The rhythmic hum of the ISS life support system felt suffocatingly loud. In the cramped Service Module, the atmosphere was thick with sweat and unvoiced terror.
Valery Vashchenko sat hunched over the amateur HAM radio station, his fingers resting lightly on the dials. He wasn't scanning the frequencies anymore. Instead, he stared blankly at the dark bulkhead and began to sing softly, a melancholic Russian folk melody humming low in his throat.
"Turn that off, Valery," Miller, one of the American astronauts, muttered from the doorway. His voice was flat, drained of all the professional optimism NASA had trained into him. He rubbed his eyes, which were bloodshot from lack of sleep. "It's a waste of battery. It's a waste of time. Houston went dark more than forty-eight hours ago. TsUP isn't responding. We're screaming into a vacuum."
"We don't know that it's permanent," Takahashi, the Japanese mission specialist, interrupted from across the module. He was desperately tapping at a diagnostic laptop.
"It could be a massive grid failure. A solar flare event or a coordinated cyberattack. A total blackout would explain why both the American and Russian tracking stations lost telemetry simultaneously."
"A blackout doesn't smoke like that," Keller, the European commander, countered grimly. She was looking out the small observation window, her face illuminated only by the faint, pale glow of the Earth's atmosphere.
"Before the clouds rolled in over Western U.S, I saw the thermal signatures. Those weren't city lights, Takahashi. Those were fires. Massive, uncontrolled fires across entire metropolitan sectors. Something is burning down there."
Valery didn't stop singing. He just let his voice drift a little louder, the haunting Russian syllables cutting through the bickering of his crewmates. He clicked the radio transmission switch, letting his song bleed down into the atmosphere, a funeral dirge for a dying planet.
Suddenly, a sharp burst of static hissed through the module's radio speakers, followed by a startled, breathless male voice.
"...llo? Hello?"
The crew froze instantly. The arguing stopped mid-sentence. In the sudden, heavy silence of the module, the only sound was the faint hum of the life support and the rustle of five astronauts holding their breath.
Valery took his finger off the broadcast button. He slowly turned his head, giving a quick, intense glance to the Americans, the European commander, and the Japanese engineer. Their wide eyes were all locked onto him, silently pleading for him to answer.
Valery pressed the button again, speaking clearly into the microphone.
"Hello," Valery said, his accent thick but firm, cutting through the stunned silence of the station. "This is Cosmonaut Valery Vashchenko. You are speaking to the International Space Station. Who is this?"
There was a long pause over the airwaves.
"Hello. Do you read?" Vashchenko spoke again into the microphone.
Then Victor's smooth voice returned, in it was a edge of disbelief.
"This is Victor Strand in Baja, California. I read you loud and clear. Tell me something, Mr. Vashchenko. Do you know what's happening in North America?."
Valery's eyebrows rose slightly.
"You sound like an American, my friend, " he replied. "Thinking everything only happens to him."
A few faint smiles appeared among the crew.
Victor let out a short breath over the radio.
"So it's not just here?"
The amusement vanished immediately.
Valery looked toward the small window before answering.
"No."
His voice grew quieter.
"Three days before our scheduled reentry, we watched the lights go out around the world."
The words hung heavily inside the module.
At first they had assumed power failures. Then communication outages. Then something much larger.
Victor was silent for several seconds.
"My God..."
Before Valery could say anything else, Sarah pushed herself closer to the radio.
"What happened down there?" she asked loudly.
Marcus immediately cut in.
"Was there a war?"
"An earthquake?" Takahashi added from his workstation.
"Some kind of global cyberattack?" Sarah suggested.
Valery raised a hand, attempting to calm them before transmitting the questions.
"Victor Strand," he said. "Can you tell us what happened?"
Static crackled through the speaker.
For several moments there was no answer.
When Victor finally spoke, he sounded uncertain.
Like a man trying to explain a nightmare.
"I don't really know how to say it."
The crew exchanged glances.
"What do you mean?" Keller asked.
Another pause.
"The dead came back to life."
Nobody spoke. The words simply failed to register.
Marcus blinked.
"I'm sorry?"
Victor continued.
"The dead. They came back to life."
Takahashi frowned in confusion.
"You mean people were revived?"
"No."
Static hissed across the channel.
"I mean dead."
The silence inside the station became absolute.
Marcus stared at the radio.
"That's impossible."
"Yeah," Victor replied dryly. "We figured that too."
