Destination Europa: Epilogue

This is Destination Europa, a psychological sci-fi thriller set aboard the R. G. Leifr, a colony ship headed towards Jupiter to establish a settlement on the ice moon Europa.

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“AiLeifr, show forward camera view.”

Europa curved below the ship like a dirty snowball against the vast bulk of Jupiter, razored by the rust-pink salt-ice canyons that cut the moon like scars. Quill zoomed in on one of the great sheets of ice, navigating from the isosceles intersection of two canyons and up into the centre of the ice sheet, until he found the half-built outline of Amundsen Base. It was too far for him to make out much detail, but this was as close as Security would allow him to look.

He tied his lengthening hair into a tight bun, still damp from his weekly shower, inhaling the hard synthetic scent of lemon soap. He checked the time. 13:37. Almost time. He paced the floor of his cabin, three steps up, three steps down, then pulled the tight-folded sheets of polypaper out of his overalls and read them over one last time. The fat blunt pencil marks had smudged in places; too late to change that now.

Dear Rob,

I hope this finds you well. I don’t know what FSS media has reported about me. I hope you know me well enough to know most of it probably isn’t true. But in any case, I have a confession to make. If I’m ever back on Mars, maybe I can do it in person. For now, suffice it to say that during my time in Tromsø, I did not live up to the moral principles of the Alliance, and that has had knock-on effects. I’m sorry. I really wish I could express how much it pains me to think of how I’ve let everyone down. Furthermore, my connection with the attempt on the Leifr, however falsely reported, is a scandal you will not wish anyone to associate with the Alliance.

With this in view, I offer my resignation from the Alliance, with immediate effect.

Forgive me, and think of me kindly, if you can.

Your brother,

Quill.

Dear friends,

It has been some time since you’ve heard from me, largely due to circumstances beyond my control. You will probably have already heard about the failed attempt to destroy the Europa mission. You have probably also heard that I was involved somehow. I would like to take this opportunity to tell you that I am innocent of the accusations levelled against me, however much I am a great sinner in other regards. Rest assured that I was in no way involved in the plot. My only involvement was to alert the crew of the Leifr to the danger in which we lay, and then to extend grace and a chance of repentance to the true perpetrator.

I am now being held in custody pending trial. I am thankful that I am allowed to stay in my own cabin for this, and have access to entertainment and reading material. My access to communications is limited to a short message to family each week, but a friend is helping me get this out. For future updates, feel free to contact my brother Archie.

Most of my erstwhile friends aboard ship have deserted me. I was humbled and encouraged that “Otter,” who I mentioned in previous letters, visited me frequently for the first few weeks of my imprisonment. However, she’s now joined the ground team constructing and maintaining the habitats for the new colony. She had become a close friend, and it grieves me to think that I might not see her again. I do have one or two other regular visitors. One of these, “Bea,” is part of the regular ship’s crew so will be on the return journey to Earth. Pray that she’ll keep visiting and that I’ll be some kind of good witness to her despite the circumstances.

After some uncertainty, I have learned that my trial will be held in Oslo. This gives at least two years for me to prepare and to find a good lawyer, if there is anyone who will take my case, although often I wish I could just get it over with. Humanly speaking, my chances are not good. But we know that there is more to the world than what is humanly possible. I hope I can use these two years to reflect, and to repent of some areas of sin in my life. I’ve been running away from some things for a long time, but this has made me stop and turn around. It may sound strange, but I believe there are fruitful times ahead.

I am immeasurably grateful to you and to our Lord for your partnership, your support and prayers and encouragement over many years now. However, after much prayer, I feel that in my current situation it is best for me to resign from the Presybterian Missionary Alliance, with immediate effect. I am aware that you may have questions about this decision, and I’m sorry I can’t explain more right now. Feel free to address any queries to our Ransom City office, although they may not have full information either.

Space is limited, so I’ll sign off now. This is my last letter from the field. I hope that someday I’ll get home to Mars and see you again in person, D. V. I still covet your prayers. If you think of me from time to time, remember the work on Europa. May his kingdom come, his will be done on Earth (on Mars / Europa / interplanetary space) as it is in heaven.

Shalom,

Quill.

Dear Priska,

I don’t know if you’ll ever get this, but I hope you will, someday. A friend is smuggling it out for me. Apparently your lifeboat was last seen heading for the inner system. I pray you’re still alive, that you get picked up, that you’re OK somehow.

All I want to say, really, is that I forgive you. I hope you can forgive me, too. We’ve both done a lot of stupid things. But I don’t regret allowing you to get away. I beg you, take this as a second chance, an opportunity to turn around. Don’t worry about me - my heart is at peace now.

There are some things I guess I’ll never figure out unless we see each other again some day. Like how you got aboard in the first place. If I were a betting man, I’d probably bet that you or someone in your group bribed someone to turn a blind eye, during the cargo loading or something like that. And of course without a chip, the ai never saw you, not then and not later.

