They Come for Your Skin

Ellison Part 1

Experience 11

"Are we really going to be ok? You're sure the ship will hold up, right?" Christa asked me for the dozenth time. She had been so calm during all the training simulations and testing. I wasn't surprised that she had developed nerves at the last moment, most people did on their first trip. I was just annoyed that she had no one else to question.

This wasn't my first rodeo. I was trying to think of my family. Like each trip before, this one could spell the end of my life.

Francis took one more look backwards from the commander's seat. One final check to make sure everything was properly secured, including us. Satisfied, he turned back to the console in front of him as the countdown from the intercom grew ever lower.

Christa was quiet now. We all were. There was no more time for idle chit-chat. I had never answered her last question. There was no longer any need. We would know the answer soon enough regardless of what I said.

"Main engine hydrogen burn-off system, activated." Spoke Michael into his microphone. The countdown had reached the final ten. I held my breath in anticipation as I tried to prepare myself.

Ten

I looked over to Christa one last time. Her eyes were closed and her lips moving. That was good. If ever there was a time to make peace with god, this was it.

Nine

I turned back to the front and settled in. Francis was making one more final check. I was glad to have him as a commander. On the surface, his constant need to double check everything was an annoyance, but here it was extremely comforting.

Eight

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing.

Seven

"Main engine start." Spoke Michael. With a flick of a switch the distinctive noise began behind us.

Six

I readied myself. It didn't matter how many times you did this, it was always like the first. The brain doesn't seem to be able to fully remember events this momentous. Knowing what to expect meant knowing you wouldn't expect it.

Five

I made peace with my own gods and cleared my mind. Now was not the time for thought.

Four

I breathed in.

Three

I breathed out.

Two

I thought once more of my wife, my children.

One

I tried to remain calm, but every muscle in my body tightened on pure instinct. I tried to force relaxation, but it was too late.

Zero

With a huge bang, the engines ignited and we began to lift. It was slow at first. I could hardly even detect movement, but that didn't last for long.

Each passing second was another ten pounds pushing onto every part of my being. I felt hopelessly crushed against the cushion behind me. Even breathing became difficult, though I followed my training and pulled shallow breaths in whenever possible.

My flattened body held no resistance against the violent shaking that underwent the ship as we tore through the atmosphere.

All thought was pushed from my brain as my body frantically attempted to remain internal stability. It felt like hours passed, though logically I knew it to be only minutes, before the first reprieve.

Suddenly the pressure disappeared and I felt myself regain balance. I glanced over at Christa to make sure she hadn't passed out or vomited, both options potentially deadly.

She was smiling at me. I could see her reddened cheeks grinning in relief that we had made it. It seems she had forgotten. We hadn't made it. This was just the start.

Once the solid fuel boosters had fully disengaged, the pressure hit again. This second boost was technically worse, but I'd always found it easier. The pressure might be greater, but the surprise was diminished. My body already knew what to expect. It had immediate experience to call on, rather than faded memory.

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing once more. The pressure and the fear had the amazing effect of clearing my brain. Forcible meditation, if you will. During those few minutes all my connections and possessions fade from my mind. I am one with the universe.

When the pressure was replaced by a new sensation, I finally opened my eyes. The never-ending force beating me down into the cushions had been replaced with the exact opposite. The straps keeping me in my seat were the only things preventing me from floating free.

I heard a laugh from beside me and I looked up to see Christa already unbuckled and floating away. She's was right to be happy. We had made it. The most dangerous part was over. There would be more scary moments to come, but take off is the most likely to end in disaster.

Cheers came through the intercom after Francis relayed our status. They seemed in agreement. It should have been smooth sailing from there.

I unbuckled myself and joined Christa floating around the cabin. It always takes a while to re-accustom myself to zero gravity. It was another odd sensation that the brain seems incapable of fully recalling. It took me a moment to orient myself.

