Eve and Skylar both blinked, then burst out laughing, head-tipping, stomach-clutching cackles that cut through me.
My cheeks flushed. “Why did you say I killed your brother?” I retorted, trying to shut them up.
It did. Right away.
Both faces dropped.
Skylar’s expression hardened. “Because of you, he’s dead.”
I felt bad for what I’d said, even though it wasn’t my fault. How could it be? Perhaps my character had been a mass-murdering psychopath before I’d arrived and taken over his body, but I was not that dude.
I looked down, but, as with my Ayesha demonstration earlier, I still wore my real-world jeans and shirt, and the faint outline in the window reflected my features back at me. Not a stranger’s, not an avatar or an alien.
I turned my head.
Yep, that was me, all right. Or a digital representation of me, at least. I touched my face. The game was so realistic—an odd feeling.
Returning my attention to Skylar, I tried to sound sincere and truthful, speaking in what I hoped came across as a calm, level tone, though my stomach squirmed as my emotions edged closer to full-on panic. “I didn’t do anything to anyone.”
“I’ll ask again.” She leaned toward the glass. “Who are you? Where are you from? What division?”
“I only know my name,” I lied, hoping she believed me. “I’ve lost my memory. Last thing I remember is being in that damn box.” I jerked my thumb at the casket floating in the corner of the airlock room.
“Stasis bed,” Eve said.
“Bed?” I repeated. “You call that coffin a bed? Why was I in it?”
Still not opening the door, Skylar raised her arm with the vambrace, and I recoiled.
The crystals glowed blue, and energy rippled across the back of her hand like water. She twisted her fingers and projected a holographic image onto the window between us, displaying a security camera recording of the hallway with both doors to the airlock room open.
Two kids appeared.
One looked younger than me—fifteen, same as Skylar, with white hair, dark eyes, and a slender physique. From his matching robotic arms and legs and general appearance, I gathered he was Skylar’s twin brother.
I gauged the other guy to be around fourteen, but rather than being human like Eve, Skylar, and her brother—apart from the latter two’s cyborg limbs, of course—this new kid reminded me of the aliens from the crashed taxi.
What had Grandpa John called them?
Jyerool?
The alien boy had similar features to a human, but larger than normal eyes, dreadlocked red hair, and dark greyish skin with tinges of pink in his cheeks.
He wore a vambrace too, although his extended over the back of his right hand, complete with another blue crystal.
Both kids also wore all-in-one jumpsuits with hard-shell packs, and they struggled between them to drag a stasis bed into the airlock.
I glanced over my shoulder, then back. While there was only space and destruction outside now, the holographic video showed a long, red-walled corridor.
Skylar’s brother used his vambrace to send wisps of blue and purple magical smoke across the stasis bed’s lid. “I still can’t open it.”
My stomach tightened.
I didn’t need to ask who was inside.
Skylar paused the image and pointed at him. “That’s Mason,” she snapped. Then she nodded at the alien kid. “That’s Kelvin. He also died because of you.”
I ground my teeth. Nice to see she was determined to blame me for something I hadn’t done.
The recording resumed.
The door between the airlock and the hallway was closed, but through the window I could see two other stasis beds, with Eve and Skylar’s pale faces behind glass.
Mason’s vambrace glowed. He went to open the hallway door with a gesture, but a bang jolted the ship and sent him flying across the room, slamming into the opposite wall. My stasis bed did the same, sliding along the floor and missing him by fractions of an inch.
“Suits,” Mason screamed.
Both kids pressed their shoulders, and helmets sprung from their collars, covering their heads. A split second later, a section of wall tore from the red hallway.
Air blasted from the airlock room, pushing Kelvin out of the door and through the hole in the wall into space.
Mason took hold of the door frame, his face screwed up, and reached forward, waving his hand from side to side. As he did so, another explosion ripped the back section of the ship clean off, driving Mason down the red hallway with it. The airlock door slammed, and my stasis bed lifted into the air as the artificial gravity failed.
