Those Who Cannot Remember The Past... by Michael P Calligaro

Those Who Cannot Remember The Past...

by Michael P Calligaro

Toby Macintire woke to the barely audible buzzing of his alarm. He ignored it and listened instead to the familiar humming of the station's air vents. He almost dozed off again. To most spacers the rhythmic beating of air ducts induced sleep more effectively than any pill could. Even the incredible chemicals invented at the station were no match for the soothing effects of an air duct. Some old timers actually claimed the ducts worked better than a mother singing lullabies to a baby. Of course, babies don't need their mothers' lullabies to breathe.

After giving Toby a minute to get out of bed, the wake-up klaxon switched into "obnoxious mode." It continuously raised it's pitch, frequency, and volume until Toby could no longer pretend to ignore it. He stretched as far as possible, but could not reach the buzzer control from bed. Considering the cramped nature of the quarters, this was a substantial design feat. "Damn engineers," Toby grumbled, "putting the bed on one end of the room and the off switch on the other. I swear they did it just to spite me." Sighing, he rolled out of his cubbyhole bed, raced across the cold floor (also by design), and slapped the alarm's acknowledge button. He glanced back at the invitingly warm bed, but knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep now. Besides, he was due on duty.

After a quick sponge bath and ten seconds under the evaporating lights, he was dressed and ready for everything--not that anything ever happened on the space station. "Henriette," he addressed his computer, "where's my first pickup today?"

"Hull section four," the deep alto voice responded, "you are to pick up a shipment of spherical beakers for the chemistry laboratory on level point two five."

"Oh great. How I love going into the heavy zone." Though Toby had only lived on the station for a few months, he had grown quite used to the lower gravity his quarters provided. The space station was a giant wheel spinning at a velocity sufficient to provide full Earth gravity at its outer hull. Toby's quarters were located roughly halfway along one of the spokes and he enjoyed carrying around only half of his normal weight.

However much he disliked the "heavy zone", Toby always marveled at the effect of walking down stairs into higher gravity. On Earth, going down was easier than climbing up. Here the opposite held true. The Hull 4 computer greeted him cheerfully. "Good morning citizen Toby, we have an easy job for you today."

"If it's so easy, why don't you just take the beakers down yourself?"

The synthetic voice bordered on reproach, "Now, now citizen, you know as well as I that humans, in their infinite wisdom, have outlawed all forms of mobile computer. After all, if one criminal can reprogram one of us to hurt someone, then it makes sense that no citizen should be allowed to use us."

Toby know that all to well. After the Newhaven robot massacre, he had voted along with everyone else to ban the mechanical servants. "Okay, give me the package."

A box appeared at the window. "Now you be careful with this." Did Toby hear a sneer in the computer's voice? Four months ago Hull 4 had been a robot, but they had gutted it for its control computer after the ban. Now Toby had its old job and almost thought the once-robot bore a grudge, though he knew better.

He hefted the crate and started back toward centerstation. Toby's mind harbored no doubts as to the benefits to the ban on robots, but his reasons did not match the silly "protect us from the bad people" ones that most people believed. Toby's reasons were far more self serving. Back when the station had robots to do the menial tasks, the scientists did not need undereducated, overweight life forms like Toby breathing their air and eating their food. As much as Toby liked to complain, he wouldn't have traded a chance to live in space for all the robots in the world. At 20 kilos overweight and with no college degree, he far from exemplified the ideal astronaut.

Toby had dreamed of living amongst the stars since he first stared up into the night sky. He skated through high school and then managed to get a job at NASA. There he did everything he could to make himself useful, which usually pertained to carrying things around for the scientists and cleaning up after them. Fifteen years later, after the ban left a need for someone to do drudge work on the station, they let him go up. Yes sir, there was no question that the ban on robots was a good thing.

Though he had traveled to the hull and back dozens of times, Toby's body still did not fully comprehend the concept of climbing stairs into lower gravity. Life on earth had convinced it that climbing stairs should be hard, but here with each couple of steps he had to exert less force than the couple before. After straining to carry the bulky crate at the hull, Toby now easily slung it under one arm. His job really was pretty cushy. It was fortunate for him that none of the important people wanted to lower themselves to it. Now, if only he could make it to the chem lab without running into old man Perkins, this might turn into a pretty good day.

