Molly Fyde and the Parsona Rescue

Instead of this, however, Molly was treated to the jarring horror of all those pinpricks of light simply disappearing.

A Darkness took their place. Poised to strike.

25

“What the hell?” Cole asked.

Molly assumed he referred to the new void they’d entered, but she turned and found him fixated on the SADAR. She looked at her own screen—the normally black and green display was slathered in red warning lights. She’d never seen anything like it. She leaned forward and peered through the canopy—into the impossible blackness beyond. Where in the galaxy had they ended up? How could it be devoid of stars?

The emptiness had bits of detail: a fuzzy line of lighter gray, a jagged string of deepest black. It looked like a wall of charcoal shifting before her.

And then it hit the carboglass, right in front of her nose, with a jarring thunk.

Molly nearly flew out of her skin, yelping like a girl in a horror holo. She instinctively threw her right hand up to shield herself from the thing coming at them, her elbow catching in the grass sling. Cole shifted the flightstick back, moving the ship away from whatever it was.

They crunched into something behind them. A sickening thud and the screech of twisting metal tore through the hull, setting Molly’s nerves on fire. The familiar shiver of a bad docking maneuver overcame her, but this time it wasn’t a simulator. She glanced at the SADAR; red flashes filled the entire screen. Parsona crept forward again, toward the mysterious darkness that had left a mar on the carboglass.

Molly peered through her side porthole and caught a glimpse of a star—it was quickly obscured by something black, and then it flashed out again. When it disappeared once more, she realized where they were. Her chest filled with the dull terror that overtakes someone when they realize, only too late, what sort of danger they’d just avoided. It was the same feeling she’d had a week ago when the hyperdrive nearly zapped her arm off. Only this could have been worse. Much worse.

“Don’t move the ship, Cole.” She reached across with her left hand and rested it on his. “We’re in an asteroid field.”

“Bad noisse in the back!”

Molly turned to see Walter behind their seats, one hand on her headrest, the other pointing toward the rear of the ship. Edison was twisting around in his crew seat and looking forward, a quizzical furrow in his brow.

“Oh my gods—” Cole squinted through his own porthole, watching black shapes twist by, the occasional star poking through. “It’s dense!” he said.

Molly tasted adrenaline in her mouth. That they were alive wasn’t accessible to the part of her brain that knew they’d very nearly disappeared forever. She tried to plan the next move, but she was still admonishing herself for what a stupid thing they’d already done. She watched Cole zoom the SADAR all the way out, but it just turned the display solid red, unable to distinguish individual contacts. He shook his head. “We should totally not be here.”

“You’re right, we should be in the L3 off Darrin I.”

“No, I mean we shouldn’t be here here. In the cockpit. Talking about this. Existing. I’m looking at, say ten meters to the rock behind us and about twelve to the one that bumped the nose. There’s a biggie to my right and a cluster of junk on your side. WHOA!”

Molly flinched. “What?!”

“Man, something just moved across the edge of my range fast. Not all of these are just milling about. We need to get out of here, and quick-like.”

Walter hovered between and behind them, hissing at the bad news.

“Go strap in, buddy,” Cole advised.

He put his hand on Molly’s shoulder. She could feel the cold through her flightsuit.

“It’s okay, Walter, I need you to go buckle up. I don’t want anything happening to you.”

He nodded vigorously and backed away, his eyes fixed on the shapes beyond the glass.

“How’s your wrist feeling?” Cole asked.

“Better. Why? Do you want me to take this?”

“Either that, or we need to switch sides. I’m not comfortable over here at all.”

“I’ll take it, then. It’s been feeling better, I’m just getting in the habit of letting you drive. Do me a favor and call out distances if I get too close.”

“You’re too close right now.”

“Hilarious. Now… watch me get closer.” She pulled the sling over her helmet, the brown Glemot grasses stabbing her with memories. She dropped it in her lap and rubbed her wrist before gripping the flight controls. They felt strange and familiar at the same time; Molly nudged Parsona forward with the smallest of thrusts.

“Uh, you want to fill me in with your plan?” Cole pressed his helmet back into the chair, turning it away from the looming mass as it drew near.

“Making some room. How close are we?”

The nose of the ship banged softly into the meteor, answering her question. She gave a twitch of extra thrust to keep the hulk from bouncing away, a ship-to-ship docking trick that prevented multiple impacts.

“We’re pinned,” she said. “Increasing thrust, let’s hope there isn’t anything bigger on the other side.”

Ramping up the throttle, Molly pressed Parsona forward. She was a porpoise pushing a black ball through water. Out of balance, part of the meteor jutting toward the windshield got closer. Molly gave one more burst of thrust before pulling back. Plumes of forward thruster kicked up dust from the rock ahead, but there was no impact as the massive wall rotated and receded, clearing out the space beyond.

Like Cole had said, it was dense. Dangerous boulders and wannabe moonlets drifted lazily on every side, like primordial monsters grazing on vacuum. Molly held her breath, as if a noise could spook them and create a deadly stampede. A small, skittish lump of rock smashed into one of the larger ones, sending it twisting amid a cloud of quiet debris.

Molly flipped on every exterior floodlight and set the external cameras to cycle at one second intervals. She needed three more brains to process it all. Cole, at least, gave her another. “Incoming, starboard side,” he said.

Molly twisted the ship down and away, like a bullfighter sucking his cape into his side. It wasn’t a big one, she noted as it slid past, but it would’ve made a dent. “Any idea which way is out?”

“Not from the SADAR.” Cole whipped his head around, look-ing at each portal. “There!” he said. “I just saw a cluster of stars at ten o’clock.”

Molly turned to port a few degrees. She saw the flash of lights beyond the weaving shapes of black. She moved forward with as much trust as skill, feeling like any second could be the beginning of something bad.

“Should we have the boys on lookout?” she asked.

“Good idea. Walter, Edison,” he shouted over his shoulder, “get to some windows in the airlock or the staterooms, holler if anything gets too close!”

“Definition of ‘too close’?” Edison asked.

“Uh, fifty meters, pal.” To Molly: “Two o’clock.”

“I see it.” She flicked the flightstick around with ease. Her wrist was stiff, but it didn’t hurt as bad as it had just two days ago; she needed to remember to ask Edison what had been in that balm. She was starting to suspect it wasn’t just topical.

She dodged another small rock; it felt good to be flying again. Every now and then the moving shapes dictated a new “up,” and Molly rotated Parsona, providing width for the wings and readjusting her sense of top and bottom. After a few close calls she started to feel the thrill of being in the simulator, running down canyons in atmospheric flight, banking around sudden turns with a blue ribbon of water