Inspiration Season

3

Leaning her head against Emmanuel's chest, Miranda sighed—heard and felt his answering sigh, as contented as her own. She wrapped her hands in his and smiled. Finding out that her crush on him was reciprocated had been the best thing to happen to her all year.

She wanted to stay here all night. Could they get away with it? This sector would probably be empty for at least another six months, so no one should have any reason to be watching it. They could sleep here, leave in the morning, and then—

She remembered the slides.

"Emmanuel." She whispered his name against his skin. "I have to go. Did you still want to..."

Emmanuel stirred slowly, as if waking, though his eyes had been open. "Of course." His voice was a faint rumble, pitched as if to let Miranda herself sleep. She couldn't believe how much she liked him. "Let's get dressed," he said, "and we'll go get started. Then..." He helped her sit up, looking almost hesitantly at her face. "After that, we could maybe get breakfast, if you've got time? Or go back to mine and grab a nap?" He winked, and passed her her shirt.

Miranda smiled. "Breakfast sounds lovely." They dressed and helped each other stand.

But when they opened the door, a shrieking klaxon flooded the room—a buzzing, screaming, pulsing whoop that went on and on and on. They stumbled back, taking scant shelter from the onslaught in the closet.

"What the hell is that?" Miranda hissed.

Emmanuel paled. He stared out into the hallway as if he were looking at the end of the world. "It's he breach alarm," he said. "Something's gotten into the building."

The klaxon continued for fifteen or twenty seconds, and then it stopped. A voice message played.

"This is a repeated warning. All personnel are to evacuate the facility immediately. If no exits are accessible from your location, please find a secure location and remain there until this alert has lifted. This is a repeated message. This message will repeat in five minutes."

They stared at each other in mirrored shock. "What the hell?" Miranda said again. "What happened?"

"I don't know." Emmanuel took out his phone and scanned the newsfeed. "There are no details, just the same announcement posted like twenty times."

"Why wouldn't they say?" She edged out of the closet and started down the hall, wincing against the noise, all her nerves alert. The gate to the Rip was in the basement, a long twisting way from here.

Emmanuel followed quickly. "Maybe they didn't have time. Come on."

The siren cut off before they got to the stairwell, leaving the hallway eerily silent. Rubbing her ears, Miranda wondered how long the alert had been playing. They'd been in the closet for... she checked her phone... about four hours. Everyone must be long gone by now.

"We need to find the command center for this floor," she said. "It should have some hard-copy maps, maybe an emergency kit—and maybe we can check the security feed."

Emmanuel shook his head. "We have to get to the Rip. It's too dangerous to stay here." He paused. "But..."

"But the gate's probably sealed by now." It was protocol to seal off access to the Rip after an evacuation. Miranda was sure her expression was as grim as Emmanuel's. "Should we try anyway, or try to find someplace to hide?

He started to answer, but then froze, staring down the hall. Turning, Miranda saw the Haze.

It filled the hall—a massive wall of billowing purple fog, gliding steadily towards them. There was no way to see beyond it.