“Huh,” Kim says, tilting a glance at Scarlett that suggests surprise that she has made such a perceptive point. But it is a sensible supposition.
“We must know more,” I declare. “Knowledge is key. We have twenty-eight minutes until that second quantum pulse we witnessed hits the sail, and then the station, which may disable vital components within. And if the station core is breaching, it is only a matter of time before the station itself is disabled. We should proceed.”
“With what?” asks Lieutenant Kim, wary once more.
“With establishing the facts,” I reply. “The precipitant appears constant, but without further data, the persistent nature of the temporal anomaly cannot be assumed to be without a rate of decay.”
The lieutenant wears an expression that is familiar to me, though I have not experienced it as often lately. It means she has no idea what I am talking about. She looks at Scarlett, who looks at Finian.
Finian translates. “She means that since we don’t know what kicked off the loop, we don’t know if it’ll keep going forever. We might run out of time.”
“Well, let’s get moving,” Kim says. “Do you have spacesuits?”
“I’m taking it you have an idea for getting us aboard?” Scarlett asks.
“Depends,” Lieutenant Kim says. “Are you EVA-certified?”
“Some of us more than others,” our Face replies, wry. “Fin’ll help me. He’s great in zero gee.”
“You have no idea,” Finian grins.
Lieutenant Kim studies Finian for a moment, then looks away, as if she does not wish to remind herself she is assisting a Betraskan. I assume her military training has taught her to trust her instincts, to deal with high-pressure situations while keeping a clear head. With no viable alternative explanation, she seems prepared to believe what her own senses are telling her for now. But I admit to mild admiration that she is taking this situation so well.
The lieutenant looks at me, and I realize I am staring.
I avert my gaze, dipping my head so my hair tumbles over my eyes.
“The whole station will be on high alert,” she warns. “The test malfunction was less than twenty minutes ago. They’ll be wondering if it was sabotage, and they will shoot you on sight. My ship’s got a cargo hold, but it’s gonna be a hell of a tight squeeze, so I hope you three like each other. A lot.”
I see Finian and Scarlett exchange a quick glance.
“I’m going to take you to a tertiary airlock,” Kim continues. “If we’re lucky, security’s going to be too busy with the core breach to notice.”
“And if we’re unlucky?” Scarlett asks.
Fin musters a thin smile. “Eleventh time’s the charm?”
? ? ? ? ?
Despite the cramped conditions of the fighter’s cargo hold, we reach the station quickly, and it is a simple EVA to the airlock, which is open to space and ready to receive supplies. Scarlett clearly finds it trying—even after we are safely tucked inside, she holds Finian’s hand.
At least, I think that is the reason.
Lieutenant Kim has instructed us to wait inside the airlock. She will dock her fighter and report to her superiors. Then, when she can slip away, she will equalize the pressure within the airlock before admitting us to the station, hopefully unobserved.
We wait in silence. I can see the vast, roiling blackness through the airlock viewport, lit by momentary flashes of energy—sullen mauve, laced with deeper darkness. I do my best to ignore the way the storm makes my skin crawl. Its power is almost inconceivable, and the thought that the scientists aboard this station sought to tame it makes me … uneasy.
I can admit to myself that the sensation I experience when the outer doors begin to close is pure relief. We must ensure we are standing on the ground when gravity kicks in so we do not fall. I glide down to take my place beside Finian, Scarlett on his other side, to offer him support. The sensation of gravity reasserting itself is unpleasant for him.
A green light comes on beside the airlock’s inner doors to indicate pressure has equalized, and we remove our helmets as the doors slide open. But instead of Lieutenant Kim, we are confronted by three Terran soldiers with SECURITY stamped across their breastplates.
A small part of my mind notes with bemusement that they are wearing camouflage. They are in space. What use is the camouflage?
They raise their weapons.
“Oh, come on,” says Finian. “You’ve gotta be—”
BLAM.
9