Once the last buckle came off, I pushed myself lightly from my chair. I floated free for a moment, body confused by the sudden absence of direction. Free from the restraints of gravity, I kicked lightly against the chair in front of me and floated slowly to Christa.

She seemed to still be getting the hang of it. I watched her push off of a wall a little too hard and then flail uselessly as she tried to correct. It was no use, of course, and she bumped into the far wall with a thump.

I floated over to her and grabbed the edges of her suit, turning her to face me. She was laughing hysterically behind her helmet. I couldn't help but laugh myself. The first time being weightless is amazing. Even still, I feel the joy.

We spun gracefully through the cabin, pushing each other playfully. We floated objects back and forth through the air and took turns doing never-ending front flips.

A few minutes later Francis and Michael joined us, post-entry-system's-check completed. They'd already removed their helmets, so we knew it was safe to do the same.

"So teach, how did it feel popping your space cherry?" Francis jokingly asked Christa after we get our helmets off. She laughed in response.

"It was better than I thought. I heard your first time was supposed to hurt, but it was mostly just uncomfortable." She replied. We all had a good laugh at that. The easy comradery we shared was only heightened in the aftermath of takeoff.

"Connection's live, if you're ready to talk to your students." Michael added after a moment. Christa immediately grinned and nodded. Together they floated back to the cockpit, ready to begin their livestream. Francis and I had other work to complete.

While the commander performed a more intimate systems-check, I began unpacking the tools we would need for Christa's experiments. As an astronaut, I was used to being watched at all times. It was strange, however, knowing that this time I would be watched by schoolchildren.

I finished setting up the experiments just in time. Michael gave me a signal from the front letting me know they were switching to my camera. Moments later, Christa floated back to my side. She introduced me and I gave a heartfelt message before leaving her to do her thing.

I checked in with Francis. All systems nominal. Everything was going according to plan. I breathed a little easier at this.

I settled in and listened to Christa's excited one-way conversation. She was explaining just how far we would be traveling in the next six hours before docking with the International Space Station. I chuckled a bit to myself as I thought of her students. She was a little overeager in her teaching style, but thorough. They were lucky to have her.

An hour later Christa and I were showing off a floating blob of water on camera. She had pulled me into the demonstration, and I hadn't fought it. Her good mood was contagious.

That's when the first object struck the ship.

With a loud slam, the ship suddenly jerked off course. We were both thrown off balance as the lab equipment flew randomly around us. I righted myself and grabbed Christa to stop her slow spinning. She looked at me fearfully.

"What's going on?" She asked. I didn't have an answer. Instead, I shut off the camera to the livestream and pulled her towards the cockpit.

Michael and Francis were already there, frantically trying to determine our status.

"Repeat, minor collision with some sort of debris. Houston, please advise." Said Francis into the intercom. We were hit again before we could hear an answer.

With a huge metallic crash, another object struck the hull. I was more prepared this time. My grip on the hand rail barely kept me from bouncing freely around the ship. Christa wasn't so lucky.

I reached out and grabbed her foot before she could get away. I didn't even bother pulling her to me. Instead, I threw her weightless body in the direction of her seat. Now stable, she managed to get a grip on the chair and began to strap herself in. I did the same.

Francis was frantically shouting into the microphone now. There was no reply. Only static came from the other end. Our communications array must have been damaged. We wouldn't be getting any advice any time soon.

"Get your helmet on!" I shouted to Christa before following my own advice. She looked terrified, but did as I ordered.

I secured the neck clasp not a moment too soon. Another huge crash sent my senses spinning. Before I could recover there was another one, then another.

I held on for dear life as each new object threatened to pierce the hull once and for all. I could see Michael frantically mashing buttons at the main console, but it felt useless. We were at the mercy of nature. No systems check could save us now.

Then my world exploded.

A massive crash, much louder and more violent than before. The lights flickered out leaving us in total darkness as the air rushed past me. I could feel it pulling me backwards into my seat. Everything unsecured blew past as the atmosphere we had bottled flowed out into the vacuum of space.

