Runner ch4 pt II

    How fascinating is this? No lap of the treadmill or cycle of a bike goes unwasted. All the equipment in the gym, when used, generates electricity for the ship. Not enough to say, power the ship in case of engine failure, but enough to keep life support functional, and everyone is encouraged to spend at least an hour each day using the equipment.
    Not that Erras and I spent much time in there as our walks consisted more of walking through the halls and not being confined to the small gym.
    With full permission the rest of my known life slipped into this comfortable routine: wake up, eat, work with Dr. Whitten, go on a walk with Erras, then to bed. I kind of enjoyed it.
    Most nights, after a good six-hour sleep I’d awaken bored out of my brain and then go bug Erras for a few hours.
    One night, I shouldn't have, but then again I think that every time I make my escape to my bunk, yet this time I’m glad I went and bothered Erras.
    I tapped on his door and it opened.
    He sat on his bed reading in the dark. He set the tablet down with a smile.
    I stepped out of my loafers and sat next to him. “What’s in the news today?”
    “Much of the same.” He put his arm around me.
    Oh God, was that a flutter of a heart beat? Was that giddiness flooding my insides? All those feelings I’ve avoided for how many years and now they washed over me in a nasty, sticky mess.
    But I liked being near him, I liked hearing him talk, and I liked the way he smelled faintly of oranges.
    None of this should matter though as I'm sure I'll get bored of him like I've done for everyone else anyway. And if Hepae was right, once we reach the Lauriat in seven long days-
    The days are long anywhere-
    We will go our separate ways and if that’s the case then I should just enjoy this for now and not worry about anything that happens a week from now.
    “Another planet is up for annexation, the house is split on its decision. An attempted assassination on a world president far away. Floods of people leaving one planet for another. The dedication of another colony.”
    I traced miniature circles on his thigh. I never liked sitting this uncomfortably with an arm between the wall and my back but moving would mean stopping that, and stopping his hand from also making little circles on my arm as he talked.
    He squeezed my shoulders in, pressing my face into that soft hollow under his collarbone. “Thank you for being there,” he said softly.
    I hummed a response and draped my arm across his middle. He smelled so warm and alive.
    “No, really. I don’t know what I would have done.”
    “Well I-“
    KA-BaNG!!
    The teeth-clacking explosion knocked the words away, flickered the clock and accent lights in corners, and red flashers lit the room in a lurid strobe.
The explosion also damaged the gravity enough to throw me on the edge of vertigo. I could see that edge where it would only take one more step before I’m rolling and moaning useless on the floor.
    A voice over the P.A. said, “All hands battle stations. Code alpha.”
    Erras jumped up and flung his uniform on, I slipped into my shoes, and out the door we went, my wrist in his hand as we, of many, ran wild eyed to wherever our destinations sent us.
    I hadn’t been to this part of the ship, down several levels and into an area that smelled of grease and new plastics.
    Four consoles, like more advanced and streamlined VR game stations stood facing black walls. The two occupied stations flashed with activity on the wall, console, and the gloves and helmet of the users.
    It was a gunner’s turret. Sort of.
    “Put this on.” Erras handed me an orange and silver, I'm assuming space suit, and followed what he did to put it on.
    The suit had weight to it but not any worse than the army’s bulky chemical suits that smelled faintly of fish and turned everything black. Not to mention how miserably hot it became after only a few minutes of wear.
    I suppose compared to the chemical suits I would rather be in this one.
    “This button-” he pointed to a switch under the chin of the helmet, “will transfer air intake from atmosphere to tank. The tank holds three hours.”
    I nodded but he didn’t see it as he busied himself with taking control of a console. Stepping into the circle he pulled straps over his shoulders, flipped switches, pulled on a  solid visor over his helmet, and thin gloves.
    The black screen showed nothing more than a single green blob.
    Erras swore and yelled across the room, “What’s gong on?”
    “I don’t know.”
    Erras’ hands flew over the floating characters before him and Delus’ face appeared.
    “What do you know?” Erras asked.
    Delus chuckled. “You still remember how to operate the Patsum?”
    Erras hummed a response.
    Delus dropped the smile and said, “Glekis defectors. Pulled up about two hours ago demanding the ship.”
    “Say what?” someone said behind me, Yuer, a very skinny, and I mean skinny, even long nose on a skinny face, sojourner with black curly hair and very tanned skin said, looking over my shoulder. I had only talked with him once before and he seemed nice enough.
Yuer hooked himself into his machine and asked, his face appearing below Delus on Erras’ screen, “Why aren’t we firing?”
    “They cast an anchor in,” Delus said.
    Erras sneered. “This is why we should always shoot first.”
    “I’m with you, brother.” Delus’ eyes flitted everywhere. “Once the nerds get around the firewall, fire at will.”
    But nothing happened except more clanging and banging.
    Delus swore with a strangled scream and his screen blacked out.
    Then Erras swore, disentangled himself from the console, grabbed my wrist, and off we ran the way we came.
    “They’re prepping to board,” he said huffing as we climbed an access tube.
The heavy boots made us loud and uncoordinated as it did for everyone else running madly about.
    We hit his room first and he crammed stuff in his pockets, mostly snacks, grabbed a pistol, and hooked electronics into power cords, but didn’t bring a single one.
    “If we get overtaken,” he said at my look and pushed me out the door, “all electronics are purged.”
    At my room he said, “Get your gun.”
    I surprised him by just reaching toward the back of my bed and grabbing my go-bag, all contents of which had been swiped and hoarded since I arrived on board, not so much for emergencies, but to make any future moves easier.
    The ship shifted. Or was it listed? That would make more sense. The ship listed and knocked us into a wall.
    The P.A. announced: “All hands prepare to defend. Kill on sight.”
    I really ought to panic right about now because this just plain sounds terrible.
    My ears plugged. The air pressure changed, lightened, then returned to normal as the systems compensated.
    Then we ran, like two cripples lumping and thumping through the halls.
    Up another floor the air sizzled and crackled with laser shots zipping about accompanied by screaming, grunting, and shouting in dozens of languages that made my chip buzz and gave me a pinching pain above my ears.
    Pressed up against a wall, Erras peered around the corner. Two guards whose names I didn’t know on the other side of the hall did the same.
    Erras took a deep breath and turned down the hall.
    The rest followed, the guards easily overtaking and passing Erras only to stop at the next corner.
    Much louder screaming came from out of sight and black scorch lines marred the walls around us.
    The guards looked around the corner, fired, then disappeared down that hall.
    Checking the charge in his magazine, Erras said, “Our weapons are intentionally non-lethal.” He peered around the corner but instead of firing he gave me a fierce look and pulled our heads together, the helmets’ chin the only thing stopping our teeth from splitting lips. His eyes flitted between mine and he said, “Shoot them in the head.” Then he turned down the hall, weapon up, and firing.
    Well dang, just when life got interesting I’m off to die again.