In my defense, when the aliens have the size and consistency of ketchup packets, it’s very easy to forget one in a flight suit pocket.
You know, that little bicep pocket where you stash the neural-connection ear buds?
On top of that, we’d been celebrating Zenibrian New Year—which is a pretty big deal…
Snowflakes swarm the shuttle I’m flying to my first assignment. Scientific Outpost Six—wonder if those SOS initials are a coincidence? If so, they’re appropriate now. I shiver as I struggle with the controls. It’s winter on this world and though I’m dressed accordingly, this much-used craft has a broken heater. I grimace.
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Time has no meaning out here, but according to our shipboard computer, it is two minutes before noon. In a few seconds, my co-pilot and I will be the first humans to travel through a wormhole—a black hole, which is kept from collapsing by the greatest feat of engineering the universe has yet witnessed.
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“I’ve got a good feeling about you, Planet 77.”
My heart thundered with the anticipation of facing the water-hungry nightmare that had buried our planet. Our ship slowed as we breached the skies of Earth.
“Don’t forget the cloaking device.” Jones reached over my shoulder and flipped a toggle. “I’d rather not be deified this time.”
“I got nothing.”
My grin was snarky because I meant that both ways: what you say when you have absolutely nothing to add to a conversation. And literally. Because I had no re-memory.
My Eternal Counselor, Mirah, looked distressed. “Please, Ms. Iandolo…”
“Ronni,” I corrected. “Since we’ll be here a while, might as well be
“Your testimony is unfinished, Ensign Duffy. Sit.”
Duffy’s knees, already wobbly from stress, buckled, dumping him back down in the witness chair. He faced the unblinking Commodore Brice and her investigative panel.
This isn’t a trial. They promised me I wouldn’t be on trial. Which was true. Besides, I haven’t done anything wrong.
“Approaching coordinate J-14. Instability detected. Awaiting your instruction, Clawson.”
Safe in the Pangaea lander, Commander Rex Clawson monitored ANNIE’s progress across the desolate rocky landscape of planetoid Decimus. The drone feed indicated ANNIE stood at the precipice of a yawning gorge. Coordinate J-14 lay 9.5 meters ahead horizontally but 135.6 meters straight down.
“We’ll be late, Harold!” Beatrice scolded as Harold zipped toward the nearby star. “I told you we needed to leave early!”
“We would’ve been fine if it weren’t for that construction on the Tarangian Way!” Harold snapped back, purple facial tentacles writhing angrily. “Who reduces an intergalactic byway to one lane? Traffic was stopped completely!”
July 4th, 2050
I didn’t think my husband and I would qualify for the program. Things don’t usually go our way, especially since Gavin’s release from active duty and the months of trauma that followed. He sits next to me, his fingers playing with his ID badge. The word ARMY is emblazoned across it.
Helios gripped his resume. After an hour of waiting, the paper was somewhere between crumpled and wilting.
He attempted to smooth it out on his lap. It didn’t help. Maybe the Boss wouldn’t notice…
He glanced over the details listed under Education and Activities. Graduated from Celestial Gasses Academy—middle of the class.
“Oh no! Oh no! Nixie, what have I done?” Jope yanked his hands away from the control panel. Lights blinked along the dash, but he pressed fists to his eyes and leaned his weight against the harness. He couldn’t bear to look at the teleportation platform across the cabin. It was ominously, horribly silent.
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The tracking device sizzles and melts as my cybernetic eye’s laser bores into it. After a moment, it’s nothing more than fried wires and chalk-like powder. Destroying it is probably too little too late in deterring whoever must be following us, but I certainly won’t make their job easier.
The tracker is
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