No such luck. Toby rounded a corner and found Perkins whistling to himself while slowly pushing a broom. Perkins' face stretched into a wide smile and he beamed, "Toby, my boy, how are you?"

Toby plastered on a smile of his own, but inwardly grumbled at his rotten luck. Perkins, like Toby, could thank the robot ban for his place on the station. Rumor had it that he'd lived his whole life on space stations, dating all the way back to Alpha. All that time in low gravity might explain why the outer rings never seemed to get swept. "Hey Perkins, how are you today?"

"Just fine lad, just fine. And you?"

"I'm okay, but I've got to hurry up and deliver this." Toby proffered the crate.

The old man's face lit up. "You're going to the chemistry lab? Did I ever tell you about the last time I cleaned up in there?"

Not another one of his long-winded stories! Perkins was sure that every mistake he had ever made in his life was noteworthy and that the young could do no better than learn from his vast experience. In reality, young and old alike were tired of hearing him yabber on. Toby shook his head. "Sorry Perkins but I don't have time to listen to it now. You know how they are in the lab." He tried to avoid eye contact with the old man as he rushed by.

The old man called to him. "You know lad, those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."

Toby cringed a bit, but continued on. The lonely guy had few people to talk to. The scientists ignored him and the maintenance techs were downright nasty. Toby tried to be civil, but it was so boring listening to him talk incessantly.

The chem lab's vacancy did not surprise Toby in the least. While the scientists came and went as they pleased, Toby always had to be there on time. Of course, this did give him an excuse to avoid Perkins. He set the crate down on a table and looked around the place. Shelves upon shelves of glass and plastic containers lined the walls. Toby, in a futile attempt to recognize even one name from his high school chemistry class, had once read every label on every container. He recognized none, but then again, teaching useful stuff in school had fallen out of style during the time he was there. He had never tried very hard to learn anything on his own, either.

He studied the main experiment table in the center of the room. Amidst an impressive array of tubes and beakers, two liquids, one orange and the other blue, dripped into a glowing clear liquid. Toby enjoyed watching the drips fall at a quarter their normal speed. They almost seemed to hang in midair before dropping slowly to the beaker below. When the orange drop hit, the clear liquid turned dark purple, then the blue hit and it went back to clear. A mixer spun slowly, keeping the growing solution well blended. "Solution," at least he remembered something from his chemistry class. Moving closer, he noticed that someone had scribbled "Do not touch. Highly explosive! This means you, Toby!" on the table near the experiment. He had ruined an experiment or two by meddling with them.

Then the note's meaning reached his brain. Explosive? Toby backed away. The scientists weren't supposed to leave anything flammable unattended. But the chem lab scientists had always thought they were above the rules. "I wonder what they're making," Toby muttered. Was it a special kind of rocket fuel or a new superbomb? He'd have to ask the next time he made a delivery during work hours. Of course, they'd just ignore him. The chem lab scientists were the least friendly of all the station's inhabitants. They had made a number of incredible discoveries and their successes had gone to their heads. Now they were too important to be civil to a lowly delivery boy. Or maybe it was that they were used to dealing with robots and thus treated Toby like one.

Shrugging, he went to a view port. As always, his heart skipped a beat on seeing the Earth from space. That view made living with the stupid scientists worthwhile. He had noticed that they were so intent on their experiments that they never bothered to look out the window. And they called him dumb! Toby had been known to stare at the Earth for hours on end.

Some unknown amount of time later, sunlight glinting off something in space caught Toby's eye. A small hunk of metal headed straight toward the space station. "I hope that thing's not moving fast enough to punch a hole in us," Toby worried. The metal fragment smashed into the view port in front of him, causing Toby to jump back. Holding his breath in anticipation, he watched the view port become a spider web of cracks. But it held. He exhaled in relief, got up, and was about to report the incident when the tell-tale sound of hissing screamed out. Toby jerked around to find that a small hole had formed in the center of the view port. He searched for a wall patch but this room had none.

