The lights of the colonist deck and the long window that followed the outside corridor of the crew deck were flickering, rapidly plunging their home vessel in and out of deep shadow against the nebulous backdrop.
“Thank heavens,” Abigail exhaled as she released her grip on the control level. Outside, a heavy mechanical arm briefly extended in front of the asteroid pod’s viewports before retracting again.
“I suppose that settles it, then,” Lamont said. “Those other ships could likely have left if they’d wanted to.” He craned his neck to try to glimpse the part of the tower they had just exited, but the asteroid pod was facing directly away, and all he could do was look down the surreal length of the tower, to where it became a copper thread that disappeared into the misty darkness of the strange moon. The sight was accompanied fittingly by a moment of vertigo as the gravity of the tower was replaced by that of the asteroid pod.
“What do you suppose happened to their occupants?” Rosemary asked, letting go of the newspaperman’s hand.
“Ye didn’a see anyone—or anything—else that might answer that question while ye were galavanting about in there?” Arthur asked.
The young medic shook her head. “It was eminently habitable,” She explained. “But apparently uninhabited. At least, the part we were in.”
“Cut the chatter,” Ed snapped, pulling the radio handset from its base. All eyes followed the direction of his thick glasses as he gazed fixedly at the slowly enlarging shape of Westward directly ahead. He handed the instrument to Abigail, extending its coiled wire.
“Asteroid pod to Westward,” Abigail said into the transmitter, pressing the button on its side with her thumb. “Please acknowledge.”
Ed twisted a knob on the console in front of him, raising the volume of the radio. The cockpit was filled with a static-muffled cacophony of clicks and semi-melodic drones that Lamont recognized as the alien messages that were being transmitted on every conceivable EM wavelength from the tower.
“Narrow the band,” Abigail directed.
“I’m working on it!” Ed fumed, the fingers of one hand rapidly fiddling with the radio controls while the other held tightly to the steering column. “Keep trying.”
As Abigail made another attempt, the object of their hails was coming more closely into view. As before, their orientation in regard to Westward was such that they could see its top and part of its slender starboard side. The lights of the colonist deck and the long window that followed the outside corridor of the crew deck were flickering, rapidly plunging their home vessel in and out of deep shadow against the nebulous backdrop.
“Westward, this is the asteroid pod. We’re on our way. Please acknowledge,” Abigail pleaded intently.
“What would you say that is?” Ed asked, pointing his finger toward the fore of the large ship. Emanating from the bottom was a glittering white cloud, distinct from the evanescent gasses of the nebula, that was slowly growing in a nearly perfect sphere to encompass Westward’s foremost portion. The chief technician’s voice was tight, but firmly under control.
“My guess is ice,” Abigail answered, her own voice rather tremulous. “Water vapor. Maybe oxygen.”
Ed nodded stiffly. “I agree.”
0165: A Call in the Dark
Only after reading the final chapter did I realize that meant Westward was venting atmosphere