couldn’t speak.
And then Cromartie snapped awake.
He sat up in his bed and looked around his small room. The light was still on over the desk. He sat there staring at the light and listening to his own heavy breathing. He was sweating. He felt like he’d just been about to learn something important in the dream, some critical piece of information that could save himself—maybe save all of them—and then he had woken up.
He thought about his dream, but the more he tried to remember it the faster all of it seemed to slip away.
Did he have some kind of brain damage?
Temporary short-term memory loss, MAC had called it.
But Cromartie began to wonder if the damage was more severe than that.
FOURTEEN
A braham had been asleep when a noise out in the corridor woke him up. It was a soft noise, a sly noise, like someone trying to be quiet. He lay there and listened for another moment and then he recognized the sound of someone shutting a door out there.
He got up and crept to his door. He opened it just a crack and peeked out.
Ward was walking down the corridor towards the bridge. He didn’t seem to be hurrying, but there was something strange about the way he was walking. He stayed close to the corridor wall, staring straight ahead and not looking back as he moved on down the hall.
Abraham opened the door wider and watched Ward.
Ward never looked back at Abraham even though he was fairly sure Ward had to have heard him step out of his room.
Before Ward reached the doorway that led to the next hall where the dining hall, kitchen, and eventually the bridge were, he turned to the archway in the right side of the hall which opened up to the metal stairway that led up to the upper level where the cryo-room was located.
Abraham slipped all the way out of his room and closed his door softly. He hurried down the corridor, trying to be quiet as he followed Ward.
He hurried up the metal steps and reached the top of them, waiting there for a moment, looking around. He didn’t see Ward anywhere.
He walked over to the circular archway that led into the cryo-room. For a moment he was sure that he would see the snarling face of Ward as he jumped in front of his path in the archway, demanding to know why he was being followed.
After a deep breath Abraham stepped inside the cryo-room. Maybe Ward had gone into the cryo-room to inspect the cryochambers, trying to find a way to get them to work again, trying to figure out a way to get back inside, back to the blissfully black sleep of suspended animation
Ward wasn’t in the cryo-room. He was somewhere up here on this level, but he wasn’t here in the cryo-room.
Abraham peeked back out through the archway of the cryo-room at the part of the hallway that he could see. The hallway up here wasn’t a straight line like the one on the level below them; this corridor had two sharp jogs in it where more storage rooms and machines were built into the walls.
There was a sound from somewhere farther down the hall; it was a very soft sound, just a slight scrape, like a shoe scuffing against the metal floor.
Ward was somewhere down that hall.
Abraham left the archway of the cryo-room and slinked down the hall, staying close to the metal wall. When he came to the first of those jogs in the corridor, he hid behind the wall for a moment and then peeked around the corner.
Ward stood very still in front of the airlock door. His face was slack and emotionless, his hands hung loosely down by his sides.
Was he going to try to open the door?
Ward still hadn’t moved a muscle; he wasn’t reaching for the large green button protected by the clear plastic shell mounted on the wall beside the door.
Abraham didn’t know what to do. Should he call out to Ward and stop him from opening that door? Should he go back down below and get the others?
Suddenly, Ward seemed to come alive. He glanced around like he knew someone was watching him, and then he turned around like he was going to walk back
And then Cromartie snapped awake.
He sat up in his bed and looked around his small room. The light was still on over the desk. He sat there staring at the light and listening to his own heavy breathing. He was sweating. He felt like he’d just been about to learn something important in the dream, some critical piece of information that could save himself—maybe save all of them—and then he had woken up.
He thought about his dream, but the more he tried to remember it the faster all of it seemed to slip away.
Did he have some kind of brain damage?
Temporary short-term memory loss, MAC had called it.
But Cromartie began to wonder if the damage was more severe than that.
FOURTEEN
A braham had been asleep when a noise out in the corridor woke him up. It was a soft noise, a sly noise, like someone trying to be quiet. He lay there and listened for another moment and then he recognized the sound of someone shutting a door out there.
He got up and crept to his door. He opened it just a crack and peeked out.
Ward was walking down the corridor towards the bridge. He didn’t seem to be hurrying, but there was something strange about the way he was walking. He stayed close to the corridor wall, staring straight ahead and not looking back as he moved on down the hall.
Abraham opened the door wider and watched Ward.
Ward never looked back at Abraham even though he was fairly sure Ward had to have heard him step out of his room.
Before Ward reached the doorway that led to the next hall where the dining hall, kitchen, and eventually the bridge were, he turned to the archway in the right side of the hall which opened up to the metal stairway that led up to the upper level where the cryo-room was located.
Abraham slipped all the way out of his room and closed his door softly. He hurried down the corridor, trying to be quiet as he followed Ward.
He hurried up the metal steps and reached the top of them, waiting there for a moment, looking around. He didn’t see Ward anywhere.
He walked over to the circular archway that led into the cryo-room. For a moment he was sure that he would see the snarling face of Ward as he jumped in front of his path in the archway, demanding to know why he was being followed.
After a deep breath Abraham stepped inside the cryo-room. Maybe Ward had gone into the cryo-room to inspect the cryochambers, trying to find a way to get them to work again, trying to figure out a way to get back inside, back to the blissfully black sleep of suspended animation
Ward wasn’t in the cryo-room. He was somewhere up here on this level, but he wasn’t here in the cryo-room.
Abraham peeked back out through the archway of the cryo-room at the part of the hallway that he could see. The hallway up here wasn’t a straight line like the one on the level below them; this corridor had two sharp jogs in it where more storage rooms and machines were built into the walls.
There was a sound from somewhere farther down the hall; it was a very soft sound, just a slight scrape, like a shoe scuffing against the metal floor.
Ward was somewhere down that hall.
Abraham left the archway of the cryo-room and slinked down the hall, staying close to the metal wall. When he came to the first of those jogs in the corridor, he hid behind the wall for a moment and then peeked around the corner.
Ward stood very still in front of the airlock door. His face was slack and emotionless, his hands hung loosely down by his sides.
Was he going to try to open the door?
Ward still hadn’t moved a muscle; he wasn’t reaching for the large green button protected by the clear plastic shell mounted on the wall beside the door.
Abraham didn’t know what to do. Should he call out to Ward and stop him from opening that door? Should he go back down below and get the others?
Suddenly, Ward seemed to come alive. He glanced around like he knew someone was watching him, and then he turned around like he was going to walk back
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