Outcasts of Gideon

The Empty : Part 1

Dawn watched as Dewey jumped to the top of the ladder leading to the pilot's cabin. In his hand was the unfilled med kit. He smashed it against the hatch. It shattered in his hand, making very little noise. She wondered if that's what he wanted to happen. He turned, scanning the room. "What are you looking for?" she asked.

"Anything to open this hatch."

She supposed that was as good an approach as any. They had to get to Bobby somehow, maybe before he engaged the ship's main engines. She tested her footing. As she stood, her head swam. It was the movement up. She hadn't left Pyroeis since landing here months prior. The thrust didn't affect her, but it felt like the ship was wobbling. She sat back down.

Her mind jumped to dispatch. The shuttle had departed without warning. Was anyone hurt? Should she notify anyone? She wondered if they were prepared for vacuum. Trying her feet again, she worked her way toward the entry corridor.

She hadn't made a single step into the corridor before finding her fears confirmed. The main hatch was still wide open. Cool air rushed in. Clouds fell away, marking their rapid assent in sharp visual detail.

She imagined several people preparing the ship at the time it departed. Had they held on? Had they fallen? She stuck her head out of the open hatch. No one was hanging there. Pulling her head in, she activated the controls. The hatch closed. Quiet stillness replaced the unsettled air. The sound of banging returned from the passenger cabin. Stepping into the hall, she shut the airlock and made her way toward the passenger cabin.

There she found Dewey still working on the hatch. In his hand was something metal. The best she could tell, it was an armrest he'd pulled off of one of the passenger seats. Grant was wandering around the room. He stopped at each seat, looking underneath. He came across something, inspected it then tossed it aside. She watched a seat cushion fly across the room. It reminded her that they could lose gravity at any moment. Reaching for the nearest empty seat, she strapped herself in.

Sitting gave her another moment to think. The turmoil around her was jarring. It revived what she had experienced with Bobby's alien object. In a way, Dewey's hammering was like the sounds she heard crashing around her in that haunting vision. It felt like she was seeing through herself from far away. The events seemed increasingly more detached and out of control. Everything else was a blur, the gray fog of sudden crisis.

Is that what Bobby saw? she wondered. If it was, it might explain his irrationality. His reaction was different from hers, but his exposure had been longer. Now he was childlike and confused. She understood the confusion. The insistence on going to Earth was still not clear. She lacked details, context. Everything he'd said reflected his obvious deterioration.

Grant and Dewey continued to hurl objects at the hatch. Their futile efforts were almost comical to her. Despite this, she was tense. She needed a resolution. That's when she realized that she always had a way to talk to Bobby. Lifting her comm bracelet, she punched in his number.

He answered. "Sorry, Dawn," he said without making himself visible, "I have to do this."

"I'm just hoping to understand why."

"You've seen them. They're in my dreams. I can't go to sleep without them hovering over me. I haven't slept in weeks."

"And they talk to you?"

"Talk? No. I mean, I guess they are talking, if that's what talking is for them. But I don't understand any of what they're saying. And the dream is the same. It's always the same. And it ends with me screaming."

Dewey turned to look Dawn's way. His eyes expanded to saucers. "Is that him?"

"Tell him to open that damn hatch," Grant yelled before she could respond.