The next few hours passed in a blur: After clearing their leftovers off the table, Quentin began his security procedure and went from node to node, to type in the lockdown sequence.
The Russians then brought out a series of exotic dishes that Pavel did his best to explain, despite the language barrier, and set up what was about to become their buffet. And although it couldn’t have been more than eleven thirty in the morning by Lori’s estimation, the first of the bottles began appearing.
“This is make from garden potatoes,” Matvey explained proudly, as he held up a bottle of transparent liquid, “with secret Russian technique!”
Rather unimpressive at first glance, it only took a small whiff from the cups held out before them for the Schwabs to realize just how wise Quentin had been, in locking them all inside.
“Wow, uhh…” Lori hesitated.
Surprised to be served alcohol, Sander did the same and looked to his parents.
“For Birthday on moon!” Matvey insisted, raising his own glass while Pavel, Sergei and even Quentin came to join him. “Sander and Lori... Happy Birthday, to great future!”
Evelyn looked to her husband, who bit his lip and turned to his kids.
“OK…” he sighed, coerced by the imminent toast. “But this is the only one.” He held up a stern finger, reaching for his cup.
With a nervous rush, the twins did the same and, as congratulations rang out inside the Firmament, Sander and Lori had their first sip of alcohol... which was soon regretted, as Lori immediately gagged and had a coughing fit. Sander did his best to breathe through the choking fumes that had invaded his throat, but tried to hide his discomfort and quickly wiped his watery eyes.
Evelyn too struggled to down the booze and, after regaining her wits, the trio shared an unspoken acknowledgement that a second round was out of the question. Barney, however, shook the poison down along with Quentin and the others.
“Wow... that’s a kick!”
“Be careful honey,” Evelyn whispered as they all returned to the table, worrying about her husband’s drinking while still not fully healed… but Barney just kissed her and went to sit closer to the Russians, already drawn into a convoluted debate.
And with each passing drink, the easier their words flowed.
“So wait, how did you guys get here?” Barney asked, thinking he had misunderstood Sergei’s patchy English.
“I tell you: We work for big…”
“Contractor,” helped Pavel, who’s face had already gotten a little pink.
“Contractor!” continued Sergei with an appreciative nod. “Military… That give us private order, very…” he held up a finger to his lips, to indicate secrecy. “Da?”
“OK…” Barney played along, still confused.
“What’s a private order?” Sander asked from the other side of the table, between bites of a particularly dry cabbage pie.
Sergei looked over and started to answer… but before he could get the words out, Quentin rested a hand on the man’s shoulder and offered some assistance.
“You mind if I explain?”
“Da, I- my English… Very bad.” Sergei shook his head, tired of fighting to find the right words.
Matvey said something to the effect of his Russian being just as bad, and the men erupted in laughter. In response, Sergei raised a playful middle finger and began serving them a new round of drinks, as Quentin took over the storytelling.
“It’ll just be easier. Thanks… ” he said, taking his refilled cup. “I already know the story. We talked about it right after they showed up.”
“Very suspicious, this man! He think we are like spion!” Matvey added, his finger wagging in Quentin’s direction as he remembered their first meeting.
“Spies” corrected Pavel, serving himself from a fish platter. “He thought we here for arrest him,”
“OK, hang on,” Quentin fired back. “To be fair, these guys showed up in a fancy-ass ship… not something a bunch of civilians should be able to build. I wasn’t being paranoid, just… cautious, considering my position…”
“You know, we might have seen you on our way in…” interjected Evelyn, politely refusing Sergei’s refill when he got to her. “Your ship, I mean.
“Possibly, you guys both landed on the light side. Anyways…” Quentin looked back to Sander. “By private order they mean a non-state actor hired them.”
“I don’t get it…” Barney admitted, still at a loss.
“Our boss very rich! He is like government, but not government: When he say make machine, we do,” Sergei attempted to explain.
