Living Hell by Catherine Jinks Read Free Book Online Page A

cubicle, I discovered that my portable chair was no longer considered safe. Instead, Haido had yanked open a series of emergency hatches in the floor, out of which had sprung five extra chairs. One of these was given to me. It didn’t automatically adapt itself to my contours, like the other seats in the compartment, but it was fitted with straps and buckles, and wouldn’t slide around if we faced a bumpy ride.
    Unfortunately, my new seat was nowhere near an Array. So I had to sit doing nothing, while all around me the Bridge buzzed with activity.
    Estimated time of impact was in exactly one hour. Before then, every loose article had to be packed away or strapped down. Every emergency procedure had to be checked and re-checked. Every person on board had to report to his or her emergency station, wherever that might be.
    Within minutes, the Bridge was flooded with new arrivals. Before they appeared, however, Merrit left. She passed me on her way out, but she couldn’t stop. She didn’t have time.
    Our eyes met, and then she was gone.
    Rarely had I ever heard the Public Address System being used. I gasped at the sound of that cool, female voice:
    ‘ Attention. This is a red alert. Please lock down and brace. All crew stand by for impact .’
    I felt as if CAIP itself was speaking to me.
    My mother arrived with Sloan and Sadira. The moment I saw them, I immediately felt better – and then wondered if the happy gas might be to blame. Could it have kicked in already? When Sloan seated himself next to me, on one of the fold-out chairs, I asked him for his opinion.
    ‘It’s possible,’ he said with a shrug.
    ‘I don’t feel as scared as I thought I would. Do you?’
    Sloan smiled, his inky gaze roaming the compartment.
    ‘Nothing to be scared of,’ he replied.
    ‘I called Dygall. And Yestin. To make sure they were all right.’
    ‘Well done.’
    ‘Caromy, too. She was really calm.’
    A grunt.
    ‘Merrit’s gone to Technical Fault Protection. She says we’re going to graze the edge of this thing.’ Sloan’s smile broadened until I could actually see his teeth. ‘What is it?’ I demanded. ‘What’s so funny?’
    ‘I think the happy gas might have kicked in,’ he murmured.
    ‘Huh?’
    ‘You don’t usually talk this much.’
    That shut me up. I watched my mother circle the compartment, distributing pills. They were supposed to counteract the effects of gravity reduction: the fluid loss, the nausea, the congested sinuses. She was also telling everyone to seal their pressure suits. As she made each stop, I tried to distract myself by putting names to the faces around me. Conal, the brusque little Navvy with the big nose and fluffy hair, played some kind of instrument. A viola, was it? He played in a quartet with Sloan’s supervisor, Ottilie, from BioLab. Landry was a champion basketball player, and had been part of the team that discovered the graviton, back on Earth. Lais had been granted breeding privileges for the following year. But there were others about whom I knew nothing.
    Counting heads, I realised that there were twenty-one of us on the Bridge. Would I be dying with these twenty other people?
    My response to this question was so calm that I knew at once: the happy gas must have kicked in.
    ‘All right, boys, I want you to take these,’ Mum announced, dropping a tiny pill into my hand, and another into Sloan’s. ‘Then I want those glove assemblies on, and I’ll tell you when to seal up.’
    ‘I didn’t call Haemon.’
    ‘What’s that, honey?’
    ‘I should have called Haemon,’ I fretted. ‘Haemon gets so worried about things, but he won’t ask questions. And Inaret. Inaret likes me.’
    Mum patted my cheek. ‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘It’ll be all right.’
    ‘Where are you sitting?’
    ‘Here. Right here, beside you.’ Mum turned to Sloan.
    ‘Sloan, would you mind moving down one? Tuddor wants to sit in that seat.’
    Sloan looked at her for a moment. ‘Sure,’ he