Four Worlds

by Maureen A. Miller

“Gordeelum. Gordeelum. Gordeelum.” JOH chanted quietly.

  “What’s the matter? Communications are not working from outside the barrier?” Salvan goaded.

  “Enough,” Aimee shouted. “Open the door.”

  Panic manifested into short, rapid breaths. Aimee tried to squelch her anger. It only made matters worse. She reached for her necklace, fingering Zak’s pendant.

  “I have to go now, Aimee.” Salvan whispered. “I have to get back to work on my sanitation shift. They’ll certainly be upset if I don’t clean up their garbage.”

  He tapped on the door one last time and then she thought she detected the sound of receding footsteps.

  “Salvan?” Nothing. “Salvan!”

  JOH’s eyes morphed into huge black orbs. “Gordeelum. Gordeelum. Gordeelum,” he chanted again to no avail.

  Aimee collapsed back against the wall and slid down to the floor where she sat with her arms wrapped around her knees.

  “Don’t worry, JOH. Zak will be here soon. Zak will be here soon,” she repeated the mantra.

  Casting a glance back towards the entrance to the atrium, she searched the walls as her mind began to play tricks on her. Cracks crept along the walls like boney black fingers–reaching–extending–coming closer. She blinked and they were gone.

  “I have had enough of Salvan,” JOH condemned in a rare display of anger. “This time I will make sure he is locked up for good. He is right. The disciplinary actions of the Horus administrative panel is lax at best.”

  Aimee raised her eyebrows. She had never seen JOH so agitated. Rather than fueling his ire, she dropped her forehead onto her knees and closed her eyes. After a brief spell, she began to feel sleepy. A quick nap while waiting wouldn’t be so bad, right?

  “Aimee. Stay awake. Tell me the latest on Earth. What has changed since we last talked?”

  How could she possible chronicle that? Technology changed every day on Earth.

  “Our planet fights too much,” she muttered groggily. “Everyone thinks their way is the right way. If only they knew that they were all such tiny specs in a much greater vista. What if the Korons landed on Earth? Would all these singular beliefs and battles matter? Wouldn’t the whole planet want to band together to protect itself?”

  Great. Indeed, the oxygen must be thinning. She was turning philosophical—ready to speculate on plans to bring peace and unity to Earth.

  “All planets battle, Aimee. Ultimately it is usually over food or currency. Both represent power.”

  Wisdom from a computer. JOH was always dead on.

  “Aimee!”

  Aimee launched to her feet, swaying unsteadily.

  “Zak!” she cried out.

  “JOH, are you there?” Gordy hollered through the wall. “You know better than to allow Aimee to stay too long outside the airlock.”

  JOH frowned. “I have been trying to open this door for nearly a seram, and I have also been trying to reach you through your suit.”

  “Get that door open,” Zak commanded. “Aimee, are you okay?”

  “I’m okay,” she muttered.

  “Now,” Zak ordered.

  A sickening whirr came from the other side—the sound of failure.

  “What the—this was working fine when we left,” Gordy grumbled.

  “It was Salvan,” Aimee rested her cheek against the door. The surface felt like ice.

  “Gayat!” Zak cursed. “That’s it for him.” His fist pounded against the metal barrier.

  “Don’t worry about that now,” Aimee soothed. “Just get us out, guys.”

  “Hang on,” Gordy sounded distracted. “There is a manual override, but they encrypted it and I’m trying to get through to an engineer for the code.”

  “How manual is it if you need a code?” she mumbled, but her voice was too soft to be heard by them.

  Feeling the urge to kneel, Aimee started to sink when she heard an optimistic crank from the other side. Struggling back up, she used the wall for leverage and searched the door handle expectantly. In a moment, the cross bars began to spin and the hiss of the airlock breaching was a welcoming sound.

  Zak charged through first—wild eyes searching for and landing on her. He rushed to her side, his hands cupping her arms in support.

  “Aimee, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she assured, although her voice was hoarse. “I really think he just wanted to scare us.”

