Birth of a Pilot

Things have a tendency to fall slower in Martian gravity, including tears. Thankfully, the buildup of tears in Angelo’s eyes doesn’t interfere with his being able to see.

The dust covering his shield is the problem.

Up until now, Angelo has been able to maneuver around the surface, turning whenever the Starwalker approached an obstacle, but gradually, the shield in front of him became more and more opaque, until it became caked solid with dust. Any incoming obstacles or cliffs will now be lost to his eyes.

The pilot’s heart pounds. Half-formed thoughts bubble to the top of his mind, only to prove useless to his situation, if not incomprehensible. He wants to see his friends again, his family, any friendly and familiar face one last time, but for all he knows, that time has already passed. At the back of his throat is a yearning, a plea that he wants to voice, but it won’t come out. His mouth moves, but silence follows.

“Angie, can you hear me?”

Angelo sniffs. Though he can’t tell how much time has passed since his predicament started, Romero kept himself busy all the while, providing any suggestion he could. None help. Recently, he’s gone quiet, running out of possible solutions to offer. For the first time, the young ranger is happy to hear his voice.

“Good, good…” The researcher’s tone drips with regret. He sighs. “I think at this point, we’re just going to have to wait until the fuel runs out.” He sounds a little more cheerful. “You’re strong. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

The pilot doesn’t answer. His mouth moves, but silence follows.

“Listen, I… I know this is scary, and I haven’t really helped matters, but right now, we need to rely on each other more than ever. Can you do that for me, son?”

Angelo appreciates the staff major’s sentiment, but right now he wants nothing more than to scream. Instead, he sniffles in acknowledgement. His mouth moves, but silence follows.

“Thank you.” Romero sounds somber, but grateful. “Hey! You’re gonna wanna start turning soon. You’re approaching the edge of the summit!”

The pilot stomps on the left pedal as if his life depends on it. It does. Not knowing how much he should turn worries him. If only he could tell the staff major. His mouth moves…

“C… I c--ca… Shield…”

“What was that? You’re going to need to speak clearly.”

Angelo’s face burns. He can’t even think clearly right now, let alone speak. He tries again, anyway.

“The sh...ld. Dust. Th-there’s dust on t-th-th-”

“What was that? There’s dust on the shield?” 

“Y-yes…” He can’t believe the staff major understood that. “I… c-can’t… see.”

“You can’t see? What can’t you--Oh!! Just turn on the windshield wipers. Let me go and see which button that is...” Rustling paper is heard from the other end as Angelo narrowly speeds by a boulder. After a few seconds, he hears a slap along with Romero panickedly  grumbling to himself. The paper shuffling increases in frequency. 

“J-just hold on for one moment, okay? I gotta make a quick phone call.” As his life remains in danger, the pilot listens as Romero dials on his phone. Uneasiness sets in his gut. The researcher not knowing where the windshield wipers are on his own machine can’t be a good sign. A troubling conversation ensues.

“Ashley! Can you get Taji on the line? I need his help! ...I-It’s nothing, just get him on the phone. …Whaddaya mean he didn’t show up?? He told me he would show up today! ...Fine. Ashley, do you remember the button for the windshield wipers?  …We don’t have any? I-I see… What about my pilot? How’d you even know I had one?? ...Listen, Ashley, I really gotta go. Thanks, bye!” After Romero hangs up, Angelo hears a long, drawn out sigh.

“This is probably the last thing you want to hear right now,” begins the staff major, “but--”

“I heard.”

“Ah…” Angelo could either hear the older man’s heart breaking, his pride shattering, or both. He feels sorry for him, but the sympathy fades as more pressing matters take priority. For example, is he doing in circles right now? He should be, since the young ranger hasn’t lifted his foot off the left pedal since Romero told him to turn, but he hasn’t seen that boulder in a while.

“I’ve got it!” The hope in the staff major’s voice is contagious. Maybe he figured out how to stop the rogue robot! “Your helmet signal! I can track where you’re going and tell you when to turn! Let go of the left pedal.”

Angelo obeys.

“Okay. Alright! You should be safe for a while!” Romero begins laughing in relief. “You’ll be safe!”

The ranger isn’t entirely sure of that, but he feels more hopeful than before. Maybe if he keeps running around like this, the Starwalker will tire itself out. He might be stranded, but still alive. Suddenly, a question comes to mind.

“S-staff Major, how much fuel is le--?”