Skylar lowered her arm, and the image vanished.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and meant it. “If I’d had any control over what happened . . .”
Tears filled Skylar’s eyes, literally. Instead of streaming down her face, they balled in the corners, growing larger with every silent sob, until she brushed them away, sending them drifting through the air to splash against the nearest wall.
Eve rested a hand on her shoulder. “Let him out,” she said in a hushed voice. “Kelvin was right. We need all the help we can get. It wasn’t Leo’s fault. The boys must have known he has a CodeX implant. That’s why they rescued him. They were trying to save us all.”
Skylar sniffed, brushed away more tears, and raised her arm, but the overhead lights flickered and went out, plunging us into darkness.
Great.
Now what?
Sixteen
I gripped the airlock doorframe and floated in complete blackness as more debris thudded into the ship’s hull, sending tremors into my fingertips and along my arms.
Two spots of light appeared in the gloom on the other side of the window as both Skylar and Eve held up their glowing vambraces, lighting the airlock.
“What’s going on?” My chest tightened with every impact and muted explosion.
Eve’s lips moved, but no sound came out.
I checked the speaker grate above the door. No power.
Duh.
Ethereal smoke swirled around Skylar’s vambrace and into the door itself, but after a few seconds, she opened a panel to the side. She messed about with the mechanism for a minute, pumping one of the levers up and down, then gave up on that too, shaking her head at Eve.
I guessed that meant I was trapped.
Again.
Awesome.
After a brief, animated consultation with Skylar, Eve turned back to the window and signalled me to pay attention to her. She paused for a beat and mouthed a single word.
I stared at her, not sure, assuming I’d read her lips incorrectly.
At least I hoped I had.
She repeated the word. “Herpes.”
Hmm.
“Herpes,” she said again, gesturing over my shoulder.
I shook my head.
Nope.
Eve and Skylar had another quick exchange and came up with an alternative plan.
Now they were attempting sign language.
Great.
First Skylar pointed at me, then gestured at the other door, finishing up by making a pulling motion with her fingers.
“You want me to go over there?”
Both of them nodded.
“Fine.” I turned around and pushed off the wall.
I was getting the hang of this weightless nonsense now. The only problem was, with the last movement, I realised how sick I felt.
Like, really unwell.
Sweating too.
A lot.
And my head throbbed.
Was I losing oxygen or suffering from motion sickness?
As if in answer, my stomach churned, and bile rose into my throat, so my guess fell squarely on the latter theory. When I flew to the States with Mum and Dad, I had taken travel-sickness tablets beforehand. Then I’d spent most of the flight in a drowsy stupor.
No such luck here.
I grabbed the oppo
site doorframe and closed my eyes for a moment, but it didn’t help. The feeling got worse as my body drifted beneath me. Or above me? I still had no sense of which way was up or down, and my brain seemed to slosh about my skull cavity like jelly in a bucket of water.
Every part of my concentration fought the urge to hurl. I gritted my teeth, opened my eyes, and faced the other door.
I frowned as Skylar and Eve pointed to my left.
Nothing there—only a blank wall next to the door.
I shrugged, but Eve and Skylar still pointed, insisting I looked closer.
Eve resumed mouthing, “Herpes.”
Turning my body in the air, I hand-walked down the outer edge of the door, my attention on the wall. Finally, I spotted it—a circular handle an inch in diameter embedded into the surrounding woodwork.
Eve motioned for me to grab it and pull. I did and yanked a section of wall panel away.
Revealed was a cavity—a locker complete with a jumpsuit, and another all-in-one outfit hanging behind—with a thick, solid collar and belt. To the side of those hung a backpack like the ones Mason and Kelvin had worn. Above the locker, a plaque read: EMERGENCY EVA SUIT.
Both Eve and Skylar pointed above the suit itself.