“Their boss was like, this oligarch dude. Also known as philanthropists, in the West,” Quentin explained, rolling his eyes. “This guy got a hold of my specs and used his factory to build a ship on the down-low… so kind of like me, except with way less effort. Probably wanted to do business…” he smirked sourly, downing his glass after a quick salute to the no one in particular.
“So you all worked for the same guy?” Lori wondered aloud.
“Yes, is big company. Hundreds workers.”
“Oh, wow…” she answered, disappearing for an instant as her brother reached in front of her for more food. “But, so… why didn’t your boss come with you?”
“I’m getting to that…” replied Quentin with an ominous chuckle. “So you’ve got Sergei the welder… Matvey doing security and Pavel putting in orders.”
But at this point Pavel interrupted him, setting his empty glass down loudly.
“I am shipping clerk, yes?” he started, taking over the storytelling duties once more. “During project, I have list: What we need, how much, like that… and I make orders, check box when arrival… and one day, I see we have so many…” Pavel’s hands danced before him as if he was trying to grasp the words out of thin air. “It is not normal shipments. New materials, expensive parts… So I think, this is very strange, Da? Because I work there many years, and this is first time I see,” he concluded.
“For the spaceship…”
“Exactly. But this I don’t know… So I ask friend on development, what is doing? First there is big secret, he don’t say… And when he finally tell me, I don’t believe!”
Sharing an appreciative laugh, Barney held down a burp and asked.
“What’s her name?”
“Who? The ship?
“Strikaza,” Sergei chimed-in softly, trying to remain relevant in the conversation he’d started. “It is name for dragonfly, he has coll-”
“He has bug collection. This man so rich, he build famous museum in center Moscow for all his things… Animals, coin, paintings… it very stupid name,” Matvey finished his sentence.
“Da. So much money, he need way to spend! So always collection new things… ” Sergei shrugged.
“I guess that’s what happens when you get too rich!” jested Sander, catching Quentin’s eye with a hesitant glance.
“Hear, hear,” Quentin nodded, getting up from the table. “I’ll be right back…”
“So how did you get from ordering the parts to catching a ride?” Barney probed, desirous to hear the rest of their story.
Looking from face to face, he saw that both Matvey and Sergei had turned to Pavel, who didn´t appear too keen on continuing…
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing...” Pavel sighed, resuming his role as main narrator solemnly. “When ship is almost ready, there is big infection Moscow. First we think is just fever, but then hospitals full… and many many people sick, and many die…”
“You mean, like… a flu or-”
“They poison the meat!” claimed Matvey, as a fatigue settled over his comrades.
Then, and in apparent contradiction to his assertion, Sergei said something to Matvey in Russian… And as the men’s disagreement grew louder, the Schwabs regretted their interest.
“Let’s talk about something else!” prompted Evelyn, trying to deescalate.
“They bring from China, pig is black! Dead!” Matvey answered back, as if she had been following their argument.
“It doesn’t matter!” Pavel exclaimed, raising his voice as well. “Whatever is truth, we are scared to leave home and all factories shut.”
Realizing he was right, Matvey just sighed and poured the last of their current bottle in whichever glasses were empty, immediately reaching for a second from beside the table.
“We didn’t hear about any of this in the States…” Barney muttered, shocked by their tale.
“Of course not. TV only lies, everything is secret… national security!” Pavel deplored. “Same for us. We only see Vannevar fly on internet. Website, you know? And then is turn off.”
“Everybody stay home for weeks… but there is rumor that boss still want workers, and paying extra for special project… so I go,” Sergei continued, looking at the floor. “We finish exterior with small team, engineers work inside… And when they do tests, I understand this is for cosmos.” He waved a wand above his head dejectedly.
“You knew it was a spaceship…”
“Yes. It is spaceship,” Sergei repeated. “But that night I get home, and my son Sasha is in hospital. Wife tell me it is my fault... I go outside too much.”
“Sergei is friend from school,” Pavel added, patting his buddy. “He calls me, tells me problem with his boy… and hospital can’t help, because too many people, no medicine... But I know maybe solution. Thank you.”
