“Let’s hope Tech can help.”
He studied her profile in stray glances down, remembering the curve of her cheek, the delicate bridge of her freckled nose, and the flutter of her long, brown eyelashes. He wanted to ask her what troubled her, but he also didn’t want to pry.
Tech met him on the edge of camp, fidgeting with his gloves. “Is she all right?”
“I’m fine.” Gemme interrupted him as if all this attention embarrassed her. “It’s just my feet.”
“She didn’t have time to slip on her boots.” Brentwood explained, trying to justify her actions and alleviate some of her embarrassment. “Could you take a look?”
Tech nodded, uneasiness slipping into his features. “Sure, bring her into camp.”
Brentwood entered his tent and placed Gemme on his own thermal cocoon. Gemme pulled off her socks. Redness tinged her delicate toes. Brentwood looked on as Tech massaged her feet gently.
His heart skittered. “Will she be all right?”
Tech nodded. “She’s fine. When they turn black and blue you have to worry.”
“Good.” Gemme breathed in relief. “I can’t have you hauling me around for the rest of the mission like an invalid.”
“We’d do whatever’s necessary.” Brentwood interjected. “You’re an important member of this team.”
“You’ll have to stay off them for a while.” Tech advised, giving Gemme back her socks. “Let us pack up camp. You stay here and rest.”
A rip current of frustration came over Brentwood as he saw Gemme so helpless. “You’d think they could have spared at least one medic to go with us.”
Tech shook his head. “After the crash, my wife reported to the emergency bay to help, and I haven’t seen her since.”
Brentwood gave Tech a sympathetic smile. “You must miss her.”
Tech waved him off. “Nah, that old witch. It does us good to be apart. No offense, Ms. Reiner, but that matchmaking system must have short-circuited when it paired us together. Why do you think I drink so much?”
Trying to smooth over Tech’s remark, Brentwood changed the subject. “She must be working hard. You wouldn’t believe what the emergency bay looked like after the crash.”
Tech sighed. “Let’s hope there’s still enough of us left to have a colony.”
Gemme put her hand on Tech’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Tech. We’ll find a way. As the Matchmaker, I know how many people necessary to start a generation, and the
Expedition
had twice as many when it took off. We have more than enough people now.”
Brentwood’s miniscreen blinked with an incoming message. Work always got in the way in times like these. He gestured toward the tent opening. “Let’s allow Ms. Reiner some rest.”
“Sure thing, chief.” Tech bowed to Gemme, and then ducked away. Sunlight flashed in and out as the tent flap slapped in the breeze.
“Are you going to be okay in here?” Brentwood bent down beside her. She looked up at him with her thin lips slightly parted.
“I’ll be fine. Thanks for saving me.”
The sudden urge to kiss her overwhelmed him and he swallowed his passion, feeling vulnerable and stupid. He’d trained for his entire life for such a mission, and this was the time to prove himself. He couldn’t let a woman get in the way, no matter how beautiful, brave, and intelligent she was.
How would he ever be paired with anyone after this? To think she’d be the one to do it, to make him marry someone that wasn’t her. Brentwood couldn’t stand the thought of it. The very nature of her job stuck him in the ribs like an uncomfortable pain in his side.
“Not a problem.” Pulling away, he grabbed his miniscreen and ducked out before his emotions got the better of him. The brightness of the sunlit snow brought him back to reality, and he squinted, trying to adjust.
Luna slumped over a sample tray, using a syringe to apply chemicals to the gel and Tech loaded the heavy equipment in the landrover. Brentwood chose a spot where he could read the message in private. The familiar icon of the Seers flashed on the screen; a retina with the hull of the
Expedition
at its center.
Jeez, what do they want now? A status report?
He had nothing. A strange tentacled beast, snow, and more snow. What would he tell them?
Brentwood scrolled down to the message and pressed the Enter key.
Alternate mission objective.
Squinting from the glare of the sun, he read further.
Locate and retrieve a biological anomaly with the following specifications:
Collagen forty-five point three percent. Protein twenty-one point seven percent…
The list rambled on, describing no species Brentwood had ever learned about in his classes. He shook his head at all the gibberish. What did this have to do with his mission or their survival on the
Expedition
? He scrolled down.
