on its course, ejecting a mixture of carbon dioxide and hydrogen gas from the intense heat of the yellow star at the center of this small solar system. Nomad passed Mars, and as the heat of the yellow sun intensified, more and more of its ice melted. A large piece of ice shattered, and a small metal object ejected from the comet’s surface, its computer firing the ship’s engines with precision timing to avoid the vast debris field of ice and rock strewn across its path. The craft was battered and beaten, yet it remained operational. It headed towards the earth, and at its maximum speed, it would take months to get there.
The small vessel pulled away from Nomad, and the nuclear-powered heaters inside the cabin began to compensate for the extreme cold. Ever so slowly, the temperature rose and life support within the cabin was gradually reactivated. The onboard computer assessed the body frozen solid in the DSC unit and ran countless simulations on how to thaw it safely, settling on a plan to defrost the body gradually over a six-month period. The computer also slowed the engines and entered orbit around Mars. Nomad continued its lonely trek back into deep space. Perhaps, if the comet survived, its orbit would bring it back to this sector of the Milky Way in another fifty thousand years.
* * *
Six months after the shuttle broke loose from Nomad and entered an orbit around Mars, a weak magnetic storm shook the craft. Inside, a man slept in suspended animation on a metal cot in a clamshell-shaped cryonic chamber. The vibrations from the storm continued, and the man stirred. Suddenly, his eyes blinked open. The light in the module was intensely bright. He had no idea where he was, and it took several minutes before he figured out who he was. He was lying on his back in the closed shell of the DSC. He heard a hum and felt excruciating pain as the needles embedded in his skull retracted. Lights on a nearby panel blinked rapidly. The man tried to roll over but was too weak to complete the action. His muscles were sore and numb; it felt like he hadn’t used them in weeks. Little did he realize that he had not stood and flexed his muscles for thousands of years. As a wave of vertigo hit him, he began sweating profusely.
After about an hour, the man’s memory drifted back. With tremendous effort, he rolled onto his side. The clamshell opened, and he inhaled stale air. Touching his face and head, he discovered he had a full beard and two feet of tangled black hair extending down his back. He still wasn’t thinking clearly, so it didn’t register in his mind that something was amiss.
When Synthea sensed Wolf had awakened, she activated the artificial gravity and opened the DSC. Thirty minutes later, he made it up into a sitting position. He lurched to his feet and stumbled to the captain’s chair, falling into it. Dizzy and out of breath, he pressed the communicator button and tried to talk but only managed a choked squawk. He swallowed hard, trying to make saliva in his mouth to alleviate the dryness. Finally, he uttered a few sounds. “At…Atl…Atlantis to ISS, do you copy?” The words rattled out as if he had been a smoker for years. He tried again. “Atlantis to ISS, do you read me?”
Wolf reached out and initiated a channel scan, listening for sounds of civilization, but he heard only the crackling emptiness of static. He spooled up the positioning computers and attempted to power on the long-range cameras, but they didn’t respond. The positioning computer confirmed that he was orbiting Mars. He would need to wait several hours before he could use the ship’s telescope to view Earth. Turning on the radio, he looped his original transmission to MBR, ISS, and Earth every two minutes. Then he eased back in the chair and closed his eyes for a few seconds.
Two hours later, Wolf awoke to intense pain and cramping in his legs. He forced himself out of the chair and walked unsteadily to the commissary to find something
The small vessel pulled away from Nomad, and the nuclear-powered heaters inside the cabin began to compensate for the extreme cold. Ever so slowly, the temperature rose and life support within the cabin was gradually reactivated. The onboard computer assessed the body frozen solid in the DSC unit and ran countless simulations on how to thaw it safely, settling on a plan to defrost the body gradually over a six-month period. The computer also slowed the engines and entered orbit around Mars. Nomad continued its lonely trek back into deep space. Perhaps, if the comet survived, its orbit would bring it back to this sector of the Milky Way in another fifty thousand years.
* * *
Six months after the shuttle broke loose from Nomad and entered an orbit around Mars, a weak magnetic storm shook the craft. Inside, a man slept in suspended animation on a metal cot in a clamshell-shaped cryonic chamber. The vibrations from the storm continued, and the man stirred. Suddenly, his eyes blinked open. The light in the module was intensely bright. He had no idea where he was, and it took several minutes before he figured out who he was. He was lying on his back in the closed shell of the DSC. He heard a hum and felt excruciating pain as the needles embedded in his skull retracted. Lights on a nearby panel blinked rapidly. The man tried to roll over but was too weak to complete the action. His muscles were sore and numb; it felt like he hadn’t used them in weeks. Little did he realize that he had not stood and flexed his muscles for thousands of years. As a wave of vertigo hit him, he began sweating profusely.
After about an hour, the man’s memory drifted back. With tremendous effort, he rolled onto his side. The clamshell opened, and he inhaled stale air. Touching his face and head, he discovered he had a full beard and two feet of tangled black hair extending down his back. He still wasn’t thinking clearly, so it didn’t register in his mind that something was amiss.
When Synthea sensed Wolf had awakened, she activated the artificial gravity and opened the DSC. Thirty minutes later, he made it up into a sitting position. He lurched to his feet and stumbled to the captain’s chair, falling into it. Dizzy and out of breath, he pressed the communicator button and tried to talk but only managed a choked squawk. He swallowed hard, trying to make saliva in his mouth to alleviate the dryness. Finally, he uttered a few sounds. “At…Atl…Atlantis to ISS, do you copy?” The words rattled out as if he had been a smoker for years. He tried again. “Atlantis to ISS, do you read me?”
Wolf reached out and initiated a channel scan, listening for sounds of civilization, but he heard only the crackling emptiness of static. He spooled up the positioning computers and attempted to power on the long-range cameras, but they didn’t respond. The positioning computer confirmed that he was orbiting Mars. He would need to wait several hours before he could use the ship’s telescope to view Earth. Turning on the radio, he looped his original transmission to MBR, ISS, and Earth every two minutes. Then he eased back in the chair and closed his eyes for a few seconds.
Two hours later, Wolf awoke to intense pain and cramping in his legs. He forced himself out of the chair and walked unsteadily to the commissary to find something
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