Page 111 of Star-Crossed Captive
Aker-klunkanswered, the noise so loud her eardrums ached. The sound of rushing liquid followed. The cylinder began to fill with scalding water. It rose over her feet. Panic squeezed her chest so tight, she could only take gasping breaths of chemical-filled air.
Tipping her face upwards, she shouted, “Help!” The water was already at her thighs. She couldn’t swim well, having only a couple lessons at a lunar resort when she was a child.
The water at her shoulders, she frantically splashed, trying to stay above the rising tide. Her feet lifted off the metal grating, and she kicked, her injured ankle spiking in pain. She sank below the waterline and got a mouthful of the foul liquid. It dripped down her face as she surfaced again. Her eyes burned. The opening of the cylinder rushed toward her. The water pushed her up and out, but it didn’t stop rising.
Now she was in a bigger vat of liquid. Eddies pulled at her, trying to drag her lower. She kept kicking, her ankle sore and tired. The engine core loomed above.
Then, like someone had turned off a tap, the water began to drain. Heart beating like she was plugged into a stimulant, Nia thrashed. She wouldn’t get stuck in one of those cylinders again. Her feet hit something solid. Her fingers connected with metal. She gripped it tight. The water kept draining, gurgling, then quieted until the only sound was the hum of the engine core above her.
Caught on the metal between two of the cylindrical drains, Nia rolled and exhaled a relieved breath. She had to move, couldn’t stay here, but exhaustion kept her in place. Water dripped from her body, tinkling as it hit metal. Steam rose around her.
The thought of the water rising again made her clamber to her knees. Her ankle screamed when she stood, and she almost fell inside the tube.
Carefully, she shuffled between the cylinders to the edge of the chamber. Her heart sank. How was she supposed to get out of here? The bulkhead was solid, smooth metal, the first railing a dozen meters above her.
Before she had time to think of other options, anotherker-klunkechoed. Water sloshed below, and in no time at all, it rose to her ankles. Swallowing her panic, Nia stayed close to the bulkhead. There had to be a way out of this thing.
Far above her head, grooves were etched into the metal, then above that, the first railing. When the water reached her shoulders, she kicked, keeping close to the bulkhead and her eyes on the indentations. She floated upward, but not far enough before the water began to recede.
Terrified she’d be stuck forever, she pushed against the bulkhead with her good foot. Her fingers caught the edge of the groove. She held on tight, but as the water lowered, her body became heavy. If she fell, she’d probably break her neck.
By the time the water had receded past her body, her fingers ached with the effort to remain where she was. One slip and she’d fall. When the gurgling stopped, she knew the water had finished draining.
The worst idea I’ve ever had. She wouldn’t be able to stay here long.
Then, weightlessness overtook her body. For a second, she thought it was because she’d slipped. But in the next moment, she lifted like a gentle hand was carrying her upward. The droplets around her rose in bubbles.
Artificial gravity is suspended. Was thePhalanxtraveling at maximum speed? If it was, she didn’t know how much time she’d have before gravity would return to non-essential areas.
Using the grooves in the bulkhead, she pulled herself upward as fast as possible. The first railing within reach, she pushed herself over, then used the overhead to guide herself to the nearest corridor. Righting herself, she tried to remain close to the deck.
When gravity returned, it felt like she’d gained a thousand kilograms. The deck rushed to meet her good foot, and she tumbled the rest of the way, landing on her knees, then hands. Behind her, the water returned to its cylinders in a thunderingsplash.
Wincing, Nia stumbled to her feet, and limped her way to the closest lift, tension in her spine at the thought of the agent resurfacing. Her shoes squished and sloshed with each jerky step. She needed a med kit to heal her ankle.
The lift door opened.Find Mace.But he wouldn’t be on this ship anymore. He’d said they were taking backOrion. She had to find someone in command to tell them about the agent.
She pressed the control for deck one. A message appeared on the screen: Access Denied. Snarling, she tried deck two, but the same thing happened. It didn’t allow her to go anywhere above deck five.
“This is why Tellusians need voice activated systems!” she screamed at the overhead.
She would have been able to tell the computer it was an emergency and to contact the necessary personnel.
Fine.She pressed the control for deck six, and the lift finally moved. When it stopped, the door slid open. Someone wearing blue ran past the lift like the ship was on fire. Nia stepped onto the deck.
Boom.The sound was so loud it felt like it came from inside her head. Yellow emergency lights pulsed along the corridor. There weren’t a lot of people on this deck, but the ones she could see were rushing here and there.
The ship rocked with another blast, and Nia braced her hand on the bulkhead. What was happening outside?
“Excuse me,” she said to a passing technical officer, but was immediately ignored as the woman continued on her way.
“Can you—?” Nia stopped speaking when the next person did the same thing.
Frustration choked her. She couldn’t go above this deck on her own, and everyone was too busy to help.
Nia hobbled along until the door on her right opened. For the first time since she’d lost her palette, she recognized where she was. It was the hangar where she and Mace arrived. And there sat the Condor they’d flown in.
Wet and shivering, Nia limped her way toward it, not seeing any other options on how to get off this ship.