Specimen location at 90 degrees north latitude.
Brentwood checked the coordinates of their first mission. The specimen rested less than a hundred meters from the mineral deposit. Intrigued, Brentwood scrolled down.
See attached picture of corresponding orb.
The strange, mystical ball in the Seers’ control chamber eyed him hauntingly from his own miniscreen. Even now, the cosmic swirls and starbursts chanted his name. A voice called to him. “
Miles, come home.”
He blinked and rubbed his eyes. Too much sun and not enough hydration. He must be hallucinating. He cracked open a water bottle and continued reading, wiping sweat from his brow despite the frigid temperatures.
Status of mission is priority one. Top secret. Inquire with Luna Legacy concerning the nature of the beacon: code Beta Prime. All other crew members must be kept ignorant.
Ignorant? How would he keep an alternate mission from the rest of his crew? Brentwood itched with frustration. Did Luna know about this mission all along? He slammed down his miniscreen and walked over to the blonde beauty as she packed up her trays.
“Hey there, Lieutenant. Come to check on me?”
Brentwood kept his voice at a whisper. “What do you know about the ‘orb’?”
“What orb?” She clicked down the lid of the tray and gave him a wink.
“Code Beta Prime. The Seers have me in the loop.”
“I see.” She stuck the trays into a supply container. “Let’s talk a walk, shall we?”
“Please.”
The way her arm linked around his reminded him of a climbing vine of ivy in the biodome. Her grip tightened around his forearm like she lured him into a trap. She pulled him toward the back of camp, where the wind howled around them, blowing tips of snowdrifts in tornados over their heads. He kicked the snow until he brought feeling back into his toes.
“The second generation of Lifers on the
Expedition
found the orb attached to the ship while navigating near the galaxy of a sun-like star called beta CVn in the constellation Canes Venatici. The device, partly metallic and partly biological life, attached tendrils to the ship. They think the magnetic pulse of the
Expedition
’s energy cores drew it in. Scientists and biologists studied it for years, mesmerized by the golden swirls, but only the Seers truly understood it, making connections none of us humans would understand.”
He realized he leaned in too close, his face only inches from her red lips. But he couldn’t pull away now. “Why didn’t you tell me about it?”
A stray wisp of blonde hair blew between them, tickling his forehead and she tucked it away behind her ear. “Why would I? It’s considered a dead case, an old wives’ tale. No one’s talked about for generations.”
Brentwood studied her eyes, cold as the water that almost swallowed Gemme. No deception lay in the depths, only confusion. If the Seers trusted her, than he had to lend her his trust as well. “The Seers just gave me a new mission. Apparently, this orb is picking up energy impulses from a beacon on this planet, a mere two hundred meters from the mineral deposit.”
Luna’s delicate blonde brow rose so high, wrinkles formed on her pristine forehead. “No way.”
“Yes. And they want us to find it. Just the two of us. No one else involved.”
She smiled like he asked her to be his second-in-command, or even his lifemate. Brentwood squashed the thought.
“I understand.” She pointed a finger into his chest and twisted it against his collarbone. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Brentwood didn’t like this pairing as much as he didn’t like the Seers, but he had no other choice. He longed to get back to camp and check on Gemme. Had she woken up? Did she wonder where he was?
Luna eyed him expectantly as if she guessed who his thoughts drifted to. Brentwood pulled his eyes away from the direction of camp. “That’s it for now. Pack your things. We’ve leaving in an hour.”
“Yes, sir.” Luna dislodged her arm. “Let me know when our next secret meeting is. I’ll be looking forward to it.”
The eagerness in her voice made him squirm with unease. He watched her like someone watching a ticking time bomb as she strode back to camp, her hips swaying with each step. What had he stumbled into? A secret alien project? Deception of his crew? A descendant of the Legacys breathing down his neck? Brentwood rubbed his face with his gloved hand, feeling like Tundra 37 lumbered way over his head.
Biggest mission of your life: Day 2.
