Faster Than Light

Worm hole 

Noun 

A hypothetical connection between widely separated regions of space-time, permitting faster-than-light travel and sometimes time travel. 

 

Faster than light my ass. Tadashi closed the dictionary book for the sixth time that day, groaning. It felt like weeks since his blind-as-a-bat boss thrust their entire crew into this pocket of space-time, even though it had only been one day. Whoever let that mess in front of the wheel had to have been smoking za. Or, at the very least, didn’t want to anger the bratty CEO into a fit of rage. At least the second was understandable. Tadashi looked down to his lap. His little tyke was asleep, head resting in the crook of his shoulder, his breath puffing at his space suit.  

Bringing his little boy was a mistake. That was obvious. But, well, when you work with the shadiest CEO that will let anything bypass if enough money was slid into his pocket, and the only thing you live for anymore is your 7-year-old boy, what other choice do you have?  

The door behind him rattled violently. It was pitifully flimsy compared to that of a normal spaceship. It creaked and leaned behind a figure’s foot, and each time it did so Tadashi cursed himself for picking this company of all places to apply to. The number of shortcuts that cheapskate got away with was astounding. As the bottom of the door was kicked at, letting slivers of light into the room repeatedly from the force, Tadashi winced and held his son a little tighter. ‘What other choice do you have?’ Well... Probably give him to your brothers? Or place him in foster care? Or put him with his great grandparents? Anything would’ve been better than this death trap. Anything would’ve been better than this right here – being about one foot from slaughter, with your only protection being one of those fucked up hollow plywood doors. The banging wasn’t letting up. Tadashi sat back in his seat and put his head in his hands. 

That wormhole had messed with their radio. As the Telecommunications specialist, Tadashi was tasked with keeping their radio connected to Earth and keeping regular communication with their team back in Toledo. Since that bozo crashed their shuttle into spacetime, though, they were left in complete isolation. Then, when a mystery member of their crew went berserk and began murdering people, the best way to protect his son was obviously to hole up in his office and barricade the door, start radioing control, get a rescue squad, maybe. But after over twenty-four hours of staring at a buzzing radio and praying, his plan A yielded no results. There was no help coming and Tadashi couldn’t handle being a sitting duck anymore. They needed food. They needed water. There was no work that he could do here.  

Tadashi took a look around the tiny office room. It felt more like a closet than a real office space, with a desk that spanned one entire wall, and office drawers and bookshelves covering the wall behind him. There was the main door, the one that was being kicked in, but beside it, behind those shelves, was another door that looked much less renovated. There was no other place for this door to lead to. It had to also be the hallway. Tadashi stood quickly and sat his son in his chair, before grabbing the bookshelf. With some strain he pulled it to the floor so that it covered the increasingly volatile entryway. It covered one door and revealed another fully. Sure enough, the mystery door was full length, with a flimsy wooden knob. Seeing that, he grabbed his son and held him to his chest uncertainly. Tadashi threw the second door open.  

The door flew off its hinges, The futuristic metal tile in the high-tech entryway apparently just being wallpaper, and the old wood hit his assailant directly in the face. It shrieked, stunned. Tadashi didn’t know whether to thank his boss for being cheap enough to keep a rusted old door installed or curse him for making sure their massive space ship wasn’t OSHA certified, but he took his chance. He stumbled out of the door and ran for his life. 

His footsteps thundered in the hallway, his blood pumping even louder in his ears, his breath unsteady. Cardio wasn’t his friend, and holding a 50-pound child was making it even worse, but adrenaline overpowered his burning limbs and he ran. And ran. And ran. The squeal of rubber soles burned marks into the ground behind him, pursuing him quickly. Tadashi turned a corner, his body sliding into the wall from his momentum, and a large hand sprung out from the safety of an open door to snatch him.  

Tadashi squealed in panic when it grabbed and yanked him inside. He and his son were thrown into a small room. Tadashi hit the wall with a grunt and cowered a little, covering his son with his body. The door slammed shut behind them. When a few seconds ticked by, and he hadn’t been mauled, Tadashi turned his head to see who had pulled him inside.  

Dr. Reckless Callihan had his back against the door, holding it shut with his shoulder, and, despite the figure banging on the door with conviction, his face was steeled and his breathing was calm. After a few scratches and screams at the door, the figure seemed to give up. The oxygen specialist closed his eyes then and sighed through his nose, letting himself relax. 

“Oh my god,” Tadashi said, and grinned wearily. “Reck, Holy fuck, am I glad to see you!” 

The other man stood there stoic; his face pulled into a scowl. Dr. Callihan was never the speaking type. He always stuck to himself, pulled away from the civilization of their board meetings back on earth, and instead distracted himself with the only work he was paid for: ensuring that their oxygen supply was working correctly. Quiet quitting at its finest. Tadashi had to admire it.  

