A Butterscotch Sky Ch. 01

She grinned humorously. "Commander, I drink it before finish milk from mother. You not report me?"

"Nyet . I'll prepare our meals," I said, opening four bins in the habitat's common area.

As we were the only two humans occupying the planet, we had free rein over the remaining food. The mission nutritionists didn't dictate our final meals, nor did they for our four departed crewmates which were already hundreds of thousands of kilometers away. I slowly sorted through the parcels.

"We have⁠—"

"This for me," she said, pointing to a pouch of macaroni and cheese with diced ham mixed in.

"Excellent choice," I said, adopting the tone of an attentive waiter at a five-star restaurant. I removed an identical packet for myself.

"This like meal before execution." She chuckled morbidly. "When on module, no eating food until arriving at Earth."

"Then I also choose …" I said, scanning more, "Eggplant lasagna, and … roast beef with carrots."

"I have schnitzel, also cheese cherry blintz."

I returned the lasagna pack I'd chosen to the bin because Alyonka's selection of blintzes with cream cheese and cherry glaze seemed a perfect dessert. I added the indicated measure of distilled water to her first packet and placed it in the preparation unit as Alyonka departed to retrieve her contraband. When she returned, she removed two 150ml poly bottles from a box labeled as a feminine hygiene product. She laughed when I groaned and rolled my eyes.

"Do not be afraid," she said. "Never used. Original contain only sterile water and acetic acid solution. I empty and remove it all with distillation water."

Made sense to me. She laughed even harder at me when she began to unwrap one of the bottle's nozzles. She deposited it in the waste container after she'd earned my shocked reaction.

She removed the cap from the first bottle as the hab's appliance had finished preparing her first portion. I placed mine inside the machine as she deposited very healthy pours of vodka into two cups.

I sipped. I marveled and relished the flavor of Russia's most award-winning vodka. I hadn't imbibed since the night before we launched from Earth, so it hit me fairly quickly, and the three shots of ninety-proof alcohol enhanced a very pleasant dinner.

As we dined, a windstorm raged outside the habitat. "Raged" is a relative word. The winds were indicating almost eighty kilometers per hour, which is quite high for Mars, but not uncommon on Earth.

The difference, though, is that winds so strong back home would cause dangerous conditions. Classic movie writers and science fiction authors loved to use the trope as a peril to life on the red planet, but it's not really a thing. The wind on Mars can blow very briskly, but it simply isn't dense enough to push things around. Sure, it'll pick up fine dust, but one would find it difficult to launch an ordinary kite into it. The R2 module had absolutely no problems launching in the "extreme" weather.

Alyonka and I ate, drank, and were very merry, then retired to our separate quarters.

"Spokoynoy nochi , Commander Emerson." She smiled, stopping at her door.

I nodded as I continued to mine. "Sleep well, Specialist Sabratova. Our very lives may depend on it."

Sol 337, Mars Time: 09:02

Alyonka stepped out of the life support module, the last to be shut down other than the main hub.

"You require my assistance?" she asked.

"Not for this part," I answered, stepping in and closing the hatch.

It required ten uncomfortable minutes to situate two waste elimination tubes into very uncomfortable places. Alyonka rejoined me after I put my Nomex undersuit pants back on and opened the hatch.

Alyonka placed intravenous cannulas in my arms and two more near my ankles and applied more than a dozen adhesive electrode patches on various locations. All the tubing and a wire harness were connected to an appliance the size of a lunchbox. Its purpose was to read biometric data, infuse saline into the cannulas to keep them open, and to also, well, deal with material output.

"Get this over," she said before she took several heavy snorts from an atomizer spray, numbing her sinuses, then squirted the same inside her mouth and swallowed. She reclined onto the examination table as I lubricated the tip of a nasogastric tube.

"Needles in legs and arms and tubes in genitals and backside is not comfort. But this one is worst," she groaned, tilting her head back and closing her eyes tightly.

I carefully insinuated the tube into her left nostril, aiming it toward the base of her skull.

"Start swallowing," I instructed after nine centimeters of tubing were introduced through her nose.

Once approximately fifty more had been placed, I attached a 50ml air-filled syringe to it and depressed the plunger.

"You know what to do," I said.

She burped.