Vira stared into the sorcerer’s deep violet eyes. Rizzy’s ripped poster hung across their room, a large gash running from his shoulder to his staff. She listened as her sister’s breathing changed from short bursts to the long intakes of deep sleep. The wires powering their family cell lurked behind those intense eyes, surging with stolen energy she’d directed all by herself.
Plopping out of her sleep pod, she squirmed her way across their bedroom floor. Rizzy’s day-old jumpsuit tangled in her legs, and she stopped to pull it off. She wiped her hand on the carpet, because who knew where Daryl’s germs touched, before pulling herself forward.
The chrome stood above her like a portal to another land, a place of impulses and charges, a place where she could travel without the means of her underdeveloped legs. She put a hot hand to the chrome, her fingers making mist on the perfect, silver surface. The wires coiled just where she’d left them that morning, and she reached out with her mind, channeling her energy to connect with the charges within.
It took only moments to redirect the stream. She heard the ventilators sputter out and peeked over her shoulder, making sure the absence of their hum didn’t wake Rizzy. Her sister’s pod registered deep sleep mode. She was safe from detection. Her mom would be angry in the morning when the air smelled stale, but maybe the Seers would have the energy redirected to their family room soon.
Vira pulled her hand away from the chrome and squiggled her way back, yearning for the warmth of her sleep pod. She stopped halfway, clinging to the carpet fibers. Could she find out what was wrong with the ship? What if she could help?
She scurried back to the chrome and placed her hand in the same spot. The metal still emanated heat underneath her skin. She connected to the ship, scanning status charts. Life support systems functioned at fifty-five percent, biodome humidity levels were normal, and growth rates were slow but steady. The energy capacitors were low.
Another presence gripped her like someone wrapping their fingers around her neck. Vira stiffened at the mental touch and gasped, holding her breath. She felt exposed, as if she lay naked on the congregation floor for everyone to gawk. But this scrutiny was far worse. Her every thought lay on display: her anger with Rizzy for sneaking out late at night, her love for peanuts, her overprotective streak for her mother. Everything.
The presence analyzed her like a specimen in a jar, probing every fold of her brain, poking in every weak spot in her heart.
Please. Let me go.
This presence had no compassion, no sympathy. It moved as if desperate, searching for answers Vira didn’t have. Clawing at her weaknesses, it spread throughout her body like a disease. One thought consumed it above all else: a pulsing orb Vira had never seen.
Like a mini universe, the globe swirled with activity, alive. It smelled of roses, ocean surf, horsehides, and other impossible things that only existed back on Old Earth. Vira wanted to plunge into its golden depths and explore, but the orb’s capabilities could not exceed the circumference of its curving world. Just as the orb disappointed her, it hinted at a much larger object very near. She wanted to find the larger object, but the impulses were too faint to track down. As much as the orb and the object it hinted at confused her, Vira embraced it and the presence weakened, loosening its hold.
That’s it, think of the orb.
She filled her mind with it, following the cosmic patterns as tiny galaxies came and went and stars died in supernova, only to be reborn in the crux of a black hole. None of it made sense, but holding onto those ephemeral images allowed the presence solace enough to release her.
Vira snapped her hand away from the wall and fell, panting, onto the floor. She squeaked as feeling jolted through her numb fingers in a thousand prickly pins.
The lid of Rizzy’s sleep pod rose and her sister’s head poked out like a turtle in a shell. She rubbed her eyes and focused on Vira huddling on the floor of their room. Vira gasped, wishing she could become invisible. What would Rizzy think if she knew she spied on the ship? If she found out about her freakish powers?
Rizzy’s face screwed up, sour as a rotten tomato. “Are you trying to rip my poster down again?”
“No.” Her voice came out weak from relief.
“Yeah, right. I could call Mom and Dad right here on the intercom and then they’d catch you red-handed. I know you tore it down in the first place. I know it!”
Vira cringed, hiding her face in the carpet. It reeked like Rizzy’s old socks.
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, right you are. I know you hate it.”
“He’s creepy.”
“He has magical powers. You wouldn’t get it.”
Vira bit her lip. She got it all right, more than she wanted to.