by I. O. Adler
Barrett moved for the exit.
Carmen stopped him with a metal hand. “Jenna first.”
She moved the bot to the doorway and peered down at the approaching hazard suits. Two of the team held small video recorders. One waved a wand device back and forth while another was typing on a tablet strapped to his wrist. A woman led the charge, her face barely visible through the shine of her plastic visor.
She raised a hand in a greeting. “I’m Doctor Greta Leavitt. We received your message. Are you Carmen Vincent? Can you understand me?”
A surge of emotion surprised Carmen. She almost couldn’t speak. “That’s me. Come help my sister. She’s on board. Please hurry, she’s—”
Again the shadow shifted, a blur along a wall of the sphere. But as it moved it took on dimension, a shape, as if an unseen hand had peeled away a sheet of transparent film and was bringing it towards her. A crisp shock rolled through her fingers and feet and up through her spine.
The scientists and soldiers, the sphere, Agent Barrett, and Jenna all vanished in a flash.
Deimos Station Chapter Three
Coming fully awake felt like pancake syrup was chugging through Carmen’s veins. She wiped the eye crusties away. Her saliva had turned to book paste and her throat was dry. When she sat up, the world spun, forcing her to cling to the edge of the flight bed.
Still on board She Who Waits’ shuttle, she confirmed. But the shuttle was no longer in flight, the artificial gravity provided by forward motion replaced with a looping spin that was nausea-inducing now that Carmen had elevated her head.
They had completed their voyage to the Framework. Carmen had known it would be faster than her journey to Earth. She tottered to the sink the Dragoman had created in the rear hold of her ship, washed out her mouth, and drank deeply.
What happened?
She had piloted the sphere to the hospital, was facing the waiting soldiers and scientists, and…blank.
She returned to the bunk and accessed the com node. Waited the infuriating several minutes as the node tried to reconnect her to the harvester. An untranslated message popped up in her mind. She blinked it away and tried again. Counted the seconds. At the six hundred mark the message repeated.
From what she could learn from the com node, the harvester was gone.
“Are you there?” she called.
Her voice went unanswered inside the shuttle interior. She rose again and searched the shuttle. The rear bay had two rows of columns and a pedestal near the door to the front compartment. She Who Waits had never let her see the front of the ship. Carmen had guessed it was a space where the translator might leave her shell or protective suit and enjoy the thick atmosphere, which might be toxic to a human.
A tiny bathroom stood empty. A receptacle tucked into the foot of the crash couch had several of the food bars along with a few packets of liquid that smelled like orange soda. All edible, as Carmen had discovered, if not particularly appealing.
But the thought of food was far from her mind as her apprehension built. She needed to know what was happening with her sister. She Who Waits could send a message to Earth, couldn’t she? And what had interrupted the com signal?
The Melded. Somehow it was them, she guessed, either blocking the signal or finding some way to hack the harvester controls remotely. Answers would be hard to come by while stuck on the shuttle.
A hatch near the rear led to the airlock. She wobbled as she looked inside. A floating blimp bot waited for her. The football-sized machine floated closer.
“Can you call her? Hello? She Who Waits, are you there?”
The bot didn’t respond.
“Well, what can you tell me?”
The bot’s voice sounded like three or more voices, male and female, layered together. “She Who Waits is attending the Framework council.”
“Let me talk to her.”
“Her relayed message is that designate Carmen Vincent is to wait aboard the shuttle.”
“I’ve seen her translate between three different people, four if we include her. She can’t put me in the loop?”
The bot hovered without a reply.
“Then can you connect me again to the harvester? Or send a signal to Earth? I have to find out what’s happening.”
Carmen waited for a frustrating moment for the bot to say anything. If it had relayed the request to She Who Waits, the Dragoman translator wasn’t answering. She touched the hatch and tried to find a button that might open it.
The bot moved up to eye level. “If you wish to leave the shuttle, you will need to wear the suit.” It shined a light on a beige garment and helmet hanging in a recessed compartment. It looked small.
“Is that for me? I’m supposed to put it on?”
Considering She Who Waits constantly wore a clear crystal shell that looked like a transparent support beam, Carmen realized that the air on the Framework might be anything but compatible to humans. Her question was silly.
“The suit was printed with your measurements. It will protect you from any undesirable effects within the Framework common areas. But the council requested you wait.”
She grabbed the suit. “Good to know.”
It was lighter than she expected, a full-body one-piece with a helmet. The material felt like soft leather. It clung to her and sealed tight once she stepped into it and pulled it up. The helmet, once pulled over her head, likewise molded around her neck. But before she could feel too constrained or claustrophobic, the material around her face went clear. She could see perfectly. She felt herself over and confirmed the suit covered her entire body. But there was no display of any sort to show how much air she had.
“This thing will warn me before I suffocate, right?”
The bot’s light winked out. “The suit will continuously convert the atmosphere inside the common areas of the Framework to one you’ll find comfortable.”
“I guess that’ll have to do. Take me to her.”
The bot led the way into the airlock, and she followed. She found herself holding her breath as one door closed and the air pulsed around her as if fans in the ceiling were being turned on and off. When the second door opened, there was no dramatic shift in the air. But the corridor beyond almost caused her to fall as she stepped into it. She leaned on one wall and waited as the bot scooted ahead.
She hadn’t taken the time to think about her arrival at the Framework. She had promised to return the harvester once she delivered Jenna. And now she was showing up empty-handed. The possibility of seeing her mom restored felt like it was slipping from her fingers.
She forced herself to breathe slower and focused on the bot. Then, with a hand on the wall to keep her balance, she made her way down the corridor to find the Framework council.
Keep reading Deimos Station by I.O. Adler.