The Starwalker comes to a brief, unpleasant halt. It collides with the boulder from earlier, breaking off a piece before continuing on its way. Angelo now realizes the meaning of Roxie’s concerns, because despite the snugness of the seatbelts, he still manages to ram up against the leg divider. He’s left in a fit of coughing, a sore abdomen, and none of the air that was previously in his lungs. He curls up tightly, silently wishing to go home.

“Angelo, are you okay, what happened?” Romero sounds genuinely concerned. “Did you hit something?”

The pilot is too busy trying to regain his bearings to answer. He instead bursts into tears.

“H-hey, you don’t sound too good over there. Is everything alright? Talk to me, son!” Something slams against a hard surface, presumably the staff major’s fist. “Gah! This map is useless! It doesn’t show any of the junk on the surface you might hit. Why?” He slams the surface repeatedly, devolving into sobs. “Why? Why? Why??” 

Each cry of anguish makes Angelo feel more regret. If he hadn’t gotten in the robot, if he didn’t try to be a hero, none of this would be happening right now. No one would be suffering. Why is it always like this? Every time he tries to be useful, it turns to tragedy. Should he even keep trying if all it does is cause pain for those he wants to help? 

“I-I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” He attempts to repeat the phrase with all that he can muster, though his voice is going out, and he knows that apologies won’t fix the mess he caused. Still, he doesn’t know what else to do. No one deserves this, not his brother, not the crew, not his parents, not Romero…

Romero.

Angelo snaps out of his mantra as soon as he thinks of the staff major, who’s too absorbed in his own misery to notice him. He begins to question why he should feel sorry for him. Even if Angelo ultimately agreed to pilot the robot, he thinks back to why he didn’t trust Romero in the first place. He didn’t care. When Roxie told him about the lack of safety measures, he didn’t care, he just cut her off. He didn’t care if the captains had legitimate reasons to protest, he just silenced them and the rest of the crew. He didn’t care when Angelo himself was still crying as Leon first helped him into the Starwalker, he made him pilot anyway. Everyone told him in one way or another what a bad idea this is, and he didn’t care. He just wanted Angelo to get in the robot.

Now he’s paying the price.

A pillar of rock whizzes by Angelo, as solid as his contempt for the staff major. Even if this is partially his own fault, he wants to live long enough to see Romero fully pay for his mistakes. He coughs away his last tears.

The staff major, however, continues sniveling. “I’m so sorry, son, I didn’t-- I didn’t mean for this to happen!”

“Maybe you should’ve thought of that beforehand.”

Silence follows Angelo’s response, so he keeps talking.

“Where’s th-the--Where’s the fuel gauge?-- Ah!” The Starwalker hitched on a small rock formation, sending its pilot into another coughing fit. This brings a new issue to his attention. When the fuel does eventually run out, what’s to stop the Starwalker from halting on a dime and wreaking havoc on his organs? Will he even survive for that long if he keeps hitting rocks on the way?

Romero fumbles around. “My notes should be around here somewhere…”

They should be. Angelo wants to say, but he figures he should be more polite if he wants this guy to help him live. Either way, his patience is wearing thin.

“Ah! Found them! The fuel gauge is--Let me read: ‘The fuel gauge is... going to be installed in the rebuild.’” Life drains out of the researcher’s voice.

Now it’s Angelo’s turn to sigh. Are you serious? What does this thing even have? Instead of stewing Romero’s incompetence, he tries to think of something else that might help him.

“S-Staff Major? Is there s-something that might lift the shield?”

“The shield?” asks Romero. “The shield! Yes, there is! You’re a genius, son! I don’t know what I would’ve done--”

“Please tell me where it is!”

“Top red switch to your right.”

“Th-thank you.” 

Angelo flips the switch, and the Starwalker’s shield slowly rises up. Sweet vision returns to him at last. He doesn’t know where he is in relation to the base, but there doesn’t seem to be any cliffs in front of him. The young ranger takes a breather. If things stay like this, he might stand more of a chance. Only slightly more of a chance, since the leg divider is still a problem, but he should at least survive until the fuel runs out.

He still doesn't know how long that'll be.

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Do you know when th-the fuel will run out? 

The staff major pauses. “Well…” He seems to have calmed down now. “You have been out there for a while now, and my baby, as fast as she is, doesn’t really have the fuel capacity to run around this long. I’d say within the next hour she should be empty.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He doesn’t have much time left before whatever happens happens. It’s probably best if he stays near the base in case an ambulance has to be called. 

“C-can you get me closer to base?”

“You’re on your way there. Just turn a little to the right.” he directs, as if the Starwalker isn’t restricted to turning left. Angelo steps on the left panel, making his wide turn.