  Tugging her into his embrace, he vowed, “When I find him—”

  “There’s no time to deal with Salvan,” Gordy swung the door open and motioned JOH through to the other side. “We have to get back to the flight deck. The last simulation I ran indicated this was the final opportunity to get you back to Earth.”

  “Gordy—” Oxygen satisfied Aimee’s lungs as she climbed through the doorway. “We’re putting you at risk. That was never our intention.”

  He raised a hand to curtail her. “I know I sounded a tad dramatic, but we still have sufficient time. No one is at risk. But, let’s keep it that way.”

  In tandem, they progressed down the stark corridor, Zak vigilantly searching for Salvan. Although her distaste for the anemic scientist was well-established, she feared what would happen if Zak finally located him.

  A deadly groan filled the cylindrical path, immediately followed by a jolt that tossed the three of them into the wall. Gordy scrambled up, his hand on the barrier to support him as another shock ripped through the floor.

  Aimee crouched beside Zak, feeling the marbled surface purr beneath them.

  JOH bobbed erratically, his face absent for a moment before it returned and he announced, “We have lost the Jay-three!”

  “No!” Aimee cried. “The Jay-three is huge! Isn’t that the eductional satellite?”

  Her wild glance conveyed her fear over the children.

  “Yes,” Gordy replied bleakly, “but it has been cordoned off. We knew it was in jeopardy, so it was empty.”

  Relief vanished quickly as the next sickening jolt pitched them off balance. Zak’s arm locked around her waist.

  JOH’s face began to flash a yellow overlay—an alarm.

  “Vodu wants you on the bridge,” JOH informed in an agitated voice. His face blanked again, an indication that more information was forthcoming. “The linear transport is no longer secure,” he stated. “It will take us approximately 14 serams to reach the deck through the central passageways.”

  “Come on,” Gordy started to jog down the hall. As soon as they fell in, he picked up his pace.

  JOH zipped alongside Aimee’s head as she scrambled to gain her footing. She caught Zak’s anxious glance and she hoisted a thumb in the air to let him know she was good. Truthfully, she was a little short of breath, but anxiety propelled her down the corridor.

  The distance to the main bridge from the atrium had to be less than a quarter of the ship, but on foot it seemed like forever. When they finally reached the spacious deck teeming with dynamic personnel, Aimee felt her heart drumming hard inside her ribs.

  “Vodu!” Gordy called out, seeing the white hair stooped over a console.

  Vodu rose and watched them approach with troubled eyes.

  “I’m glad you’re here.” He stared down at the hologram of the Guardianship. “The sheer mass of the Horus is proving its undoing. It’s starting to break apart.”

  Aimee rifled through her knowledge of mass in space. There was no such thing as weight without a gravitational pull. Here, weight was not an adversary, but vibration was, and the constant vibration caused by the motion of the Horus was snapping weakened pieces off the main structure.

  “Can we do anything?” she asked.

  Vodu looked morose. “Land,” he stated. “We have to land. We were closing in on Anthum, and I thought we could approach it at a safe speed—a speed that would not provoke further disintegration—but now it appears we don’t have that luxury. We’re going to have to max out our acceleration—”

  “—and increase the chance
of structural failure,” she finished.

  “Yes.” He nodded. “As we approach Anthum, the amount of backthrust that we will need to apply could prove uncontrollable if we increase our current speed.”

  “Which could mean disintegration on impact,” Zak considered dejectedly.

  Aimee glanced at each sullen face, including JOH’s stark black lines. “So, in summary, the Horus is currently falling apart, and we need to increase our speed in order to reach Anthum before the ship disintegrates. The acceleration, however, can cause further collapse from the strain, and disintegration is also a likely option on impact due to us having to slam on the brakes.”

  “Aimee, this is nothing to underrate,” Zak stated softly. “Impact aside, it means we’re not going to make it back to Earth. We’re landing with the Horus.”

  “I’m aware of that.” She crossed her arms and gave him the, I’m not an idiot look.

  Zak’s full lips thinned, and she immediately felt contrite. Well, dammit, she didn’t like cards stacked up against her. It brought the beast out in her.

