The Aftermath by Ben Bova Page B

on.”
    â€œConfirm automatic sequencer.”
    New lights were springing up across the panel. All green, Theo saw. He could hear his mother’s rapid breathing. Something deep in the ship shuddered. Hydrogen’s flowing, Theo realized. Liquid hydrogen, at more than two hundred fifty degrees below zero. If anything’s going to go wrong, he thought, it’ll be now.
    â€œT minus thirty seconds. Electric power activated. Magnetic field on.”
    â€œConfirm mag field,” Theo said crisply. The liquid hydrogen seemed to be flowing smoothly: leakage rate minor, no damage to the insulated piping.
    â€œTen … nine … eight…”
    Hydrogen was flowing from the propellant tank to the main engine’s thruster. The engine’s superconducting magnets were on at full strength. The ship’s fusion reactor was putting out its maximum power level.
    â€œâ€¦ three … two … one … engine thrusting.”
    Theo pointed a finger at the central display screen. It showed a green line rising steadily. Thrust. The thrust they needed to slow the ship and get it looping back toward civilization eventually.
    â€œIt’s working!” Pauline exclaimed, clapping her hands together.
    â€œI don’t feel anything,” said Angie, sounding disappointed.
    â€œYou won’t,” Theo said, feeling enormously relieved. “I told you, remember? You can’t blast this old bucket like some rocket ship in an adventure vid. We nudge her gently.”
    Angie replied, “I know the thrust level’s real low, Thee, but I thought we’d feel something. ”
    He grinned up at her. “Watch yourself pouring liquids tonight. They’ll be skewed a little.”
    â€œYou did it, Theo,” his mother said, gripping his shoulder tighter. “You did it.”
    â€œWe did it,” he corrected. “Angie and me.”
    His sister beamed at him.
    It wasn’t until Theo tried to get up from the command chair that he realized he was soaked through with perspiration.
    â€œYou better take a shower, Thee,” Angie said, wrinkling her nose. “You smell pretty disgusting.”
    Theo laughed. Back to normal, he said to himself.
    *   *   *
    That evening, while they were relaxing in the sitting room after a celebratory dinner of real frozen chicken, Theo mused, “If there was only some way to get the antennas working.”
    â€œIf there were only,” Angie corrected, sitting across the coffee table from him. “Subjunctive. Right, Ma?”
    Pauline nodded. “After the conditional if. ” She was on the sofa, to Theo’s right.
    With a shrug, Theo said, “If we could get the antennas working we could call for help.”
    â€œBut you said we don’t have the materials you need to repair the antennas,” Angie pointed out.
    â€œYeah, that’s right. But I’m wondering if there isn’t some other way.”
    â€œLike what?”
    â€œLike … I don’t know.”
    Before Angie could say anything, their mother asked, “Is there anything else on board that could be put to use as a beacon?”
    â€œOr a comm system, so we could call for help.”
    Theo shook his head. “We’ve got all the communications gear we need. It’s just that the godda … er, godforsaken antennas are gone. No antennas, no signals out. Or in.”
    â€œIs there something else we can use for an antenna?” Angie asked.
    â€œNot that I can figure out,” Theo answered. “I’ve looked all through every piece of equipment on the ship. Nothing usable.”
    Pauline asked, “Don’t we have a radar system?”
    â€œCollision avoidance radar,” said Theo. “That antenna’s a mess of melted goo, just like the rest.”
    â€œYou mean we’re flying blind?” Angie yipped. “We could run into an asteroid?”
    â€œYes,