CHAPTER 13

Robert stepped off the scale and took a deep breath. He didn’t need the doctor’s quiet clucking to tell him what he had seen with his own eyes. His weight was still down by seventeen pounds. “So what’s the verdict, Doc?”

The doctor glanced up from his comp pad. “Are you still taking those pills I prescribed?”

“Every day, morning, noon, and night, just like you told me.”

The doctor tossed his pad onto the nearby table. “For whatever reason, your bone mass doesn’t want to rebuild. Without the bone strength, your body doesn’t want to add any more muscle because it knows your skeleton won’t handle it.”

His hands bunched into fists as he struggled with what was being told to him. “So what do you think I should do?”

“I think we’re going to have to try something different, perhaps a marrow transplant. I don’t know.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. You’re healthy, Robert, healthy enough to live a normal life, for now. But if I don’t do something, you won’t see seventy. Once old age gets hold of you, what little bone you have left will fail quickly.”

I’m never going to get better. Robert let his fists drop and his shoulders slump. “So what now?”

The doctor smiled and clapped a hand onto his shoulder. “Keep up the physiotherapy. Every little bit helps. And who knows, perhaps some gene will trigger and start building bone again because of the demand. The human body still has a lot of mysteries we haven’t solved. And every now and then I get amazed by some act of recovery no science can explain.”

He started to get dressed again. “Well, I guess I better get back to the grind. Thanks again, doc. Same time next week?”

“See you then.”

As he strolled out of the medical facility, he retrieved his phone from his jacket pocket. Three missed calls and two messages. One from Administration. He hit send. “Hi, it’s Robert Tangler. Someone looking for me?”

“Hello, Captain Tangler. Yes, Administrator Higginbottom would like to have a word with you. Please hold.”

The administrator? What does Bart want?

“Hello, Robert. I’d like to see you right away. Come by my office, will you?”

“What’s this all about?”

“It’s about Brooke. There’s been an incident. I figured you better hear it from the horse’s mouth.”

“Sure thing. On my way.”

He pocketed his phone and made straight away for the Kennedy Space Center where the administrator’s office was. What could have happened? Was she killed? It must be bad if they won’t tell me over the phone.

Upon arrival, Robert was ushered into the private office right away. “Hello, Bart.”

The administrator shook his hand. “Thanks for coming, Robert. Sit down. Sit down. Let me brief you on what’s going on.”

Bart sat behind his desk.

“There’s some big news, Robert. Big news. Your friend has discovered microbial life on Mars.”

Robert let out a sigh. He hadn’t realized until then that he had been holding his breath. “That’s good news, isn’t it? I mean, real good news.”

“Yes, well, not all the news is good. Brooke’s suit lost containment while retrieving the samples. She suffered a real bad case of the bends. Jesse is a first class doctor. It’s why we put him in charge of this mission. He tells us they got her back to the base and have her in the airlock trying to pressurize the nitrogen out of her system. She’s unconscious. We don’t know yet the severity of her injuries.”

The tension that had left him began to rebuild. “Why didn’t you tell me this first?”

“Because I wanted to make sure you were in a state of mind that could handle it. Listen, Jesse thinks he got her into the chamber in time. He thinks she’s going to come out of it okay. He’s not finding any visible signs of internal bleeding, meaning her organs are still sound. It’s just her neurological issues he’s concerned with. She should have regained consciousness by now.”

“You mean…she could have brain damage?”

Bart waved a hand in dismissal. “Nothing so severe. No, it’s more like confusion, memory loss, and visual abnormalities. And she may be subject to mood or behavioral changes. These are things you can help with when she gets back.”

The administrator got up from his chair and came back around the desk, a signal it was time to go, and Robert rose as well. “Thanks for letting me know first. You’ll keep me informed. Right?”

Bart clapped him on the back and guided him out the door. “Yes, yes. It’s all arranged. Now go home and take care of yourself. We’ll notify you as soon as she’s awake.”

***

Robert’s muscles ached. His bones ached. His head ached. In fact, everything ached. But he wasn’t going to let it stop him. He had only half a mile to finish his nightly jog. Of course, carrying the twenty pounds of weights on his back didn’t help. But if he gave up now, he might be packing in the rest of his life.

Besides, it helped him keep his mind off Brooke.

When he got home and finished a hot shower, he called Mission Control.

“I’m sorry, Captain Tangler. The last report says she’s still unconscious. It’s a seventeen minute communication delay at the moment. We’re in contact as much as the speed of light allows.”

“Okay. I’m going to bed, but call me when she wakes, no matter what the time—even if it’s four in the morning.”

“Will do, Captain Tangler.”

In the kitchen, he poured a large glass of cranberry cocktail. He figured, what the hell, and decided to spice it up with some gin. He was tired and sore, and the bed called his name. After downing the drink, he clambered under the blankets, but not before making sure his phone within easy reach.

Some sleep is what I need.

***

Robert, help me!

Brooke?

Help me, Robert.

How? How can I help you?

I think I’m dying.

They said you’re fine. They said they got you back in time.

I’m dying.

You’re not dying. You’re just unconscious. All you have to do is wake up.

Wake up?

Yes, wake up, Brooke. Wake up. Wake up!

Robert shot upright in bed. Sweat drenched him, and the sheets wrapped in a tangled mass around his body. All was quiet and dark in his room. A shiver ran through him.

The clock by his bed said 3:21 a.m. He reached for the phone and called Mission Control. “Have you heard anything?”

“Nothing, Captain Tangler.”

“You’re sure?

“I would have called, sir. We’ve heard nothing.”

“She’s awake. I know it. I’m coming down there.”

He hung up, struggled free from the bed linens, and jumped into some clothes. Halfway to the space center, his cell rang. “Good news, Captain. She’s awake. We just received the communiqué from Mars.”

“Thanks, that’s great. I’ll be there soon.”

He checked his watch. 3:38 a.m. How freaky is that? I have a dream, and she wakes up within seventeen minutes.