The Final Expedition

Day Fifty

“It’s this waiting that’s killing me.” Natalya told me as we sat at the galley table in Zvezda. “We’re just waiting until our supplies run out and then heading back to Earth not knowing what’s waiting for us. For all we know, we could land in the desert and end up crawling through the wilderness dying of thirst, or a slow, painful death of radiation poisoning.”

“Or we could land and find other survivors and spend the rest of our lives in comparative comfort.” I pointed out.

“Comfort?” derided Flynn from the other side of the module. “If we survive the landing and if we manage to find clean food and water before our supplies run out and if we find any survivors down there, we are in for a tough life. You had better start enjoying your life on the station Varennikova, as this is as much comfort as you are likely to get until the day you die, which might not be that far away if the planet is in as bad a state as it looks from up here!”

“For Christ’s sake, Flynn!” I glared at him.

“Look Carter, I’m sure in your fluffy world, they’ll be waiting for us with a cool beer and a limousine, but you need to wake up and smell the coffee.”

“Thanks for the reality check.” I snapped. “Next time, why don’t you keep your opinions to yourself? Don’t you have a shred of compassion in you?”

“It doesn’t matter, Max.” Natalya interjected in an attempt to calm the situation. “Flynn’s just trying to be realistic that things are likely to be tough on Earth.” Flynn snorted derisively. I glared at him and he glowered back, jaw clenched attempting to stare me down and drifting closer in an obvious attempt to intimidate me. I had always been good at holding a stare and couldn’t help but smile, confident that Flynn would falter first.

“How old are you two?” Natalya groaned. Flynn’s right eye began to twitch, his lips curled in a snarl and he turned away in disgust.

“I haven’t got time for this.” He growled and pulled himself away in the direction of the hatch back towards the American segment of the station.

“What the hell is his problem?” I looked away from the swiftly retreating Flynn to Natalya, who had her arms folded across her body and was frowning at me.

“I could ask you the same.” She replied hotly. “You remember what Wes said? What happened to trying to be more patient and understanding?”

“Sorry.” I replied, stung by her criticism. “But he’s a tool. I was just defending you…”

“I can look after myself.” She interrupted. Her expression softened as she read the surprise in my face and she smiled and reached out, gently squeezing my hand, her fingers soft and warm. “I appreciate the sentiment, but there are six of us crammed in to this tiny station and we could all do without you two butting heads at every opportunity.”