The twins lowered into view and stepped off the dock… but strangely, found only their parents staring back at them from across the barren stone, half-obscured by the Godsend´s looming shadow.
“Where´s Quentin?”
Just as the question escaped Lori´s lips, he walked around the other side of the recently landed ship.
“Checking their airlock,” Barney answered, hopping closer as he spoke. “They´re claiming that they didn´t take any suits…”
“And now we get to go strip again,” their mother added, miffed to have changed for nothing.
“What?” Sander gawked, stunned at the temerity of travelling so far without proper equipment. “So… they, like- they flew here in jeans?”
“How the hell should I know…”
“Yeah, but… They`ll be stuck inside the whole time!”
As the shocked siblings gazed upon the Godsend with fresh eyes, Evelyn and Barney climbed back onto the Firmament´s lowered platform.
“Wait! Don´t you need our suits too? Lori blurted out, right before her father raised the dock.
But Barney shook his head and hit the button.
“Better have extra arms to carry their stuff onboard… Ask Quentin.”
Confronted with this frustrating change of plans, Lori looked past her brother as he began to whine about fairness… and noted that their host had never departed from the Godsend´s side, still in the throes of his conversation.
Remembering the radio instructions, Lori let curiosity get the better of her and, with a quick poke of the wrist, switched over to channel three. Instantly, a voice boomed into her headset, as someone called back in a south-African accent.
“-truly am sorry, Mister Vannevar! But we´re all adults here, we knew the risks!” the man apologized, speaking far too loudly. “And there were so many signs… I truly felt that we were held in the Lord´s bosom!”
Quentin shook his head in disbelief but kept his answer polite, although his body language exuded a drastically different story.
“Ok… forget it. We´re, uh… gonna get you suits.”
As if feeling Lori´s stare, Quentin looked over and said something inaudible, which reminded her to revert back to her own frequency.
“Well, so much for the new health protocols…”
“Sander, shut up!” Barney scolded from inside the ship, putting an end to the budding mother-son argument. “What did you say, Quentin?”
“Whatever. We need the suits.”
“Have them,” Evelyn replied curtly.
No sooner said than done, the dock lowered once more, with both folded spacesuits placed beside their respective helmets and topped-off oxygen tanks. Under Quentin´s supervision, the twins then carried everything over and stood back, to let him operate the Godsend´s exterior hatch.
“OK, do it fast,” he ordered, fighting the airlock´s suction as he pried the module open just enough, to release a torrent of misting vapor into the atmosphere-less sky. Seizing the moment, Sander jammed his cargo haphazardly into the ship and Lori did the same… only pausing once Quentin had resealed the door.
“Do we still need the stretcher?” Sander inquired, after straightening himself and noting that his parents had forgotten it. But Quentin had already redirected his helmet´s signal through the Firmament´s cockpit and was too busy updating the Russians on their evolving situation to pay him any mind.
Another minute passed in awkward anticipation, with Quentin retreating slightly towards the Firmament to get better reception, until a twist of the Godsend´s handle brought back his full attention: In a flood of rushing gas, the airlock swung open and two people slowly emerged from the craft, with their arms precariously full of towering provisions.
Lori and Sander hurried over to help, trying all the while to get a better view of their visitors… and discovered a pair of senior citizens smiling back!
“Oh- why thank you, God bless!” the man bellowed, handing his crate to Sander.
Even through Evelyn´s visor, the man´s piercing blue eyes stood out against a scruffy, wrinkled face that reminded Sander of old pictures he´d seen, taken during the Great Depression.
“The name´s Copland. Reverend Revis Copland… and this is my beautiful better half, Sherry.”
Placing her load momentarily on the floor, Lori noted that the woman seemed to sport the same freckled, wind-swept look as her husband… and backed-up to give Quentin some room.
“Mister Vannevar, in the flesh! Such a pleasure to finally meet.”
Quentin lowered his earphones even more and, cringing under the auditory assault, walked up to shake the stranger´s hand.
“Yeah… Call me Quentin,” he grimaced. “Wasn´t there someone hurt onboard?”
“What´s that? Gotta speak up!”
Faced with a general bewilderment at her husband´s reaction, Sherry had to intervene.
“You´ll have to forgive him… It´s Revis,” she began, stepping between the men. “He had a little accident with the radio during our flight, and lost some hearing.”
“Ah. That… actually, that explains a lot,” Quentin paused, comprehending why their communications had been so spotty. “Let´s get onboard and check out those ears.”
