CLICK-CLANG.
It fell onto its side and rolled toward the door. The outer shell warbled and expanded.
“Nggg…” it’s feminine voice squealed. The shell casing liquefied and streaked across the floor, “Ugh, I hate this so much…”
The liquid twisted a few inches into the air and formed a cylindrical shape about the size of a beach ball.
A secondary ‘head’ inflated into a silvery metal. It shook its head and blinked its eyebulbs.
“Ah,” Neg bounced against the door, fully-formed, “That’s better.”
“Neg,” Oxade’s damp screams came from within the control deck, “Get us out of here.”
“I’m way ahead of you,” she said and pressed her curved ‘chest’ against the door.
SCHWIZZ-SCHPAANG!
A metal sphere formed around her frame and spun at speed, twisting the image of the door in front of her, “Poz, get ready.”
Poz hopped up and down from the other side of the door and looked through the window, “What? How did you get out there?”
“Just shut up and connect.”
Neg’s magnetic strength slipped through the door and pulled Poz toward it.
“Hey, what are you—”
“—Saving everyone’s life, you numb skull. Get over here, now.”
Oxade scooped his D-REZ from the floor and unclipped the magazine. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a fresh one as he watched Poz’s body lasso toward the door. His lower frame swept the detritus and mess out of his path.
“This is most embarrassing.”
“Just shut up and open the door, nitwit,” Oxade palmed the magazine into his gun and turned to Nutrene, “Hey, you.”
“What?”
“How’s the arm?”
Nutrene picked up her Rez-9 in her bad arm. She focused her monocle on the bleeding wound, “I’ll live.”
SCHWUNT!
Poz and Neg slammed together on opposite sides of the door. They blinked their eyebulbs at each other.
“Nice to see you again, sweetie,” Neg beamed.
“Yeah, whatever. Just help me open this stupid door.”
They slid down to the floor together and rolled across the door railings, pulling it open.
CREEEAAAAAKKK!
“Oxade,” Neg beeped, “The door is open, as per your request.
“Thanks, guys,” Oxade and Nutrene looked at each other through their masks.
“New plan,” he gesticulated with his D-REZ, barely able to contain his anger, “I’m going to put a bullet in Alex’s brain. And then Jaycee’s.”
“Good plan.”
“And then I’m going to make Anderson watch me remove Tripp’s head, turn it upside down and thump it down the neck hole.”
“Upside down? I like that,” Nutrene snarled, wanting revenge, but kept up the professional pretense, “Oh. As Opera Charlie’s medician, do you mind if I perform a live vivisection on that bitch of a cat?”
“Be my guest, but on one condition.”
“What’s that?” Nutrene licked her lips and walked toward the door.
“Make it as slow and painful as possible. I want to watch the life fade away from her eyes.”
“Get in line, sweetie.”
“Kill ‘em,” Oxade yelled and kicked the chair into the damaged communications console on his way out, “Kill ‘em all.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Manuel?” Tripp snapped his fingers as he reached the inner airlock door.
“Y-y-yessss,” The book flickered and spasmed in the air, never fully coming to life, “I c-can’t—”
“—Manuel, what’s wrong?”
“Oxade shot my m-mainframe. I’m d-dying—” Manuel buzzed in and out of the air.
Tripp realized there and then that Manuel was dying in front of his and Jaycee’s eyes.
“You’re l-leaving Op-p-p-pera B-Beta—”
“—No, no, damn it,” Tripp went to grab Manuel. He forgot that the book couldn’t be touched, “We can take you with us. Install you on their comms panels.”
“N-No. I’m obsolete. It’ll never work,” Manuel’s voiced ground to super-slow motion, “It’s over, Tripp.”
White sparks zipped away from the book as it took its final curtain call, “I managed it, though, d-didn’t I? I l-lied for you.”
Tripp half-smiled and held his thumb up to the transparent book, “You did. You bought us time.”
“Goodbye, T-Tripp. Jaycee,” Manuel’s last words screeched to a halt. His image flapped away like a dove toward the ceiling and burst into several thousand digital atoms, never to be seen again.
Jaycee thumped the wall in anger, “Bastards.”
“No time to mourn, now. We gotta get off Beta. Open the airlock.”
“With pleasure,” Jaycee yanked on the lever. The inner airlock door slid up into the ceiling.
“Wait, what about Jelly?” Tripp asked. “Where is she?”
“I dunno—”
SCHTOMP-SCHTOMP-SCHTOMP…
The two men turned to a colossal thumping noise coming from the other end of the walkway.
Jelly Anderson stormed toward them. They flinched with each step she took.
“There you are,” Tripp said.
“Where’s my mommy?” Jelly looked around, expecting to find Wool with them.
“No time for questions, pet,” Tripp stood aside and allowed her in the airlock.
“I’m not going anywhere without my mommy.”
Tripp looked over her shoulder, “Jelly, listen. Your mommy didn’t make—”
He cut his sentence short when he clamped eyes on the wet patch between her legs. A dusty Kevlar panel hung by her knee. The fabric of the leggings were torn apart, “Jelly, did you embarrass yourself again?”
She looked down at her thighs and whined, “Miew.”
“Where did that liquid come from?”
“Uh, guys?” Jaycee waved Jelly and Tripp in from the airlock compression chamber.
Jelly reached into the chest compartment at the front of her exo-suit, “Let’s get out of here—”
“Oh my God,” Tripp gasped.
A tiny, goo-drenched kitten lay shivering on her palm. It meowed with its eyes shut, clinging to Jelly’s infinity claws.
Stunned, Tripp and Jaycee looked at Jelly for a reaction.
“My baby,” Jelly held the kitten for both men to see, “We have to protect her.”
“But-but,” Tripp swallowed and went to touch the newborn kitten. His sleeves rolled up the length of his arm, revealing the holes on his wrist.
“This is Alex. Do you read me?”
Tripp moved his wrist to his mouth, “Yes, Alex. We’re at the Primary Airlock, now. We, uh, found something.”
“What?” Alex’s voice came from Tripp’s IndividiMedia ink.
“Get down here, quick. We’re going to need your help.”
“I’m on my way.”
Jelly cradled the kitten in her arms. The light from the fireball rocketing towards Saturn illuminated its gorgeous, fluffy face.
“It’s a she?”
Jelly nodded and purred, “Yes.”
Jaycee joined Tripp and tried not to let his emotions override the severity of their situation.
“Jelly, listen. We don’t have any outer-suits. We need to cross the bridge to Charlie as quick as we can.”
“But we can’t breathe in space?” Jelly asked.
“No,” Jaycee pointed to the bridge through the window, “You have to exhale. Push all the air out of your lungs and hold until we get there.”
Tripp took Jelly’s newborn in his hands. The gunk slopped between his fingers, “What are you going to call her?”
“—Tripp, man,” Jaycee screamed, “Not now. We need to leave.”