Nobody laughed.
Victor continued before anyone could interrupt.
"They attack the living."
A burst of interference briefly distorted his voice.
"They bite people. Kill them."
The signal cleared again.
"Then those people come back too."
Sarah exchanged a look with Keller.
Neither woman knew what to say.
The explanation sounded insane.
Completely impossible.
Yet it, they didn't have a way to know if it's true or not.
With the sudden collapse of communications, they can't contactanyoneelse.
Marcus rubbed both hands across his face.
"Some kind of disease..." he muttered.
"Has to be," Takahashi agreed.
Victor let out a tired breath.
"Maybe."
The answer carried little conviction.
"We stopped trying to understand it a long time ago."
Keller folded her arms.
"What about governments? The military?"
Victor laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
"The military tried."
A pause.
"They bombed Los Angeles."
The crew froze.
Sarah was the first to react.
"They did what?"
"They bombed the city."
The signal crackled again.
"They evacuated who they could, then dropped napalm on the city, trying to stop the spread."
Even Keller looked stunned.
From orbit they had seen the fires.
They had seen entire metropolitan areas glowing through the night.
But hearing it confirmed by somebody on the ground was something else entirely.
Marcus slowly shook his head.
"No..."
Then suddenly another voice echoed from the connecting module.
"What is going on in here?"
Heads turned.
Dmitry Voronin floated through the hatchway and stopped abruptly.
Every member of the crew was gathered around the radio.
His eyes narrowed.
Then widened.
"Wait."
He pointed at the speaker.
"Did you get someone?"
Valery gave a small nod.
"From Baja, California."
Dmitry stared at him in disbelief before immediately moving closer.
The radio hissed loudly.
The transmission was beginning to weaken.
Beyond the station windows, the western coastline of North America was slowly slipping beyond the horizon.
The speaker erupted into a burst of static.
Victor's voice broke apart in the noise.
"—still there?—"
Valery immediately leaned toward the radio.
"Victor, repeat."
Nothing but crackling answered him.
The crew instinctively crowded closer.
Sarah grabbed the edge of a workstation and pulled herself beside the cosmonaut.
"Can you boost the transmission power?"
Valery shook his head without looking away from the controls.
"It is already at maximum."
The static briefly cleared.
"—hear me?—"
Then it vanished again.
"Victor!" Marcus called despite knowing the man could not hear him directly.
Valery keyed the microphone.
"Victor Strand, this is the International Space Station. Do you copy?"
Only noise answered.
The signal strength indicator continued to drop.
Takahashi looked from the radio to a nearby monitor displaying the station's orbital track.
His expression immediately told everyone what he had realized.
"We've passed him."
Nobody spoke.
Takahashi pointed at the screen.
"The station is moving northeast."
The glowing line marking their orbit crept steadily across the map.
" California is already behind the horizon."
Another burst of static filled the module.
Then silence.
Valery slowly released the transmit button.
For several seconds nobody spoke.
Marcus was the first to break the silence.
"Can we get him back?"
Takahashi glanced at the orbital display.
"Not now. We'll have to wait the ninety minutes, for a complete orbit"
He then exhaled slowly.
Sarah folded her arms.
"So we wait."
The words sounded more frustrating than reassuring.
For three days they had heard nothing but silence from Earth.
Then suddenly someone answered.
Someone who could tell them had happened.
And now the connection had vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared.
Marcus pushed himself away from the wall and began pacing through the module in short, awkward movements.
"Ninety minutes."
He shook his head.
"What if he isn't there when we come back around?"
Nobody answered.
The possibility had already occurred to everyone.
Valery rested a hand on the radio set.
"He sounded intelligent."
Sarah snorted.
"That's your assessment?"
The Russian shrugged.
"He found power. Equipment. Communications. Better than most people, I think."
Despite the circumstances, a few faint smiles appeared.
Only briefly, before they disappeared again.
Keller finally pushed herself away from the window where she had been silently listening.
"We shouldn't waste the opportunity."
The commander looked around the module.
"What do you mean?" Marcus asked.
She nodded toward the radio.
"If Victor could hear us, someone else might."
The crew exchanged glances.
The idea was obvious once spoken aloud. They had proof of that now.
Takahashi nodded slowly.
"We keep listening."
Sarah agreed immediately.
"And transmitting."
•••••••••••
The station drifted silently through orbit.