Eve continued to mouth, “Herpes,” while Skylar said, “Hatchet.”
Confused, I looked again, and that’s when I noticed a recess toward the top of the locker. I pulled out a semi-circular grey band around half an inch thick and five inches in diameter.
The girls gestured for me to place it around my head, above my ears.
I slid the band down. It moved, gripping my skull, and I fought the urge to tug the band free and throw it away.
“Can you hear us?”
I spun around.
Eve’s voice came from my mind, like listening to an audiobook or a podcast with stereo headphones on, but somehow this really sounded as though it came from inside my skull.
I tried not to shudder. “I can hear you.”
“Good.” Eve talked into her vambrace. “We normally use these, but you haven’t got one, so the band is the next best thing.”
A shadow moved past the window behind her, followed by a loud boom, and the entire spaceship trembled.
My grip slipped from the doorframe, my body twisted in the air, and I bumped into a side wall. Swearing, I pushed off and returned to the locker.
“Are you two okay?” I asked.
“We’re fine,” Eve said. “Space debris.”
Skylar raised her arm, gestured with her fingers, and brought up a three-dimensional schematic of the ship. “This section is about to break away,” she said. “We need to move forward.” She faced Eve, her expression panicked. “We have to get out of here. Now.”
“What happened?” I said. “What’s going on?”
Skylar’s expression darkened. “They destroyed the whole Antarian fleet.”
“Destroyed?” I said. “Who? And why?”
“We don’t know yet,” Eve said. “The fleet was well-protected. It must have been someone very powerful.”
“Kraythons.” Skylar pointed along the corridor and addressed me. “Meet us there if you want to live. The manual door controls between us are jammed.”
“Over half of the ship has gone,” Eve said. “But we think the bridge is intact. We were heading up there to see the captain, and you need to come with us.”
“If the captain’s alive,” Skylar murmured. “If anyone’s left alive.”
Eve rounded on her. “Don’t say that. We’re here, which means others will be too.” She faced me again. “There’s another emergency airlock down that way, and the hatch is still working. You must get to it and—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I said in sudden realisation. “Hold up. You want me to go outside? Into space? In all the floaty, cold, dangerous stuff?”
They were insane.
My health meter had returned to nineteen percent, but it wasn’t budging further. I wanted at least one hundred before I attempted something so foolhardy.
I gave Eve a dubious look. “Yeah, no. Not happening.”
Skylar waved a dismissive hand. “Let him die in there.”
She went to leave, but Eve gripped her arm.
“He has a CodeX implant. The captain will need him.”
“An implant which doesn’t work.” Skylar shrugged herself free. “What use is it to any of us unless it’s active?”
I wondered if there was a way to stop it all. Can I get a message to Ayesha, or, failing that, the outside world? I peered around the airlock. But how? Will the bridge have something I can use?
Another bang rumbled through the ship, followed by the sounds of wrenching metal and cracking wood.
Eve indicated the locker. “Put on both parts of the suit.”
“These will keep me alive?” The outfits were nothing like the bulky space suits astronauts wore. Especially the first one, which was skintight, more appropriate for an interpretive dance recital or ballet performance, and right at that moment, I felt like doing neither.
“Put the undersuit on first.” Eve pointed. “And then the looser-fitting EVA suit over the top.”
Yet another rumble tore through the ship.
Skylar peered about her. “This hallway can only take a few more hits, and it will tear free. We need to get to the other end and seal the next bulkhead door. Let’s leave him and go.”
“He has a CodeX,” Eve hissed. “He’s worth the risk. Be patient.”
Skylar glared at her vambrace readout. “A few minutes more. That’s it.”
I huffed and muttered under my breath as I unhooked the first suit from the locker. The back of it hung open, so, floating across the room in a slightly-less-than-graceful manner, I tried to slip my legs inside.
“No,” Eve said, interrupting me. “You can’t put it on over your clothes.”