With a concerned glance to the grinning and somewhat oblivious reverend, Quentin told the twins to finish loading their guests´ affairs, and took them towards the dock.
“So, how many more you got in there?” he joked, cutting Sherry off as she helped her husband understand what was going on.
The Coplands rose into the ship and must have removed their helmets, because their answer fizzled out… but it soon became abundantly clear what the Godsend´s spare compartment had been used for, and that both teens could have also disrobed to speed things along.
Instead, Sander and Lori found themselves ferrying the same two spacesuits back and forth betwixt both vessels, trapped in a seemingly endless clown-car procession of extra passengers and miscellaneous supplies:
First came Revis´ son Pieter, who despite expressing the same warm greetings as his father,albeit in a softer tone, and being at least twenty years younger, never actually attempted to haul his own luggage.
“We have heavy stuff, where are the rest of you?” his wife asked, evidently gifted with even worse manners than those of her husband.
But neither adolescent possessed the energy to point out the stupidity of her request, as Sander was now also experiencing the same light-headedness that had overtaken his sister hours earlier, and simply switched radio channels away from the silly question.
“Quentin...” he wheezed, abandoning the gradually uncoiling length of cable that he´d been holding to take a knee, “We´re dying out here… Can we use the booster for all this shit?”
“It´s still not charged enough, sorry guys,” Barney buzzed back. “Everyone´s in the infirmary…”
“Of course they are…” Lori muttered. “Hey, I got it. Take a break.”
Helping her brother up, she spooled-up the last few feet of wire and walked it over to Pieter, as the couple waited to enter the Firmament.
This let Sander catch his breath and, when the dock came back down, he joined his sister for another round of suit-delivery… only to witness perhaps the oddest pairing of the afternoon, as an elderly man eventually wobbled out of the Godsend, clutching a second figure for support.
Thankfully, neither of them had many bags nor bothered to introduce themselves, which made the experience faster and less stressful than the previous trips, as the twins needed solely to help unfold their wheelchair and point the way.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
And then there was Uncle Lood.
Laden with what appeared to be an entire television studio between him and his wife Amelia, Revis´ brother lacked any of the Copland charisma, jealously guarding his broadcast equipment against any offer of assistance and indeed, going so far as to push the dock´s button himself…
So by the time everyone and everything had been herded into Quentin´s ship, both teens were far too exhausted to do much else besides take off their gear, and stare at the peculiar, almost Amish-looking crowd that had amassed in their common area.
Their gaze danced over the exceedingly old man, asleep in his wheelchair… his middle-aged, pimply assistant, that never maintained eye-contact… Surly Lood and his equally dour wife, glaring around as if expecting to be attacked... and interestingly, it seemed as though they´d all worn their heaviest winter clothes to survive the ill-prepared voyage.
“Yo… is she-” Sander whispered, noticing Mieke´s swollen belly beneath her coat as his father re-entered the room.
“Four waters, coming right up!” Barney said, distributing glasses as he moved through the now suit-less congregation. “You´re going to want to sit down once we start moving. I think they´re almost done with Revis…”
“Can we see him?” asked Pieter, taking a cup. “Where is he?”
Barney however, had also become preoccupied by the sight of the woman´s evident gestation, and took a second to respond.
“Uh, they´re… they´re- we have a med-bay…” he stammered, with a glance to the hall.
Right on cue, the passage opened to reveal the Copland patriarch, with cotton bandages plugging both of his ears.
“And two by two, they entered the arch -or, the Firmament should I say,” Revis smirked, upon seeing his family. “See? That wasn´t so hard! My goodness, Quentin… This ship: it´s amazing!”
“It´s the food I´m worried about, Revis,” Quentin grumbled, eyeing the supplies that they´d piled up near the entrance. “Unless you guys eat… what is that, battery cells?”
Winking back as Evelyn and his wife caught up to them, it was unclear whether the man had heard him… but it was safe to assume that their treatment had worked at least in part, as the Reverend now spoke with half of his initial power.
“So now that everyone´s here, please allow me to introduce my flock!” he began, joining his family as they gathered around him in the suddenly cramped quarters. “Some of you have already met my brother Lood, and Amelia… This is Patrick, my father-in-law. But we just call him Peepah...”
Revis reached over to pat him affectionately on the thigh, which woke the old man up with a cough.