As he orients himself, Romero decides to speak. “You’re really handling yourself well now… To be honest, I was thinking you would’ve panicked yourself to death, but… you really decided to trust in me.”

“I just want to live.” It’s one of the kinder things Angelo could say right now. Romero’s regretful sigh gives him as much catharsis as saying any of the other thoughts on his mind without the guilt.

Romero doesn’t say anything else for a while. During this time, Angelo tries to relax for once. He’s not in any immediate danger, but his nerves don’t get the message. This could be it, his brain keeps reminding him. You lied to Big Brother. You told him you’d be okay. Technically, he gestured it, but that doesn’t make Angelo feel any less crummy. Leon could’ve saved his life; that was what he was trying to do, but who didn’t listen? Me. Avoiding insubordination isn’t really worth it anymore.

Stop beating yourself up. It’s not over yet!

For once, Angelo’s thoughts actually help. It’s not over yet, he’s still breathing! Maybe there is a way! The pilot looks ahead of him; he wouldn’t be able to see the base’s entrance from this angle, but he must be getting closer. It gets him thinking. Instead of waiting until he’s horribly injured to call for help, maybe he can be helped now.

“Sir! Call for help!”

“Is something wrong, Angelo?”

Yeah, the everything! “Not right now, but I was th-thinking, I was thinking that s-since I’m getting close to the base, someone there might be able to help me! That way the leg divider won’t injure me as much when the S-Starwalker stops!”

Angelo senses hesitation from the staff major’s end. “I… I don’t know if they’d be able to handle something like this, Angie.”

“Please stop calling me that. Angelo is fine.”

“But-”

“Please.”

“Fine, Angelo.” Romero huffs. “But I don’t know what the guys on base can do about this! You’re going over fifty miles an hour!”

“It’s better than just th-the two of us trying to figure things out on our own. Please--”

“No!” the staff major snaps back. “We’re doing just fine on our own!”

“But-”

“No. I won’t call them, and that’s final.”

Angelo wonders where the researcher’s previous concern went. His pride must’ve outshined it. Or maybe… The ranger wonders if Romero is trying to save his own skin by not getting the anyone else involved. Disgust and anger rises in the pilot’s throat. Though he’s unsure of its value, his life is worth much more than some skeezy scientist’s reputation!

“Sir?” he asks, innocently.

“...Yes, son?” Annoyance lingers in the researcher’s voice.

“Could you tell my brother he can have all my stuff?”

“What?”

“And my mom and dad can keep any money they saved up for me. I won’t be needing it, anyway… Ah! I should probably s-specify: my real dad, not you.” Language can not describe the euphoria Angelo feels getting that off his chest. “I think that’s all.”

“All of what? What are you talking about?”

“My will.”

“Excuse m-?” A sound interrupts Romero’s outrage. Angelo can’t quite make out what it is, but he can make out footsteps afterward.

An unfamiliar voice speaks. “Staff Major Romero, I need you to stop your experiment for the safety of your test subject. Your robot isn’t finished!”

Angelo is shocked. Someone came to help him?

“Oh, so now you show up?” Romero grumbles. “Back to ordering me around in my own lab, I see. I should have you reported for trespassing.”

“This is serious!” the newcomer pleads. 

“I’m doing just fine!” insists Romero. “Now leave me alone!”

As much as he’d like to hear whatever drama is going on between these two, Angelo’s desire to live is higher. “Call for help!” he yells at the top of his lungs.

“What was that? What’s going on?” The rising concern in the other voice confirms that Angelo’s plea has been heard.

“I just asked him… what to say if he’s in trouble.” Romero lies.

What follows next is an indistinguishable ruckus filled with knocking, “Stay back, Karl’s” and sheets of paper flying everywhere.

“Angelo, can you hear me?” the other voice asks.

“Yes! Please call for help!” The ranger notices, but doesn’t question how this stranger knows his name.

“Okay, just a moment!” Ignoring Romero’s “He’ll be fine, I swear!” The other person picks up what Angelo assumes to be a telephone receiver and--

“Hey, what are you--? Don’t unplug that!” Romero doesn’t listen to the other’s pleas and a few moments later, something breaks against a distant, hard surface.

“I… I panicked.” Romero tries to explain to the visitor. He then speaks into his headset. “Stay safe, Angelo. I know you’ll make it out of this.” Shortly after, the pilot hears quickly receding footsteps, as well as the other guy calling after Staff Major Romero. More footsteps recede.

With a heavy heart, Angelo realizes something.

I’m alone, aren’t I?