Alone on the Edge (The Chronicles of Anna Foster)

by Patrick Stutzman

  “To protect this human, engage the shields and fire thrusters at maximum burn.”

  Instantly, she heard the ship’s engines roar to life. The sudden lurch forward shoved Anna into the back of her seat for a second before the inertial dampeners kicked in.

  “I guess he was right about those dampeners,” she commented.

  “Anna,” Adam interrupted. “It is time.”

  Anna paused for a second, dreading what she was about to say. But, she knew she had to say it for any kind of closure.

  “Adam, I ... I think I love you.”

  “I know, Anna.”

  She felt the tears rising again, accompanied by a soft lump in her throat. She sniffed them back, took a deep breath, and softly said, “Goodbye, Adam.”

  “Goodbye, Anna.”

  The still silence she heard over the open channel suddenly burst into static. Anna lost control again and cried uncontrollably for a few seconds, until the shockwave from the explosion slammed into the ship and sent it tumbling out of control. As it spun nose over tail, Anna thought that she could see that they were rapidly moving closer to the gas giant.

  “Computer,” Anna ordered after sobering up from her emotional outburst. “Straighten us out.”

  “Unable to comply.”

  “What now?”

  “You do not have sufficient authorization to operate this vessel.”

  “But, we are out of control!”

  “Sensors do not detect any objects that will cause damage to this vessel or its human occupant at this time.”

  Slightly frustrated, Anna sighed, “I wish I was a programmer right now.”

  Over an hour passed as the ship tumbled through space. Anna could do nothing but sit in the pilot’s seat and helplessly watch the stars and planet spin around her. Amidst the silence that fell between her and the computer, she finally calmed down and realized that she was hungry. Before she could unbuckle and search for food, the computer disrupted her thoughts.

  “Warning: proximity alert!” it announced. “Warning: proximity alert!”

  Anna, whipping her gaze forward, asked, “What’s there, computer?”

  The forward holographic control panel came to life and displayed the 3-dimensional sensor readout. Taking up over half of the display was the surface of the earthlike moon rapidly advancing toward the center of the hologram.

  “Time to impact?” Anna inquired.

  “Estimated time until impact is 3.69 minutes.”

  “Activate emergency landing procedures.”

  “Unable to ...”

  “Don’t you DARE!” Anna interrupted. “You are obligated to protect me, now do it!”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Anna sat back as the ship’s maneuvering thrusters engaged and brought the spinning to a halt. With the vessel now pointing in the direction of its flight, she saw the surface of the moon fill her entire view to the point that she could clearly see details of the moon’s surface.

  “Oh, shit!” she screamed in horror.

  The engines fired as the computer plotted a safe landing trajectory and adjusted their flight path. Their roar stuttered after a few seconds and died just after entering the atmosphere. The sudden silence sent a chill down Anna’s spine.

  “Computer, what just happened?” she asked fearfully.

  “Engine failure. It appears that they sustained damage from the impact of the explosion’s shockwave.”

  “Please don’t tell me that!” Anna pleaded.

  “But, you asked.”

  “Details!”

  The craft quickly descended into the atmosphere and, despite its winged aerodynamic design, started to heat up from the friction against the air. Anna watched bodies of water and land masses zip by beneath her at blinding speed.

  “Computer, we need to slow down.”

  “Unable to comply. Engines are offline.”

  She stated anxiously, “There must be something we can do!”

  The computer did not respond, leaving Anna with only her thoughts. She wracked her brain for ideas on how to decrease their speed. But, each one required something unavailable to her. Finally, she had an idea that might work.

  “Computer,” she began. “What is our angle of descent?”

  “We are currently descending at 30 degrees lower than the tangential ...”

  “Thirty degrees is fine,” interrupted Anna, waving away the extra details. “Use the maneuvering thrusters to raise the nose of the ship up to a point 45 degrees above our current angle. Hopefully, that will slow us down enough to survive.

  “And, don’t even THINK of saying you’re unable to comply!”