Really, the only person who Reck had ever spoken to was Tadashi himself. And even then, it was only two or three words. 

“You’re alive,” Reck said, his deeper voice completely monotone. He stated it like it was fact, but his brows rose and his tired, baggy eyes widened a little at the sight. Relief flooded Tadashi’s senses, the adrenaline starting to lower, and he sat his kid on the floor and moved to hug the bigger man, instead. 

“Thanks to you,” Tadashi said. Reck stood rigid. When Tadashi looked up to his coworker again, there was a faint flush to his tan poker face. “What are you doing here?” Tadashi’s voice fell to a whisper, “I thought you’d be in the oxygen chamber?” Reck put a hesitant hand on Tadashi’s shoulder.  

“To find you,” Reck said, then gestured to Tadashi’s son, “and him.” Tadashi smiled. He and Reck had been a little buddy-buddy back on earth. Or, well, Tadashi used to follow him around everywhere, bothering him in all his training activities, and Reck seemed to tolerate him. It was nice to know that Reck even remembered him. He squeezed Reck’s bicep. 

“It’s fucking terrifying out there,” He said, eyes darting to the door, “What’s even going on? What happened to them?” Reck looked apprehensive. 

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, though, the lights in the room went red. An alarm began blaring in their ears, screeching.  

 

Oxygen Levels Depleting. Replenish Oxygen Supply Immediately. Oxygen Levels Depleting. Replenish Oxygen Supply Immediately. 

 

Reck grunted in pain and covered his ears with both his hands. Tadashi took a step back and moved to grab his son again. Reck looked down to Tadashi. Tadashi looked up to Reck. They stared at each other in shock. Without oxygen, everyone on the ship would suffocate. Reck’s breath caught in his throat, the sudden changes, the bright lights, the ear-piercing sounds were making him dizzy. Tadashi smacked at his chest lightly. 

“C’mon, big guy, we’ve gotta go!” Tadashi said, breaking their silence first. He grabbed his son and stuck him at his hip. Tadashi’s panicked words snapped Reck back into reality. He opened the door for them. Tadashi ran out first, grabbed Reck’s hand, and out they went. 

 

Yesterday 

 

The greenhouse was a structure located just above the navigation room of their ship. It was a bright room of fluorescent lights, and used real plants to create oxygen and filter out the carbon dioxide of the ship. Phytoplankton covered the walls in long, thin aquariums. A large garbage disposal on the side wall was there to dispose of waste into space. The greenhouse itself was protected by a decontamination chamber. And, finally, on the edge of the room, was one of the most protected doors in the ship. The metal lockable oxygen chamber door. Dr. Callihan filled a watering can in the sink, feeling more tired than he had ever been. 

This mission they were put on – the entire reason they were in space in the first place – was to colonize a new planet. Why else would they need so many people? Why else would they need a biochemist like him, a zoologist, an archeologist, or a weapons expert? At least, that was what their boss told them. 

The first body was discovered that morning. It was in the navigations chair, a mangled mess of wounds all over. It appeared half-eaten.  

Chaos had broken out in the remaining crew. The idea that one of them, someone that they had worked with for four years at least, could commit such a heinous crime, was unfathomable. And they were stuck here, trapped in a vast pit of nothing with them. Reck cared. Of course, he did. But Reck’s job wasn’t able to halt like the others. He had to keep his crewmates alive. 

Their zoologist, Dr. Tanya Brown, walked through the decontamination chamber, interrupting his thoughts. 

“Hey,” she said, walking closer to him with her hands behind her back. Reck whipped around to stare her down. She smiled nervously, her freckles bending along her dimpled cheeks. Her Bantu knots looked a little messy from the panic of the morning. As if to make herself appear more disarming, she stuck her hands up in the air in surrender. “Sorry, sorry, I know, I won’t bother you too much, could I just ask you something?”  

Reck narrowed his eyes at her, but let her continue. He moved to water the flowers in the center of the greenhouse. Tanya came a little closer.  

“Sooo... remember when we were first coming into the wormhole, and we passed by a big asteroid, and I went out to take a little sample since we were stuck anyway?” 

Reck remembered. He moved on to watering a bush. 

“Well, it had life on it! Exciting right?” she said, touching the top of the greenhouse bench with both hands. “It was these little red things, almost like mites, right, except, um, I went back to my office this morning and I couldn’t find it anywhere. The container I put them in.” 

Reck paused. He turned back around. The silence was palpable, his wide eyes making her squirm. She chuckled nervously. 

“Do you know where it went?” 

 

Present 

 

The decontamination chamber was busted to high hell. The rubber seals were ripped to shreds, the glass shattered, the air blowing through blatantly. Tadashi could feel Reck sag from disappointment at his ruined work. That couldn’t be helped, though. Reck took off ahead of him and stepped through the shattered chamber, glass crunching under his feet. While Reck ran to his machinery to replenish the oxygen of the ship manually, Tadashi looked around frantically for the oxygen chamber. 