Inside the Service Module, the usual background hum of fans, pumps, and life-support equipment filled the air. Three months earlier the sound had been comforting.
Now it simply reminded them that every system keeping them alive had a limited lifespan.
No one spoke for several seconds.
The crew floated around the cramped module, gathered around a laptop displaying orbital data, fuel reserves, and projected reentry calculations.
Dozens of pages of notes, diagrams, and trajectory estimates were secured to nearby panels with strips of tape.
More than a month of work.
More than a month spent preparing for a possibility none of them had wanted to consider when the world first went silent.
Returning home.
Or what remained of it.
"We've checked the numbers six times," Sarah Vance said, breaking the silence. "The capsule can do it."
"Assuming everything works perfectly," Keller replied.
Sarah folded her arms.
"It was designed to work."
"It was designed to work with recovery teams waiting on the ground."
The room fell quiet again. Nobody argued with that.
Marcus pushed himself away from the wall and floated toward the table.
"We still have supplies."
His voice sounded tired.
"Food. Water. Oxygen. Months of it."
"Then what?" Dmitry asked, in a clearer accent.
Marcus looked at him.
"What?"
"When those months are gone?"
The younger cosmonaut gestured around the station.
"We still end up making the same choice."
Nobody answered, allowing Dmitry to continue.
"Either we return to Earth."
He pointed toward the hull beneath them.
"Or we stay here and die."
The statement settled heavily over the crew.
But nobody could dispute it.
Every orbit brought them closer to the point where indecision itself would become a decision.
Takahashi rubbed a hand across his face.
"What if we land in the ocean?"
Sarah immediately answered.
"We won't."
"We don't know that."
"We've run the calculations."
"And if they're wrong?"
Nobody responded.
The Japanese engineer looked around the module.
"If we miss the landing zone there won't be a rescue helicopter."
The reality of that hung heavily in the air.
There are no ships. No recovery teams. No mission control. Nothing.
Only whatever remained on the surface.
Marcus leaned back against a bulkhead.
"And if we do make it down?"
His eyes drifted toward the nearest viewport.
"What if we land in the middle of one of those cities?"
Ther was no need for clarification.
The living dead.
Even after three months the concept still felt absurd.
Yet none of them doubted it anymore.
Sarah shook her head.
"We can spend another six months arguing."
Her voice hardened.
"But eventually somebody is getting into that capsule."
Before anyone could respond, Takahashi suddenly frowned.
Something beyond the module window had caught his attention.
At first he thought it was a reflection.
Then he looked again, and froze.
"...wait."
Nobody reacted immediately.
Takahashi remained pressed against the viewport.
"Wait..." He repeated.
His voice immediately caught everyone's attention.
The others pushed off from the nearby handholds and floated toward the window.
"What is it?" Keller asked.
The Japanese engineer simply pointed.
The crew looked through the viewport.
Below them, the eastern United States stretched beneath the darkness of night.
Most of the continent remained black.
The same lifeless darkness they had grown accustomed to over the past three months.
For a moment nobody understood what he was seeing.
Then Sarah's eyes widened.
"Is that..."
Light. There was light down ther, and considering the size. It was a city.
Someone was generating power.
For several seconds nobody spoke.
They simply stared through the glass.
The point of illumination shone against the darkness below.
Proof that not everything on Earth was gone.
Marcus stared through the glass.
"No way..."
He leaned closer.
"No way."
Sarah immediately oriented herself.
"That's the southeast."
Dmitry looked from the window to the orbital map.
"Can you identify it?"
Marcus was already comparing the illuminated area against the map display.
His eyes narrowed.
Then he pointed.
"Georgia."
Everyone looked at him.
"It has to be."
His finger tapped the screen.
"That's Atlanta."
Silence filled the module.
Nobody had seen anything remotely comparable in months.
Occasional fires?
Yes
But an entire city operating with electrical power?
Nothing even close.
Keller stared through the viewport.
"How?"
Nobody had an answer.
The city continued sliding beneath the station.
Sarah recovered first.
"We need to contact them."
Valery immediately pushed away from the window.
"I'm already ahead of you."
He moved toward the HAM radio station.
Takahashi checked the orbital display and grimaced.
"Too late."
Everyone looked at him.
The engineer pointed toward the tracking screen.
"We're already passing beyond line of sight."
Almost as if to prove his point, Atlanta drifted toward the horizon.
The illuminated city slowly disappeared beneath the curve of the Earth.
A collective feeling of frustration spread through the module.
