so were the researchers.
Her death was set in stone now, regardless. . . .
Screw it, Romy thought; the suit was coming off.
Taking a firm grip, she twisted one glove clockwise and shook it off, repeating the process on the other side. It was glorious to stretch her fingers. She groaned with the pleasure of it. A faint tickling sensation danced along the back of her hand. Romy yelped, swatting at the digits to dislodge whatever caused the feeling. The tickling faded, and she raised both hands to her face. Was it acid vapours?
She shrieked as the feeling started once again, worse than before! But there was nothing on her hands.
The answer came as soon as she let the panic go and glanced at the yellowed bush. The trees were swaying.
A breeze , she sighed. What an idiot. A small wind. Something they didn’t have in space. Of course, it was just a breeze. A hysterical giggle left her mouth, and she clamped down on the sound.
Every interlocked panel she removed took a huge weight off her shoulders—literally. But at the same time every action was harder here with the force of Earth’s gravity. Romy knew it was only a difference of 20 per cent compared to the orbitos, but it made everything more difficult, on top of being injured, panicked, and dehydrated.
She took a deep breath and searched for the calm she was engineered to possess. Her mission was to find her friends or die trying. Her chest rose and fell evenly once more.
Romy took off the whole spacesuit, including the boots, and sat in the orange ventilation garment. Leaning forwards, she ripped a hole in the end of the orange booty encasing her right foot and rolled the spandex up, staring at her very unpleasant-looking ankle. Her head already felt much better thanks to her nanotech. However, a few prods and attempts to move the foot told her the ankle was broken. A break was better than a ligament, but it would still take at least a week for her nanos to repair the damage. She needed a crutch and a splint.
A medical kit would be ideal to compress the joint. She eyed the battler.
Wait. What was she thinking? A week? A human couldn’t survive on Earth for a week. Romy laid back down to contemplate her next step, tired beyond belief.
At least she had a diaper on.
The sun was so bright she raised a hand to shield her eyes. Comets, it was hot. Sweat trickled down her temple just from lying there. She wondered where she was.
Romy rolled on her side and stood, careful to rest her whole weight on her left side. The trees had long limbs, which could form a makeshift crutch. She recalled that wood was a popular material from Old Earth. It always seemed odd to Romy, to cut down the very plants that gave you oxygen. Just another thing about Earth humans she’d never understand.
Hopping with some difficulty, she entered the tree line. One type of tree seemed more common than the rest. Its trunk was a greyish-white, the leaves a pale green. It made sense that the acidic water would cause changes in the plants, though not all seemed to be affected. Many showed patches of greenery amidst the pale yellow. She had no idea what it meant. Phobos was the one with the interest in agriculture and botany.
Tree limbs were strewn everywhere. And now that she was closer, Romy noticed a glorious smell—it was sharp and cleared her head. It came from the grey-white trees.
Romy reached down for a branch.
A sudden burst of movement from under her hand sent her reeling to the ground with a choked scream.
She pushed to stand on her good foot just in time to see a long, thin something sprinting off into the bush. No, it hadn’t sprinted—it slithered. A shudder vibrated through her. If that species had survived or evolved through global warming it was probably dangerous and very tough. And the slithering creature blended with the tree limbs as if it were one—she’d have to be careful.
In no time Romy had two crutches and a splint. With nothing to strap the splint to her leg
Her death was set in stone now, regardless. . . .
Screw it, Romy thought; the suit was coming off.
Taking a firm grip, she twisted one glove clockwise and shook it off, repeating the process on the other side. It was glorious to stretch her fingers. She groaned with the pleasure of it. A faint tickling sensation danced along the back of her hand. Romy yelped, swatting at the digits to dislodge whatever caused the feeling. The tickling faded, and she raised both hands to her face. Was it acid vapours?
She shrieked as the feeling started once again, worse than before! But there was nothing on her hands.
The answer came as soon as she let the panic go and glanced at the yellowed bush. The trees were swaying.
A breeze , she sighed. What an idiot. A small wind. Something they didn’t have in space. Of course, it was just a breeze. A hysterical giggle left her mouth, and she clamped down on the sound.
Every interlocked panel she removed took a huge weight off her shoulders—literally. But at the same time every action was harder here with the force of Earth’s gravity. Romy knew it was only a difference of 20 per cent compared to the orbitos, but it made everything more difficult, on top of being injured, panicked, and dehydrated.
She took a deep breath and searched for the calm she was engineered to possess. Her mission was to find her friends or die trying. Her chest rose and fell evenly once more.
Romy took off the whole spacesuit, including the boots, and sat in the orange ventilation garment. Leaning forwards, she ripped a hole in the end of the orange booty encasing her right foot and rolled the spandex up, staring at her very unpleasant-looking ankle. Her head already felt much better thanks to her nanotech. However, a few prods and attempts to move the foot told her the ankle was broken. A break was better than a ligament, but it would still take at least a week for her nanos to repair the damage. She needed a crutch and a splint.
A medical kit would be ideal to compress the joint. She eyed the battler.
Wait. What was she thinking? A week? A human couldn’t survive on Earth for a week. Romy laid back down to contemplate her next step, tired beyond belief.
At least she had a diaper on.
The sun was so bright she raised a hand to shield her eyes. Comets, it was hot. Sweat trickled down her temple just from lying there. She wondered where she was.
Romy rolled on her side and stood, careful to rest her whole weight on her left side. The trees had long limbs, which could form a makeshift crutch. She recalled that wood was a popular material from Old Earth. It always seemed odd to Romy, to cut down the very plants that gave you oxygen. Just another thing about Earth humans she’d never understand.
Hopping with some difficulty, she entered the tree line. One type of tree seemed more common than the rest. Its trunk was a greyish-white, the leaves a pale green. It made sense that the acidic water would cause changes in the plants, though not all seemed to be affected. Many showed patches of greenery amidst the pale yellow. She had no idea what it meant. Phobos was the one with the interest in agriculture and botany.
Tree limbs were strewn everywhere. And now that she was closer, Romy noticed a glorious smell—it was sharp and cleared her head. It came from the grey-white trees.
Romy reached down for a branch.
A sudden burst of movement from under her hand sent her reeling to the ground with a choked scream.
She pushed to stand on her good foot just in time to see a long, thin something sprinting off into the bush. No, it hadn’t sprinted—it slithered. A shudder vibrated through her. If that species had survived or evolved through global warming it was probably dangerous and very tough. And the slithering creature blended with the tree limbs as if it were one—she’d have to be careful.
In no time Romy had two crutches and a splint. With nothing to strap the splint to her leg
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