  A mere second passed, before the maneuvering thrusters engaged. Slowly, Anna’s view of the surface disappeared to be replaced with the moon’s light blue sky. She felt the ship slow its descent, even though she did not drastically move as a result.

  After watching the clouds rush by for several seconds, Anna idly wondered when they would hit the ground and searched the holopanel hanging in the air in front of her for the altimeter. Failing to find it, she asked, “Computer, what is our altitude?”

  “Our current altitude is 30,000 meters ... mark.”

  “Do you have any landing gear that you can deploy?”

  “Yes, but our current speed is too fast for them to be effective.”

  “At our current rate of descent, when do you estimate we would be able to safely deploy the landing gear?”

  A couple of seconds passed, and the computer responded, “Five meters.”

  “Five meters?!” Anna exclaimed. “Are you serious?!”

  “Yes, Anna.”

  Anna’s mind raced with possible outcomes of her landing, and none of them yielded a positive outcome. She wondered if her death was imminent, if she had just delayed the inevitable and would meet her end here instead of the airless depths of space nearby. She reflected back on the last hour, speculating on what she could have done differently to create a better chance of survival.

  She had an idea.

  “Computer,” Anna ordered. “Begin landing procedures at 500 meters and see if we can land this ship safely on the surface.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Focusing on the sensor display, Anna watched the landscape scroll underneath the image of the ship, growing larger as they approached the ground. A low mountain range and forests moved along, followed by a long stretch of lake and more trees. All the while, their speed continued to decrease.

  Finally, the sound of the maneuvering thrusters firing in three short bursts and the sound of the landing gear coming out of their compartments warned Anna to brace herself for whatever would happen. She gripped the arms of the flight chair and instinctively extended her legs out in front of her. She leaned her head back as the sound of trees whipping against the hull filled her ears. As she shut her eyes, the ship violently jolted from the sudden impact and bounced into the air again. Thrown forward against her restraints and just as quickly against the back of the seat, she fought against inertia and dug her fingers into the upholstery, desperate to remain seated.

  Suddenly, everything went black.

  Epilogue

  Sounds of hissing and sparks faded into existence, followed by a mild groan. Slowly, Anna opened her eyes. Still strapped to the pilot’s chair, she looked around her, unsure of how long she had been unconscious. The view through the forward window was obstructed by what appeared to be dirt, but a little light filtered through. Sparks spat out of the forward console and showered the floor in front of her. Beyond that, the compartment appeared, for the most part, to have survived the landing.

  Anna suddenly became aware of a throbbing pain coming from the back of her head. She covered the area with her hand and discovered a very tender, sizeable bump had formed. Accidentally applying a little too much pressure, she winced from the surge of pain that shot through her skull. With a heavy sigh, she unbuckled from the chair and carefully stood up.

  The floor still seem
ed stable and mostly level, though leaning slightly toward the nose of the craft. She turned around and stared aftward through the dim light. The bridge appeared to be the same, but she noticed that her tool belt had slid forward along the floor and some of the tools had scattered about. Resting against the back of her chair was the sidearm she had procured from Ryan. Snorting at what had hit her from behind, she picked up the pistol and retrieved her tool belt, vowing to gather the rest of her tools later.

  Holstering the weapon into an open pouch on her hip for the time being, she walked to the airlock and climbed up to the outer hatch, eager to take a look at her new home. Sunlight assaulted her eyesight as soon as the portal opened to the outside air. Blinking the brightness away while her vision adjusted, she took a deep breath of the warm air and climbed out.

  The ship, which appeared mostly intact despite its harsh landing, rested at the end of a trench it had cut through the forest. Small fires littered the wood that the ship had splintered earlier. Anna strained to listen for any sounds of nature nearby, but only heard the wind. She looked across her surroundings and studied the thick forest around her. Several trees looked similar to some of the ones she remembered from home, while others were unrecognizable. Looking to the sky, she recognized the white disk she knew as g Lupi peeking around the faint curve of the gas giant she had once exploited for the employer that now wanted her dead.

  “Well, Anna,” she sighed. “Welcome to Paradise.”