Imminent Destruction

The chill that had been developing for some time suddenly turned to a freeze as the air thinned. The lights went out completely, leaving the hall pitch black. The sudden heat loss caused the walls to groan. The women shivered and hyperventilated. The hall was like an infected appendage of a gangrenous body. Karen leaned defiantly against the wall while tapping her nails against the hatch. Destiny curled into a ball, allowing herself to float.

“I’m really scared.”

“It wouldn’t be realistic not to be,” Karen said.

“Is everyone else dead? Did they just abandon us? Do you think we’ll survive?”

“Do I have ‘Psychic’ written on my forehead?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. Well, since there seems to be little hope we’ll get out of here alive. I might as well ask your name. Again. I wasn’t listening the first couple times.”

“Destiny Payson. My mom gave me the first name. My parents agreed that she pick it since she had no say over the second. That is, unless they were going to have a boy because my father wanted a boy named after him. My parents didn’t believe in choosing pre-arranged physical attributes. I was born the way God wanted me.”

“I asked your name, not your life story. And are you seriously saying I was born against God’s will? You sound like a Spirit Guild acolyte.”

Destiny shrunk back a little, placing a hand over her cheek.

“I’m sorry. Were you a pre-arranged child?”

“All my father’s children were girls. Neither of my parents were fond of boys, and I’m perfectly happy with their decisions. There are lots of things I can do better than anyone else because I have perfected genetics.”

“What about Neiderheim’s principle?”

“The theory that perfecting person in one area leads to the detriment of another. It doesn’t always apply. My parents weren’t trying to perfect me, they were trying to condition the type of child they wanted based on three attributes, beauty, intelligence, and resourcefulness. Nothing was overemphasized. My family has been doing this for years. If done properly, there are no risks.”

“I don’t think you’re that much different from me.”

“Maybe you were a designer baby and don’t even know it. I doubt it though. Some natural births get lucky, and yet you’re still nowhere near as capable as I.

“I’m more adaptable. And I’m probably better at math.”

“You may be right. I was conditioned for literature and the arts.”

“I’m sorry,” Destiny said, “I didn’t mean to offend you. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. I have friends who were engineered to have perfect teeth, or to be a certain gender, or to have a certain hair or eye color. I also know a lot of people who were born without conditioning. It’s all up to the parent where I’m from.”

“You would know a lot of those people. You grew up on Hakkut, after all.”

“There you go again being condescending. And the anti-modification era of my planet ended generations ago, oh all-powerful conditioned one.”

To their surprise, the hatch opened. Powder combined with the renewed glow of the emergency lights gave the mess hall an eerie purple fog in which Bert stood before them triumphantly. He was covered with blue powder; it swam from his hair, coated his skin, danced on the back of his hands, and lounged over his uniform; only his eyes were visible. He held a stained electronic pulse device, its cord still plugged into the door panel. Destiny grabbed his leg and pulled herself out so forcefully that Bert had to clutch the door supports. Karen guided herself in a gentler manner.

“Thank you,” Destiny said, “I thought we were going to die in there.”

Bert helped them up, and led them to the kitchen, which was clear of the powder. Once inside, they left footprints in their path, and hand prints on everything they touched. Karen pressed her palms against the sink, leaving blue prints on the lining. She twisted the hot water nozzle, nothing happened, not a drop came from the faucet. She slunk to the floor, leaving a trail of blue from her back.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, “I demand an explanation.”

Bert tightened the hot water nozzle, he didn’t want to risk the possibility it would function and spread droplets of burning water throughout the room. He coughed so loudly it resonated throughout the kitchen. “I demand splanations for your makin’ me slog through this poison to get to ya.”

“Poison!” both girls exclaimed in unison.

“Nah, I’m just messin’ with ya. That powder is harmless as CO2, just itch the lungs a bit, no worse than a bad cigarette. Water recycling system gone, we’re lucky to have emergency air supplies left, and that’s only because we have such a small crew.”

Karen pulled a cosmetic mirror from her purse. The sight of powder over her skin and throughout her hair made her nauseous enough to moan.

“How much longer do I have to go along looking like a blue snow cone.”

“You can rub it off,” Bert said, brushing some off his shoulder.

Destiny brushed off her face and hair until it was only highlighted by the powder, Karen did the same. The plumes from their clothes made it difficult to see.

“Let’s get to the control room. We gotta help Fade fix up the communications or we’re all toast.”

“Blueberry flavored?” Karen suggested.

Destiny broke into a giggle. Bert couldn’t hold back a laugh of his own, even though he didn’t understand the reference. His mood changed suddenly as he gathered the nerve to take command.

“Hey, this is no time for jokin’. We’re in trouble in case ya didn’t notice. The captain is even thinkin’ bout abandonin’ the ship. Our engines are gone, long with just bout every critical maintenance system. We’re leakin’ air like the Haugnaten asteroid disaster, and we ain’t got much in the way of heat neither. We’ll be lucky if we can hook up with the Neimun, if not, well, we’ll be dead.”

“Hey, the monkey knows history,” Karen mocked, moving past him at a jogging pace. He pulled her back.

“If you want to stay alive I suggest you walk slowly, we havta take air lightly.”

“I think you said it wrong,” Destiny interrupted. “The saying goes ‘Leaking air like the Haugnaten mines.’ I mean, it was an asteroid mining disaster but you don’t say that in the expre...”

“Would you shut up!” Karen and Bert both said simultaneously.