I thanked god for the straps keeping me secure and the suit keeping my lungs oxygenated. It was the only thing that kept me from passing out under the intense forces playing with my body.

Thankfully, it didn't take long. I held a white-knuckle grip on my arm rests the entire time, but soon there was nothing left in our ship to be expelled. The only air remaining was in our suits. The darkness around me plunged my heart into fear as the icy coldness of space began to seep in from behind.

Michael and Francis were hitting buttons again. Seems like they were trying to restart our power supply. I was too disoriented to help.

I looked over to Christa. Even in the darkness and through the helmet, I could see the tears running down her face. I couldn't blame her. We were seasoned veterans of space flight prepared for an untimely death. She was a teacher. She must have been terrified.

I wanted to console her, but I had no way of speaking to her with our communications down. It didn't matter. There was nothing I could have said. She was correct in her assumption that this probably meant our deaths.

Then, the lights flickered back on. Francis finally turned to check on us. I gave him a thumbs-up to show him my survival. When Christa didn't follow suit, I pointed to her and gave another thumbs-up. He nodded and turned back to the console.

Moments later, I heard the crackle of my earpiece starting up. Michael's voice came through loud and clear a moment later.

"That should be communications backup. Can everyone hear me?" He asked. We all replied affirmatively and looked to Francis for orders.

"Ok. We've got a lot to do and not a lot of time if we want to survive. First, we need to get connected to the alternate air supply. At best, we've only got a couple of minutes of air in these suits. Then we can focus on restoring cabin pressure." He said. He was right. I unbuckled myself and got to work.

The scene behind us wasn't pretty. Some sort of large object was piercing through the side of the hull. It seemed wedged in the opening, even though the air had been able to escape through cracks around it. Every unsecured object in the ship was slowly spiraling around those cracks, at least the objects large enough to have not been sucked outside completely.

The knot in my stomach redoubled as I examined the damage. It was extensive. Was there any way we could survive this?

It wasn't the time to ponder that question though. If survival was possible, it was only through quick action. We floated past the hull breach and connected our suits to the oxygen pumps. Tubes long enough for a spacewalk were more than enough for inside the ship.

I breathed a sigh of relief as my O2 indicator began to rise. If the tanks had been damaged we would have been out of luck. It seemed fate would allow us a few more minutes at least.

Without a moment to waste, Michael and I got to work. The countless hours of training for every possible eventuality paid off. We both knew exactly what to do.

Approaching the breach with tools in hand we began to fill the gaps around the object. Even with an oxygen supply it was imperative that we seal the breach quickly. It was the only way we would be able to re-pressurize the cabin; our only real chance at survival.

The chemical we sprayed onto the gaps had an interesting property. Once outside the canister, it would immediately swell up into a foam before hardening. I just hoped we had enough. No one could have predicted an encounter with debris of this size.

The foam expanded into every crack we stuffed it in. It patched the holes and even pushed outwards into the ship before hardening. I breathed another sigh of relief as we finished with gel to spare.

By the time we finished, Francis had all the systems back up and running, or at least all the systems that still functioned. We gave him the okay, and the room began to refill with oxygen. A few minutes later the gauge read nominal. We removed our helmets once more and gathered for a debriefing.

Christa removed her helmet and joined us also. So caught up in working to save our lives, none of us had noticed her since the impact. She seemed to have her crying under control, though she looked a mess. I could hardly blame her. Without work to focus on, I would have been experiencing existential terror myself. I was glad to see her at least semi-composed.

"What's our status?" Francis asked. Michael was already checking the readouts, readying his reply.

"Communications are completely down. The system won't even initialize. It must be totaled. We can still output a signal, but we won't be receiving at all." He said. That was a bad sign.

"How about our oxygen? Do we have enough left to make it?" Francis asked.

"We lost a lot. The main tanks are completely spent. I had to use the reserves to re-oxygenate the cabin. Still, if my calculations are correct, we should have just enough to get us to the ISS. We just won't have any left over for the return trip."