I don’t imagine we have much of a future. I remember when you told me that FSS courts have a 99% conviction rate for cases that are brought to trial. If they don’t execute me, they’ll probably send me to the mines for the rest of my natural life. I just pray that someday, when it’s all over, I’ll see you on the other side. Like that old song, remember in that bar in Olympus that time? The far side banks of Jordan…

I love you still, you know. But given the circumstances, I sincerely hope you’ll find someone else and be happy with them. Most of all, that you can start afresh, somewhere, and find fullness of life again.

Farewell,

Quill

He blinked, and held the letters away from him in case the tears dripped onto the pencil. He hastily folded the polypaper sheets, thinner and stronger than silk, back into a rectangle smaller than the palm of his hand, then rolled that into a tight tube. He checked the time again. 13:59. He picked up the empty coffee beaker he’d been given after lunch and slipped the tiny roll of polypaper into the spill-proof straw. The access panel on his cabin door beeped.

“O’Neill! Visitor!”

The junior security officer stood in the doorway as the door slid open, scanned the cabin slowly then turned and nodded to the person behind him.

“Thank you, Jason.” Safira bounced into the room and sat herself in Quill’s desk chair. The security officer planted himself in the doorway, watching them.

“Hello, Saf.” Quill sat on the edge of his bunk and scratched his beard.

“Your hair’s getting long.”

“Yeah. Barber won’t take me.”

Safira tilted her head to one side and eyed him appraisingly. “Suits you, actually.”

There was a heavy silence, broken when they both tried to speak at the same time.

“You go,” said Quill, putting on a smile.

“I was just going to say, well, this is it.”

“Yeah.”

“Chin up, Dufresne.” Safira gave him a piercing look, and he understood. They were playing the game.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“I’ll keep it Smiley down at Amundsen,” she said with a grin. Smiley. The spymaster. Good one. “And I’ll try and keep in touch, now and again.”

He nodded again. “When do you launch?”

“17:00. There in time for dinner, all being well. I hear the mess is pretty well set up now. Salt-ice cocktails are the new craze. Pity we don’t have any actual alcohol for them, of course. Maybe someday.”

He took a deep breath. “Say hi to Tark for me, would you? Tell her I—”

“Hey!” The security officer interrupted. “You can’t pass messages! No unauthorised communication!”

“Understood, Jason, sweetie,” said Safira, half-turning in the chair and batting her eyelids at him before turning back to Quill. “You’re going to be OK, honey,” she said to him. She patted him on the knee.

“No touching the prisoner!”

Safira stood up. “Well, I’d better be going. I’ll take your coffee cup back to the mess, shall I? Would you like a refill?” She turned to the security officer. “That’s allowed, isn’t it, Jason dear?”

Jason grunted. Safira picked up the beaker and opened it to show Jason the cup was empty.

“Bye, Quill. And I’m sure things will work out, in the end.”

“Thanks,” he said faintly. “I hope the terraforming goes well.”

“Me too.” She held his gaze again. “Remember when I talked about the terraformers’ favourite love-to-hate movie?”

He thought for a second. “The Search for Spock?”

She nodded. “I hope you learn what happens after that.”

Ignoring Jason’s protests, she stood on tiptoes and gave Quill a peck on the cheek, then left with his coffee beaker. Jason scowled at Quill then left, locking the door behind him.

Quill slumped on his bunk and asked AiLeifr for the camera again. He didn’t zoom in on Europa this time, but let his eyes wander over the whole field of view: the feathering, swirling, dove-pale storms and stripes of Jupiter dominating, radiating, reigning the system; the bright dot that he thought was Io; and the ice world they were orbiting, with its hundred human souls clinging to the surface in the frail shell of their heated habitat, the only life in four hundred million miles.

He closed his eyes. Dufresne. That’s easy enough. Wrongly imprisoned, but she thinks I’ll get out somehow. Seems unlikely. Smiley. Easy enough. She wants to run me as her agent, somehow. Not sure how I feel about that. The Search for Spock… He searched his memory for the movie. He’d only seen it once, a long time ago. Genesis. There was a planet Genesis, maybe? After Genesis comes Exodus. Yeah, she’s definitely hoping I can infiltrate EXODUS, somehow. But maybe too.. it’s about searching for one person in the vastness of space. And it’s about new life from death, right? And loyalty, the faithfulness of friends. I don’t know if she meant that. But I hope so.

“AiLeifr, show aft camera view.”

The limb of Europa, white-brown against the deep black, was already smaller. He could still see the long arcs and slashes of the canyons and crevasses, claw marks from a cosmic dragon, but when he zoomed in he could no longer find Amundsen Base.

“AiLeifr, show forward camera view.”

From the ship’s new angle, Jupiter was to the side of the field of view. Quill checked his cabin one more time. He strapped himself into his bunk, his back against what was usually the wall, and prepared for acceleration. Far in the distance, he could see the brightness of the Sun.

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Cover image of Jupiter © National Astronomical Observatory of Japan, colour modification by SDGL.

Image of Europa: NASA/JPL-Caltech/SETI Institute

Divider image: NASA, ESA, A. Simon (Goddard Space Flight Center), and M. H. Wong (University of California, Berkeley) and the OPAL team, adapted by SDGL.