Crucible of the Gods by D.T. Read

Author:D.T. Read [Read, D.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Theogony Books
Published: 2022-12-26T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

Thinking about Derry’s possible condition did become a distraction for me at the Ops desk. What if she really is pregnant? The thought sent a fresh thrill through me.

In the next second, my heart skipped with unexpected panic. A baby. Am I ready for that kind of responsibility? It’d change both our lives a lot more than getting married has.

Doboga, the young Obollan spacer basic on duty with me, furrowed her ebony brow and asked, “What’s got you in a fit ‘f the itchies this mornin’, sir?”

I squashed the exercise ball in my hand, focused on the small cracks developing in its surface, and was about to reply when Huritt and Chesmu swaggered in through the front doors. I guessed they hadn’t flown yet that morning because for once I didn’t smell them coming. They stayed clear of the desk, but I scowled anyway.

“So, Sheggy,” Huritt said, in Chalca as usual, “have you taken your PFT yet? Have you been considering your options for after you fail?” He exchanged smirks with Chesmu and said, “If you haven’t, we’ve come up with a few suggestions for you.”

I didn’t say anything, just maintained my glare, first on one, then the other, and kept squeezing the ball.

“We thought of Officer in Charge of Classified Materials Destruction first.” Chesmu came close to choking on laughter. “But then we thought OIC of Base Sanitation fits you better.”

“Of course,” Huritt said, “that led to OIC of Base Latrine Cleanliness—or can you even hold a mop or toilet swab with that hand?”

I darkened my glower on them, but something twisted deep in my guts. What if I don’t pass my PFT tomorrow? What if my hand can’t hold out to do enough pull-ups? If I don’t pass the PFT, I can’t get my flight physical and check ride.

I must not have concealed my angst very well because Huritt suddenly pulled a wide-eyed face and jabbed his friend in the ribs. “Sket! I think we just triggered a flashback, Ches.” Being careful to stay beyond my reach, he cocked his head, locked his stare on my glower, and said, “Ya, there’s nothing in there behind his eyes. Sounds like a prime candidate for latrine duty to me.”

He and Chesmu roared their guffaws like a pair of drunken revelers and wheeled away from the Ops desk.

“See you later, Sheggy,” Huritt called over his shoulder, “mopping the men’s room!”

Fury and determination twisted into a tornado in my soul. I will pass my PFT tomorrow. I will! All of it. All of it.

My right hand closed on the exercise ball. In my anger, I squeezed it until every sinew seared.

To my shock, it suddenly ruptured into four large chunks and a shower of dark blue crumbs.

Spacer Doboga stared and swore in some Obollan language. “Remind me never to get on your bad side, sir!”

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