Imposition Read Free Page B

“You should get back into training again, we're going to need to be fit for the next detail."
    Genham fidgeted in his chair and straightened up, tugging his white t-shirt straight across his chest. “Look, I just don't care about it as much as you do. I'll start when we're nearly there or something."
    Therse sat up, suddenly full of seriousness. “No, you need to start now. The atmosphere's going to be lower in oxygen than we're used to. I've already asked the ship to decrease the oxygen concentration of our atmosphere accordingly so we can get accustomed to it."
    "When the fuck were you going to tell me?” Genham said, affronted.
    "Now, I guess.” Therse shrugged as he licked the last of the tomato juice from his fingers.
    "You can't make decisions that affect me without my consent."
    "Don't be a jackass,” Therse told him, fixing his gaze. “You know it makes sense."
    " I'm the jackass? I'm not the one making decisions without telling anybody when we're the same damn rank. Anything else you want to tell me?” Genham glared at him. “There is, isn't there?"
    Therse met his eye guiltily. “The planet's gravity is higher, too,” he muttered, picking up his mug and blowing on its contents.
    "Oh great,” Genham said, waving his arms wide. “Thanks for the notification, sir ."
    Therse snorted into his coffee, and the facade collapsed. Genham folded his arms and tipped his head to the side, jutting out his chin in annoyance. “Not a damn thing's been changed, has it?"
    "Nope,” Therse said, swallowing and trying not to let victory show on his features. “Conditions on the next planet are almost exactly what we're already accustomed to."
    Genham shot him a look like he was a total jerk, but conceded that had been well-played. He rose from his chair and turned towards one set of large double doors to the mess, glancing over his shoulder and grinning as he went, Therse having reminded him that they were equally matched.
    "If you need me for anything, I'll be in the sim bay,” he said.
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2: VISITING HOURS
    He was running. Pounding through the dark jungle, slipping on the dense vegetation beneath his boots, grabbing at anything his hands could reach. The rain soaked him to his skin, torrential and endless, turning the ground into a twisted mass of black, slicked mud. He caught his foot on a root, and it brought him crashing down, sprawling over and over in the undergrowth. The mud stuck to him like engine lubricant, dragging on him, holding him as he reached desperately for safety.
    He realized in his panicked struggle that the mud was alive; swarming creatures writhing around him, crawling across his body, pushing him under. He opened his mouth to scream, and the mud rushed inside.
    Therse awoke with a start, lurching forward, hand immediately to his mouth. But there was no mud. No jungle, no rain, no mud-creatures. Only the empty room and the bed, sheets tangled around his legs. He was still breathing heavily from the shock of it, putting a hand against his bare chest to feel his heart racing.
    He swung his legs off the bed and shielded his eyes when the room lights came on automatically, reminding himself to change the lighting program later. He sat for a moment until the sweating and the shakes died down.
    He'd dreamed about it for the second night in a row.
    Kicking the sheets off, he got up, pulled on his clothes, and went for a run, just like he always did.
    * * * *
    "Did you miss me this morning?"
    Therse had been deep in thought and started a little at the sound of Gen's voice in the quiet mess hall. It brought him back to reality. He slid his cup under the dispenser and selected coffee, wondering how long he'd been standing there before Gen's interruption.
    The recurring nightmare wasn't the only thing on his mind. Therse had also been thinking about the little pocket-screen stowed in his bedside drawer. He'd received a letter that morning—an important letter that could change