Vacuum tight emergency doors cycled shut on either end of the lab, locking Toby in. At least the rest of the station would keep its air. Toby frantically scoured the room for something he could use for a patch, but found nothing but chemicals and containers. The hissing became a dull roar as more and more of the view port broke away. Then the resulting wind pulled the experiment on the main table over.

* * *

Toby awoke in a stark room full of blinding white light. He had to shield his eyes with his hand to scan it. The room's only noticeable feature was a man dressed in a white robe with a gold ring floating above his head. "Oh God," Toby gasped, "I'm dead."

"Sort of, but not really." The angel responded. "Actually, it's worse than that."

"Worse? How could it be worse?"

"I'll show you, but first, my name is Zeekial."

"I'm Toby."

"I know that. Here, let me show you the last few seconds of your life, but this time from another viewpoint." The room darkened and an image appeared between the two of them. Toby immediately recognized the wheel-like structure to be the space station. A second later, the station exploded.

"They weren't kidding when they said that experiment was explosive, Toby."

"Oh no! That means fifty people died!"

Zeekial frowned uncomfortably. "Actually, it's worse than that."

"Huh?"

"Well, look." Toby gasped as a room-filling view of the Earth replaced the image of the station. This view made any Toby had seen from the view ports on the station seem like a dull video image. If he'd had any breath to lose, the sight would have taken it away. The angel continued. "When the station blew up it not only cost the lives of fifty people, it cost the taxpayers a substantial sum of money. The huge public backlash ended with the disbanding of the worldwide space program. People turned inward, concentrating on the Earth's problems and not wasting their time or money on space exploration. They moved underground to let the surface grow untarnished by human development. Through advances in hydroponics and manufacturing they abolished hunger and pollution. Through advances in social programs, they eradicated poverty and unemployment."

"We managed to do all that?"

"Well, it took a few hundred years."

"So what's 'worse' about it?"

"This." A mammoth comet appeared on the far end of the room and hurtled toward the Earth. "By this time no one even bothered to look up at the sky, let alone use telescopes. It wouldn't have helped them if they had, though. Even if they had seen it coming, they no longer possessed the technology to get off the planet." The comet smashed into the image of the Earth, causing massive destruction there. The image faded and the lights came back on.

Toby stared at the angel with his mouth agape. The destruction he had just witnessed chilled his soul. "How many people died?"

The angel just looked uncomfortable again.

"How many?!" Toby demanded.

"All of them."

Toby's face went white. "My God."

Zeekial coughed, "Actually, it's worse than that."

"What?!"

Fiddling with his robe, Zeekial said, "Toby, don't take this the wrong way or anything, but this is all your fault."

Up to that point, Toby had thought he couldn't be more shocked. Feeling dizzy, he sat down. Fortunately a chair magically appeared below him. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. He opened it again, then closed it again. Finally he managed, "Please explain."

"If people had not turned away from space, some fraction of humanity would have been off the planet when it was destroyed. So Homo Sapiens would not now be extinct. People turned away from space because the station blew up. You, and you alone, had a chance to keep the station from blowing up. So you could have averted this disaster."

Toby's face became even more white than that of your average dead man, then it flushed. "Wait a minute! Why me? Why am I here instead of someone else?"

The angle shrugged. "Why? The anthropic principal, of course. If it were someone else that was responsible, that person would be here."

"But what's the chance that I would be capable of keeping the species from being destroyed hundreds of years after I died?"

"Oh, infinitesimal at best. You had a better chance of winning the SuperLotto four times in a row. But you tell me, what's the chance that somewhere in the history of time there is something that could be done to change the future for the better?"

Toby shook his head.

"Well, it's finite. We started at the earth's destruction and worked back until we found something that could stop it. A few hundred years back we found an opportunity and saw that you were the only one with that opportunity."

Toby slouched down and put his head in his hands. "Okay, but isn't it a bit extreme to be blaming me for the destruction of humanity, given how hard you had to look?"

Zeekial pulled off his halo and started self-consciously buffing it on his gown. "Yeah, I wasn't crazy about that either, but it's not like we don't have precedent for this. Don't forget that we're the people who blame you because an extremely distant ancestor ate an apple."

Shaking his head in despair, Toby asked "So why are you telling me all this?"

"Because we kind of have a chance to fix things."

He jerked up. "We do?"

