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Once everyone is done, I slip into my role as organiser. Immediately, my eyes dry. It's like acting, putting on a new mask.
"Bastian, give us an update on what you managed to do yesterday?"
He already told us about most of it at dinner, but I want to do it formally now that everybody is here and listening.
Bastian nods. "The bomb is wired to some essential wires that we can't cut. Whoever put it there knew exactly what they were doing. I don't see any way of removing it without setting it off, to be honest. There are some random cables connecting the trigger with the explosives, but unless you want to play Russian roulette, I wouldn't recommend cutting any of them. It's not like in the movies where the hero somehow manages to identify the correct cable. It would be a one in seven chance of getting it right. I'm not willing to take that risk."
"Let's keep that as our last resort," I agree. "If we can't remove it, can we somehow encase it so when it goes off, it doesn't do as much damage?"
He shakes his head. "We don't have anything strong enough, and I'm worried that whatever we use might turn into shrapnel that does even more damage. At the moment, the only way I can see to deal with this is to evacuate to a safe part of the station and take as many resources with us as possible."
"The biggest problem with that is the greenhouse," Will says, pulling out a notepad from his pocket. It's full of scribbled handwriting, numbers and more numbers. "Most of what I'm growing at the moment isn't ready for harvest yet. We'll lose ninety percent of what I've worked on for the past months. Together with the food we have in storage, we might last two months, maybe three at most. Then we'll starve, plain and simple. Without new deliveries from Earth and no greenhouse, we don't have another way of getting food."
There it is. We didn't need aliens or a meteorite shower to be our end. All we needed were some stupid humans who built a bomb. I wonder if they're still alive or whether they perished in the Drowning. I hope they did. I'm not someone who wishes evil on other people, but these bastards killed my friends, and they now threaten to kill my men. No way am I going to let this happen.
"Is there any way to separate the greenhouse from the other two parts that will be destroyed by the bomb?" I ask. "It's got solar panels on the roof already so could it use that as its energy?"
Bastian shakes his head in regret. "If we had a few weeks, I could probably make that happen, but we have not much more than a day. And even if I manage to reinstate power after the bomb goes off, it will be too late for our plants. They'll have been starved of water and carbon dioxide for far too long. We'd have to start from scratch, but it will be too late. By the time we have new plants, we'll be dead."
"Failsafe," Jim suddenly says and all eyes turn to him. "If I built a bomb with a timer, I'd want to be able to stop it should my plans change."
A tiny ray of hope shines into my heart and I look at him questioningly. "How would you do that? If the person who created the bomb isn't on the station, wouldn't they have to send the signal from Earth?"
Jim nods. "Exactly that. And they wouldn't be able to send it via the normal comms channel that we've been using. It would be too obvious, they'd be detected immediately. There are more firewalls around that connection than I could ever break, and I'm a bit of a computer genius."
Despite myself, I have to grin. He kept them from us for quite some time, pretending he was only a scientist specialising in chemistry and molecular biology. Well, besides that, it turns out he can basically talk to computers. At least that's what it looks like. He gets our systems to function better than they were likely ever intended to. He used to be a hacker in his youth, hacking into secret services and the military, until he was caught and 'converted to the side of the light', he says. So if he says he can't get through the firewalls, then they really have to be almost unbreakable.
"I thought I'd checked everything for viruses, but that was before I thought someone would need to send a simple signal from Earth to Mars to either set the bomb off or stop its timer. Give me a few hours and I'll be able to tell you if it's possible." He sighs. "This is just a theory though. It might be wasted time. I might be more useful doing something else."
I shake my head. "No, you do that. You're right, if I was an evil genius, I'd think of a way to influence my plan from Earth if things change." I turn to the others. "Any other updates?"
Toby shrugs. "Will already said everything about our resources. Basically, we're screwed."
"Never stop being so positive," Han teases, before he turns serious. "I hereby volunteer to try and cut the right cable, if it comes to it. If we decide to let the bomb go off, then the seven to one chance no longer applies."
"It still applies," I protest angrily. "It could kill you."
He smiles. "We don't know how much explosives are in it. It might just be enough to fry a few pipes and cables, and not enough to kill a man."
I stifle a growl. "No chance. I forbid it. Nobody gets to play the hero. We'll do this together, no solo attempts."
I don't say that I've thought of doing exactly that. I'm going to keep my men safe, even if that means getting hurt myself. Or dying. If it gives them even the sliver of a chance, then it's worth it. A one in seven chance. It could be worse. There could be ten cables. Or twenty. Think positive, Louise.
"Yes, no going rogue," Jordan reasserts, giving me a sharp look. Does he suspect something? Usually Han is the one who can read me like I'm an open, large-print book, but the way Jordan is staring at me is making me doubt that the doctor is the only one who's got me figured out.
I ignore him. "So, to sum it up, we're screwed unless Bastian finds a way to defuse the bomb, Will figures out how to save the greenhouse, or Jim detects a possible signal that we can manipulate."
Toby laughs sadly. "At least we'll be able to use up the cinnamon without holding back. Maybe I should bake a cake."
***
26:14
Twenty-six hours to go. That's almost nothing. Not long enough to think about death and what awaits us after. Or say goodbye to my guys properly.
I didn't say it openly during our meeting, but I'm sure everyone has thought about it. If we starve within weeks or months, isn't it better to just die when the bomb goes off? Not waste time and energy on prolonging our suffering for longer?
There is no hope. There won't be any magic trees suddenly sprouting from the ground to provide us with food. There won't be a shuttle arriving from Earth filled with supplies, even if we suddenly manage to reinstate communication with them. We're screwed, fucked, dead.