I bounced off the wall and grimaced at her as I rolled past the window. “Seriously?” I still wore what I’d had on in Colorado—jeans, a shirt, and trainers. Perhaps the CodeX had duplicated them for the game.
I wasn’t sure about anything.
The entire world was a nightmare.
One where I would surely die.
I drifted back to the inner door, grabbed the frame with my free hand, and looked back at the girls. “Can I at least keep my underwear on?”
“Eww.” Skylar turned away.
Eve grinned and faced the other direction too.
I gained an appreciation for astronauts because of how damn-near impossible it is to get changed in a zero-g environment. One second you’re floating, the next you’re bouncing off the nearest blinkin’ wall.
I have never sworn so much in my life.
With no gravity and nothing to steady myself against, every movement sent me twisting around like a drowning maggot.
I managed to take off my shirt, jeans, and trainers, which required more effort and concentration than I had given anything in my entire life, and I threw them away, only to have my jeans return a while later and wrap around my face.
Once I’d slipped my feet down the legs of the spacesuit, I hoped it would get easier, but no. No, life couldn’t be that simple, could it?
After an encouraging and extremely helpful, “Are you done yet? Hurry up,” from Skylar, followed by, “What are you playing at, oolak?” which I guessed was her way of calling me a moron, I wriggled my arms into their respective sleeves and shook, rattled, and rolled myself into the suit.
Then, with a heavy sigh, I unclipped the other suit and slipped it on over the top.
Panting, with sweat beading on my forehead, I clipped the belt together and was about to say I’d finished, except for how the heck did they expect me to zip up the back of the stupid things, when a warm sensation radiated across my lower back as they fastened. Then the whole undersuit moved, tightening around me.
It loosened again.
“Argh.”
Both girls turned to the window.
&nb
sp; “What’s wrong?” Eve asked.
The undersuit tightened, loosened, tightened, loosened . . .
Squeezing, relaxing, squeezing, relaxing . . .
I relayed this information to Eve in breathless gasps.
“He can’t control it,” Skylar said as more debris thudded into the ship. “Leave him. We’re done.”
“Give him a chance,” Eve said.
Skylar glared at her. “We’re going to die here.”
“You’ve bonded to the suit,” Eve said to me. “But you need to control it.”
The spacesuit kept tightening and loosening.
“How?”
“Relax,” Eve said. “And focus.”
I took a breath and did as she suggested. The suit’s underlayer tightened, loosened, then the back finally sealed shut.
After a couple of seconds—making sure it wasn’t going to move again—I ran my hands over the fabric, feeling ribs, spars, and tubes woven into the lower layer, while the upper layer remained loose fitting. The spacesuit had adjusted to my frame and was creating even pressure on every limb and muscle fibre. The material covering my chest, shoulders, elbows, forearms, hips, shins, and knees expanded and hardened to form solid armour, like an exoskeleton protecting the vulnerable parts of my body.
To say it felt weird would be an understatement, but at the same time, it offered me a reassuring, comfortable experience, as though I’d been wrapped in a blanket. I flexed my arms and legs, and though the suit made some resistance, they still moved freely.
Nearing a wall, I gave it a light tap and drifted back to the EVA locker. Once there, I held onto the frame and turned around.
“Put on the gloves, boots, and pack,” Eve said as another shudder rumbled through the ship, followed by more wrenching metal and a loud snapping sound.
This time I could hold onto the locker with one hand while the other set to work. Once gloves and boots were in place and secure, I examined the hard-shell pack. It was light grey with several holes along the outside edge. Three jets—at least I thought they were jets—protruded from the back section.
I pulled it on. The straps tightened across my shoulders, and a panel slid in front of my chest.
Okay, now I smiled.
“What is this?”
“Life support and MMU,” Skylar said, glancing over her shoulder. “We need to hurry, Eve. This is ridiculous. We’re wasting time with this oolak.”
GAME SPACE - Full Novel Page 8