It was so dainty, polite, and ladylike, and I grinned as a result. With a separate 5ml syringe, I aspirated a small sample and tested its pH to confirm it was strongly acidic. Both procedures verified the end of the NG tube was in her stomach, not one of her lungs. I closed the stopcock at the end of the tube and taped the slack under her cheekbone as she instructed.

She repeated the procedure on me, speaking calmly and reassuringly as she worked. She removed her surgical gloves then stroked my cheek with the back of her hand. It was an unusual but not unwelcome gesture.

"Six hours," I said.

"Da ," Alyonka replied before we completed the shutdown procedures in the habitat.

In our suits, we exited the facility which was venting its atmosphere through metered ports. I popped the safety off the self-regulating thermite bead's igniter. Once our launch was confirmed to be beyond the point of no return, it'd hermetically weld the hatch ensuring the interior would remain clean and nearly sterile for years if not decades should another mission be planned.

The rover, having previously delivered Irenka Ljuba and Shizuka Ayani to their return module, had returned to the base and was fully charged for its last sortie. An hour later, we were climbing the peg ladder into our own return module and the rover, once again, returned to base alone.

It required a bit less than three hours to prep our module for launch.

We disconnected and stowed our temporary life-support appliances and reconnected the thirteen fittings, ports, and sockets on and in our suits to the shipboard systems.

Medical Division at Central Mission had already begun receiving biometric telemetry via the temporary boxes and would confirm hand-off to the systems which would own our lives for months.

"Central, Pleiades Six Return Three. Module sealed, all lights green. Standing by," I radioed.

Alyonka and I chatted nervously while we waited for the reply.

"Pleiades Six Return Three, Central. All systems are nominal, launch window is clean and assured. Verbally confirm ready for DoC."

Discontinuation of Consciousness was the most innocuous term they'd devised. It was the equivalent of discontinuation of life in my mind.

"You ready for bedtime?" I asked my fellow passenger.

"Commander, in less twenty minutes, we sleep. May never wake again."

I responded only by taking her gloved hand in mine, giving it as firm a squeeze as I could through the stiff material.

She nodded, so I keyed the transmitter and cued her.

"Specialist Alyonka Sabratova, confirm ready," she said.

"Commander Sean Emerson, confirmed. Continue countdown."

It would take eight minutes and thirty standard seconds for our reply to reach Earth, and the same amount of time for their commands to return to us. We watched the ship's chronometer.

Besides the systems which managed the craft itself, including navigation and autonomous launch, atmospheric entry, and landing, the systems designed to maintain our lives were the most complex of all.

The life support system would feed drugs and biochemistry-stabilizing chemicals via the four intravenous lines. Some vitamins and pH balancing components would be similarly added. And water. Of course, fluids are constantly infused to provide hydration. Nutritional requirements would be introduced to the stomach in order to maintain the health and viability of our gastrointestinal and renal systems. Excreted wastes would be analyzed constantly, and adjustments made automatically unless intervention was required from Central Mission. Electrical stimulation would be provided to major muscle groups to exercise them through weightless months of complete motionlessness.

The drugs were the same sort as those used to medically induce comas in hospitals worldwide. The passage of time would not be perceived while we were unconscious. We wouldn't even dream. While the Earthbound people waited multiple months, if all went well, we'd feel a tingle as we were dosed and seemingly be transported in an instant to a hospital bed on Earth.

And, of course, if things went sideways, there was the other option, in which case we'd be transported to the afterlife.

"We acknowledge. Your four other crewmates are sleeping comfortably, as shall you both. Launch in thirty-four minutes. Mark time … now."

I saw status indicators change, and felt the tell-tale warmth begin at my left ankle. The ship's chronometer reset to zero and started counting up. Never really understood why, because we wouldn't be awake to watch.

"It feels good," Alyonka slurred. "Spokoynoy nochi Commaaann⁠—"

October 29, 2064

I heard odd sounds. My body felt as if it was enveloped in thick mud. I sensed pain. It reflected in my skull and radiated through every extremity. It made me flinch.

"⁠—sitive plantar reflex ⁠—"

"⁠—mander? Commander Emerson?" a different voice spoke.

"Keep talking," the male voice said.

"Commander, squeeze my hand."

I did. I strained to speak to the familiar voice.

"Slava Bogu ," I heard it speak more clearly, even though it was a whisper.

"You said slobber bug ."