"Yes. I've spent the last millennia or so negotiating with my...adversaries. At first they liked the idea of taking a huge percentage of humanity in one fell swoop. But then they realized that they wouldn't have anyone else to tempt or subvert. This is really a bad situation for everyone involved." He paused.

"And?"

"Well there's a delicate balance between the adversaries and us, and they didn't want to give much to my side. They conceded to give you another chance, but under the following stipulations. You will relive your last day, but you will only be allowed to remember one thing from the last time through it. I'm not allowed to council you on what it is you should remember, either. The 'no direct intervention' rule has been around too long and neither side wanted to repeal it. Oh, and one more thing, while you could choose to remember that the station would blow up, you can't remember exactly why. They decided that would be giving away too much. They're not the most reasonable bunch."

"Well then, I want to remember that the Earth is going to be destroyed when a comet smashes into it. Maybe I can warn them."

The angel's already low face fell further. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then reconsidered. "So be it," he murmured.

* * *

The morning alarm woke Toby, but the buzzing in his head came from another source. Even though he couldn't remember any of last night's dreams, something told him they'd been very weird. Then, it came to him in a roar. The Earth was going to be destroyed! He rolled out of bed and leapt to his feet even before the alarm went into obnoxious mode. "I've got to tell the captain!"

After dressing in haste, Toby rushed to the control room in the center of the station. The guard there greeted him with a bored expression. "What do you want?"

"I've got to see the captain."

"Can't. He's busy."

"Please," Toby pleaded. "It's important."

The guard frowned and said, "Wait here, I'll see what I can do." He pulled himself into the command center. Toby floated in the zero gravity of centerstation, waiting impatiently. Presently the guard pulled himself back out and waved Toby in.

The entrance into the control room was little more than a hole in a wall with handrails running through. Toby grabbed a track and pulled himself along. Having never been to control, the sight awed him. The walls, ceilings, and floor were covered with blinking indicators and the crew sat harnessed in the center where they could take it all in. The two techs scowled at Toby, but the captain, a good-natured man with white hair, sharp eyes, and a disarming smile, nodded in his direction. "What can I do for you? It's Toby, isn't it?"

"Yes sir. I had a dream last night, well more like a premonition, that the Earth is in grave danger."

One of the techs snickered, but the captain ignored him. "What kind of danger, son?"

"I think it's going to be hit by a comet."

The captain spun and checked a reading. "I don't see any new comets on the telescopes."

"No, I think it's going to happen sometime in the future. Maybe far in the future at that."

The other tech joined the first in snickering and the captain seemed to fight with himself to keep from joining them. "And what do you suggest we do about it?"

Toby frowned. He hadn't thought much about that. "Well, shouldn't we warn the Earth? Maybe if they know the future of humanity is in jeopardy, they'll start spending more now to move into space."

Sorrow replaced the captain's mirth. "Son, we've been warning them about something like that for years. They won't care until ten minutes before your comet hits. Spend more money? This station's paid for itself five times over and the people still clamor to cut its funding. I doubt you'd be able to convince them to spend any more. Hardly anyone on Earth even cares."

Toby's face fell, "But. . ."

"No 'buts' Toby," the captain interrupted. He glanced at another display. "Now, aren't you supposed to be delivering a crate from Hull 4 to the quartergrav chem lab? Don't make the scientists wait, Toby, if they don't deliver their new superfuel by next month this station's funding will be slashed and we'd be forced to cut back on personnel." The techs stared at Toby meaningfully.

Toby nodded. "Yes sir. Sorry for taking your time." He heard them laughing at him as he pulled his way out.

* * *

He slung the crate over his shoulder as he climbed the stairs to the quartergrav level. His sour mood had not improved with the stupid robot brain reprimanding him for his tardiness. To make things worse, he ran into old man Perkins on the way to the lab, and, as usual, the old coot tried to tell him a long-winded story from his clouded past.

"You're going to the chemistry lab? Did I ever tell you about the last time I cleaned up in there?"

"Perkins, I'm having a bad day and I just don't have time to stand here listening to you babble." Perhaps he was being too rough on the old man, but Toby didn't much care.

"Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it, young man." Perkins called after him. Toby ignored the advice.

