Jupiter's Halo Book Two: The Fall

Chapter 22

A sense of fear was already pervading the station’s lower decks.

Dalton walked quickly, his eyes darting into every corner and searching every face he saw for signs of threat. There were none. Mostly what he saw were confusion and fear. The crew knew something terrible was happening, but without active comms from the Bridge, they had no idea what.

He wanted to tell them to get out. To save themselves and the families they had started out here in the black. Blist’s voice in his head kept his mouth sealed shut, reminding him of their mission, of the sacrifices that had to be made.

Their progress was slower than he would have liked. Doctor Ardley’s failing stamina meant the man had to stop every few minutes to adjust the way he carried Bramley and complain about the burden.

Dalton remained deaf to his whining as they made their way past the loading bay. He stopped at the first set of doors allowing entry and opened one to look into the cavernous space beyond.

The view was filled with the detritus of such places; crates, machinery, metal gantries and walkways littered with boxes and barrels. His eyes lifted to the backdrop that dominated everything before it. The bay opened on the far side, it’s huge entry covered by a molecule-thin film to keep the vacuum beyond from sucking away the life of the station. Its view was dominated by the blue planet, swathed in lines of white that streaked across the few visible patches of green. A corona of vibrant blue-ringed it’s edge where light hit the atmosphere.

Dalton breathed in wonder, the sight of humankind’s abandoned home always filled him with wistful thoughts and an aching desire to know how it would feel to stand on the ground and look up.

Ardley’s grumbling broke the spell and Dalton managed to tear his gaze away to survey the rest of the bay. The space was well lit by lines of light running up the walls and across the wide ceiling. It held many things, but there was a definite lack of his team members. They hadn’t reached the bay yet.

Dalton stepped back into the corridor and tried his comm-link again. Both Elba and Diagno remained frustratingly silent. He’d hoped they would have already been waiting there. All the easier to find and convince them their orders were spurious. Now he had to hope he could intercept them as he continued down through the station. Hope was not something Dalton liked to rest even the simplest of plans on.

“Stair or shaft?” He said to the open air.

“What?” Ardley questioned distractedly as he paused again to shift Bramley from one shoulder to the other.

Dalton ignored him and switched back to his comm.

>“Blist, did Elba and Diagno head for the terminal or the stair?”“Can’t help you,”“They took the access corridor which could lead to either. I couldn’t follow without leaving the scientists alone with Hornwood.”<

Dalton understood the decision she’d made, but it didn’t help him. If they’d taken the terminal and he chose the stair they would pass without ever coming close to each other. There was no option to stay and wait. Tiny would make his way through the mess level quickly, the open space leaving little chance for any unfortunates caught up there to hide.

“I think the terminal would be best,” Ardley put in behind him.

Dalton turned, distracted by his thoughts.

“I’m sure you do,” He said. “Which is why we’re heading for the next stair.”

Ardley groaned but offered no further argument. It was a tactical decision. Elba and Diagno had started the races through the station; a mixture of a defence against boredom and their natural competition with each other. If they had an opportunity to test themselves against one another he was sure they’d take it. It was a spiteful bonus to annoy the doctor. The man's constant grumbling was getting on Dalton's nerves and he didn’t mind admitting a small sliver of joy at the thought of prolonging the Doctor’s discomfort.

He set off again, passing a woman dressed in Deorum navy uniform who crouched against the wall of the corridor. She had her arms wrapped tightly around something, her eyes wide and staring at him in mute terror. As he walked by the bundle she clutched resolved into focus and a lump swelled in his throat. He tried to stop, tried to form the words that would warn her of what was coming and tell her how to get away.

The directive was clear; throbbing in his mind, dampening his emotions and driving every decision. It allowed no room for empathy, sympathy or the smallest diversion from his task. It would stop only when his objective was reached and then, without it’s affects, he would be left wide open for the guilt to flood through him.

He wished once, just this once he could fight it. He could save them. It would only take a few words, an outstretched hand and she would find her way to safety. Her and the baby she clung to.

The implant kicked his brain, shattering the thought and forcing him onward without a word.

Sickened by the future his imagination painted, hating himself, Dalton turned his eyes away from her and walked on by.