Karen frowned bitterly at the idea that she had been thinking the same thought as him. He smirked flirtatiously and got kneed in the crotch. Karen leaned against the wall and stretched out a bit, relaxing as she waited for Bert to recover.

“You insane witch!” Bert growled, as Destiny floated above him on her way to the bridge. “What ya do that for?”

“I’m doing the world a favor. Hopefully, you’ll never be able to have children.”

“I never wanted any darn rug rats, but I just might have one to spite you.”

Bert floated to the opposite end of the hall, conducting a supreme effort to straighten his posture.

“Either I’m getting used to this, or you’re beginning to like me, I barely felt that,” Bert said before curling into the fetal position.

Karen shook her head, “Pathetic,”

The air in the well-lit bridge was warmer and more breathable than anywhere else. Fade’s bottom half extended from underneath the communications console as he laid on the floor. His regular battle corps issued boots were replaced by the blue rubber of an old space suit, a color only slightly lighter than the fusion powder that dominated most of the ship. A twisted panel floated past his knee. A crowbar floated next to a toolbox that hovered inches from the floor. Destiny tried to be silent but failed to suppress her cough. Sparse specks of blue sparkled in the white light. Fade pulled himself out, startled by her bluish silhouette.

“Are you all right?”

“Do I look all right?”

“Stupid question.”

Karen burst in. Bert entered cautiously, following from behind. Fade pulled himself back under the console.

“Bert, Destiny, I need you to help me adjust the frequency so we can contact Soel. We’ve lost contact and he’s the only one who can bail us out.”

“Let me take a look under there,” Destiny said, pulling herself under the console next to Fade, “You’re connecting the wrong wires, try this.”

They reworked the wires as Bert slowly turned black plastic knobs for manual adjustment. A harsh black and white static appeared on the visual screen, an unpleasant screech cried over the audio. Bert checked the frequency gauges, adjusting them with a screw driver. The work involved much speculation, lasting until every calculation for distance, position and frequency was within the correct tolerance.

“Lieutenant Soel,” Fade said into the speaker, leaving Destiny with the wires, “This is Fade of the Imminent Destruction. Can you hear me? Do you copy?”

A spark flew from the screen. Soel’s picture turned to static.

“I have audio, but no visual,” Soel said, “What happened there?”

“We still need rescue. Our air supplies are exhausted.”

Soel appeared once more, but quickly vanished. Then the screen exploded. Dark, jagged pieces of glass shot across the bridge. Karen retreated into the hall. Glass pieces glistened as they floated amidst them. Fade checked the audio, he still had the Lieutenant.

“Don’t think it was sposed at do that,” Bert said.

“We’re going back to Hakkut as soon as we get the engines running,” Soel said, “How far are you?”

“A mere fifty kilometers, doesn’t the Neimun have a towing attachment?”

“It’s not a repair ship, Captain Defacto.”

“Can’t you tow me to the Makler docks. There’s a jump bridge orbiting Weift that takes you within a few parsecs. I’ll pay you fifty thousand Harnicor, up front.”

“I said she’s not a repair ship; besides, I have to go to Hakkut using an evasive course and await further orders, so no deal.”

“We’ll be dead if you don’t help us. The Imminent Destruction is hemorrhaging badly, my hatches are failing.”

“You can still board the Neimun,” Soel said, “You have my permission.”

“But the Imminent Destruction!?”

“I think the Imminent Destruction has seen its namesake, Captain. I’m in a good mood. Don’t push me too far, for I have little time.”

“My docking bay is off-line.”

“You have space suits, no?”

“They’re relics.”

“Better than nothing. I’ll get the Neimun as close as possible. Your ship will be the center axis for now. Which way is your safest hatch facing?”

“Toward northern space.”

“Good, I’ll come in on the positive Z line and work my way down at a ninety degrees,” Soel explained, “You should be able to jump from the Destruction with no problems. The area is clear of enemy interference.”

Red warning lights started blinking like a mad disco. Fade noticed his breath becoming labored.

Horace activated, “This area has developed an unfavorable carbon dioxide to oxygen ratio. I have no further oxygen reserves for release, please evacuate or use a carbon dioxide converter.”

“Can I launch a storage pod onto your ship? Do you have a pod retrieval entry device near your hatch?”

“That should be no problem,” Soel said, “Ten minutes. You better be ready by then.”

Fade threw off the headset, staggered to the closet, grabbed the helmet, and pulled on the glove attachments to his suit. The thick gloves went over his suit’s sleeve and tightened immediately after he pushed the pressure pin. He clasped his helmet under his arm and let spare equipment float aimlessly as Bert gathered his own suit.

“Sergeant Payson. Take Karen and that pile of suits to the infirmary. Change into whatever fits reasonably. Make sure the seals for the boots and gloves are properly closed, and check for breaches in the fabric. These are very old suits. I don’t know how well they’ll perform, but we don’t have much of a choice.”

Karen would have stomped her foot, but failed for the lack of gravity.

“You’re not kidding these are antiquated, not to mention in questionable repair, and designed for men.”

“Look Miss Howards. If you don’t want to wear them that’s fine with me. You can stay here and die of asphyxiation if you don’t freeze first. I could care less. We don’t have any working carbon dioxide converters for these suits either, so we have to have as much oxygen in them as possible. Don’t put your helmets on until you get to the hatch and I say so.”

Destiny grabbed Karen along with the suits, pulling them both away. Bert opened the receptacle in front of his chair, pulling out a plastic bag. He stashed his cigarettes inside, getting four handfuls before sealing it. Then he left with a quick salute.