Evelyn cleared the table and carried Pavel’s plate away, looking for an excuse to avoid the heavy turn that things had taken.
“I remember from order lists, I see many medicine… vitamins, pills for bring down fever, antibiotic… Everything needs for long trip. So next evening, we got to factory in middle of night.”
“And you let them in, right?” Sander asked Matvey, who had been quiet for the last few minutes.
The man nodded back and got up to use the bathroom. Sander watched him pass by, awaiting more of an answer… but when none came, he turned back to Pavel, who was still holding court.
“... so, we go when Matvey tell is safe… but inside, there is problem because I not know where medicine is kept. We look for hours, very carefully in middle of night… but suddenly there is sounds and people come, putting Strikaza on trucks.”
“With you inside...” Barney repeated, stunned by their account.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Da...”
“They drive, I don’t know where… for from Moskva,” Sergei added, backing up to let Matvey return to his seat.
“We are like mice, all day hiding in ship… Looking from window where we going. Soon there is no more buildings, and we are in big empty field… They attaching Strikaza to platform and start big noise VHHH… VHHH… VHHH!” intoned the large man, spreading and closing his arms like he was playing a giant accordion.
“Pumping fuel,” Pavel explained, helming their story once more. “Lights come on, computer, air… And then it make sense: shuttle is preparing for leave.” He rubbed his eyes, struggling with the painful memories. “Soon they try open door. And of course, we have locked… So we panic, yes?”
Barney and the twins had stopped eating, riveted by the Russians’ incredible testimony…
“They still don’t know we there, until Sergei look out window second time…”
All eyes had turned back to the bald little man at the end of the table, but Sergei just kept looking at the floor.
“It is not his fault” Matvey said, straightening himself in his chair upon realizing that they had all started staring at his friend. “We are adult. We know risk of giving help.”
“So they saw you,” Barney concluded, more as a statement than a question.
“Da… they see. But they don’t want break door and come get, because big boss is almost there! All ready to go, food, women, suitcase… ready to go. And no time for repair... So we are told to open door, or they find our family to hurt.”
“Jesus…” breathed Evelyn, on her way back from the galley.
“I cannot let that happen…” Pavel continued, meeting Barney’s gaze sorrowfully. “So I look where controls in ship, and many times hear launch procedure at work, over speaker phone… so I start sequence. It very simple, because is made for boss to use, and he not special trained as pilot…”
Pavel held up his fingers tiredly and went down checklist, now forever seared into his brain.
“Nitrogen purge, flight alignment… weather is good… internal power and suppression systems… So, da. We retract vents and turn engine switch…”
As the man fell silent and spooned himself some more food, the Schwabs hadn’t understood that he had reached the end of his story.
“Wait, so… You just blasted off?”
“We put seatbelts,” Sergei added apologetically, almost as if hoping to appear more sympathetic.
“How- With everybody right there?”
“We have no choice, we must leave before they find family,” Matvey concluded, cracking his neck while he spoke.
And suddenly, it dawned upon the Schwabs that the Russians had incinerated dozens of live people, during their departure. They exchanged a few awkward glances as the uncomfortable silence grew and grew… until finally, Barney spoke up to try and lighten the mood.
“So, uhh… Sounds like the…” he paused to remember the foreign name “Strikaza? Strikaza… She must have been quite the ship, if it was built for a billionaire!”
“Yes, it very big, very impressive… but lonely. And complicate to maintain without full staff…” Sergei explained. “We prefer take useful parts from ship and bring to campsite for Quentin and his people.”
Barney nodded back with a little sigh, and eventually excused himself to go to the bathroom. Not wanting to bear the conversational burden, Evelyn got up as well.
“Oh, hang on! Almost forgot…” she whispered to the twins, walking towards their sleeping quarters with a wink, “we got you guys a little something extra.”
Once she was out of sight, Sander quickly downed a shot that he’d been hiding under the table for the last twenty minutes and immediately began coughing again…
“That why we say, you must wait for toast!” grinned Sergei, as he began to pour another round… and this time, Lori held out her glass too.
