It was dark.
Thomas Augustine Marcell hoped to find a place to land and repair his ship, but the storm took that out of his mind. Now, all he wanted to do was not die. He set the automated signal, S-O-S, and landed safely on the shore of a speck of dirt on an ocean of black.
That was six weeks ago, and each night, like tonight, he relives it in his dreams. He knew every movement he made, and that there was nothing else he could have done that would have avoided his being stranded on this small island.
His ship was damaged, leaking, but he found this place before anything bad happened, like his dying. He found a speck of dirt and landed safely, amazingly, on the shore. He’s been there for 6 weeks waiting to be rescued. There was a little food, but he found fresh water. His emergency rations from the ship provided the nutrients he needed. Supplemented by the unique vegetation and small critters, he could last as long as was necessary to be rescued.
He heard static over the radio; they were looking for him, and he wanted to be rescued. No, check that, he had to be rescued. He wanted to get back to his fiancée, Brigit Gato, and get married, get a dog or two, maybe a cat, have a few kids, and live a long and happy life together. But first, he had to be rescued.
Thom woke suddenly. He heard voices over the radio. He knew he was alone on this small plot of dirt, so when he heard voices, he knew. He knew they were still looking for him. He left the radio on all the time. The batteries were charged during the day, in the light, and the radio was listened to all night in case they called out for him. Plain as day, he heard his name. He tried to reply, but they could not hear him. He knew he was transmitting, but either in the wrong direction or just not powerful enough. They were a lot clearer than ever before, so they were getting closer.
Today, he plans to increase the height of the antenna. He knows antenna theory, but that really makes no difference with these new radios. They all use the same antenna, two meters long, but you need to get it as high off the ground as possible for it to be effective.
When the sun came up, he went to his ship and stripped it of wires and a few pipes. Grabbing some rope and a spray aerosol, he headed back to his campsite and built a potato gun to launch the rope over the trees. He walked into the water and picked up one of the odd vegetable things, carving it to fit snugly into the tube. He attached the rope to the vegetable, sprayed the can into the back end of the tube, and lit it through the small screw hole in the top.
A moment later, there was a loud explosion, and the rope was launched over the tree in a perfect arc. He pulled the vegetable off the rope and nibbled on the remnants of his launching weight. Attaching the wire to the rope, he went back to where he had launched from and slowly began pulling the rope and the wire into the trees.
He sat on the beach thinking about home and rescue, and he just thought of where and how he ended up here. The storm came out of nowhere and clobbered his little ship, tearing holes in the hull. He found this place on the charts and prayed he made it here. It took less than a day, but it felt like it was a lot longer. He was extremely off course and off the trade routes, so he knew the rescue teams were looking for him in the wrong place.
A few hours later, he had the antenna laced perfectly over the tree tops. He went into the shelter he made on day one and turned on the radio. Pushing the test button, he was rather amazed. A very low reflected signal is returning to the radio. This means that all of the available power from the transmitter goes out of the antenna and, hopefully, to his rescuers.
He flipped the radio to voice and picked up the mic. Tentatively, he spoke.
“This is Captain Thomas Marcel, commanding the exploration ship Marco Polo.” It felt odd to him to call it the Marco Polo, he refers to it as the Astral. Each pilot has a nickname for their ship, like a call sign but very personal. “I landed on a small moon orbiting a planet similar to Earth. My ship is damaged beyond repair, but I am well. I found food, water, and shelter. I have been here a month and a half, and I would really want to head home. I would really like to be rescued, and you would definitely be my hero. I will put this on the emergency channel on repeat in the event you can use it to home in on my location.”
Thom released the mic and waited. It may be a few seconds before he hears a response. He waited. Ten minutes passed, and he decided he needed water and headed toward the well, as he called it. A fresh water spring.
He stepped out of the hutch he created, and a few steps away, there was a voice.
“Tommy, it’s Gil. I hear you, somewhat. I have your bearing and am on my way, seven ships. We believe you are about three days from us. So, see you in a few days. We are using your signal to guide us to you.”
Thom picked up the mic, “Gil, glad to hear. See you in a few days.”
Thom began sobbing. Relief.
Over the next few days, their signal strengthened and the delay decreased.
“Tommy, I’ll be making orbit in a few hours, and a few minutes later, I will drop in on your party. Do you have strobes available I can home in on for landing?”
“I do, Gil. Already set up. It is the middle of the night here, and the landing area is the beach; you should be able to see the strobe from orbit.” He flipped on the strobe.
Roughly two hours later, Gil told him, “Tommy, I got the strobe. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Thom saw the fireball descending on a direct course to him. He knew Gil would power the ship to slow his descent and come to a soft landing inside the six strobes on the beach. He turned off the radio and covered he water container.
Looking around his home for the past six weeks, he realized there was nothing he wanted to bring home with him. Then his eye caught his carving. About the size of his fist, it was of his plane, a ship that he had flown for the past four years, exploring the great unknown.
His plane is about half a mile away, on the shore of this beach, but it is being pulled into the water inch by inch.
Picking up the carving, he made his way to the strobe area and in a short time, Gil landed. Jumping out of his plane, Gil and Thom hugged.
“Need any help loading up?”
“No, Gil. This is all I am bringing with me from here.”
Gil looked at the carving, “That is a dead ringer for your plane. I saw the Astral as I came in, sorry to hear that she gave up the ghost.”
“She may be gone, but before she gave up her life, she saved mine.”
“Well, if there is nothing else, get in, and we can head home. You’ll be on the carrier tomorrow afternoon and home a week later. As a matter of fact, we will all be home at the same time. They gave us a month off of free R&R.”
“In that case, come to my wedding. I need a best man.”
“I would be honored!”