  “Are these facts correct?” She questioned Vodu who looked pained. He nodded thoughtfully.

  “Yes. The simple truth is that the only chance for safety right now is to land the Horus immediately.” His palm splayed over the hologram of planets floating atop a console. “All charts indicate that at this point, Anthum is the closest planet with an atmosphere to accommodate us. At least we have that going in our favor, otherwise, we might have considered landing somewhere foreign.”

  Aimee stared at the bobbing spheres. Had the Horus not already been on its way to Anthum the chance to make an emergency landing on an uncharted planet was strong.

  Aimee reached for Zak’s hand. She pumped it with conviction, and aimed for a smile, but her voice wavered as she declared, “I’ve always wanted to see Anthum.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Aimee sat in the Bio Ward, her hands clamped around the rim of the elevated bed. She followed Raja’s eyes as they skimmed over a monitor out of Aimee’s sight.

  “All looks good,” the woman pronounced with relief.

  Aimee sighed. “Has anyone spotted Salvan?”

  Raja shook her head. “Craig searched, but he’s been busy securing currency and valuables. Everyone is extremely busy in preparation for landing, and many are relocating because their accommodations are now in endangered zones. But, Salvan will show up eventually. I’m just afraid any discipline may be curtailed given our impending landing.”

  Zak stood in the corner, his arms crossed and a foreboding look on his face. “He didn’t know Aimee was pregnant. His prank could have had serious repercussions.”

  Ever the mediator, Raja reasoned, “There is enough oxygen in the atrium. She wouldn’t have been in any real danger for quite some time. Panic most likely attributed to Aimee’s shortness of breath.”

  “I don’t panic,” Aimee mumbled petulantly.

  Neither of them paid her any heed as they continued their debate.

  “Anthum is one solar system away,” Zak said. “We’ve amped up the speed, and as you pointed out, many have been forced to relocate to the core chambers of the ship. Leave it to Salvan to lurk outside the airlocks. All I can hope is he gets jettisoned into space.”

  “Zak,” Raja admonished.

  Zak shook his head and frowned. “Well, as you said, we don’t have time to deal with him now. Many of our landing stabilizers are on the exterior-most wings of the ship, making them vulnerable at the pace we’re traveling.”

  “What are we going to do?” Aimee asked.

  Zak looked at her. Shadows prowled in his eyes.

  “Raja,” he turned his head, “can you give us a few moments?”

  Raja bowed. “I’m going to check on Craig. We’ll see you both later.”

  “Thanks, Raja,” Aimee called after the retreating blonde.

  As soon as they were alone, she took a deep swallow and asked, “What?”

  “I should have never brought you here. We would have been safe on Earth. I could have protected you from any doctor’s invasive curiosity.” His wide palm flicked in frustration. “I can’t protect you from this.”

  Aimee took a deep breath. Part of her wanted to shake her fists in the air and remind him that she was by no means a frail woman in need of protection. That part also wanted to remind him that the decision to come to the Horus was mutual. But, the emotional side of her recognized his love. That part quaked from the heat in his eyes.

  Zak wasn’t some macho beefcake, pumping his chest like Tarzan. In his eyes, she recognized the fear she had seen on Ziratak when she first recovered from the blast of the Koron’s solar ray. Fear of losing her. His need to protect was rooted deep in his heart. He simply could not bear to see her hurt. That raw emotion humbled her. That fierce love blanketed her.

  Climbing off the bed, she approached him, her hands settling on his forearms. She could feel them tense under her touch. He wanted to reach for her, but she held him steady.

  “We’ve been through much worse than this,” she assured in a soothing tone. “We have battled forest creatures, Korons, drug lords, and yes, even Salvan. We can handle the Horus.”

  Her tone was working. Some of the tension left his eyes.

  “I am not trusting our fate to the Horus,” he declared quietly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Before this ship lands on Anthum, I am going to put you on a terra angel. A Warrior—most likely Gordeelum can fly you in with a safe landing.”

