listen. There is a pattern to the nodes. It is highly complex, but I am quite certain that one of this glinting objects is out of place. Without thinking, I reach over the Kid’s shoulder and produce the microdrill from a small cooling vent.

Maria’s eyes meet mine and a silent understanding passes between us. The vent is too high for a tool to have fallen in by accident, and I can think of no sensible reason to store it there. Somebody must have hidden it.

“So Ed’s clearly guilty, eh?” I hold up the microdrill where the Kid can see. Her eyes narrow slightly. “Was anybody else in here the night Andrew died?”

“Omar was. I mean, he was only in here a couple minutes. I had forgotten about it until now. But he and Andrew were best friends. Surely Omar couldn’t have killed him?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Maria says slowly. “Andrew didn’t really get along with anybody, not even me. I could see him pushing Omar too far.”

All this time, Omar had been howling for justice louder than anybody; demanding swift action against every new suspect as though certain of their guilt. The perfect cover.

***

We find Com working in Control. Maria and I take it in turns to tell him what we found, and how we think Omar lured Ed out of the generator room. At first Com seems sceptical, but he can’t ignore the possibility that Ed was framed. Just as Com is about to call Omar up to Control, Omar bursts into the room, panting and out of breath.

“Ed’s escaped. The lock on his door is melted through. He must have some kind of laser implement hidden in his cabin.”

“Interesting,” I say. “I suppose he hid the microdrill we found in Generator Seven as well. Or maybe that was you, Omar.”

Omar stares at me blankly. “I haven’t been down to the generators in months.”

Maria snorts derisively. “The Kid told us you were there, and she doesn’t make mistakes. She remembers everything she…” Maria’s mouth falls open as it dawns on her. A moment later it hits me as well. The Kid claimed that she had forgotten about Omar’s visit. How could that be, when she never forgets?

“Everybody trusts her,” I mutter under my breath, though the whole room can hear me. “We need to find Ed right now!”

***

People say that the Kid and I are a lot alike. Perhaps there is some truth to it, because I know immediately where she has gone. There is only one place on the ship where Ithaca is visible. If I were ever to make a last stand, that is where I would want to do it.

The Kid is waiting for us when we burst into the crew lounge. Ed is in a chair next to the window, his nose bloody. The Kid has a welder trained on him like a gun. I have no doubt that it will be just as lethal in a pinch.

“Jessica,” Com shouts. I had almost forgotten that was the Kid’s real name. “Put down your weapon. You don’t have to do this.”

“I do.” Her voice is cold as the vacuum of space. “I’ve known about Andrew and Maria for months. I should have reported them, put a stop to it, but I didn’t. When she began getting sick, it wasn’t too difficult to deduce what had happened. The ship can only sustain fourteen. Andrew had to pay the price. Life for life. But I didn’t know about Ed. He must face the same penalty. It’s only just.”

“That isn’t your decision to make.” Com’s voice is hoarse. I can tell he is terrified.

“There is no decision. You are too weak to do what has to be done. I’m not. All that matters is the mission.” The Kid shows no trace of emotion, yet I can feel waves of fury coming off her. This is as close to passion as her disciplined, compartmentalized mind is capable of. I am seeing the perfect realization of New Humanity, and even in my horror, a small part of me is impressed.

Com has the only real weapon on the ship, a pistol that had never before left its case. He trains it on the Kid. She gives him an appraising look, and turns her laser on the window. “Point three seconds to burn through on this setting. I’ll give you to the count of ten to get out, then we all die. Ten. Nine. Eight…”

“You’re not going to do that,” I say calmly, advancing into the room. I am New Humanity too. I understand her perfection far better than she can ever understand my imperfect mind. Life means nothing to her. All that matters is getting to Ithaca. But there are only three navigators on the ship, and all of them are in this room. Killing us would doom the mission. I carefully position myself between her and Ed. “You can’t kill Ed unless you kill me, and we both know you can’t do that.”

“I can kill her, though.” The Kid swings around to point the laser at Maria, but Com steps in the way. She is trapped now. No way to escape, no way to carry out her objective. There is only one solution left available to her. “Take Ed and seal the door on your way out.”

I clasp her shoulder and point to Ithaca. “We’re going to get there. The third planet will be able to sustain life, or the fourth, or both. History will know that we were the first ones to get there. All of us.”

The Kid nods, her eyes shut. The rest of us evacuate the room, and Com seals the door. A moment later we hear a sharp crack as the window shatters, followed by a rush of air as the room’s contents are thrown out into space.

***

“Bring us in slow.” Com sounds both exhilarated and exhausted. It is day three thousand, two hundred eighty one. We have entered Ithaca’s orbit. All of the idle crew are gathered in Control, eager for their first look at our destination. The ship shudders as it decelerates. Through the external viewing port we can see Ithaca, at this distance still only a small ball of light, but closer than ever before. To the right of the star glow two smaller objects: planets. They look so tiny, it’s hard to believe that they are humanity’s future. There are no cheers or celebration from the disciplined crew, but an unmistakable wave of relief spreads through the group at the sight of those planets.

Maria leaves her station to take little Penelope from Doctor Singh. The infant appears mesmerized by the lights. She does not know the significance of what she is witnessing, that she will be the first person to grow up under an alien sun. She just likes the shapes and colours of the universe.

Ed enters, making no effort to hide his excitement at what has happened. He grins at all of us and puts his arm around Maria. Ed has no idea if the child is actually his. Doctor Singh offered to do a test, but he refused. In the end, it doesn’t really matter.

Com looks uneasy as he watches the happy family. He loves Penelope as much as anybody, but she is a constant reminder of the failings of New Humanity. Nothing has been quite the same since Andrew’s murder. Nobody talks about it, but the Kid hangs over us all. She was the best of New Humanity, so where does that leave the rest of us? Sooner or later Penelope will ask where she came from. What will we tell her? What will we teach her to believe? It is hard to imagine Penelope growing up to be a killer, but New Humanity has already birthed one monster. The Kid was what we made her, and I fear Penelope will be too.

The child is still gazing at Ithaca, enraptured by the light. In less than a day we will arrive, and learn at last if the planets are capable of supporting life. Then the real work will begin, laying the groundwork for human settlement. It will be a long time before we return to Earth. Penelope will spend her formative years here. Life in space will be as natural to her as life on Earth was to us. She already is New Humanity. What that means is not for us to decide. In the end, it will be up to her.

***

This story first appeared in the 2018 issue of Juice Magazine. © Chris Wyman.

Header image by Jeremy Perkins on Unsplash. https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1506318137071-a8e063b4bec0?ixlib=rb-4.0.3&ixid=MnwxMjA3fDB8MHxwaG90by1wYWdlfHx8fGVufDB8fHx8&auto=format&fit=crop&w=893&q=80