Story Sampler

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  Ed Granger studied the schematics and shook his head. It was an old design, reliable and unimaginative. The science labs were efficient, stocked with the best equipment that would fit in the tight little spaces, but it was far from what he was used to at Mars Base. He would have to be creative if anything strange happened – as it almost certainly would.

  “Hi Ed,” Meredith said as she entered the lab.

  “Hello,” he said, glancing up from his console. “I hear the roster’s going to be posted tomorrow.”

  “Yes,” she nodded. “But the scuttlebutt says you’ll be on it.”

  “We’ll see,” he said, turning his attention to Meredith. “But it won’t be an easy decision. You’re just as qualified as I am – if not more.”

  “Hah!”

  Ed raised his eyebrows as a sudden frown distorted the roundness of her face into a bitter oval that threatened to overtake her eyes. They were pretty brown eyes, and he’d had a great deal of trouble avoiding them of late. Lilith had been gone too long.

  “Oh, I know,” Meredith said, waving away his concern. “It isn’t just science, you know. It’s also chemistry. If they choose Lilith to be the commander, you’re a shoe-in to be the science officer. If not,” she shrugged. The round nubs of her shoulders undulated, and he found his eyes drawn to them.

  “Lilith still has two months left on that asteroid survey for The Cartel. Mars Base won’t disrupt that.” Two more months of temptation, he added to himself as he realized his eyes had strayed a bit too low for propriety. He tried to mask his interest – and discomfort – by turning his gaze back to the Snodgrass schematics. “It’s a quaint little ship,” he said. “And that pod,” he shook his head. “Small quarters and a lot of gadgets.”

  “True,” Meredith said, sitting down beside him and tilting her head. A few auburn strands escaped the tight little bun that topped her head. “But The Snodgrass mission isn’t scheduled for departure until after she gets back, and she has a lot of time to read up on it while she’s hopping between asteroids.”

  Ed nodded. “They’ve been sending her updates,” he said, “but they’ve held back a lot of the mission details. They won’t send any of those until they’ve made their decision. Besides,” he added, “she’s never commanded a ship before. Most of the other candidates have. If they take one of them, you’ll be on it.”

  “Oh, really? Like you’d turn it down,” she said, nudging his shoulder with her own.

  Ed turned to her, and said, quietly, “Yes.” As soon as he said it, he knew it was true. If Lilith was not on the ship, he wouldn’t be either. He would be wherever she was – if she’d let him tag along. He shrugged. “It’s a long mission.” Three years too long.

  Meredith stared at him for a long moment before reaching up to tuck the stray strand of hair back into her bun. “You miss her, don’t you,” she said quietly.

  Before he could muster up a response, the intercom chimed in. “Central Control to Ed Granger. Central Control to Ed Granger. Priority 1.”

  Meredith’s eyes widened as Ed leapt to his feet and ran toward the intercom panel and tabbed the button. “Granger to Central Control.”

  A moment later, a voice said, “Transferring.”

  The delay was longer than normal before an efficient communications officer rapidly confirmed his identity. Ed’s fingernails dug into his palms as he went through the routine of providing his name, identity code, and security clearance. At length, a new voice asked, “Is the transmission secure on your end?”

  “Securing,” he said, punching in a few numbers before turning to Meredith.

  “Of course,” she said, making her way out of the lab.

  He finished punching in the code and said, “Transmission isolated.”

  “Mr. Granger, this is Admiral Ashcroft. Our outpost on Ceres reports that long-range imaging indicates The Junket has been severely damaged and is adrift in orbit around the asteroid it was surveying. We have not received any messages, and the status of the pilot—”

  “Lilith,” Ed whispered harshly, his forehead gently coming to rest against the communicator’s console.

  “—is uncertain. Your assistance is requested.” There was a momentary pause, then Admiral Ashcroft said, “Pardon?”

  It took him a few seconds to compose himself. “Lilith,” he said. “The pilot’s name is Lilith Greenberg.”

  “Yes,” Admiral Ashcroft said. “It is. Do you know– No, there isn’t time. We need your help. We’re assembling a team of scientists to troubleshoot—”

  “When do I leave?”

  “—the problem, and you—” the Admiral paused a moment, then said. “The cruiser will arrive at South Port shortly. The Fifth Wheel. Specifics of the situation will be relayed and updated to the cruiser as they become available.”

  “I’m on my way,” he said, toggling off the communicator. A moment later, he rushed through the lab’s door and ran headlong into Meredith, almost sending them both sprawling to the floor.

  “Sorry,” he said, setting her down. “Have to go.”

  “That bad?”

  “Yes,” he said, turning away and sprinting down the corridor.

  “Can I help?” she called after him.

  He half-turned, “No—” and kept going until he slowed at the end of the corridor. He caught the corner with his hand and propelled himself around it.