"We can deal with that problem later. For now, we need to focus on survival. Do we even know what it is that hit us?" The commander asked. Now it was my turn to speak up.

"I've examined the object. It seems to be a chunk of space ice. I can't tell if it's frozen water or some sort of gas, but it must have been traveling in orbit for some time. Perhaps a broken off piece of comet pulled into our gravity."

We all took a moment to examine the massive tip piercing through our hull. A giant piece of space ice. How ironic. Is this how the crew of the Titanic had felt?

"We've got one more problem. That impact knocked us off course. Rather than reach the ISS, we'll re-enter atmosphere in two hours. That's a death sentence at this angle." Said Michael.

"What would it take to correct our course?" Asked the commander. Michael sighed.

"I can figure it out, but it's going to take time. Half my systems are still down. I'm going to have to calculate it by hand. But even if I do get it, we've got a bigger problem. Any course correction is going to require a burn. Is that thing going to hold in place while we fire the engines?"

We all looked back to the ice shard. Michael had a point. I couldn't imagine that a burn wouldn't shake it free. At the very least, it would destroy the seal we had just completed.

"You get to work on those calculations. We'll figure out what to do with the breach." Francis replied, trying to sound confident. It didn't work. I'd known him a long time. I could hear the fear in his voice. He had children too. Was he thinking of them? Of his doorbell ringing, his wife being delivered the terrible news?

I shook my head and followed him to the back. It wasn't time for thoughts like that. It was time for actions to prevent that very outcome.

Maybe somehow, we could find a way.

As we worked to secure the ice chunk a new problem revealed itself. The cabin was still terribly cold from the vacuum of space but the heaters were still functioning. That was good. The intense cold made every action difficult. As the warmth returned, it felt like hope creeping slowly into my body.

At least it had felt like hope, until Christa pointed out something we had all missed.

"Is...is it dripping?" She asked.

Both Francis and I looked at each other in shock, then at the ice. I hadn't even entertained the possibility.

We floated over to the object and inspected it closely. Sure enough, slow droplets were bubbling on the side. Without gravity, the usual running and pooling of the water didn't occur. Instead, the water molecules bundled up into droplets before evaporating directly into our low humidity environment.

Running my finger across the side of the ice pushed a small blob of liquid floating slowly across the cabin. This was very bad.

"Get the sealant, now!" Shouted Francis. I hurried to obey.

As quickly as we could, we began to recoat the edges of the ice in the expanding foam. When we were half way done with the fresh coat, a whistling noise started from the bottom. I knew exactly what that noise was. It was the beginning of air escaping once more. We couldn't let that happen. Even one more breach was certain death.

We patched the gap in time, and finished the rest of the edges without incident. I breathed a sigh of relief I didn't know I was holding. It always felt nice, realizing that I had a just little more time before being sucked out into the cold death of space.

"Michael! Shut off the heating systems immediately!" The commander shouted. Michael did as he asked, but it was too late. There was no way to cool the cabin without waiting for it to happen naturally; short of breaching again.

We spent the next hour continually filling the growing gaps around the melting ice. It was the only thing we could do. The frantic movements of our bodies didn't help the temperature. No matter how cold the cabin became, the ice never seemed to stop shrinking.

"Ok, I've got it all worked out and double checked. In five minutes, we need to burn for twenty-two seconds, five degrees off of our retrograde mark. That should put us back on route to the ISS." Michael said, floating to us from the cockpit.

"Five minutes, huh? We're running out of time. We need to figure out some way to secure this ice to the ship. If it breaks off during the burn, we're dead." Francis replied.

"I've been thinking about that. What if we drill holes and run ropes through them. We'll have to hurry, but we might be able to stabilize it enough." I said. They both nodded agreement.

I retrieved the drill while Francis and Michael began tying ropes to the walls. Before I could start drilling, Christa spoke up.