He set the crate down on a table and quickly scanned the lab. No one was here, of course. The scientists never got to work on time. They were too important to be bothered with such trivialities. But if Toby ever delivered something late, they'd have his hide.

In frustration, he punched the crate, which, in the low gravity, sent him sprawling backwards more than it hurt his hand. Before he could catch his balance a loud thud followed by the horrible sound of splintering glass echoed through the room. Toby stumbled sideways and found cracks branching out on one of the glass view ports. Then part fell away, giving the air in the room a chance to escape the confines of the station.

The emergency doors cycled shut, but Toby didn't notice. He ran to the hole in window and tried to think of something he could do. His once-frustrated mind turned to panic and he raced around the room looking for something to patch the hole. More of the window broke away and the air rushed out at an increased pace. Then an experiment on the center table fell over.

* * *

The memories rushed back like a river bursting through a dam. Toby sat up in the stark white room and looked at Zeekial. "I didn't do any good, did I."

"No, Toby, you didn't," he responded brusquely. The angel looked different than he did before. His once radiantly white gown was now covered with grime and his demeanor was less . . . angelic. "I negotiated another chance for you, but I had to make some massive concessions. Look at this gown! Do you know what it's going to be like going through eternity as the only angel with a dirty gown? Oh, the shame! I'll be the laughing stock!" Toby tried to say something, but Zeekial refused to let him get a word in. "And this!" the angel thrust his fist out. "Do you know what they want me to do with this?"

Toby looked at the brown cylinder in Zeekial's hand and shrugged. "What is it?"

The angel answered by chomping off the tip and spitting it out. Then he thrust the cylinder into his mouth and snapped his fingers. The end burst into flames and he inhaled. This left him coughing uncontrollably.

Cough. "You're too young to remember cigars. The adversaries haven't been able to tempt anyone to smoke in ages. They just rolled about themselves over the idea of corrupting an angel." He coughed again. "I trust you've come up with something better to remember this time?"

Toby nodded. "Yeah, I want to remember not to let the experiment fall over."

Zeekial rolled his eyes and blew smoke at him.

* * *

Something was wrong. The fresh air he had grown accustomed to smelling seemed somehow smoky this morning, as if something pungent had been burning. Toby rolled out of bed to investigate, but the smell dissipated before he could find its source. Shrugging, he slapped the alarm acknowledge button and got ready for work.

While the actual smell was gone, its memory stayed with Toby. Somehow he knew the burning smell was a premonition of something yet to come. Never before being much of a psychic, Toby could not understand these strange thoughts.

He picked up the crate and ran into Perkins on his way to the quartergrav chem lab. Perkins tried to blather on about his boring life and Toby brushed him off. "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it, young man." Toby paused for a moment. Something seemed familiar about that phrase. And what was that he smelled? A faint touch of smoke? Shaking his head, he continued on.

In the lab, Toby set down the crate and looked around. The experiment on the main table caught his eye, and, when he read the note hastily scribbled on the desk, his heart stopped. He realized he'd been seeing this convoluted system of tubes in his head all day. He had to make sure this didn't get destroyed. He looked around it, but nothing seemed amiss. What could destroy it? Nothing hung above that could fall on it, nor was the table anything but rock steady. Maybe his premonitions were nothing more than dreams. Still, whether dreams or premonitions, they had been hounding him all day. Toby pulled up a chair and watched over the experiment.

The smash, followed by the sound of splintering glass, caused Toby to jump up. The emergency doors cycled shut and air poured out through the hole. Toby realized he was going to die. He also realized that if his premonitions were correct and the experiment was going to be knocked over, it would happen soon. He placed himself between the tubes and the hole in the window and put his arms up to steady the apparatus. Unfortunately, he did not watch carefully enough where he put his arms, and a drop of the blue liquid hit his hand. Toby did not remember much from high school chemistry, but he could tell that the liquid eating through his hand was classified as an acid. He jerked away instinctively, but his arm caught an errant tube.

Though it happened in an instant, Toby saw the experiment topple over in slow motion. He reached desperately to stop it, but it was too late. The tubes of the apparatus smashed against the table and the whole thing exploded.