"I said thank God."

I heard the male laugh. "It does sound very different to Engl⁠—never mind. It's not important. Humor is a good sign. Welcome back to the world, Commander Emerson."

"Water," I wheezed.

"Right here, sir," another masculine voice said.

I felt a straw alight on my lower lip and I instinctively latched onto it like a newborn baby to its mother and suckled.

The water was tepid but felt as bracing as a winter breeze. I drank slowly because my tongue seemed as stiff and thick as a new baseball glove. Just as it began to soften, the straw was pulled away.

"Give it back or I'll break your arm," I grunted.

"Take it slow, sir, your fluid intake is being regulated," said the first.

"Why?"

"You suffered a few complications due to some kind of automation error in your life support unit, but I am confident you'll recover fully. Your brain was swollen. Your kidneys shut down, and you developed cataracts in both eyes."

"How long before …" I was finding it difficult to speak. I gestured, instead, pointing to my lower back and covered eyes.

"It will take a few more weeks, but you're beyond the danger point which is why I revived you from DoC."

"Alyonka? How long have I bee⁠—"

"More than a month," I heard her soft voice, still almost a whisper.

"Everyone else⁠—"

"Everyone else is healthy."

I felt warm, soft hands surrounding mine. The back of my fingers met even softer skin, and lips gently and quietly kissed them.

"Alyonka, what⁠—"

"Do not speak," she whispered.

November 1, 2064

The incessant bleeps and bloops of the medical devices irritated my ears, but there was little I could do about it.

I heard the door to my room open.

"Commander, how are you feeling today, you emaciated little waif?"

"Siemen, I swear I'm going to kill the next person who addresses me by a rank that's now completely irrelevant."

He laughed lightly. "Yes, I know."

I offered up a hand, and he gave me a forearm handshake.

"Um … Sean, I heard about you and Dione."

"She can kiss my withered ass," I said, matter-of-factly. "Let me guess. You and her⁠—"

"Don't go there, Sean. You know I would never disrespect you like that. All the stuff I said during the mission was in jest."

"I know," I admitted.

"The rumor is that she was pretty upset when the media reported you were unwell."

I laughed. "Oh really ."

"So I have heard. Since your replacement lenses aren't ready for implant yet, I'll tell you what you can't see for yourself. Your room is full of plants, flowers, balloons, gifts, and stuff. Alyonka gave you this teddy bear, by the way," he teased, putting a fuzzy stuffed animal between my torso and arm. I suppressed the urge to chuckle or smile.

"What else have you heard?"

"Nothing, other than that you ended it with her. The news surprised me."

"Did she not tell you it was because she slept around on me during Pleiades?" I asked.

"No, Sean." He was silent for a few moments. "We had three incredibly beautiful women on our crew. Are you telling me you nev⁠—"

"Not even once," I said, cutting him off.

"You never had a good long look at Specialist Ljuba's gorgeous, perfect little ass?"

"I was taking the suppressors, Simi. You know that. Yes, she's a beautiful woman. Besides, she and Ced⁠—"

"And Cedric and Irenka, and me and Shizuka, and … I assumed you⁠—"

"No way, Simi. No way. No way I would ever do that. Dione and I were serious, or … so I thought."

"Ah."

"I guess no one else was taking them," I said, speaking of the libido-crushing drugs. For mission commanders, they were mandatory. For everyone else, the regime was voluntary.

I blindly scooped a spoonful of crushed ice into my mouth. I'd become quite adept at it, as long as I could find the thermal mug and spoon.

He asked, "You sure you and Alyonka never⁠—"

"Never."

"She has been here almost every single day, Sean. She was very upset by your condition."

I was silent until I smelled the food even before the nutritionist said, "Dinner, Commander. Today is beef tips and noodles. Do you need any assistance eating?"

"As long as it won't scorch my face if I miss my mouth, I'll be fine." I chuckled. "Give me the map."

I heard him moving things around.

"Your mug is on the right side and front of your table, handle on the right. Your dinner plate is directly in front of you. The main dish is at six o'clock, apple pie at ten, salad greens at three, dinner roll, oh, call it eight o'clock. Enjoy, sir."

"Like I'd ever enjoy hospital food," I joked, because it was usually delicious. "Thanks, whoever you are."

"Staff Sergeant Zack Zamoda. Any time, Commander."

