Aurora's End (The Aurora Cycle #3)(51)

“WARNING: CONTAINMENT BREACH CRITICAL. EVACUATE DECKS 2 THROUGH 10 IMMEDIATELY. REPEAT: CONTAINMENT BREACH CRITICAL.”

Lieutenant Kim and I are staring at each other, the same disbelief in our eyes. Fin and Zila begin trawling through the data, reading as fast as they can. The glow in the medallion is fading now, the after-impression burned in white on the inside of my eyes.

“WARNING: CONTAINMENT BREACH UNDER WAY, ENGAGE EMERGENCY MEASURES DECK 11.”

The station shakes again. Harder this time.

The door to the office slides open and half a dozen laser sights light up the flickering gloom.

“FREEZE!”

Fin sighs. “Oh, for the love of …”

“REPEAT: CONTAINMENT BREACH UNDER WAY, ENGAGE EMERGENCY MEASURES DECK 11.”

I raise my hands for the SecBoys. “See you soon.”

BLAMBLAMBLAM.





16



ZILA





“Aw chakk, what got us?” Finian asks over comms.

“I thought for sure we were safe that time,” Scarlett agrees.

“A core breach,” I tell them, rising from my pilot’s seat. “The station reactor overloaded fifty-eight minutes after the quantum pulse struck it, destroying the entire structure. It seems the damage the station has sustained will ultimately prove critical, no matter what we do.”

“Why didn’t they order an evac?” Finian asks.

“The call to abandon the facility was only made three minutes before detonation. Given the amount of money the Terran government must have spent on this project, I believe what is left of station command was desperately trying to salvage the situation.”

“And we somehow slept through all that?” Scarlett asks.

“You looked very tired. I did not wish to wake you.”

We made the decision to devote our last loop to rest. The cumulative effect of the repeated resets, the adrenaline surges from near misses and the moments before our deaths, and the sheer ongoing effort of mental calculation has fatigued all of us—and of course, we were tired when we arrived here.

When Scarlett realized we had essentially been on the move for well over twenty-four hours, and none of us were resetting feeling refreshed, it was evident that sleep was indicated.

I volunteered to take the first watch, and we hunkered down with Nari—who has also completed over a day’s worth of loops—just inside our entry point by the waste ejection system. We were crowded, but we were safer there than drifting aboard our damaged ship. Until the station went quite dramatically to pieces around us, of course.

Now back in our shuttle once more, I meet Fin and Scarlett in the corridor en route to the loading bay.

“From the look on your face,” Scarlett says, “this isn’t good.”

“I am not certain,” I reply. “But if the three fragments of crystal—yours, Dr. Pinkerton’s, and the main probe—are the cause of the loop, and our way home, and all three were just destroyed in a large-scale explosion …”

“Then this loop always ends,” Finian frowns. “No matter what we do.”

I nod. “Fifty-eight minutes after the quantum pulse.”

“Chakk,” Fin sighs. “That means that even if we dodge all the ways there are to die in that place, we’ve only got an hour and three quarters each loop, give or take. That’s a lot less than I’d like.”

“I am uneasy,” I admit.

“And unrested,” Scarlett points out. “Did you sleep at all?”

“I shall do so during a future loop,” I reply. “I had an opportunity to think while I kept watch. Let us return to Dr. Pinkerton’s office.”

“Nobody step on a cactus this time,” Fin adds.

? ? ? ? ?

We reach our destination more quickly each time now, but I am growing concerned we are still not fast enough. Earlier, I thought us efficient in our efforts. Now I am aware that a considerable portion of our limited time is being spent each loop just to access Pinkerton’s office.

But we must know more.

Nari and I work in perfect concert as we retrieve Dr. Pinkerton’s passkey from his corpse, and once we are within his quarters, I am able to navigate through a now-familiar set of menus promptly. We no longer waste time in surprise at the crystal fragment that is a twin to Scarlett’s, or the sheer improbability of our predicament.

Finian and Scarlett are buying more time—distracting the patrol that otherwise arrives at Pinkerton’s quarters, shooting us and ending our loop.

The station shakes around us.

“WARNING: CONTAINMENT BREACH ESCALATION UNDER WAY, ENGAGE EMERGENCY MEASURES DECK 9.”

Nari stands watch as I gather data about the disastrous tests that were running at the moment the loop initiated. I have learned during our recent escapades that she is more talkative than I had anticipated.

I do not find it distracting. Rather, it is calming. My eyes are gritty and I know fatigue is slowing my thoughts. I anchor myself to her voice.

“So,” she muses. “You’re friends with aliens, huh?”

I do not look up, speaking softly. “Technically, everyone is an alien to somebody.”

“You know lots more races than the Betraskans?”

“Many,” I confirm. My mind goes to Kal, so far away in space and time. And then to Auri, leaning over Magellan as she tried to catch up on two centuries of history, to learn about the aliens that so fascinate Nari.