  Aimee stumbled backwards. “No! If any terra angels are going to be used, they have to be reserved for those most in need—”

  “What, women and children, you mean?” He raised a dark eyebrow. “I think you cover that.”

  “Vodu. The top assembly. And yes, women and children, and their husbands and fathers. But, not me. Not without you.”

  “I’d fly it myself, but my eyes—” his words dropped off.

  “That’s not the point.” She reached up and touched his cheek, admiring those eyes.

  “If you boarded a terra angel I would be there too,” she continued. “I go where you go. We don’t separate. Ever. And we are not entitled to preferential treatment. Others should have that opportunity ahead of us—Oh!” She dropped her hand to her stomach.

  “What is it?” Zak’s gaze became unnerved and his hands clasped tight around her forearms. “Sit down. Let me get Raja.”

  “No.” She smiled. “He moved. Here—” she grasped Zak’s hand and placed it on the swell of her abdomen. “Can you feel him?”

  Dark eyebrows knitted, Zak still anxious that she was in pain. Again, the subtle movement nudged her belly—a tiny hand, foot, or elbow seeking a more comfortable position. Zak’s eyes widened. He stared at her, his palm flattening against her stomach.

  “He’s moving,” he whispered in wonder.

  Aimee grinned like a child on Christmas morning.

  “Zon will be strong like his father.”

  “Zon,” Zak repeated in awe. “Are you sure about the name?”

  “Definitely. It is a grand and powerful name. If we have to, we can call him John to strangers on Earth. But he will be our Zon. Our little Warrior.”

  To her surprise, a sheen of moisture clouded Zak’s beautiful eyes. “I love you,” he whispered.

  “Good.” She beamed. “Because we love you.” Winding his hand around her hip, she leaned into him and breathed up against his ear. “Now let’s go land this big city in the sky.”

  The sound of a woodpecker interrupted what would have been a really hot kiss, she thought.

  “Who is it?” she called out, still collapsed against Zak.

  “It is Raja.”

  A simple me would have sufficed, Aimee thought, but Raja was way too factual for that.

  “Come on in,” Aimee sighed as she placed a playful kiss on her husband’s lips and then pushed herself off of him.

  Zak’s mouth curled up at the corner.

&
nbsp; Raja entered, her sharp blue eyes surveying the scene as she ducked behind blonde bangs for discretion.

  “I’ve brought you some more clothes.” She set the folded pile down on the bed. “I know you ignored the last set I left you, but if we’re going to be landing on Anthum, it is critical that everyone wear organ-tracking uniforms for a brief spell.” She paused. “Although the global pandemic that once plagued Anthum and the Horus has been eradicated by the serum, we must continue to monitor for any mutations to the original disease. There are no assurances that the crops on Anthum haven’t altered. After we land and have run sufficient tests, you can change.”

  Aimee understood and appreciated that urgency, but she still couldn’t help wrinkling her nose at the folded uniform. “So, Craig has to wear one too, right?”

  Raja’s bangs weren’t long enough to cover her smile. “Correct. Craig has to wear one as well.” She lifted her head and the smile still lingered. “Although I haven’t told him that yet.”

  JOH zipped through the open doorway. His animated face looked chagrined. “It will be easier for me to communicate with you if you have these uniforms on. There aren’t enough of the old models of me to fly around and talk to you in person.”

  “You could use the exercise,” Aimee joked, reaching for the garment, tracing her fingers along the glittery material.

  Visions of the tight bodysuit hugging her round figure haunted her.

  “Your suit has been modified,” Raja read her unease. “To accommodate our maternity analysis.”

  “Maternity analysis?”

  “Your suit monitors two sets of organs,” Raja explained.

  Aimee reached for the glittery uniform with a revised opinion. If it was going to track Zon’s vitals as well, she was all for it.

  “Alright, Zak, why don’t you change and head up to the bridge. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “I’d like to talk to Raja for a minute.”

  With a bow of the head, he murmured, “I’ll change back in our room and meet you up there.” He reached for her hand. “But, the last time you promised to meet up with me you got yourself locked out of the ship.”