I already knew I was recuperating at Walter Reed, the only reason it made sense the majority of the personnel were military.

"Do people ever call you Zayzay ?"

"All the time, sir, but they only do it once."

I laughed. The guy had a great sense of humor.

"Where are you from, Sergeant?"

"Born and raised in Durham, North Carolina. Been with the Air Force for nine years."

"Fist bump," I said and received one before he departed.

I oriented my mind's eye to the positions the sergeant described and sampled the warm apple pie first. It was incredibly good.

"Sean?" Simi said.

"Yeah?" I said with a full mouth.

"What about Dione?"

"I'll send her a message to let her know she can come visit tomorrow."

"You are certain?"

"Yes. I am," I said.

I smiled when the incredibly fresh salad greens with a light drizzle of balsamic vinaigrette crunched in my mouth. The previous "salad" I'd consumed was rehydrated and devoid of such texture.

"Simi, do me a favor and ask the sergeant if he can bring me another slice of pie, huh?"

He laughed. "You're a pig."

"I'm fifteen kilos under my pre-mission weight. Where are you?"

"One over." He chuckled. "Our flight dynamics cut three weeks off our transit, so Cedric and I were done with acclimation and halfway into rehab when R3 landed at the cape. R2 landed in Asia a week after Cedric and I did."

"Then don't judge me."

November 2, 2064 7:30am

"Breakfast, sir," a familiar voice said.

"What's in store this morning?" I asked.

"What does your sense of smell tell you?"

"I think it's ham and eggs, hashbrowns, and toast."

"You're getting good at this. It's a ham and cheese omelet at six, toast at ten, browns at two, a small jar of strawberry preserves and a dasher of hot sauce above the flatware spot right next to a thermal cup of coffee."

"No apple pie?"

He chuckled deeply. "Left side at nine o'clock. On its own plate."

"Bless you, my friend!" I grinned and offered a fist he bumped without hesitation.

There was cling wrap over the pie which explained why its aroma hadn't given it away. I asked the sergeant to remove the film and I attacked the pie first because it was so damned good. A balanced breakfast includes two servings of fruit, correct?

I'd barely finished my tray when I heard a knock and my door opening.

"Sean? Can I come in?"

"Yes, Dione."

"You don't look so good."

The revulsion I thought I detected in her words sealed my resolve.

"Thanks for noticing. What is it you want, honey?" I asked, sounding more saccharin than intended.

"We need to talk," she said after a long pause.

"Not necessary. I forgive you."

"You … you do?" she asked, her voice sounding perplexed and bewildered.

"I do, Dione. I forgive you."

I heard her begin to sniffle.

"Come here," I said.

I felt the air move as she drew near. I found her shoulders and brought her closer.

"Can I tell you something?" I asked.

"Of course, Sean," she whispered. I felt one of her tears land on my face, and she wiped it off with her thumb.

"I forgive you because carrying a grudge takes more energy than I want to expend on you, but I don't ever want to see or hear from you again," I said directly into her ear before pushing her upright.

I heard not a single sound for at least ten seconds other than the deepening and acceleration of her breathing.

"You⁠—you're a⁠—" she struggled.

"Of course I am. You're the one who slept with my mission alternate the night before my module landed at the cape," I said evenly. "Yes. I'm aware. News travels fast in this small community."

If I'd had the use of my eyes, I'd have seen her hand before it slapped my face. It didn't really hurt much. It even felt a bit weak, but I refused to react.

"I held up my end of the promise you and I made to each other. And … striking a blind man, Dione? That's classy."

"Goodbye, Sean," Dione said after several silent moments.

"Yeah. Sure. Goodbye, Dione."

"Well done," I heard a male voice say. I assumed it was from the hallway because I heard Dione's heels clicking from a distance when they were spoken.

Those two words infuriated me. She had the gall to bring her latest conquest to the hospital? If I had the strength, I would have chased them and taken the guy to the ground. Instead, I lay there seething from stem to stern, and then decided to take my own advice and not expend the energy.

Of course I earned a salary. Half of my pay went to a joint account. At my request, a representative from human resources at Central changed my record to ensure all of my pay went into an account to which Dione Wilcox had no access. It held almost two million U.S. Dollars. It'd keep me fed and pay the rent on an abode I didn't yet have.