After three months of silence they had finally found something.
And it was already gone.
Dmitry let out an irritated breath.
"So now what?"
Takahashi checked the orbital timer.
"We wait."
Nobody liked the answer.But there was no alternative.
Orbital mechanics did not care about their impatience.
Keller's gaze remained fixed on the fading city lights.
Then she turned toward the crew.
"When we come around again, I want everyone ready."
Her voice immediately carried the authority of a commander.
"No wasted time."
The others nodded.
"We prepare a transmission and establish frequencies beforehand."
Sarah nodded in agreement.
"If somebody restored power to Atlanta, then somebody is in charge down there."
"Or at least organized," Marcus added.
Dmitry glanced toward the radio equipment.
"Then let's make sure they hear us."
The station continued its silent journey through orbit.
Behind them, Atlanta disappeared beyond the horizon.
Ahead of them stretched another ninety minutes of waiting.
°°°°°°°
Ninety minutes later, the station was approaching North America once again.
The atmosphere aboard the ISS had changed completely.
Nobody spoke much.
Nobody was thinking about reentry calculations anymore.
For the first time in three months, they had found evidence that organized survivors still existed somewhere below.
Now they were about to find out if anyone would answer.
Valery sat in front of the HAM radio station, one hand resting near the transmit switch.
Beside him floated Sarah and Dmitry, while Keller observed from behind them. Marcus and Takahashi monitored the orbital display and radio frequencies.
The glowing outline of the eastern United States slowly crept across one of the station monitors.
"We're five minutes out," Takahashi announced.
Nobody responded.
Their attention remained fixed on the radio equipment.
After a moment, Marcus finally broke the silence.
"Is this really a good idea?"
Several heads turned toward him.
"It's the night down there."
He folded his arms.
"If are people there, they're probably asleep."
"Or on watch," Sarah replied immediately.
Marcus shrugged.
"Still. We're assuming somebody is even listening."
"The lights are still on," Dmitry said.
His voice carried more confidence than certainty.
"They were on ninety minutes ago."
Keller nodded.
"And if somebody restored power to a city, they have communications."
Marcus opened his mouth to argue further but stopped himself.
Truth is, nobody truly knew.
They were all operating on hope and assumptions.
Unfortunately, it was all they had.
Takahashi glanced at the orbital display.
"We're approaching the eastern seaboard."
Valery adjusted several dials.
"Ready."
The others instinctively fell silent.
The radio emitted its usual background hiss.
Nothing else.
Valery pressed the transmit button.
"This is the International Space Station, anybody copy?."
His voice echoed softly through the speakers.
"This is Cosmonaut Valery Vashchenko transmitting from orbit."
A brief pause.
"This is Cosmonaut Valery Vashchenko, on board of ISS. Anybody copy?"
The message vanished into the darkness below.
Everyone waited.
But there was nothing, only static.
Valery tried again.
"This is the International Space Station."
More silence.
Sarah switched frequencies.
But still nothing.
Marcus transmitted next.
Then Keller.
One frequency after another.
One call after another.
The same result every time.
Static. Silence. Empty airwaves.
Minutes passed.
The station continued racing across the night sky.
Below them, the illuminated outline of Atlanta was becoming visible once more.
Yet no voice answered.
Ther was no acknowledgement, no response.
Eventually Marcus leaned back against a bulkhead.
"I told you."
Nobody replied.
The disappointment was already settling over the crew.
Perhaps they had been too optimistic.
Perhaps whoever had restored the city's power simply wasn't listening.
Valery rested a finger near the transmit switch.
One final attempt.
"This is Cosmonaut Valery Vashchenko on the International Space Station. Does anybody copy?"
His Russian accent filled the module.
For several seconds there was nothing.
Then—
A burst of static exploded from the speaker.
Everyone froze.
Valery immediately reached for the controls.
The noise continued.
Slowly it became louder and stronger.
A voice emerged through the crackling.
It was broken and distorted, but unmistakably human.
"...copy..."
The entire crew surged closer.
Marcus almost collided with Dmitry as both men pushed toward the radio.
The voice returned.
Stronger this time.
"...this is..."
More static swallowed several words.
Then the transmission cleared.
"...General Krennick speaking."
Nobody aboard the station moved.
Six pairs of eyes locked onto the speaker.
Below them, Atlanta's lights continued shining against the darkness.
And for the first time in three months—someone on Earth had answered.