A dutiful, ace soldier from Mars faces a dilemma. She can accept an offer from an infuriating gen-eng man from Venus, grab her loyal cat + dig up her inner rebel and maybe become the first human to explore the Galaxy. OR she can keep flying security...
Time Stamp: 31st of the 3rd month, year 2696 CE, 17:02
Location Stamp: Planet Jupiter, Solar System, Milky Way Galaxy
***
I straightened on my hoverboard, surveying Jupiter's shifting landscape. The jumble of twisters made for a magnificent vista from the Solar Wind's observation deck, but up close the pastel wind battered my power suit with the raw determination only nature possesses. A holiday, huh?
For Zan'Zar it was. He raced his hoverboard up the gaseous swell then plunged down, twisting like a Yo-Yo and hooting. I twisted my neck to keep him in sight, because my visor fogged up on the right. It passed the equipment check with flying colors, so I made a quick prayer that everything was hermetically sealed there and shot after my squid through rose clouds.
Then, of course—of course!—the visor blinked neon.
"What now?" I gritted my teeth, and it responded with a high-pitched beep.
"Gorelko, come in," said Shameel's baritone.
A purple meteor—Zan'Zar—dashed across the periphery of my vision. My knees creaked with effort required to rotate the hoverboard and keep tabs on him while holding a conversation with my boss. "Gorelko, standing by."
Lola squeaked over the background static.
"She found a hack in our surveillance with a looping feedback for forty seconds." Shameel interpreted. "This gave the variels ample time to exit their ship. We are bringing everyone back to the Solar Wind as a precaution."
"Understood. Returning to the tender."
I sucked my teeth. First, I had to apprehend my frolicking charge. Second, drag him bodily to the orbital tender at top speed... that is, if I could locate the blessed tender in this non-stop typhoon. Otherwise, I would be dragging Zan'Zar really fast in a totally wrong direction.
"Negative, Gorelko," Shameel said. "You're close to Mikado's lab. Get there and go in lock-down until the cavalry comes to get you."
"Roger that. Gorelko out."
So, instead of looking for the blessed tender I had to look for the blessed lab. My wrinkles grew wrinkles while I triangulated our position without a single permanent landscape feature.
Luckily, Zan'Zar's spatial sense in fluids was uncanny. After wasting precious minutes on verifying that he was right the first two times, I gave up and let him lead us to Mikado's lab. Our survival was more important than the protocol.
He whooped with pleasure. Autopilot was out of the question with the trajectory he was charting, so I laid into my knees. My core screamed even with the power assists amplifying each movement.
Despite sweat dripping into my eyes from the effort required to keep up with Zan'Zar, a smile sneaked on my lips: squids would be squids. I didn't have to ask if he was tired, nor if all these somersaults made him queasy. He looked as opposite of queasy as a sentient being could ever hope to be.
Me... well, I didn't bother with flair and I nearly danced for joy when I sighted Mikado's lab through the mist. Terra Firma at last!
Our haven was a long sectional. Its unpainted alloy blotted the native Jovian pinks with dull charcoal gray. The running lights that contoured its barrel shape cut through fifty meters of Jovian fog. If the explorer's zeal ever lured Mikado too fa could always find his way back.
The good doctor was waiting for us in front of the airlock hatch, in contravention to Shameel's orders. Maybe he, indeed, was out and about, and had to hurry back just like us.
"Doctor, this is Gorelko, on the approach."
Mikado gesticulated, making choking sounds. The absurd similarity between how Lola had sounded just now put a frown on my face. A cross-hatch of scars on Mikado's cheek testified that the doc was familiar with searing pain, and he had initiated his unauthorized descent anyway. He was no coward and didn't strike me as an excitable type either. If he was this agitated, something wasn't right!
I juiced my hoverboard to max speed and surged ahead of Zan'Zar. The sooner I could reassure Mikado, the better.
Zan'Zar went right over my head in some sort of quadruple twist-jump-slide move.
"It's not a race!" Despite my worries, despite having every right to feel exasperated with him, I couldn't. "Mikado is in trouble. I want you to stay behind me, until we know what's happening."
"Sorry, Miss Vera," he replied and dropped behind my shoulder.
Before I could expel a sigh of relief, Mikado found his voice, though it had a noticeable quiver. "The fog below the lab... from the condensation of the blah-blah-blah. We're locked out. I... I'll reset the hatch. It happens all the time... don't worry. Just a few seconds—"
He didn't say blah-blah-blah, wasting his time on a long sciency name that was lost on me.
"You should have wedged the door, Doctor," I grunted, fighting for breath after our dash.
Zan'Zar giggled behind my back.
"Thank you for this invaluable contribution, Ms. Gorelko." Mikado muttered and lowered his head to work a device in his hands, presumably to speed up the hatch reset.
Therefore, he didn't see what floated up behind his back.
Alas, neither my foggy visor, nor the ambient pink-out spared me the sight of the four mono-ped slugs. Feelers, one per creature, topped their bodies.
"Shameel, I found our variels. I have a visual on four. Intentions unknown."
"Roger that," Shameel replied.
Unknown, my ass! Variels swung their feelers in unison, toward us. Mouth-holes in the middle of their bellies snarled. The odds that this was their traditional welcome ritual were slim to none.
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