Levi’s face ached with the effort of not smiling. “Is that really what your priority should be here?”
“It’s a date, Levi,” Asher said. “There should be candles.”
The vibration surged. Both of them going quiet at the same instant, the humor evaporating in the space between one breath and the next. Through the connecting corridor ahead — movement. The dish, the height, the metal fingertips trailing the wall with that light irregular sound. The apertures cycling.Tck tck tck.Levi’s sternum aching hard enough that he pressed his palm against it involuntarily, as if pressure from the outside could dampen the pressure from within.
The creature passed. The vibration faded. Levi’s palm stayed on his chest for a moment longer than necessary.
“The priorities list is you,” Asher said, as though the last forty seconds hadn’t happened, “then candles, and killing anything that interrupts.”
Junction C ended in a T-cross section, along a massive exterior window that nearly took Levi’s breath away as he looked out into the vast field of stars. It was beautiful. Even knowing it was just another part of the game, he just wanted to stare for a few seconds and appreciate it. He’d never get this close to the stars in real life.
“Focus, baby,” Asher said, his back to the view, already at the override panel that was recessed into the corridor wall. It was just a metal face with manual override controls, three toggle switches, and a dark screen until Levi pressed his palm against the activation plate and the screen came up green.
He pulled the walkie from his belt. “Tyler, are you in position?”
The static hissed, then cleared. “Junction A, we’re ready and waiting.” There was a pause. “For the record, if this works, I want it noted that I saved the ship.”
“Noted.” Levi rolled his eyes.
“And if it doesn’t work, I was never here.”
“Junction B. Ready.” The walkie flattened Jasper’s voice into something tinnier, more distant. “Keep the channel open, communication shouldn’t be delayed by clicking buttons.”
“I’m ready to divert power on your count, Levi,” Elliot’s voice crackled through the speaker.
The chatter went quiet. The corridor hummed around them — the ship’s systems cycling, the amber strips casting long shadows, Asher beside him, angled to cover both approaches atonce. Levi could feel his own pulse in his fingertips against the panel.It’s going to work. It has to.
“Closing junctions in three,” his voice came out even and not shaking, which was a minor miracle he didn’t have time to be grateful for, “Two. One. Close.”
He hit the sequence of buttons and toggles Jasper wrote on the back of his hand and held his breath. The electromagnetic seal engaged with a vibration that traveled through the metal panel, into his fingers, and up through his wrists. Through the radio, Tyler confirmed Junction A sealed. Jasper confirmed Junction B.
One open path left, leading to Cargo Bay Two.
Owen’s voice crackled through the handset, the excitement audible even through the bad signal, “Movement in the funnel corridor. They’re entering — two, three — they’re following the open path.”
And they waited.
“Six in the bay,” Owen said. “Seven.” His voice was doing the thing it did when the numbers were working — the fear dropping away, replaced by the excitement of someone watching a theory prove itself. “They’re following the signal gradient exactly as predicted, Levi. The heading deviation is less than two degrees.”
“Owen. Just count.”
Elliot’s voice cut in from Engineering, “Junction A is failing. I’ve got the seal integrity on my terminal and it’s not catching. Something damaged the frame.”
“Yeah…the frame’s bent, I’m trying to get it—” Tyler grunted, confirming what Jasper was already reading. Metal grinding against metal screamed through the walkie. “I’ll hold it.”
Levi’s knuckles went white on the panel. “Tyler, get out of there. Leave the junction and—”
“If I leave it, they come through. Everything that hasn’t reached the bay yet diverts through my junction and the funnel breaks.” He was breathing hard. “How many in the bay?”
“Eight. Two still in the funnel corridor, approaching. One unaccounted for — probably in the vents.” Owen said.
“So I hold this until those two get past me.” Tyler’s voice sounded steady again, the confidence returning now that he’d found a problem his body could solve. “Then you purge.”
“Tyler—” Levi began.
“I’m holding it, Mercer.”
“You can’t hold it indefinitely,” Jasper said. “The frame is bending further each second you push on that door, and without it sealing, those things just go right through.”
