Disclaimer:see chapter one

AN: Whee! I fixed up the glitches on the computer, and now it runs like a dream. It took me a while, but I did it! Hopefully this will make typing and updating easier. :)

Chapter Ten- The Math Was Wrong

John held onto Gordon's hand, preventing him from running to the climbing frames. Not that Gordon felt like climbing today. Normally, Gordon would be fighting tooth and nail to clamber like a monkey. Just not today.

"Johnny, where's Virgil?"

"I don't know, Gord. I don't know." John looked at his watch. "He should be here. His school finished ages ago."

Gordon looked up at his brother. "What if he's already left school?"

"Don't be silly. Virgil wouldn't do that." John dismissed the idea, as though it was ludicrous. "He knows how worried we'd get if he didn't turn up."

Alan scampered to the phone as soon as it started to ring. "Hello?"

There was a pause, where Alan fiddled with the coiled cord.

"What? Oh, OK." He covered the mouthpiece. "Grandma, it's for you!"

Josie ran to the phone, curious. "Hello?"

"Yes, I am."

Another pause. Josie could feel her lips pursing tighter and tighter. She imagined she looked like she was sucking on extra sour lemons.

"I see. Well, it's no good to apologize now, is it?"

There was yet another pause, only broken when Josie cut in. "No, I think you've done enough, don't you? Now, if you don't mind, I need to keep the phone line free in case he calls. Goodbye."

"Who was that, Grandma?" Scott asked, leaning casually in the doorway.

"It was the school. Apparently Virgil took off in the middle of his maths lesson, and he hasn't returned."

Scott cursed under his breath, ignoring the second murder glare his grnadmother sent him. "John and Gordon are still waiting for him. Call them and let them know that they should come home. He's got my cell, so you can contact him." Scott grabbed his wallet, keys and spare motorbike helmet off the table near the front door. "I'm going to look for him." He marched over to the coat stand and pulled Virgil's jacket off the hook. "Just in case he's cold."

"You're not looking for him on your bike, are you?" Josie asked, aghast. "Take the Ute, Scott. It's more practical."

Scott shook his head. "I'm taking the bike. It's rush hour right now. I'll be stuck in gridlock if I take the Ute. I can weave in and out of traffic on the bike, possibly find him faster."

"How will I be able to contact you?" Josie asked frantically. "John has your phone."

"I'll be back in an hour and a half. Two at the most. Promise. If I haven't found him by then, I'll come home, get my cell and then go look for him again. Let's see," he murmured to himself. "My helmet's on the bike. Spare helmet in hand. Extra coat in hand. My safety gear's in the storage box on the bike. I am good to go."

"What are the readouts?" Jeff scrunched himself up into a ball, trying to conserve his body heat.

"Temperature's dropping." Jack's teeth chattered involuntarily. His skin had turned a pale shade of blue. "CO2 levels are rising."

"Orbita, this is Houston. How are things up there?"

"OK, I guess."

"We'd like you to check the oxygen and carbon dioxide readouts, please."

Jeff's brow furrowed. "Why?"

"I can't tell you why, Jeff. Just orders from the top."

Jeff snarled. He wasn't happy about being kept in dark. "Jack's already checked. CO2 levels are rising. We're running out of power as well."

There was an ominous silence.

Virgil sat at the café table, trying to look inconspicuous. He didn't want to draw attention to himself just yet. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a collage-age waitress hovering around his table. Just to get rid of the hanger on who was peering over his shoulder at his empty sketch page, Virgil ordered another hot chocolate. As soon as she left, he rummaged around in the bottom of his bag, pulled out his artists pencils, and began to draw.

"Looks... powerful." The waitress commented at Virgil's sketch as she set down his mug of chocolate.

Virgil glanced up at her, and nodded in thanks.

"You should enter that into the state art competition. I'm sure it would win."

"Yeah, maybe I will." However, deep down, Virgil knew he couldn't do that. Not with any of his artworks, and especially not this piece. They were too private, too personal.

After taking a sip of his steaming mug of hot chocolate, Virgil applied the finishing touches to his drawing, smudging and sharpening the lines. He laid the sketchpad on the table, and a solitary tear leaked out of the corner of his eye.

Virgil sniffed as he wiped away his sorrow. Looking up from the table was a drawing of Jeff, standing tall and proud in front of his chariot, Orbita 13.

"If I was Virgil, where would I be?" Scott asked out loud, as he filled his bike up with gas. "Definitely not the art or music stores. Going there would make him happy. The mall would be too crowded for his liking." Scott groaned, and screwed the fuel cap back into place. He walked towards the store, ready to pay for the gas, when a bunch of colourful flowers caught his eye. 'Have to get some for...'

