“You.” I hadn’t any wonder. “You’d be my perfect date, Jude.”
17
No Sleep
Jude
Iwoke to the station simulation sunrise. A soft glow climbed one curved wall of my quarters, bleeding slowly across metal and shadow until it reached the edge of my bed.
“Captain, it is 0500,” SOL said somewhere beside me. “You reached REM cycle at 0200 with a total four hours of sleep. I can adjust your schedule to accommodate—”
“That’s alright, SOL.” I scrubbed a hand down my face, and swung my legs over the edge of the mattress. “What time is my meeting with Admiral Pike?”
“1400 station time.”
“Mhm.” Cold soaked into the bottoms of my feet, I frowned down. A glass lay tipped on its side near the corner of my bed, slowly dripping the last ribbon of water across my sheets. A puddle shimmered on the floor beneath it. I stared at it for too long.
“...Did I knock that over?”
I grabbed the glass, stepping over the mountain of dirty laundry I’d piled against the wall. Yanking a towel free from somewhere under a jacket, I dropped it onto the puddle with my foot while shrugging into my station blues one-handed. “Alert Lieutenant Jones I will be in after I check on Solace.”
There was a fractional pause before SOL detached from its charging cradle and floated after me as I grabbed my jacket and boots from beside the door. “You skipped dinner yesterday.”
“I wasn’t hungry.” I shrugged, tying the laces, and buttoning my collar.
“You skipped breakfast as well.”
The door hissed open.
“You are exhibiting signs of elevated cortisol response, sleep deprivation, and malnutrition. As one of the principal engineers maintaining Echelon’s infrastructure, your continued health remains statistically beneficial to the survival of approximately thirty-seven thousand—”
“I’m eating,” I muttered.
“You are not.”
I grabbed a ration bar from the cabinet above the sink just to shut SOL up. “There. Happy?”
SOL rotated in the air beside me. “Moderately.”
I took one resentful bite as we stepped out into the corridor. It buzzed softly, dim morning lights reflecting along the curved steel walls while ventilation hummed somewhere deep beneath the flooring. Through one long port window, an ensign floated weightless against the black. Tethered to the exterior hull, tiny against the endless stretch of space, she guided herself carefully along the station framework while planets glowed distant beneath her.
I slowed instinctively. Earth was far-off. Hazy and dark.
“Captain?”
I blinked, and kept walking.
The command center doors slid open to reveal Commander Zhang already standing inside, one hand curledaround a steaming mug of coffee while pale holographic displays cast shifting light across her face.
“She’s not on,” she said before I could ask.
I exhaled through my nose.
“I assure you,” Zhang continued, not unkindly, “I will alert you when she is.”
“I wasn’t going to ask.”
“Then why aren’t you at your desk working? How much sleep have you gotten, Captain?”
