Not to mention, she’s kind of holding me captive right now?
And, good grief, the captain laughs. It’s a deep sound pulled from low in her belly, as though she genuinely found that funny.
I might actually win her over. Before I can comment—I’m barelybreathing—a voice rings out in the room. I jump a foot in the air but Tanisira barely stirs.
“Captain to the bridge immediately. Captain to the bridgeimmediately.” It’s a husky voice, English accent, urgent tone. Any light in Tanisira’s expression burns away, and within seconds, she’s just as she was when I first met her.Yesterday, I have to remind myself; it feels like so much longer.
Tanisira has her slate out in seconds. “Eat something,” she says, distractedly, before sweeping out of the cabin.
I don’t even think about it—I hurry on her heels in the hopes of catching the door before it closes. I may never get this chance again. Pain lances through my knee as I wedge my foot between the door and the jamb, but I grit my teeth and bear it. I can always take more painkillers later. The door slides open as soon as it detects pressure. I almost fall over in shock. Holy shit, I did it.
Unfortunately, I can’t go back into the cabin to get the discarded boots, or I’ll lock myself in again. Looking down at my socked feet, I can only hope that whoever cleans this big arse ship is thorough about it. I glance back at the cart with some regret and then peer out into the passageway. The captain is nowhere in sight.
I dart out of the cabin and head in the opposite direction from our earlier path. Maybe the AI—Kit—will flag my movements, but I’m hoping that my hunch is correct and no one on the ship knows about me. Or at least that Tanisira will be too busy dealing with whatever crisis to come find me. I move onto the deck above, looking for Vee and systematically clearing cabins. So far, I’ve seen no one and nothing that might help. But I am being more thorough than I was before, now that I’m not worried about the ship launching.
Suddenly, an alarm cuts through the air. It’s loud and shrill enough to pierce my eardrums. For one heart-shredding moment, I think the alarm is forme. My pulse kicks into overdrive, and I consider hiding in one of the unlocked cabins. But then the blaring is undercut by a voice.
It’s Tanisira’s. She sounds oddly calm, if a little tense.
“All passengers are to seek shelter in the nearest cabin and strap themselves in. A surprise micrometeorite swarm is crossing our trajectory. I’ll be carrying out evasive manoeuvres, and you will experience discomfort. I repeat, strap yourselves in.”
Micrometeorite swarm?
I gape around me as if there might be anyone to share my surprise with. There isn’t. On the plus side, the door I had just tried and found locked now opens. I duck inside, wonderingwhereI’m supposed to strap myself in. But because of the emergency, a thick harness hangs from the overhead above every seat in the room, alongside oxygen masks. The cabin itself is a small gym, and I hurry to the sturdiest-looking seat right at the back. The idea of being surrounded by all this heavy equipment during ‘evasive manoeuvres’ makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
I strap in anyway. No sooner than I’ve done that, the ship banks to starboard. All the air is cut out of my lungs as the harness does its job. I hear what must be the sound of several micrometeorites pinging off the hull, and blood rushes to my head. It sounds like hail on a tin roof... except I don’t often worry hail is going to puncture holes in the roof and I’ll be sucked into space.
TheMidasmakes a move that presses me into the seat with an almost unbearable pressure. The terror that claws up my throat only serves to double that weight. I brace against the harness and hope Vee is okay, that he’s somewhere safe and got strapped down in time. I wish I were with him. The resulting ache is so strong that I could cry. In a split second of stupidity, I go to undo the harness, but I can’t even unfurl my fists. It’s a blessing, really, because a second later the ship banks violently again. The sounds send little knives into my nerves. Gaia, I hope someone is with Vee.
I don’t know how long this goes on, but by the time the sounds of impact fade away and theMidasseems to level out, my torso feels like a punching bag. I don’t bruise easily but this will leave some truly fantastic welts across my chest, and my thighs are sore from the harness.
I peel my eyes open, wondering if we’re out of danger. I’m dying to unclip myself and get going, but I wait, even though I’m so impatient my skin feels like it’s about to start sloughing off.
“We’re now clear of the micrometeorite field. Be careful of loose or fallen debris as you move through the ship. If you need medical attention, please go to the med bay.”
I’m out of the harness before the announcement is over. Biting back expletives, I drag my bruk up body out of the gym, determined to find Vee. Despite the chaos, there isstillno one else on this deck. I want to scream. A persistent sense of dread pulses through me, tunnelling into my veins. I won’t be able to breathe freely again until I see my son. I want to know he’s safe and well, and I want to know now.
I’ve had enough of skulking around this fucking ship trying to find him. And, as much as I understand the captain’s position, fuckher. I’m scared and I’m pissed off and I’m fucking starving.
Spinning on my heel, I head back to one of the galleys I’d passed. It’s small and seems to be for personal use. Despite smart shelving, a few things have toppled over; spices spill from jars and rice is scattered everywhere. The dominant material in the galley is chrome, but there are accents of wood that look stylish and expensive. There’s a small food printer sitting front and centre—not useful to me right now. But there is also an AllPrep for those who prefer a homemade meal—perfect.
I limp into the galley and prop the door open behind me with some difficulty; fire doors are not meant to be left open, and I have to disconnect the table from its fastenings to keep it ajar. After rummaging through the cupboards, I find some crackers, shove one into my mouth, and wince at just how dry it is. Then I manage to pull the AllPrep towards me and open up the backpanel. With a mouthful of dust, I fiddle around in the machine’s guts.
This model can detect smoke and immediately shut the heat off. Having fixed my battered AllPrep a few times, I’m familiar with its innards. I detach some important wires and introduce a delay into the fireproofing process. Fire on a spacecraft is so dangerous, but I don’t plan to let it get that far. There’s no real danger. In theory.
I set the AllPrep to grill, drape a towel on a rack and leave the door open. Taking a few steps back, I watch intently as the first spark flickers against the fabric. Smoke forms and I wait nervously for the ship to detect it, excruciatingly aware of time. A second has never felt so long, but I persevere. A ship like theMidaswill have extensive fire retardation procedures in place.
It’ll be fine.
Then, a gust of dry powder shoots out of a small vent above the AllPrep. At the same time, the appliance shuts down. The galley door slams shut, shooting the table out into the corridor. I flinch.
With the sparks extinguished, tiny trails of smoke fade into the air and an acidic odour melds with that of singed fabric. A bitter aftertaste settles in the back of my throat. My mouth is too dry to swallow.
A voice sounds from behind me. Tanisira’s.
“How... I’ve been looking for you—” There’s a sharp inhale. “What are you doing?”
I’m not sure if the small panel housing the speaker has a camera in it as well. I don’t turn to face it, worried that all my nervous energy will show on my face. I’m trying to portray strength and daring, never mind that my hands shake violently.
