I ran to the controls. Started making adjustments. The pressure in the secondary manifold responded, dropping back toward normal.
The primary didn’t.
I tried again. Different approach. Manual override on the flow regulators.
Nothing.
The pressure kept climbing. Red zones now. Thirty seconds to critical, maybe less.
I ran through every override Torek had taught me. Every failsafe, every emergency protocol, every trick he’d ever mentioned.
Nothing worked.
The primary manifold was on Kallum’s end. The station controls. I couldn’t reach it from here.
I couldn’t fix this.
“Kallum.” My voice cracked again. I let it. “I’m getting pressure warnings. Something’s building in the primary manifold. I need you back online. Now.”
The console beeped. Twenty seconds.
“Kallum, please. I can’t do this part alone.”
Fifteen seconds.
The numbers kept climbing.
And somewhere in the darkness, I hoped the ghost was listening.
KALLUM
Iran toward the station with her voice in my ears.
Not live. Recorded. Playing back in my memory while my legs burned and my side bled and the ridge stretched out forever in front of me.
I need you back online. Now.
Please. I can’t do this part alone.
She’d never said that before. Not once since I’d arrived. She’d told me she didn’t need my protection. She’d told me she could hold her own. She’d held a rifle on me the first time we met and never once looked like she needed anyone.
But she’d said please.
She’d said alone.
I ran faster.
The station doorwas still sealed. I slammed my palm against the scanner, leaving a bloody print. The lock cycled. I stumbled inside.
The console was squealing.
Warning lights everywhere. Pressure readings in the red. A prompt flashing in the center of the screen:
OVERRIDE REQUIRED. ENTER AUTHORIZATION PHRASE.
I activated the comm. “Anhara.”
“Kallum.” Her voice cracked with relief. “Thank god. The primary manifold, it’s spiking, I can’t reach it from here.”
