Read Online 1. Just One Damned Thing After Another by Jodi Taylor - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jodi Taylor
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was survival after all expectation of rescue was past and supplies had run out.
How did it go? Three minutes without oxygen. Three days without water. Three weeks without food. So, should I leave the pod to find water and miss the chance of possible extraction? Or should I stay put and gamble on being rescued before death by dehydration, which, I’d heard, was not a pleasant way to die? But short of expiring of exhaustion underneath a chocolate-covered Leon Farrell, what is a pleasant way to die? And should I start rationing myself? Which meant I could last for maybe an extra two or three days? Or just eat and drink the lot and die anyway?
Day 15 ended. I pulled out the scribble pad and thought about leaving details of whom I was and why I was here, in case my remains should ever be found. Bugger it. Let them guess.
I had a sudden, heartrending vision of the Chief, sitting alone with a mug of cold tea by his side and really did have to blink back a tear of self-pity. Would my name go up on the Boards? I wasn’t technically an historian yet. It might not count. I sat outside with my arms around my knees and thought gloomy thoughts. I’d just closed my eyes when I heard a click, a hum, and the entire console lit up like the Christmas display in Oxford Street. Lights flashed, requiring a response.
I scrambled to my feet, tripped on my skirt, and rushed in to look. The readouts seemed normal, the countdown held at 4, awaiting confirmation to continue.
For a moment, I thought I might faint. I sat heavily and waited for my innards to subside. Pulling myself together, I shut the door; kicked lockers closed, rolled up the sleeping module, and splashed water on my face, all in about thirty seconds. I sat down, ordered my heart to slow down, and activated the countdown. The world went white, a slight bump, and I was home.
Oh God, I was home!
Peering through the screen, I was amazed to see St Mary’s carrying on pretty much as normal. Didn’t these idiots know what I’d been through? Then I sat back. Of course they did. I’d never been in any sort of danger at all. Well, if they could play it cool then so could I. I activated the decontamination unit and sat back while the cold, blue light worked its magic.
I saw the Chief crossing the floor with a mug of steaming tea. He knocked on the door.
I called, ‘Who’s there?’
After a pause long enough for the word ‘cocky’ not actually to be spoken aloud, he said, ‘Room service.’
I laughed and opened the door. He handed me the tea and began to shut things down. Outside, I could see his crew plugging in the umbilicals.
‘How did it go?’
‘It was fine. Ate, read, worked on the tan. Thought about St Mary’s best kept secret. I’m impressed, I’m really impressed. I didn’t have – none of us had – the slightest idea about this. How has St Mary’s kept this quiet over the years?’
‘Everyone who thinks about it sees the benefit of keeping it quiet. It’s the most valuable test we have; and the most nerve-wracking, for us, as well as for you.’
‘This is fantastic tea.’
‘How long ago did you run out?’
‘Two long days ago.’
‘We were spot on then. We have to try and gauge it so you’re close to running out of supplies but haven’t yet struck out across country to search for help. When were you planning to go?’
‘I wasn’t. I knew you wouldn’t let me starve.’
‘No one likes a smart arse.’
‘Does this mean I’ve failed?’
‘No, Miss Maxwell, it means you’re top of the class.’
Yes! My future stretched happily in front of me; back to the past.
‘How about the others? Are they back yet?’
He frowned. ‘Grant activated his emergency extraction as soon as he realised he was where he shouldn’t be, which is, of course, the correct procedure. Nagley came back when her console failed. I’m sorry to say she wasn’t very calm and has subsequently left the unit.’
‘She’s gone?’
‘She couldn’t wait. She had
How did it go? Three minutes without oxygen. Three days without water. Three weeks without food. So, should I leave the pod to find water and miss the chance of possible extraction? Or should I stay put and gamble on being rescued before death by dehydration, which, I’d heard, was not a pleasant way to die? But short of expiring of exhaustion underneath a chocolate-covered Leon Farrell, what is a pleasant way to die? And should I start rationing myself? Which meant I could last for maybe an extra two or three days? Or just eat and drink the lot and die anyway?
Day 15 ended. I pulled out the scribble pad and thought about leaving details of whom I was and why I was here, in case my remains should ever be found. Bugger it. Let them guess.
I had a sudden, heartrending vision of the Chief, sitting alone with a mug of cold tea by his side and really did have to blink back a tear of self-pity. Would my name go up on the Boards? I wasn’t technically an historian yet. It might not count. I sat outside with my arms around my knees and thought gloomy thoughts. I’d just closed my eyes when I heard a click, a hum, and the entire console lit up like the Christmas display in Oxford Street. Lights flashed, requiring a response.
I scrambled to my feet, tripped on my skirt, and rushed in to look. The readouts seemed normal, the countdown held at 4, awaiting confirmation to continue.
For a moment, I thought I might faint. I sat heavily and waited for my innards to subside. Pulling myself together, I shut the door; kicked lockers closed, rolled up the sleeping module, and splashed water on my face, all in about thirty seconds. I sat down, ordered my heart to slow down, and activated the countdown. The world went white, a slight bump, and I was home.
Oh God, I was home!
Peering through the screen, I was amazed to see St Mary’s carrying on pretty much as normal. Didn’t these idiots know what I’d been through? Then I sat back. Of course they did. I’d never been in any sort of danger at all. Well, if they could play it cool then so could I. I activated the decontamination unit and sat back while the cold, blue light worked its magic.
I saw the Chief crossing the floor with a mug of steaming tea. He knocked on the door.
I called, ‘Who’s there?’
After a pause long enough for the word ‘cocky’ not actually to be spoken aloud, he said, ‘Room service.’
I laughed and opened the door. He handed me the tea and began to shut things down. Outside, I could see his crew plugging in the umbilicals.
‘How did it go?’
‘It was fine. Ate, read, worked on the tan. Thought about St Mary’s best kept secret. I’m impressed, I’m really impressed. I didn’t have – none of us had – the slightest idea about this. How has St Mary’s kept this quiet over the years?’
‘Everyone who thinks about it sees the benefit of keeping it quiet. It’s the most valuable test we have; and the most nerve-wracking, for us, as well as for you.’
‘This is fantastic tea.’
‘How long ago did you run out?’
‘Two long days ago.’
‘We were spot on then. We have to try and gauge it so you’re close to running out of supplies but haven’t yet struck out across country to search for help. When were you planning to go?’
‘I wasn’t. I knew you wouldn’t let me starve.’
‘No one likes a smart arse.’
‘Does this mean I’ve failed?’
‘No, Miss Maxwell, it means you’re top of the class.’
Yes! My future stretched happily in front of me; back to the past.
‘How about the others? Are they back yet?’
He frowned. ‘Grant activated his emergency extraction as soon as he realised he was where he shouldn’t be, which is, of course, the correct procedure. Nagley came back when her console failed. I’m sorry to say she wasn’t very calm and has subsequently left the unit.’
‘She’s gone?’
‘She couldn’t wait. She had
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