* * *

"You stupid fool! You actually destroyed the station yourself this time!" Zeekial paced angrily, all the while puffing on his cigar. His dirty white robe had been replaced with tight black leather pants and a loose fitting T-shirt that said "to Hell with Him" on the front.

The angel grabbed Toby by the collar and yanked him to within inches of his face. "You listen to me, mortal. I've renegotiated and you've been given one more chance. The other side has taken massive compensation from me and I've got nothing more to give. You understand me? Nothing! That means if you screw this up one more time, you're species is finished, wasted, game over man! So you'd best consider carefully this time." Zeekial shoved Toby away, sending him flying across the room. Fortunately he landed on a bed of pillows that magically appeared below him. On seeing this, the angel sneered and snapped his fingers. The pillows disappeared and Toby fell the remaining two feet to the floor. "Considering how I'm going to be spending the rest of eternity, I almost hope you fail, you worthless earthworm." Zeekial took a long drag on his cigar and went back to pacing.

Toby lay frozen on the ground, not daring to move. His mind raced furiously. He had tried to warn the Earth, and that had been useless. He had also tried to directly stop the explosion and had been unsuccessful. What else could it be? Everyone expected him to be able to save the station by remembering just one thing, but he didn't know what he could do even if he remembered everything. That had to mean that someone else knew what he was supposed to do. But who? The computer in his room had mentioned the chem lab, so had Hull 4. And so had. . . Toby bolted up. "I want to remember the past."

"Humph. You're the kind of guy who would try to use his one wish to get more wishes, aren't you? I told you, you can't do that."

"No, that's not what I mean. I don't want to remember everything, I just want to remember that the past is important and not something to be ignored."

Zeekial stopped pacing and nodded thoughtfully. He grabbed a black leather jacket and donned it. A door appeared and he headed for it. Inscribed in fancy letters on the back of the jacket were the words "Hell's Angels." At the door, Zeekial reached up and pulled away his halo. He hung it on a hook and picked up a pitchfork. He then looked over his shoulder, his gaze boring into Toby. "Be good, human. You really don't want to meet me again." Laughing maniacally, he walked through the door and dropped out of sight.

* * *

Toby rolled out of bed and rushed across the cold floor to the alarm shutoff. He wondered what design tradeoffs had gone into putting the shutoff so far from bed. Not that he had ever bothered to research them. Research was like history, and history had always been boring. "Henriette," he addressed his computer, "where's my first pickup today?"

"Hull section four," the deep alto voice responded, "you are to pick up a shipment of spherical beakers for the chemistry lab on level point two five."

Spherical beakers. Why would anyone need spherical beakers? And since when did he care? Toby shook his head to clear the last vestiges of sleep and took off for Hull 4.

The Hull 4 computer greeted him cheerfully. "Good morning citizen Toby, we have an easy job for you today."

"If it's so easy, why don't you just take the beakers down yourself?"

The synthetic voice bordered on reproach, "Now, now citizen, you know as well as I that humans, in their infinite wisdom, outlawed all forms of mobile computers. After all, if one criminal can reprogram a mobile computer to hurt someone, than it makes sense that no citizen should be allowed to use one."

Toby knew that the one-time robot was talking about the recent Newhaven massacre, but wondered if it was also referring to something else further in the past. Toby didn't know. He'd managed to pass high school history without ever opening the book. They'd wanted to fail him, but that wasn't allowed. Still, he was starting to wonder if he should have applied himself more.

He carried the crate up to the quarter gravity level and headed for the chemistry lab. Now chemistry was a class he had liked in school. It was much more interesting than history. Toby stopped and wondered out loud why he was thinking of school so much today. "That was a long time ago, why think of it now?" Shrugging, he continued on and ran into old man Perkins.

"Toby, my boy, hello!"

He plastered on a smile but groaned inwardly. "Hey Perkins, how are you today?"

"Just fine lad, just fine. And you?"

"I'm okay, but I've got to hurry up and deliver this." Toby proffered the crate.

The old man's face lit up. "You're going to the chemistry lab? Did I ever tell you about the last time I cleaned up in there?"

Toby shook his head. "Sorry Perkins but I don't have time to listen to it now. You know how they are in the lab." He tried to avoid eye contact with Perkins and rushed by.