“Had to take him along, bucket list and such… and there´d be no one left to care for the poor bloke otherwise!” Revis explained, becoming almost clinical as he rambled on, “which brings us to Bobby… and kind of the same story, really. He´s been with us since, oh… right around the World Cup?”
He glanced at his wife to confirm, and continued,
“Yeah, helping with the show and such... Used to be with a little church in Johannesburg before getting transferred to our custody. Not very verbal, but gentle as a goose… And he certainly gets along with Peepah!”
The more Revis spoke, the harder it was to understand his off-tempo cadence and foreign pronunciations, especially with no radio to mediate the exchanges… not that it mattered much, considering Quentin had finally spotted Mieke.
“Wait… are you fucking kidding me?” he interrupted, stopping Revis cold.
“Language, please.”
“She´s pregnant, Revis!” Quentin screeched, ignoring Pieter´s pitiful interjection as he counted down each offense on his fingers. “You don´t follow my designs, you don´t even have a single suit for the eight of you… and now this? Are- are you trying to die?”
Yet rather than get caught up in his host´s emotional outburst, the Reverend took a deep breath.
“We did the best we could, armed with our faith… and the Almighty provideth. What more can I say?”
“Do any of you know how to deliver a child?” Quentin demanded, incensed at the man´s lackadaisical response.
“You invited us here,” admonished Lood, in a raspy voice that Lori remembered from the Godsend´s descent. “You offered assistance in any way possible… Are you not a man of your word?”
Too stunned to answer, Quentin turned blankly to the Schwabs for support.
“I… think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot…” Evelyn started, unable to withstand the lengthening silence any longer.
Every eye in the room settled on her, and she shrunk back against Barney.
“I mean…” Evelyn swallowed, trying to lower the simmering tension, “this should be a happy day, we should..”
Before she could finish, Sergei´s voice drowned her out from the cockpit´s radio.
“Quentin. We ready.”
His glare lingering on Lood, Quentin gulped down a pill and walked off, letting the cockpit doors slide shut behind him unceremoniously…
“Where´s he going?” Revis asked, bewildered at the turn of events from behind his bandages. “What´s going on?”
As Sherry filled her husband in on what had just transpired, Barney took the initiative of collecting their empty beverages and informed the Coplands (and Bobby) about the last leg of their trip, quite glad to change topics.
“So… this isn´t your base?” Amelia scowled, nodding to the ship around them as it vibrated to life.
“No, well… it is, uh-” Barney hesitated, unsure of how to best summarize their living arrangements, while avoiding the unpleasantries of referencing Quentin´s original encampment. “Like I said, this new place is bigger…”
“And it´s under a volcano,” she repeated, just as dubiously.
“It´s in part of a lava tube, near a long-dormant volcano… Yes.”
Revis soon caught up to speed and gave a gracious little bow to Evelyn, which totally shifted the room´s atmosphere.
“Now that´s wisdom… You´re very right, ma´am. This is a day of celebration: Let us pray!”
To a general murmur of agreement, his group slowly manoeuvred themselves into a ring, crouching in the moving ship as they linked hands.
“Would you like to join us?” Revis beamed, holding his palms out.
Trapped by the forwardness of the gesture, not to mention the Coplands´ new positions, neither parent could summon the nerve to refuse… which created the perfect opportunity for the twins to slink off to their bunks, in avoidance of the nascent prayer-circle.
And so their surreal drive began, with Barney and Evelyn awkwardly reciting psalms for the next half-hour, while Quentin remained shuttered in the cockpit.
No longer surrounded by strangers, Lori´s mind reflexively returned to their baffling bunker… and she zoned out, lost in her imagination until the Firmament´s deceleration brought her back to the present.
“Dude, let the Russians handle it…” Sander coughed, watching his sister wearily as she climbed out of bed. “We´ve done enough.”
Still dazed from their efforts, Lori leaned on the door-frame and waited for the ship to come to a complete stop, before plopping back down.
“Yeah, you´re right!”
But unfortunately, their parents had other plans… and replaced Revis´ distant, monotonous preaching with calls for their children to join them.
“God…”
Sander rolled his eyes, cursing under his breath, and dutifully hollered back as Lori followed him out of the room… Only for Quentin to immediately wave them away from the crowded dock, and into the garden.
“OK… they´re using your suits, so you guys can assist me with this.”
As he spoke, Quentin knelt down to unscrew part of the wall and, after delicately removing the grate, pointed to a long, green tube of murky water.