"Why don't we tie one of them to the stone sticking out? That would probably help."

We all stopped what we were doing to look at her. Sure enough, her finger was pointing to an object protruding from the center tip of the ice. I had been so focused on maintaining the seal on the edges I hadn't even noticed it.

It only extended out from the ice a few inches, but it was clearly made of something different. I got close and examined it. Sure enough, it seemed to be some kind of stone. Dark, black and very sharp. It stood as evidence toward my comet theory being correct.

I drilled some holes and we secured the ice as tightly to the ship as possible. Of course, one of the ropes was tied around the rock protruding from the side. If nothing else, it was likely to be more stable than my ice holes.

With time running out, we suited back up and strapped back into our seats. There was nothing to do now but wait and pray. We didn't get to pray for long though. Thirty seconds later the boosters ignited.

The ship shook terribly. The odd protrusion made the aerodynamic design useless. I wanted desperately to look behind me, to see if the ice would hold, but there was no way to turn in my seat.

Twenty-two seconds later, when the engines sputtered out, I held my breath waiting for the other foot to drop. It never did.

Michael gave the all clear. We were back on course and the cabin had remained pressurized. I unbuckled myself and headed back to the ice.

Several of the ropes had come free. Mostly, it had been the ice holes I had drilled. Their strength had not been enough against the strain. Thankfully, a few still remained, and the one connected to the extruding stone was secure also.

Testing the strain of the ropes, I realized that the one tied to the stone might have been the difference between victory and defeat. I made sure to tell Christa immediately. She didn't seem to care who had been responsible for our survival, but I was glad to have her along anyway. Without her perspective, twice already we would have perished.

A whistle began from the ice, and I quickly began resealing it. I was successful, but there was a new problem.

The heat from the burn had warmed the cabin back up. The ice was melting faster than ever. Now began the war of attrition. It would take another four and a half hours to reach the ISS. Could we keep the cabin sealed that long?

After everything that had just transpired, it didn't seem impossible. We had made it this far. Somehow, we had survived through the worst. Nothing could stop us now.

Christa was examining the stone sticking out of the shard of ice. It was more exposed now. A good four inches protruded, and I could see a few more similar stones beginning to stick out beside it.

"I...I'm not sure if this is stone after all." Christa said nervously.

"What do you mean?" Asked Francis, floating to us from the front.

"Look. Now that the ice has receded this far, doesn't it look like fingers?" She asked.

"There's no way. Do you think a person is frozen in here or something?" He responded with a laugh.

I, on the other hand, had learned to trust Christa's instincts. I examined the stones closer. They were oddly positioned. Aside from being so hard and pointed, I could see the resemblance.

Francis examined the stones and scoffed.

"What living creature has hands like this? How would they have even gotten into orbit? Unless you're suggesting that this is an alien?" He said, dismissively.

"Of course not, but there is one creature on Earth with hands like this. I don't know how it could have gotten so far up here though. But if any creature could manage it, it would be them." She looked at me intently and suddenly I knew what she was saying.

"You think this is a Desolation, don't you?" I asked. She nodded her head.

"And how exactly do you imagine a Desolation would have gotten to orbit?" Asked Francis again. Christa didn't have a reply, but I did.

"It's not impossible Commander. Nothing is, with those creatures. How do we know they aren't flying into space all the time?"

Francis didn't seem to believe me. He opened his mouth to reply, but a distinct twanging of the strings tied to the ice distracted us. I looked to see one of the straps attached to stone was vibrating.

I held perfectly still, staring at the stone and waiting for movement. Nothing happened.

Then, just before I breathed a sigh of relief, the stone straightened out and the rope slid right off of it. We all watched in terror as the first knuckle of a finger bent stiffly into a 'come hither' motion. The movement sent droplets of water flying off.

A small crack began to grow in the ice directly above the finger.

That confirmed Christa's suspicions: not only was it a Desolation, but it was somehow still alive. I checked my watch.

Four more hours.

Would we make it that long?