Proxima Dreaming by Brandon Q Morris

Author:Brandon Q Morris [Morris, Brandon Q]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9783947283606
Publisher: Hard-SF.com
Published: 2019-08-27T16:00:00+00:00

They traverse three more rooms. In the fourth they find a resting area. The sleeping beams look so inviting that they almost simultaneously decide they really need a few hours of rest. They share a bit of dried food and wash up. Gronolf stretches along the length of his beam. Letting his limbs hang down feels good.

“Quiet waters,” Murnaka wishes him before falling asleep, following tradition.

“Quiet waters,” he replies.

Archive, Darknight 11, 3350

Gronolf wakes up from a slight noise. He is a warrior, trained to sleep in a way that nothing and nobody can surprise him. He silently reaches for the weapon that hangs directly above the sleeping beam. His eyes are wide open, but it is pitch-dark. The noise comes from ahead and left. Murnaka is sleeping to his right. He can hear her calm and steady breathing.

The sound that woke him is a quiet clacking. It definitely does not come from her. The clacking slowly comes closer, while moving to his left. Gronolf calculates his chances. As soon as he gets up, the light in the room will turn on. It might blind him for a moment, but it should do the same to the intruder. That is, unless it is a machine, which can adapt its sensors faster than his eyes are able to adjust. To him, this seems to be the most realistic scenario. In practical terms, it means he will have to shoot blindly, without knowing exactly what is in front of him, friend or foe. Yet... why would a friend be sneaking around in the dark and deliberately moving in such a way that the motions sensors of the room don’t react? Especially now, with the tension aboard the ship?

Gronolf makes a decision. He uses his sonar to locate the foreign object. At the same time he raises his weapon with a lightning-fast movement and fires at the target he sees with his inner eye. There is a dull crack, but unexpectedly the light does not turn on.

“What’s up?” Murnaka asks softly without moving. This is the perfect behavior for this unpredictable situation, just as one learns during training.

“Possible enemy object destroyed,” Gronolf says. He listens intensively, but the clacking has disappeared. Even his sonar no longer detects a movement.

“Mask on,” he says, because he suddenly hears the typical hissing of air escaping. Somebody has switched the life-support system to pump mode. This does not make much sense to him. The Omniscience must know it cannot hurt them this way. It probably just wants to distract them from something. But from what? From the new intruder behind them! Now Gronolf notices a scurrying movement. The thing is fast, but not fast enough. He whips his weapon around and shoots. No more movement—he must have hit it.

“Retreat in three... two... one,” he whispers. In this room they are at the mercy of their enemy’s plan and can only wait and react. They have to change the situation in order to become active players themselves.

“Go,” he cries. Murnaka obeys at the right moment.

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