The old man called to him. "You know lad, those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."

Toby froze. "What was that?"

Perkins straightened up proudly. "That's from an old philosopher named George Santayana. What it means is this: If you don't remember other peoples mistakes, you'll make them yourself."

Toby nodded, "why don't you walk with me to the chem lab and tell me about the last time you were there."

Perkins hurried along, immediately launching into speech. "The scientists had used up two containers of chemicals, tetrahydrobromazine and tromine-zeta catalyst. They had left the two containers out on a table with a note for me to clean them up. Why they couldn't just throw them out themselves, I don't know."

"You're going to have to make this quick, though, we're almost there."

"Well, there was a little bit of both chemicals left in the containers, so just to see what would happen, I poured them together. Now tetrahydrobromazine and tromine-zeta catalyst are colorful liquids. But when I poured them together they turned clear and started glowing! Worried that the scientists would see this and be mad at me, I decided to flush the stuff out an airlock. So I poured it into 'lock 10, cycled it and recycled it. The glowing chemical had turned into this extremely thick and sticky black stuff! Man, it took me almost a day to clean it off."

Toby looked at Perkins suspiciously. Come on, why would it change like that when you flushed the airlock?"

"I don't know, I'm not a scientist. Maybe it had something to do with the chemicals reacting differently in a vacuum then at pressure. All I know is that it was a mess!"

Toby supposed this was possible. At least he couldn't think of any reason it would be impossible. But he was still suspicious. Perkins continued to babble on and, thankfully, they soon arrived at the chem lab. "Well, I've got to deliver this. I'll talk to you later, okay Perkins?"

"Sure, see you around."

After setting the crate down on the table, Toby glanced over at the wall of chemicals. "I'll bet those chemicals Perkins talked about don't even exist," he mused. He searched through the labels and eventually found them, each in a brand new beaker. "Then again, maybe they do." No sooner did he say that when a loud smashing sound rang out through the room. Toby spun around to see cracks running outward along the glass of one of the view ports. A second later, part broke away and air hissed out. The lab's emergency doors cycled shut and locked tight.

"Oh, my God! I'm locked in and loosing air!" Toby searched for a patch, but quickly saw that there were none in the room. Undoubtedly the good people of Earth figured the station's budget was already too high to include funding for inexpensive patches.

Toby's mind raced. He was going to die very soon if he didn't act quickly. This place was on it's way to mimicking the vacuum of outer space. That triggered a thought. "Well, Perkins, let's hope you weren't making that story of yours up." He grabbed the tetrahydrobromazine and tromine-zeta catalyst containers and raced over to the leaking window. There he tore open both containers and, one in each hand, poured about half of their contents over the window. The blue and orange liquids briefly turned clear then quickly became black. The roar of the escaping air toned down to a slight hissing. Toby poured the contents of one container into the other and then poured the resulting glowing liquid over the window. The hissing stopped. Toby, his hands shaking, set the container down on the floor and then sat down next to it. He took deep breaths and tried to slow his pounding heart.

* * *

Scientists came and opened the doors. They listened to his story and some actually looked impressed when he told them how he'd patched the hole. Something was said about an experiment that might have exploded if he hadn't stopped the air flow so quickly and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Later on, the captain personally congratulated him on his quick thinking and bravery. It made Toby feel proud, but mostly he was just glad to be alive. He went to an observation lounge and sat watching the Earth spin below. He loved that view.

Perkins wandered in. "Hello lad. Seems you're a hero. Congratulations."

"Thanks Perkins, but I'd be dead if you hadn't told me about those chemicals and how they react to a vacuum. You can tell me your stories anytime."

"Great! Did I ever tell you about the time I rescued Station Alpha? One of the young hotshots had
forgotten . . ."

That night Toby turned in early. He locked the door to his quarters, setting it to "no visitors," and sat down at his desk. "Henriette, what can you tell me about a philosopher named George Santayana?"

"Bringing up the files now." The computer responded.

* * *

A fallen angel named "Z" looked up and grinned. The consequences had been horrible, but he knew he had made the correct choices. Too bad they were probably the last good things he'd ever do. He got back to work torturing a lost soul.

The End

Copyright Michael P. Calligaro

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