Michael Siemsen: Exigency

A synth voice announced through the PA: “This is not a drill. This is not a drill. Exigency procedures. Exigency procedures. This is not a drill…”

Minnie hurriedly dressed as she activated her fone to call Aether.

ALERTS: Wireless unavailable.

Crap! Crap! Crap! It’s real!

She leapt to the window shade and pulled it open. Bits of debris, small and large, streamed by. Planet Epsy streaked by the window at an arcing diagonal. Something had exploded or impacted the sta—

The supply pod!

Minnie accessed her fone’s settings and requested a direct connection to Aether. She accepted a few seconds later and an undelivered M from one minute earlier popped up.

AETHER: Minnie, we are in full exigency. Go to Wheel A and your assigned EV. I’ll see you on the surface. I love you.

MINNIE: What happened?!

AETHER: Supply pod impact, hull breach, fire’s out but envr + cooling are inop. We have 8 mins.

MINNIE: Backups? BH?

AETHER: Minerva, go to your EV NOW.

Minnie’s mind raced. What if it was something she could fix? What about the Backup Habitat? Why were they jumping straight to Evacuation Vehicles? Surface evac was last on the list of exigency measures. Aether didn’t want to hear any of it, but she was as susceptible as anyone to groupthink. Someone probably said “We have no other options!” and everyone listened. It was surely John, and no one would think to challenge him in an emergency. People listened for anyone with an authoritative tone, and complied without question.

Minnie slid open one of the emergency panels and grabbed a breather, pulling it over her head, and pressing it to seal.

Back to the hatch.

The mechanism override clicked into place and Minnie forced the door into the bulkhead. The tube was still pressurized. She climbed the ladder, her weight shifting right and then left as the station’s irregular rotation toyed with gravity. At the top of the tube, she peered out the window in the hatch to the long duct that led to the Backup Habitat. One entire side of its solar array had been disintegrated, and the escape duct had clearly been breached.

That doesn’t mean we can’t use it! Minnie yelled in her head. We only need suits!

She opened a new M to Aether.

MINNIE: BH intact. Escape duct breached but passable.

AETHER: 3 mins Minerva.

MINNIE: Why EVs?! This is not protocol!

AETHER: Listen in 10 seconds. Sound of EV containing Qin and ME.

Aether severed their fone link.

“No!”

Aether knew exactly how to force her compliance. Epsy’s surface was a permanent refuge. Once Aether’s EV launched, the only way Minnie would see her again would be to do the same: abandon ship in one of the pre-programmed EVs, all the way down to the rally point in Threck Country. And Minnie was the one responsible for first contact—the only one with a real handle on the language. Even Tom, her backup, had hardly bothered to learn the spoken language. If the duty fell to him, he’d have to fumble his way around the Livetrans app.

The ladder began to vibrate with a new frequency, followed by the loud clang of retracting anchors as inverted electromagnets blasted an EV from its bay. Aether was off. And despite the screaming in her head, Minnie knew she had no choice but to follow. She descended the ladder, fighting intense gravity shifts, until she dropped into the hygiene pod. Loose articles filled the zero-grav air, drifting around like a slomo insect swarm.

Minnie bounced from floor to ceiling to bulkhead, swatting away water droplets, razors and combs, washcloths, until she reached the tube to Wheel A. As she grabbed the first rung, another telling vibration began. She pulled herself into the tube and looked out the window.

Clang!

To her horror, she watched an escape vehicle launch not toward Epsy’s atmosphere, but straight out into the black of space.

She screamed “NO!” and her breather fogged.

Aether! No no no… Are they all ejecting wrong?

Clamoring through the tube to Wheel A, Minnie emerged just as EV4 began its launch.

Who’s assigned to 4? Ish and Tom?

Minnie floated across the common area. Chess pieces, a well-gnawed chewstick, and a paintbrush bounced off her visor as she approached the open hatch of EV6, and the person she very much wished to strangle. She was surprised he’d waited for her.

Clang! EV4 launched.

Minnie glanced back to the panoramic window at the far side of the common area. Another doomed launch. The EV’s silhouette in front of the Epsilon star shrank to a tiny, heartrending dot. The occupants would already realize the mistake. They’d know they were as good as dead.

Minnie felt something impact her chest. An instant later, her head flew backward as she was yanked forward into the EV. She slammed into the seat just as John came into view through her breather mask. He was already in his orange survival suit, fuming, shouts muffled behind his visor. Sensing her presence, Minnie’s suit activated, detaching from the seat around her and wrapping over her head, legs, and arms. Automated clutches stretched out and joined to each other at the seams.

John popped his visor open and shouted again. “Hands, feet, head!”

She remembered and leaned forward, spotting her boots still clamped in their charging docks. She kicked off her slips, pointed her toes, and shoved in both feet. Eager ankle clutches joined to the boots as she stuffed her hands into the awaiting gloves on her armrests. Overhead, she found her helmet, tugged it from its dock, and pulled it on, sealing it to the receiver at her neck, then synced her fone to the suit. System checks confirmed all seals as John turned to the hatch, slapped the ejection button, waited for the three-second safety count, then struck it again. He disappeared out of sight beside her. Restraints sprang out from the seat, binding her shoulders, waist, legs, and head.

He didn’t time it! We’re screwed!

Minnie regained her senses and struggled to turn toward John. The EV seats were positioned in a V, two passengers facing slightly away from each other. She could only see the edge of his arm.

The EV began to quake. Minnie pressed her head to the front of her helmet, grasped the grips beneath her hands, clenched her eyelids shut.

Clang!

Her body thrust forward from the launch, her restraints a little loose. g -force fighting against her, she pulled a hand to her chest, found the adjuster knob, and twisted it until her body pressed snug into the seat.

He didn’t override and launch manual. We could be drifting into open space!

Minnie opened her eyes, peered out the little porthole above her. Among the black of open space, she imagined a tiny white dot, a mislaunched EV, drifting away.

Aether…

She tried to calm herself, unmuddle her brain. The EV’s intercomms hadn’t automatically connected their suits.

Direct Connect!

She sent a DC request to John. He accepted a few seconds later. She had the M primed the second they linked.

MINNIE: Our trajectory is screwed. Other EVs launched into space.

JOHN: I know.

MINNIE: If you knew then why didn’t you launch manual?

JOHN: I know now. Not when I activated.

MINNIE: Well, we’re heading for entry, but no way we’re on course.

JOHN: The station just went up. It’s gone.

The EV rattled briefly from the destroyed station’s shockwave, then returned to unnerving stillness. Minnie closed her eyes, inhaled a breath, and held it. She needed to ask the question.