Free Space Rocks! by Tom O'Donnell Page A

Commander. “We must make some repairs and refuel before we’ll be able to land on the asteroid again. Our engineers are saying it will take at least six days. If there was any way we could come back for you right now, we would.”
    â€œSix days?” said Little Gus in disbelief.
    â€œIn the meantime,” said Mr. Hollins, choking up. “In the meantime, the asteroid’s orbit is going to put it on the other side of Mars. That means no radio contact for a while. Before that happens, if there’s any way you can send a message to let us know what’s going on—if we just knew you were okay—”
    He couldn’t continue. He was overcome with emotion.
    â€œDon’t worry, children. We’re coming back with a rescue team, with soldiers,” said Commander Hollins. “Just stay safe for six days. We’ll—”
    And then the screen went black, and she was gone.
    â€œThree hours of oxygen remaining,” said the computer.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

    â€œW e need a plan,” said Hollins.
    I had voluntarily allowed them to retie me. Although this time I noticed that Hollins didn’t tie my bonds quite as tightly.
    â€œOkay, first off, we have more than three hours,” said Nicki, “because we have spacesuits with their own oxygen tanks. That means each of us has at least ten additional hours of air before it runs out.”
    â€œThirteen hours total,” said Hollins. “Still not even close to six days.”
    â€œReally? And they say Nicki’s the genius,” said Becky, her voice sarcastic.
    â€œBecky, if you’re not going to help, then why don’t you just be quiet?” growled Hollins.
    â€œSeriously? Why am I the only one who’s worried about the alien in the corner that wants to murder us?” she screamed, pointing at me.
    â€œMurder?” I said.
    â€œSee? See! It said ‘murder’!” cried Becky. But no one really seemed to be paying attention to her.
    â€œIs there any way to fix the pod’s oxygen tanks?” asked Hollins.
    â€œI think we’d need a welding torch and something to patch it with,” said Nicki. “Stuff we don’t have.”
    â€œI can’t get this thing to work either,” said Little Gus. He’d been fiddling with the tele-visual console for a few minutes. “It won’t send an outgoing transmission.”
    â€œThe computer said that the communications system was damaged,” said Hollins. “I guess that’s what it meant: no way to radio out.”
    â€œOur spacesuit helmets have radios, right?” said Little Gus.
    â€œNot strong enough,” said Nicki. “But maybe we could send a message a different way?”
    â€œSo we can’t call our parents, and we’re running out of air,” said Hollins.
    â€œCouldn’t we just use our rocket-bikes?” asked Little Gus. “And fly up to the ship?” I gathered “rocket-bikes” is what the humans called the personal rockets stored in the airlock.
    â€œNope,” said Hollins. “The bikes don’t have enough power to escape the asteroid’s gravity. Or any life-support systems. Even if they did, our parents are probably already thousands of kilometers away by now. Rocket-bikes just aren’t meant for space travel.”
    Gus sank.
    â€œSo much for being the first kids in a semipermanent asteroid-mining colony,” said Becky. “Awesome idea, Mom and Dad. Parents of the Year.”
    â€œCome on, Becky. You liked having your picture on the news at the time,” said Nicki.
    â€œYeah, but this was supposed to be a year of skipping seventh grade, a bunch of parades back on Earth, and one heck of a college entrance essay. Now we’re going to die with the whole world watching.”
    â€œWe’re going to die?” asked Little Gus.
    â€œNo,” said Hollins. “Nobody’s going to die. We’ll figure