The Last Hour of Gann by R. Lee Smith

telling her that she should report to the recreational area of her housing unit as soon as she was released by a member of the crew. The disembarking stations had been alerted and someone would be here shortly to release her. Did she want directions to the recreational area now?
    “No,” croaked Amber. She got her arm up, groping clumsily at the underside of the Sleeper’s lid until she hit the medico alert switch. “Hello?” she said and coughed. The air coming in through the vents suddenly seemed smokier. And hotter. “Hello? This is Amber Bierce in room…um… three. In the women’s dorms. Mod A. Or WA, I guess. I’m okay, but there’s something wrong with my Sleeper. I can smell…smoke…hello?”
    No answer. If she held her breath to listen, she could hear the faint hum of empty air in the speakers, so they were probably working. But no one was answering. Of course, they might all be away from the alert station, if every screaming person Amber could hear had their own medico dispatch, but Amber really didn’t think so. There weren’t enough medicos on the ship to answer all those screamers.
    “Hello?” Amber pushed the switch again, and again, and then really leaned her thumb on it and kept it there, but no one buzzed through and told her to get off and quit being a bitch. No one told her she was on the list of panicky people to deal with and she’d be charged a fee or even arrested for making a nuisance of herself on her first day awake. No one told her anything. Because no one was there.
    “Bullshit,” said Amber, badly frightened. But she stopped playing with the alert switch at once and started hunting for the latch.
    It opened without incident, dispersing the fear that she would be burnt to death right here in the tube, but it didn’t go far. She could still be burnt to death in this room. She rolled out and onto her feet, but kept her hands on the Sleeper to help keep her balance until her head was together. The floor was definitely slanted, but not as much as she’d thought inside the tube. Maybe it was a little steeper than the average incline on, say, a wheelchair access ramp, but not much more. She could walk just fine.
    Amber let go of the Sleeper and moved to the wall, unlocking her duffel bag from its restraints without any thought in her head at all except for how much she needed to hurry up and get out. Getting her luggage was Step Two of that process, right after exiting the tube and right before opening the door, so she did it. She didn’t think she was in shock. She knew she was scared, but she thought she was handling it rather well, all things considered.
    “Please remain in your room until you are released by a crewman. Failure to remain in your room may result in loss of privileges or reduction of earnings.”
    “Fucking bill me,” said Amber and opened her door.
    The smoke came sweeping in, eddying around her in gusts and streams, sometimes thick enough to choke, but not often. The wind was blowing the other way. The wind…
    Amber looked out through her open doorway at what should be the central hall of Mod A and saw an ugly overcast sky instead. The hallway broke open just a few meters outside her door, leaving nothing but a handful of odd-numbered rooms before those too were just…gone. Out of the entire mod, there were only five doors—
    nicci
    Amber lunged for her sister’s door, catching at its frame to anchor her on the metal ledge that used to be a hallway. Nicci’s door opened as easily as her own had done. Nicci’s Sleeper was still shut. Nicci was on her side, both hands pressed to her face, crying. She screamed when Amber opened the Sleeper, slapping and kicking and trying to pull the lid shut again until Amber got her by the arms and gave her a shake.
    “I’m having a nightmare,” sobbed Nicci, still struggling. Then her dazed eyes finally seemed to focus. She shrank back against the wall of her Sleeper, then let out a startling cawing cry and