Surprised by the gesture, Sergei raised an amused eyebrow but served her all the same.
“Thanks…” she smiled back, seizing the opportunity to ask what she hoped wasn’t too personal of a question. She looked down at the alcohol in her glass and chose her words carefully…
“Do you know if your son is OK? I mean, were you able to contact them?”
“My family? No…” Sergei answered with a sigh, slumping back in his chair.
“They don’t know you’re up here?” Lori pressed, looking to each of them… but they all shook their head.
“I don’t know if they alive, and they don’t know where we… it is very difficult situation.”
“Damn…” muttered Sander. “I mean, the flu is one thing... But- You’re sure your boss died, right? During takeoff?”
“I think so…” Matvey shrugged.
“We just don’t know,” Pavel said, in a tone that said it was maybe time to change subjects… But Sander’s second (or was it the third?) shot had begun to influence his judgement, and he was well beyond being able to pick up on such subtle clues.
“OK, well… But, so how did you guys know you weren’t actually sick? You know, when you showed up,” mused Sander, bouncing from one question to the next in his inebriated mind, without really even listening to their answers.
Lori kicked him under the table, but he just yelped and rubbed his shin before kicking his sister back.
“Ow, stop! Like, you could have been infected without knowing it… ” he looked to the Russians who stared back nonplussed, as if the thought hadn’t crossed their mind.
“I feel good for whole trip,” Pavel turned to his comrades, who both nodded back.
“Quentin make us wait in Strikaza until he run some medical tests… before accident, there was whole protocol for new people,” Matvey added, as Sergei began to say the same thing. “But we all clean!”
Laughing at the absurd scenario that had just popped up in his head, Sander blurted out, “Imagine: you come all the way to the moon… but you get here, and everyone’s straight up dead!” He cracked himself up, making a silly face and hiking hid arms up to mime a floating corpse. “And Quentin’s like: what the fuck!”
Embarrassed by her brother’s antics, Lori was glad to see her mother come back… and noticed the two little envelopes she was carrying.
“What is this?” Lori cooed, as all eyes turned to Evelyn.
“It’s not much, but this is kind of a gift from everyone… we’ve been talking it over,” she began, wrapping an arm around her husband as he too, came back to the table.
“Oh, we’re doing it now?” Barney interrupted, before being quickly silenced by the rest of Evelyn’s presentation.
“Yes. So we’ve talked it over and, well… we think it’s time.”
She handed the letters to both of her children, and watched their faces go from confusion to jubilation as the twins discovered a pair of shoulder patches, with their names embroidered underneath.
“Is this...” Sander asked, eyes shining.
“Quentin thinks you’re ready… So might as well make it official!”
“Oh my God… This is so cute, thank you!” Lori said, looking from her parents to the Russians and not knowing who to hug first.
“So wait, Quentin’s cool with it? He’ll show us how to suit up and go out and stuff?” Sander double-checked. “He said that?”
“If he’s busy I’m sure one of these guys could show us how it’s done,” Barney waved absentmindedly towards the Russians, while loading up his plate again. “But yeah, that’s what he said… Now that I’m out of bed and we’ve got extra crew we’ll go over the basics, do some practice runs... and voila!” he concluded, wiping his mouth from a particularly large bite.
“Speaking of which… Where is he?”
Lori’s words hung in the air, and they all suddenly realized that Quentin had disappeared for the last half hour.
“Huh… do you think he’s OK?”
Eyeing the cockpit, Evelyn went to knock on the door… but Sergei raised an arm on her way by.
“He is fine, he do this sometimes…”
“Are you sure? You guys been drinking a lot... He might-”
But Matvey immediately dismissed the idea.
“He is grown man… we barely starting! Look!” he claimed, downing his drink without so much as a grimace and serving himself another.
Unimpressed by the man’s drunken antics, Evelyn turned to Pavel as he began to speak.
“Don’t worry, he probably sleep,” Pavel reassured her. “He take pills, you see? Da… and it combine with alcohol, very sleepy.”