His train of thought broke off, an idea suddenly hitting him. It seemed unlikely that Virgil would be there, but it was worth a shot. He grabbed the closest bunch of flowers, paid for them, stored the flowers in the small box, pulled on his helmet and roared out of the gas station.

Jack scrambled around, trying to find a particular scrunched up piece of paper. "Something is wrong. CO2 levels should not be rising. Not if the math was right."

"And was it?" Nick asked, almost too sharply.

"Just give me a minute! I have to find the fricking piece of working out, don't I?" Jack snapped.

"Gentlemen," Jeff warned. "I thought we'd agreed on not doing this. Honestly, you two are worse than my sons."

A slow, horror-filled realisation hit Jack as he studied his working out. "The math was wrong. I got it wrong."

"What did you do?" Jeff asked tentatively, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer.

"I worked out the oxygen for two people." Jack looked to Jeff first, and then to Nick. "Only for two. Not for three."

"Yeah, well, maybe I should just hold my breath." Nick muttered.

Gene cleared his throat for the strategic review meeting with his data controllers. "We've managed to find a solution to get our boys all the way back to Earth safely. Well done." He drew a straight line through the hyphen sized dashes on the board. A huge cheer ran through the room. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We've still got a problem. Their CO2 levels are rising and they are dangerously high, and they are running out of power from the main supply and the emergency pack. They've requested to power down all computers on board the LLC, but you advised against doing so. The only ones they turned off were teh heating panels. Now, we need to find a way of giving them enough power to last the trip. I think this means we need to shut down the computers, bar the vital ones."

"That's impossible! They'd only have 13 amps to run their computers! That's just the bare minimum system components! The coffee machine in the corner takes up more power than 13 amps!" A technician called out.

"Well, it's a good thing we're not trying to bring a coffee machine back to Earth, isn't it." Gene rubbed a weary hand over his face. "Bring Ben in. He can work the case from the ground."

"Ben has chicken pox."

"I don't care if Thinely has the German measles, or is suffering from pneumonia! I don't give a damn if he's covered in purple spots and green fur! Get him here!" Gene exploded. "Ben wanted to be involved in this. Here's his chance. Get him in here, STAT!"

"Yes sir!"

"Now," Gene continued. "About the rising CO2 levels. We need to assume that the CO2 filter has been damaged, or is not functioning to the best of it's ability. Unless they got the math wrong. Either way, we need a fix, and we need it fast."

The flight surgeon cleared his throat. "It is imperative that we find a solution soon. If we don't, our boys will suffer from blackouts, confusion, disorientation and brain asphyxiation."

The symptoms set an even grimmer and darker mood on the meeting. "Thank you Doc. Is there anything else?"

"Yes, but I will let you know when the meeting is dissolved."

"I'll hold you to it." Gene turned to the technicians. "You know what you gotta do. Go do it. Don't come back until you've found a solution."

Scott approached the headstone with the flowers bunched in his hand. "I thought I'd find you here."

Virgil turned around in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Scott placed the flowers, a dozen carnations next to the headstone and sat next to Virgil, pulling him in for a hug. "You're freezing. What have you been doing?"

"Stuff."

"You've had everyone worried about you. Grandma was frantic when I left."

A shameful feeling of guilt prickled down Virgil's spine. "I'm sorry. She has enough to worry about right now. I just, I needed to find myself. Does that make sense? I needed someone to talk to. I needed someone to listen."

"Come on, let's get you home. I have a spare helmet and your jacket in the storage box."

"You know, Dad wouldn't..."

"What Dad doesn't know won't hurt him." Scot interrupted. "Are you coming?"

"How can you be so flippant?!" Virgil exploded, rounding on his brother. "Does it mean nothing to you? Are you not affected by the deaths on Orbita? Are you even human? Capable of human emotions? Grief? Anger? Sorrow? How can you shrug off his death, like it was nothing?!" Tears were now flowing freely from Virgil, and he made no move to wipe them away.

Scott stood there, blinking at the verbal onslaught Virgil was throwing at him. It took a few moments for his brain to catch up. "Virg, Dad and the others are OK. They're still alive. You need to watch the TV sometime."

"They are?" Virgil echoed, his tears drying up instantly, as he dared to believe.

"Would I, of all people, lie to you, Virg?" Scott asked rhetorically. "Exactly. Now, we need to get back, otherwise Grandma will skin me alive for being late."

Virgil nodded, and turned back to the headstone. "Thanks for listening, Mom."

"Se you later, Mom." Scott gave the headstone one last look, before steering Virgil away to his bike.

Jeff shook his muggy head, trying to disperse the fog that had formed inside it. He dragged his body towards the emergency compartment, and pulled out the box. "Houston," he slurred breathlessly. "I have the box. Please tell me you've found a solution."

AN: please review.