expectation.
***
“ETA—one minute, Admiral,” announced Steven’s personal pilot, Robertson.
Standing at the forward window, Steven turned his attention to the crystalline webs that enshrouded Earth’s continents below. Though the webs were now home to his enemy, he was always in awe of their serene beauty and the Siren-like song that their electrical currents resonated. By day, the sparkling blue-white, swirling glow was like seeing into the mind of God. By night, the webs were an ever-shifting kaleidoscope of pastel colors that captured the heart.
Steven felt the subtle shift of his weight as the Dolphin transport slowed to a stop.
“Groundside temperature is 97 degrees. Radiation is within acceptable limits. With your permission?” asked Robbie.
Steven nodded.
“Initiating resonator.” From the underside of the Dolphin a hatch door opened, and a small dish turret lowered, swiveling into position. Visually, the air around the dish warbled and grew cloudy. Frenzied water molecules heated-up in reaction to the high frequency tones emitted by the resonator. The tones were inaudible to the crew, but far below, the canopy of webbing dissolved into a shower of falling pixie dust.
The ship’s holo-display zoomed in on the beginnings of a small hole that was growing quickly in size with each passing second. “Launch the beacon, Robbie.”
“Aye, sir. Launching beacon.” With the press of a button on the overhead control panel, the ship’s cannon fired off a small liquid-silver ball. A small laser beam, attached to the transport’s underside, painted the ground where the tiny ball would land. With pinpoint accuracy, the nanotech shifted the ball’s shape, adjusting the beacon’s internal gyroscope so it would hit the target far below.
“Victor, be ready. I have a feeling we’re going to need you.”
The doc nodded.
Steven turned to the team. “All right eggs and sperm. The storm front is less than forty minutes out. So this recon has got to be fast.” Steven’s gaze shifted to each of his team members in turn, waiting for the nod that their armor’s diagnostic system had cleared them for the drop.
While awaiting confirmation from Robbie that the beacon had landed, Steven’s chest suddenly seized. He had no chance to react, to assimilate what was happening to him. In the blink of an eye, a soul crushing feeling of longing and loneliness gripped him, incapacitating him.
With each passing second the surge of longing grew stronger, manifesting itself in each strained beat of his heart.
An emotion he had never known before overtook him—fear. The fear he felt wrested control from him, and like an abstract painting, his mind lost cohesion and focus. The attack came from somewhere far beyond his understanding driving the immense strength of the man that he was inside away.
Unable to find even the smallest bit of reality to which he could cling, his anxiety drove him into a pit of darkness—and as the darkness turned its wrath upon him, he fell victim to a full-fledged panic attack.
In a cold sweat and unable to give voice, his legs began shaking uncontrollably beneath him. His knees buckled. Instinctively, his hand reached out for the back of Robertson’s chair to steady himself, but the off-balance fall swung him around and slammed him hard into the bulkhead.
With wild, maniacal eyes, he searched for something, anything of familiarity. The bright flashing lights on the transport’s control panels caught his attention. Somewhere deep inside he knew they held meaning, but in his panicked state they only added to his confusion as they shouted meaningless gibberish.
Robertson, startled by the sudden tug on his chair and the heavy clang of armor hitting the deck behind him, turned and caught a glimpse of the madness in his commander’s eyes. “Paris, check on the admiral! Something’s wrong!”
A small alarm on Steven’s forearm LED chirped, alerting him to his irregular vitals.
His
***
“ETA—one minute, Admiral,” announced Steven’s personal pilot, Robertson.
Standing at the forward window, Steven turned his attention to the crystalline webs that enshrouded Earth’s continents below. Though the webs were now home to his enemy, he was always in awe of their serene beauty and the Siren-like song that their electrical currents resonated. By day, the sparkling blue-white, swirling glow was like seeing into the mind of God. By night, the webs were an ever-shifting kaleidoscope of pastel colors that captured the heart.
Steven felt the subtle shift of his weight as the Dolphin transport slowed to a stop.
“Groundside temperature is 97 degrees. Radiation is within acceptable limits. With your permission?” asked Robbie.
Steven nodded.
“Initiating resonator.” From the underside of the Dolphin a hatch door opened, and a small dish turret lowered, swiveling into position. Visually, the air around the dish warbled and grew cloudy. Frenzied water molecules heated-up in reaction to the high frequency tones emitted by the resonator. The tones were inaudible to the crew, but far below, the canopy of webbing dissolved into a shower of falling pixie dust.
The ship’s holo-display zoomed in on the beginnings of a small hole that was growing quickly in size with each passing second. “Launch the beacon, Robbie.”
“Aye, sir. Launching beacon.” With the press of a button on the overhead control panel, the ship’s cannon fired off a small liquid-silver ball. A small laser beam, attached to the transport’s underside, painted the ground where the tiny ball would land. With pinpoint accuracy, the nanotech shifted the ball’s shape, adjusting the beacon’s internal gyroscope so it would hit the target far below.
“Victor, be ready. I have a feeling we’re going to need you.”
The doc nodded.
Steven turned to the team. “All right eggs and sperm. The storm front is less than forty minutes out. So this recon has got to be fast.” Steven’s gaze shifted to each of his team members in turn, waiting for the nod that their armor’s diagnostic system had cleared them for the drop.
While awaiting confirmation from Robbie that the beacon had landed, Steven’s chest suddenly seized. He had no chance to react, to assimilate what was happening to him. In the blink of an eye, a soul crushing feeling of longing and loneliness gripped him, incapacitating him.
With each passing second the surge of longing grew stronger, manifesting itself in each strained beat of his heart.
An emotion he had never known before overtook him—fear. The fear he felt wrested control from him, and like an abstract painting, his mind lost cohesion and focus. The attack came from somewhere far beyond his understanding driving the immense strength of the man that he was inside away.
Unable to find even the smallest bit of reality to which he could cling, his anxiety drove him into a pit of darkness—and as the darkness turned its wrath upon him, he fell victim to a full-fledged panic attack.
In a cold sweat and unable to give voice, his legs began shaking uncontrollably beneath him. His knees buckled. Instinctively, his hand reached out for the back of Robertson’s chair to steady himself, but the off-balance fall swung him around and slammed him hard into the bulkhead.
With wild, maniacal eyes, he searched for something, anything of familiarity. The bright flashing lights on the transport’s control panels caught his attention. Somewhere deep inside he knew they held meaning, but in his panicked state they only added to his confusion as they shouted meaningless gibberish.
Robertson, startled by the sudden tug on his chair and the heavy clang of armor hitting the deck behind him, turned and caught a glimpse of the madness in his commander’s eyes. “Paris, check on the admiral! Something’s wrong!”
A small alarm on Steven’s forearm LED chirped, alerting him to his irregular vitals.
His
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