“Isn’t that dangerous? I mean, what are those pills?”
“Ah…” Matvey exclaimed, staring out into space as she uttered the question. “The magic pills…”
“Doesn’t mix well with drink,” Matvey finished, flicking his cup to make a dull tinkle.
Waiting for more explanations, the Schwabs eventually looked back to Pavel, when it became apparent that Matvey had nothing else to add... and with a sigh, Pavel complied.
“Look, I don’t talk about man when he cannot here…” He drew a line on the table between them as he spoke. “But I think Quentin is not hide what he doing. You have seen his habit.”
Reeled in by the new gossip, Evelyn sat back down.
“Yeah… what’s up with that?”
“He… was not always like that,” Pavel said slowly. “Remember first time we meet, when he take us from Strikaza?”
His comrades nodded back.
“Old Quentin very calm, very positive. And he prepare for many arrivals, but we are first,” Pavel smiled, thinking back. “Then after we land, new ship comes. Ten days later…”
Yet the more he spoke, the more the smile slid from his face.
“They make radio contact, say there is something wrong with oxygen compressor and they need help as soon as possible… So we prepare for emergency.” Pavel again fell silent, a slight frown straining his features. “But by time they land, all is dead.”
“They suffocated…” Evelyn whispered, in shock.
“Da… very hard to see,” Pavel agreed. “And was not only time this happen. Ever since, Quentin begin doubting himself, and eating pills… until he no longer live with us. Spending all days hiding in Firmament, searching for errors in design, or autopilot program.”
“I think, is not Quentin mistake! Most people get here OK. Spaceship just very complicate to make… and drive,” Matvey interjected, with a shake of his head. “For that, we lucky: Strikaza have no problems.”
With a quick glance among themselves, the Russians then marked a brief pause in their narration, as they silently debated what next to say.
“It- we having twenty-eight people at one point, you see…” Pavel offered “So, as you can imagine, in base things become ah… how to say, political?”
“How so?” pressed Barney, thinking that he´d perhaps misheard.
Leaning forward, Matvey looked to each member of the Schwab family in turn, his voice a mere growl.
“This… maybe you don´t bring up with Quentin, harasho? Because, is not really our story to tell…”
Apparently satisfied with their trustworthiness, he burped and proceeded.
“People, after month or two, they see Quentin not doing so good. He don´t leave ship… when he do, they see the pills… and they start talking, saying he depressed and should not be in charge. One man in particular: Yarvo, is real troublemaker. He come with two women, talking fast… very smart, just like him. Is like guru… You say this in English?”
“What, a guru? Yeah, of course…” Barney returned, noting the disdain with Matvey had uttered the person´s strange name. “You mean some kind of cult-leader, right? Manipulative, Svengali-type?”
“Yes, cult! This is it… he start to change how people see things, how they think of situation… and influence more and more. Blaming Quentin for every problems, making connections, saying Quentin is not king, that we come to moon for freedom, all this thing… and that we should vote for new leader, new rules…”
“New rules?” Lori scrunched her nose “Like what?”
Matvey met the teen´s inquisitive stare and shrugged sadly.
“Hyundai hit us next day. In cafeteria, during lunch…”
“Oh… damn.” She paused, surprised by the answer. “But- so how did you guys escape?
Smiling wryly, Sergei gave a little snort.
“Quentin is smart man, he see which way wind blowing… and that he is no longer wanted. So he decide to take Firmament and disappear, and leave camp for others… To be honest, I think I do same in his position: every day is more stress, complaints… and at this point he already sleep and eat alone… is good to let Yarvo deal with landings, and all this responsibility-”
“But is unhealthy, how Yarvo manipulate!” interrupted Pavel “Always for little thing… Yes, base sometimes get very cold when not in direct sunlight, OK. But he also make Quentin feel guilty for things outside of control! Very unfair!”
With a frown, Matvey agreed.
“Play games with words, and with mind...”
“Wait, wait… Quentin just abandoned everybody?” Lori pressed, trying to not get sidetracked.
