A Bug's Life
“Asteroid shower!” Roy’s voice came over the
intercom. “Crew to stations and strap in!”
    When you’re flying in deep space, there are
few things that scare you more than being caught in an asteroid
shower. Because even a small rock can rip a hole in your hull, and
any hole that isn’t immediately patched has the potential to
destroy the spaceship and all the life within it.
    Our stations during an asteroid shower were
different than for any other type of flying experience. Sure, Roy
was a fantastic pilot. And the chances of him avoiding most of the
rocks were high. But they weren’t a hundred percent. We
scrambled.
    Once in position, we were all standing up,
really tethered more than strapped in, each against a padded
interior wall -- concussions tended to slow a being down, and if an
asteroid breached, slow was not the best option. But we controlled
how far our tethers could release. Until necessary, “not at all”
was the operative choice. Everyone also had a patch kit in hand and
ready to go.
    “Intercom is open. Crew report, please,”
Doven, our Quillian co-pilot and navigator said. “In station
order.”
    “Engineering strapped,” Willy shared. “No
damage at this time. Engines running fine. Kyle’s with me.” Willy
was our ship’s engineer. Kyle was Roy’s younger brother and
basically making it a point to learn every station on the crew,
just in case. And in cases such as this, Roy always wanted two in
Engineering anyway.
    “Medical strapped, all’s well here,” Dr.
Wufren said.
    “Quarters strapped,” I said. “Ciarissa,
Bullfrog and I are in, doors are open, no signs of damage.” Our
living quarters required the most beings to watch them, as we had a
crew of nine and had ten rooms, total. Two of them weren’t used
currently, because Roy and I slept together. However, ten rooms,
two group bathrooms, and a connecting hallway took more than one
being to watch. If Roy hadn’t wanted two in Engineering, we’d have
definitely wanted Kyle with us up in Quarters.
    “General Areas strapped,” Tresia said.
Normally, we’d want another crew member in General Areas as well,
but Tresia was an Arachnidan. Eight-limbed beings had an advantage
when it came to patching holes quickly, and Tresia was extremely
quick. She said being our galley chef made her fast, but it
probably had more to do with the speed and agility exercises she
performed daily.
    Which was a good thing, because
even though Roy had the Hummingbird whirling like a dervish, we still took damage. We
all heard the pingggg sound. I couldn’t speak for the others, but my whole body
tensed. Then there were more pinggggs .
    “Got it!” Tresia called. Cheerfully. I hadn’t
asked her, but I always felt that Tresia actually enjoyed the
danger asteroid showers presented.
    “There were at least five hits,” Roy said,
voice tight.
    “Six,” Tresia corrected. “All in the same
area. Patching them all at once was easier than making breakfast,
Roy. And before you ask, I’m ready with six more patch
kits.”
    “Good. We’re not through this yet.”
    Everyone managed to refrain from
stating that we knew we were still in danger. The Hummingbird spinning and
flipping was sort of a clue. Strapped or not, from the sounds most
of us were making, we were all really testing out the padding at
our stations. Tresia, however, was humming. Yeah, she really loved
these moments. Clearly Roy wasn’t letting her see enough
action.
    More pinggggs . Not good. Roy was usually
far better at avoiding hits than this. “Got them!” Tresia
called.
    “Engineering took one hit,” Kyle said. “It’s
patched. You gonna ever get us out of this, big bro?”
    “It’s a gigantic shower,” Doven replied, voice
tenser than Roy’s had been. “I see no end to it.”
    “Then how did we get into it in the first
place, if it’s that big?” Bullfrog asked as we took another hit
that he leapfrogged to and patched. Since he was a Polliwog, he
really did leap.

Similar Books

The Amazing Harvey

Don Passman

Entwined

Lynda La Plante

Curtain Up

Lisa Fiedler

The Waiting Time

Gerald Seymour

The White Father

Julian Mitchell

Eastern Passage

Farley Mowat

On Folly Beach

Karen White