The 400 #SciFriday

02

"Hurry, hurry! Keep it moving now..." Shouted an officer, who was ushering the rest of the survivors with his hand. They hastened to find loved ones before they emplaned the Hyundai, and soon nearly all had made it into the massive hangar. But then, like a bomb had gone off, an explosion reverberated through the walls of the titanium ship, startling those who were already onboard and just getting on. They gasped and cried out, grabbing onto loved ones or a nearby stranger while a few fell to their feet. A woman slipped in her steps on the bridge, but she was thankfully caught by a man who gripped at her forearm as she dangled from the edge, desperate to want anything but to plummet down into the sandy dunes of orange and yellow dust below.

The man held on tightly, pulling her up with all his might, back and shoulders burning under the weight. Another loud bang and air exploded from above them, hot with the power essence of the engines within. He and the woman toppled over, landing hard on the metal surface with the smell of gasoline and ozone spilling out into the open air.

"Go!" The man yelled, and the woman obeyed, pushing out of his embrace and sprinting inside the hangar, skirt fluttering like a raven's wings behind her. Wind tore through locks of hair, screams bellowed from constricted chests that were being filled with toxic gas, causing chaos to erupt for those who were the last to arrive in their shuttle. Feet slipping as he clawed at the ridged pathway, the man struggled to regain himself with the forceful cyclones of exhaust blasting into his face and chest. Hands wrapped around his waist, pressuring his ribs as whoever it was that was trying to pull him up succeeded in lifting his body, his chest and fingers feeling drawn like a magnet to the sucking gravity.

As his upper body was peeled from the hands of the pressurized air, he found himself standing in place with the stranger beginning to lead him into the hangar. The world tilted just halfway there, and he fell to his knees, feeling like his head had been hit with a club. Not seeming to want to give up, the apparently strong stranger grabbed under him and yanked him from the floor, holding him up with one, hard, muscular arm.

With his lungs inhaling the toxic gas and making his throat tighten, he and the other rushed over to the entrance of the ship, dull white lights welcoming them as the classified being dropped his cargo to the floor. The man coughed, blood spewing from his lips and onto the grey floor as he breathed heavily, convulsing. Through the blurry film of his eyesight, he caught the sight of a dark man with shining, crystal eyes that were stark white against his almost black skin. His ears rang and pounded, yet he still managed to hear himself speak.

"Thanks." Quil nodded, giving him a thumbs up.

"Attendance!" Someone shouted, catching everyone's attention on board.

***

Ali spotted Quil moving towards her, and sighed with relief. "I thought you didn't make it!"

"Almost," he said, unfazed.

Ali studied the area, where every face she met was clouded over with exhaustion, hunger, pain, and a sadness that filled the eyes of many. The dingy stench that flooded the hangar which was the size of a gymnasium made the low hanging ceiling above become misty with sweat, dirt and grime. Ali's claustrophobic sensation began to grow within her chest as she scanned the crowd that was literally squashed inside the long and narrow room. Gleaming, metal benches with shelves and harnesses attached were put up in the center of the hangar and along the walls, where just a few feet above were tiny windows about a foot high, where viewers could look out into the world unknown to them. Space travel wasn't very common yet; this was to be the first mission to take a large amount of people deep into their solar system.

Another security officer yelled out over the commotion of tangled voices and disembodied words. Her face was firm, her outfit a slim pencil skirt with a skin-tight top. She looked as if she were about self combust from the restraining fabric that held in the well-fit body underneath. Ali could already tell that this officer was quite athletic. In her elegant hands was a tablet, and she poked at it with a finger that had one, long polished nail that shimmered under the damp light.