“We need to transfer the algae in these ampoules to-”
“Ampoules?” Sander frowned, watching as Quentin carefully slid the glass container out of the compartment and placed it beside them.
“The pipes. This circuit runs all around the ship and helps convert our carbon-dioxide back into breathable air. That, along with the carbon-filters…” he clarified, putting the grate back in place and handing them his screwdriver. “Here: I need another six… And try to spread out, don’t take them all from the same spot.”
Surprised to learn that the Firmament´s modest, aquamarine floor-lights were in fact a web of tiny photosynthesis chambers, Lori reached over to inspect the thin, tubular receptacle.
“Real slow now…” Quentin coaxed. “You´re holding part of our life-support system right there. It´s like one of the ship´s arteries…”
Unimpressed by the grimy turquoise sludge, Lori scrunched her nose.
“Then… Are you sure we should be giving this away? I thought we were low on power…”
“I mean, we´re running on a hybrid engine, so between the solar panels and what´s left of the hydrogen, we should be good… Don´t worry, we´re only going to give them a couple of gallons for their starter cells anyway. Shouldn´t impact our biofuel too heavily…” he reassured her, cringing ever so slightly as she passed the aquarium to her brother. “Plus, these little critters clone so fast… if we didn´t consume their surplus, it would clog the network! So might as well-”
“Wait, what?” Sander did a double-take, almost dropping the elongated container. “You- You´re feeding us… pond scum?”
“Damn it!” Quentin flinched, snatching the tube away as he reopened his eyes. “Be careful, Sander! Yes… That pond scum is considered a super-food, according to its mineral and vitamin content. We´ve been supplementing our meals with it since we landed!”
Sensing that the twins were becoming distracted, Quentin returned to his feet with a sigh and stretched.
“Look, it doesn´t matter: just do what I said, and meet me at the dock in like…” he checked his watch, “twenty minutes. And I´ll get ready…”
“Sure…”
The greenhouse doors slid shut behind their host as he departed, revealing during their momentary aperture that some of the Coplands had already finished suiting up in the common room… and Lori shared a bemused look with her brother.
“Hey, at least it´s better than carrying stuff…” she shrugged, getting to work.
Sadly, thirty minutes and five algae-tubes later, Lori realized that she had spoken a little too hastily, as Quentin barged back into the garden with his spacesuit, peeved at their tardiness.
“Guys… get it going! What´s the hold up?”
“It´s hard! Ok?” Lori snapped back, almost losing her temper. “I don´t know!”
“Just take those,” Sander muttered, rising from some plants on the other side of the room.
“Oh! There you are…” Quentin gave a little start, turning towards the previously unnoticed teen and counting his pile. “Yeah, you´re uh… one short. What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” the teen seethed, obviously nursing some sort of finger injury.
“He got zapped by one of th-” Lori began… but Sander angrily cut her off.
“I´m fine!” he yelled back. “I´m just taking a break.”
Quentin walked over to inspect his burn, ribbing Sander all the while for having somehow managed to confuse a valve with a plug… and eventually came over to help Lori.
“Can´t get it?” he laughed, removing his gloves and taking her spot to reach into the wall. “You just push it like this… and…” he fiddled blindly, feeling his way. “Hang on… Oh wow, yeah this one is kinda stuck…”
His charade continued far longer than desired, with both sibling taking a non-negligible pleasure in witnessing their typically smug captain´s growing frustration… until Quentin was forced to concede that their measly five vials might indeed suffice.
“Fuck it, they´ll make do…” he grunted in exasperation. “Come on, let´s fit those in the trolley.”
Letting him lead the way, Sander and Lori followed Quentin to a dolly near the dock, where he sealed the precious liquid inside… and couldn´t help but be struck by the eerie calm, left in the Coplands´ wake.
“So, that´s it? They´re gone?” Sander wondered, failing to locate their mountain of supplies.
“Still moving everyone in, but yeah… I guess you could say that,” Quentin answered, as he shoved his helmet on and prepared the lift. “These next weeks are going to be the toughest, bringing them stuff and fixing whatever goes wrong… But I´ll move us closer tomorrow, so we´re only about a football field away.”
They watched him descend, speculating if they were free to go… and were startled by their mother´s cry as it pierced the newfound silence.
“Alright, set the table and wash up!”
Evelyn rounded the corner with some plates and froze.
“Where is everybody? I thought I heard the dock…”
“Nope, just us!” Lori livened up, enchanted by the smell of what she was holding “What for dinner?”