“No, no, no… Not abandon: Igloo still full function,” Sergei reassured her. “He leave solar panels and generator, garden… everything. Is like gift… But big secret: Quentin tell no one of his plan except us, when he invite to ship for dinner one night. Only then, we understand it is actually goodbye when he talk of exploring new locations… and this difficult surprise, Quentin is friend! Even if unpopular with others. So, what to do?” he shrugged. “First, of course we try to convince… but Quentin is very sure of decision. So we play cards, talking, drinking… And lose track of time. But in morning, we hear terrible noise…”
“Is not like movies, you know… These people, when Hyundai damage dome, they have time to feel what is happen… Time to suffer, and crawl… ” Matvey grunted, vividly reliving that terrible day with each word “We put on suits as fast as possible, and go to help… but when structure start crumbling, and Quentin say we must leave-”
“Thank God Firmament have automatic pressure lock… or we would surely have asphyxiate like rest of them. We is still docked to base when it happen,” Pavel added, touching his forehead and his shoulders in little crossing gesture, as he looked to the floor´s retractable passage. “The next day, we salvage what we can… bury dead… and staying on dark side ever since, as far as possible from old camping area. Too many bad memories.”
As the weight of their tale settled over them, no one knew quite what to say.
“He was being voted off the island…” Sander eventually mumbled, rubbing his eyes after such intense revelations. “That´s super unfair.”
"OK, but what´s gonna happen when more people show up?" Evelyn asked, running the logistics of everything over in her mind.
"We come to meet, like always-"
"No I mean, how many more people can we fit in here?"
"Ahh… Da, is other reason: More time pass… and now Quentin believe his worst mistake is putting first base too close to landing zone. So now, we start build in safer area, far from everything, everyone… in old volcano, underground… and when this finish, then we only do taxi service." He winked. "Like for you!"
Intrigued by the man´s rather vague assurances, Evelyn was about to respond… but noticed the face her son was making, instead.
“Sander! How much have you had?”
Straightening up in his chair, Sander blinked a few times and tried to ignore his snickering sister. As they all started arguing, Barney pulled his chair closer to the table and spoke over the bickering.
“So… sports?” Barney grinned sardonically, taking another brave stab at conversation.
“My apologies, This is not sad celebration… just memories, you know?” Pavel responded with a smirk.
“Nah dude, I get it. It’s fine... crazy times. And thank God we left our madness behind… Matrix-goggles, bug cereal, fucking Owly… Hell, being jabbed and tagged like cattle, all of it… Oh, wait! You guys probably don´t even know about that!” Having misplaced his cup, Barney swiveled around for an instant at a loss, before Pavel found it and handed it to him. “Thanks… Have you- Can you guys get news and stuff, up here?”
“Da, da… Quentin is against, but sometimes we listen. Is always sad…”
“You got that right… OK then, I guess I’ll save our origin story for another time.”
“Like we say in Russia: only if it is full with joy, and beautiful women!” Matvey laughed.
Not exactly sure of what he meant, Barney looked to his wife, reached over and interrupted her with the tightest hug his sore chest allowed, extra grateful that they all got there in one piece…
“Well, I’ve got the most beautiful woman right here… and this one’s always good for a laugh!” Barney leaned in to tussle his son’s hair, as Sander pulled away.
“Da! No more dark stories! Let’s do toast!”
In a flurry of peer pressure, even Evelyn and the twins were served another shot… and just as the Russians began their speech, a glassy-eyed Quentin reemerged from his quarters to a general cheer.
The rest of the birthday faded into a series of mistranslated jokes, terrible singing, tipsy boasts and grandiose toasts… but eventually, the party petered out and everyone found their bed.
In her last lucid moments, as she flickered between the spinning mattress and her dreams, Lori once again visited the pyramids through the arch... And splayed beneath the constellations of her fluttering eyelids, the horned silhouette was back... screaming and writhing against the smoke, like the breaks of a speeding train.
In a strobe-light tunnel of churning, throbbing sand, Lori finally passed out.