The door was intact. Tadashi blew past Reck and pulled at the metal door, running in and closing it behind him.  The lock slid into place like a glove. The loud commotion became muffled by the airtight door. 

His loud breaths were deafening. Tadashi sunk to the ground and whimpered into his son’s suit. The boy’s snoring continued. Finally, he was safe.  

“How the hell do you sleep through all this?” He murmured, touching his son’s back with his hand. The alarm continued to blare. That’s... weird. Reck should have typed the code in by now. Then, something hit the door hard. Tadashi jumped and looked up at the little window in the door. 

Two figures were fighting tooth and nail, slamming each other into walls, grabbing at necks, at arms, pulling hair. Tadashi could feel his heart drop. He looked to his son, asleep, peaceful in his arms, then to the fighting. Then to his son again.  

His son was his everything. He was the only reason Tadashi was alive anymore. With no oxygen circulating, and Tadashi’s helmet having been discarded at his office long ago, he would die either way. But if he locked himself from the inside, his son would at least be safe. 

Tadashi hardened his gaze a little. No. He couldn’t coward himself away in another small room and let his son be alone without a fight. Reck was strong, stronger than him, and if Tadashi could just give him the advantage, then this was a battle they could win. He laid his son on the ground, obscuring him from sight of the door. And, with a shaky breath, he swung it back open. 

 

Reck snarled, his throat having been snatched and squeezed by their own boss. In the blaring red light, the boss’ face was wretched and mangled. His skin writhed unnaturally as he moved, like a skin suit. He had one of their weapon expert’s knives in one hand. He was groaning, snarling, shrieking in a way that vocal cords couldn’t replicate. Reck had the boss’ hand tight in his own, and was trying to hold the knife away from himself. He had slits and slices along his cheeks and on his suit.  

Tadashi did the first thing he could, which was to slam their supervisor with all the force of his body, sending him stumbling into an aquarium of phytoplankton. Their boss tipped it over and sent water and glass crashing everywhere.  

Reck gasped for breath, having been let go, and touched at his own neck in shock. He had no time to recover, though. Their boss was already stumbling back up, his bones appearing to clack out of place to stand. Tadashi wanted to throw up. Something like mites, red and tiny, crawled just underneath the boss’ skin in waves. He, or, well, it, was charging again, now, aiming for Tadashi. Tadashi scuttled back against the wall when it began charging, and pressed a button when his back hit the dumb cheap wallpaper. The garbage disposal door opened. Reck snatched their boss’ body by the shoulders and threw it against the wall, by the garbage disposal.  

“Grab it!” He yelled, at Tadashi. Reck snatched one of his legs and started trying to hoist him into the garbage disposal, grabbing the arm holding the knife. Tadashi couldn’t stop to think. The depleting oxygen was making him dizzy. He stumbled forward to join him and grabbed the other leg, lifting with everything he had.  

The only thing that their cheapskate boss seemed to get right was functionality in the greenhouse. Maybe because Reck knew his shit well enough to call him out on any missteps. When they threw him into the garbage disposal he fit right in, his body just big enough to take up all the space inside. Tadashi had never closed a door so quickly in his life. He slammed the door shut and locked it quickly, Reck holding his body against it. Tadashi, practically suffocating now, nearly fell into the start button.  

Awful crunching and grinding erupted from behind the door. A loud, nearly human scream bubbled from the chute. Reck hesitantly backed off from the door, and moved to fix their oxygen levels.  

Finally, the siren stopped. They were left in darkness. Tadashi let out a cracked sigh. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and all he had left was to stand and stare in shock. Reck watched him fall apart with unsteady breathing. 

“Fuck, dude...” Tadashi said, his voice unsteady, “what the fuck just happened?” 

Reck’s mouth opened, but no noise came out. His neck was already bruising. He wrapped his arms around Tadashi, instead. Tadashi sighed shakily and accepted it. 

 

Tomorrow 

 

Without the stress of a ship full of crazies at every corner, going back through the wormhole and returning to the milky way was a slightly easier job. Their pilot was dead, but autopilot worked just well enough to be able to get them back through and request rescue. And, soon enough, Tadashi was back in his office, trying to radio control. He held his son in his lap securely. His son was playing with a Rubik's cube. 

“Toledo? Toledo, do you copy?” 

Tadashi watched the radio with a bored face. He had tried this at least six times in the last 30 minutes. It was getting quite boring. Maybe they couldn’t hear. Maybe the interference is too great. They are in the asteroid belt, after all. He sighed gruffly and put his head on his son’s spacesuit. Finally, after what felt like hours, the radio turned on. 

“Yes, we copy. What’s going on?”