The Retreat (The After Trilogy Book 1) Read Free

flooded their system.
    “Poacher poop,” Elara swore.
    Debris clean-up was a simple matter of approaching the debris and pulling it into the pod. Most of it was fleck-size, like dust, although some debris could be as large as a shoe. There had been a mass effort to clean Earth’s orbit before the launch of the orbitos in 2050. Debris the size of a pin could cause sizeable damage to the stations. Cracked windows had been a common occurrence in the first ten years of space life, though less common now—even with regular battles against the Critamal.
    Sometimes Romy wondered if the Critamal’s plan was to kill them by littering their orbit. Errant debris wasn’t a problem the alien species had to contend with, since their position was farther away from Earth’s atmosphere.
    Romy concentrated on operating the docking station as Elara came alongside the debris. Debris travelled at around 8.05 kilometres per second. They’d approach anything less than ten. The approach was a crucial step and not as easy as the other soldiers thought. If Elara and Romy tried to intercept the debris head on, it would simply tear through the craft, its force increased by the pod’s opposing force. When Thrym got down about Knot 27’s low status, she was quick to remind him of that fact.
    The pod still jerked violently when it came into contact with the debris.
    Elara held out her hand and Romy met it in a celebratory fist-pump.
    “Seven down,” Phobos’s voice came through their headsets.
    “You’re gonna need that head start,” Romy replied calmly.
    “Did you guys hear that? Romy just schmack-talked. We’re shaking in our space shoes.” Their snorting could be heard in the background.
    What did the twins usually say back to these kinds of things? Romy racked her brain for an insult. She was distracted by Elara mouthing words in her direction.
    “You . . . better . . . be!” Romy read Elara’s mouth, grinning in success.              
    Her friend just rolled her eyes in exasperation.
    Phobos snorted. “Need to work on those lip-reading skills, Ro.”
    The knot worked steadily for the next three hours, falling into silence, apart from the competitive tally each pod kept. Their games helped alleviate the tedium of the task.
    “What the hell are they doing?” Elara leaned forwards to look out the window.
    Romy turned and peered into empty space, jerking back as the other pod whirled across the window in front of her. Romy laughed as Phobos and Deimos waved, floating upside-down inside the spiralling craft.
    “Who’s driving?” Romy pushed her white-blonde hair behind one ear.
    “I couldn’t see Thrym at all.”
    “Poor Thrym.”
    Elara cackled. “You’d think he’d know better than to turn his back on those two by now.”
    The girls were first to make it back to Earth Dock. Romy dragged their bag of space junk to the weaponry chute where it would be reused as projectile missiles in the battlers. She listened to the bellowed shouts of Thrym as the boys’ pod docked. The pod entrance retracted and she saw that the twins stood in front of him looking suitably chastised—apart from the unconcealed grins on their faces. It was the eyes. How did they do it?
    “They tied me up with their socks!” Thrym shook his head, gaze flat.
    Romy did her best not to laugh at his exasperation. Elara didn’t hold back, and her laughter didn’t abate in the slightest under the full force of Thrym’s glare.
    He whirled on the twins, holding their socks high. “These. Are now mine.”
    The smirks on the twins’ faces disappeared. Romy whistled low. She didn’t blame them. You only received one pair of socks per month. Pulling down the top of his suit, Thrym shoved the twins’ socks inside before storming out of the docks.
    Deimos draped his arm around his twin’s shoulders. “Pho, we might have annoyed our brother,” he pondered.
    Romy swore Phobos’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears. Perhaps Thrym was overly