Not fairy tales - Nadyn Bagout

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it is difficult to remain calm.

      His heart was pounding more than usual, but Christophe managed to pull himself together: the art of meditation was doing its job even now, when silence and solitude were out of the question.

      The suite fit him perfectly – at least the prisoners had learned not to tamper with the cut – and, at first glance, should have done its job. The air conditioning, the humidity and temperature control, the lightweight exoskeleton with reinforcements at the neck, lumbar and joints, the water and nutrient supply tubes-all seemed smartly made, with clear plans to use the suit in the future.

      The engine, despite its compactness, weighed on his shoulders and back, pinning Jes to the floor, but in a second the exoskeleton worked at full power, taking and redistributing the weight so that the entire suit began to feel no heavier than a simple city backpack. Yes, not a bad technique.

      For some reason he felt truly protected. So much so that he didn’t hesitate to step into the void behind the open mouth of the airlock as soon as the signal sounded.

      His palms touched the rope, attaching the last hold, then unfastened the carabiners still holding Christophe to the «Daisy», and began the glide into the void, toward the beckoning blue ball. He moved slowly at first, adjusting to the position of his body in space, recovering his momentarily disrupted breath, but after three hundred meters from the station Jes was fully assembled and, giving the command, started the engine.

      Home… High, bright skies and waves lapping on the shore… See you soon…

      ***

      Charlie took a decent bite of the lunch sandwich, unleavened, like cardboard or sawdust. No, he hadn’t lost his taste from worry; it was just that good food was never here. Well, munching on it while you gawk at the descent would do.

      They were lucky this time: the petal of their compartment was pointed almost in the center today, so that there was a good view of the descent string – compared to the outer sectors, which would see nothing at all.

      Ars came over and looked out the window as well.

      «So, we haven’t started yet?»

      «That’s right, you’re just in time. Look, the airlock is already opening.»

      The buddies clung to the glass.

      A man rolled out of the airlock membrane and quickly crawled along the cable. Though in his experimental spacesuit he looked more like an insect – a snow-white mixture of a grasshopper and a crunch larva. Slightly flaring engines behind him enveloped crimson glow the frail figure against the background of the huge planet.

      «Look how fast he is! It’s as if he’s been preparing somewhere.»

      «Hmm… indeed. Maybe he can do it.»

      The man was hurtling downward faster and faster. Soon he was nothing but a gleaming blob flowing down a gray vein.

      «I think it’s… it’s lower now, like…» Charlie didn’t finish.

      A carmine-yellow flash pierced the darkness. The rope, torn by the explosion, was thrown in the direction of the station. A moment – and nothing more reminded of the failed attempt to return.

      «I knew it!» Ars huffed. «I told you they were shooting them with garbage on purpose, and you’re an „accident is an accident.“ Scientists, my ass! A little debris – there’s not many of them flying around, huh? Just bad luck. Boom! Ratings!»

      «Why didn’t you tell him?» Charlie sighed and shook his head.

      «How could I not?! I warned him. But do they listen? They’re all drawn back… there’s nothing you can do to stop that power…»

      Purrer

      Purrer woke up earlier than usual today. Softly, but perceptibly, all the nearby compartments vibrated, following the uterine grunt of gears, pumps, filters, and ducts.

      «Purrer» is how the stationers nicknamed the orbital gravity drill – a huge structure that occupied almost half of the cruiser, not counting the storage facilities.

      Tamor felt the floor shake as he sat down at the communal table. He was on time: he hadn’t even spilled his vitamin shake. The boys, on the other hand, were a little late.

      It’s to be expected, though. They’re always sleeping when they get a day off.

      It’s all right, they’ll all get a real rest soon enough, and they should just go home.

      Rechce stumbled into the canteen, rattling, hooking the doorjamb with his shoulder, as usual.

      Yes, the engineers had somehow failed to take into account the fact that new races were involved in the missions. That’s why the golut didn’t fit in half of the aisles. True, we should not forget the natural clumsiness of this snow-white hulk.

      Several new threads were added to the cobwebs of small cracks in the light green panels of the hall’s panelling. Rechce, naturally, paid no attention to this.

      «Hey, Brigadier!» he shouted loudly as he made his way over to Tamor. «They’re early today, ain’t they? In a hurry. Good, ’cause I’m sick and tired of being stuck here eating this crap… What are they serving, by the way?»

      Golut looked at his companion’s plate, grinned dismissively, and rushed to the food counter. The android scurried about, fulfilling his ever-increasing order. In the end, Rechce sat down next to his friend, taking up most of the table with his tray of piled food. Tamor only smiled as he watched the big chunks of meat, bowls of salad, and a whole box of donuts disappear into his friend’s mouth. He himself contented with a couple of sandwiches and two cups of coffee and milk: he was just savoring the last sips.

      Golut burped when he ate, spoiling all the fun of breakfast with the stench that came out. It wasn’t the first time, though, and the station men were used to more than that.

      «Hey, Tam, do you think, if this is the way things are going, when do you think we’ll be done?»

      «Well, if the commander doesn’t change the schedule, three or four days at the most,» he looked out the wide window, behind which a dusty red-brown ball was slowly spinning. «Yeah, that’s about right.»

      «I wish,» Rechce patted himself on his hairy belly. «I want to go to my mom’s house to get a decent meal, huh?»

      The foreman indefinitely shrugged his shoulders: no one was waiting for him at Tsimfei.

      «To be honest, though,» his comrade continued, «I don’t understand why we’re hanging around here at all. Everything important has been taken out long ago, so what else are they looking for? There’s only stone.»

      In a sense, he was right: every living thing had been moved years ago – every animal, fish or bird, every bacterium, every tree or seed. Next came water, then metals, and now, really, only ancient rocks and a lukewarm core remained.

      «I don’t know… the consul knows best.»

      «The Consul, oh, please! No,» golut shook his finger, «it’s his henchman that’s inducing him. Search and dig! More for me, more for me! What’s a man need so much for, I ask you? The capital swindler!»

      Behind them rumbled a pot that had fallen: the mechanical dispenser had become loose lately, often dropping dishes. The sound echoed through the dining room. A rattling sounded sick to the ears, and then faded away.

      Rechce snorted.

      «Oh, yeah! He grabs and saves on equipment. Although… Did I hear the „Purrer“ is going to be decommissioned after this mission?»

      Tamor nodded.

      «Most likely. Some parts are useless to fix, you know. It’s even a bit of a pity: it was a good station.»

      «Aha! Deserved to be here, didn’t it?»

      «More

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