Page 12 of 20% Blood 80%
“Has D’alton finished in the infirmary? Does he need help moving to level nine?” I asked C.
If I hadn’t been so antisocial on the day ofsporemageddon, I would’ve been celebrating with most of Thermal Station C’s employees, eating cake. Instead of commemorating fifty years of research and watching the biodome’s plantbot’s presentation on the virtues of volcanic agriculture, I’d been replacing the air recycler in the engine room—again.
Was I grateful to be alive? Sometimes. Would life have been a hell of a lot easier if the biodome’s plantbot hadn’t met its demise with everyone else in this death trap? Hell yeah.
“D’alton of Clan Lasting is asleep in his new pod.”
Well, isn’t that something?A mixture of pride in him and disappointment in myself carried me back to my pod. Why hadn’t I made it easier for him? Stripping down to my mesh-tec briefs, I wadded my coveralls up into a ball and promised myself I’d wash something tomorrow. Maybe I could wash D’alton’sclothes too.
I dumped what remained of the bucket of water over my head and sloshed some sani-foam under my pits. After toweling off with a mostly clean towel, I stuffed myself into the shallow hollow on my thin mattress.
My mind wandered as I played an old vampire movie in the background. The engineer who’d been here before me had had strange and limited tastes.
D’alton had looked like death warmed over when I’d left him hanging. But I guessed he’d figured it out. A smart guy would be a pretty damn handy asset to keep this broken-down heap operational.
I stuffed a pillow over my ears, but it did nothing to muffle C’s sing-song voice. “Sterling Peoples, it is one sun.” It had taken me a while to adjust to Tern’s days, but separating daylight hours by suns and moonlit hours by moons made total sense now. Though, it didn’t make getting up at the ass crack of dawn any easier.
My gaze shifted to the external camera above my bed, and I switched it on with my wristport. Pink sand gusted across the landscape as it panned up from the ground to expose the twisted remains of the top five levels of the research station. Diamond crystals wrapped around the ruined building’s framework, and my sleep-muddled mind likened the morning’s frost to a wedding venue for the undead.
No more vampire movies before bed.
“…recalibration. Then the refrigerator coil—”
Mashing the heels of my palms into my eyes, I groaned. “Hang on, C, would ya? Give a guy a second to wake the fuck up.”
“Certainly, Sterling. Did you literally mean a second, or is this one of the times you’re being figurative?”
Jesus Christ, it was too early for this. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready.” Yesterday’s coveralls had weird watermelon-like slime halfway up the calf, and I cringed as I slid them on. I gathered everything off my floor, swearing when I knocked over my half-full smoothie, then stuffed all my laundry into a mesh bag. Reeking of kale, I hurried toward level nine.
My stomach rumbled in the hovertube. God, what would I do for something that wasn’t green? Something I could sink my teeth into.
The platform locked into place and the hovertube’s doors slid open, blasting me with hot air. D’alton couldn’t stay here. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I knocked on a few doors and yelled out his name, pausing when I found a communal gathering space.
“C? What room is D’alton in?” Glossy white cabinets lined the curve of one wall, and I hustled to investigate. Maybe they’d have a stash of ration bars. At the third cupboard, I pumped my fist into the air. “Yes! Motherfucking payload.”
For months I’d been imagining the moment something salty, sweet and over-processed would meet my tongue, and this did not disappoint. Saliva pooled in my mouth as the fake beefy goodness melted on my tastebuds. Sign me up for anything I didn’t have to grow for myself that came wrapped in plastic.
“D’alton is occupying pod 09-09, Sterling Peoples. Would you like this rotation’s urgent tasks now?”
Not unless they were ‘stuff my face’ followed by ‘check on D’alton’ and finished with ‘wash my clothes before they start looking like the fungus in the Lornian biodome.’ “Just emergencies. Thanks, C.” Sometimes I was nice to her.
A trolley with a neat stack of bins stood abandoned in one corner, and I popped the tab to unseal the top one. Air whistled out, adding the scent of spicy meat to the sweltering humidity. Rows of foil envelopes, the same as the ones I’d just stumbled upon in the cupboard, filled the bin. I smiled and ripped another package open with my teeth, chewing the hearty mantu strips.
Not bothering to check what treasures lay hidden in the other three bins, I wheeled the trolley toward D’alton’s room. I owed him. With those teeth, I didn’t think smoothies would top his list.
“D’alton.” I banged on his door. “You in there?” Of course he’d be in there. No sane person was awake at one sun. Though that didn’t mean much when the sun never showed itself through the perpetual windstorm. Or when you lived thirty-one levels below ground. Windows weren’t exactly a hot commodity in Thermal Station C.
The jerky stuck in my throat in a hard lump as a minute, then two, went by. “I’m coming in. Cover up them jewels.”
I tested the door’s seal, and it slid open unlocked when I palmed it. Seemed he was the trusting sort. Then, I kicked myself for my negligence, and rushed to his side.
His brow was hot and sweat-slicked under my palm. With his knees curled into his stomach, he looked much smaller. I ran my gaze down his shirtless torso, landing on his sockless feet.
He hadn’t showered. Revive gel that should have been peeled off long ago lay in shriveling sheets along his thigh, and a bandage meant to be wrapping his ribs dragged on the ground below the bed like a shedding mummy. And despite the sweltering heat, his body trembled.
“C, why didn’t you tell me D’alton needed help?” I growled.
“Sterling Peoples, you did not have D’alton’s palm scanned as I requested, therefore I cannot monitor his health.”
