2_1_5_0_ _ A_D_
Cislunar space
WEE OOH. WEE OOH.
"Oops! Sorry, Doc," Quibilah squeaked, making sure to slam the heavy door properly this time on her way out.
An apologetic Dr. Fabio with extremely pressed khaki pants waved from inside the brightly lit clinic, mouthing, "Be more careful next time", as the door seal prevented her from hearing through the thick Jeulgeon glass.
Quibilah lightly smacked her forehead after muttering a quick "Thanks". She would have to be more cautious in the future because not everyone behaved like Dr. Fabio.
The hours of operations for the Space Academy's clinic were strictly from 0600-1200 on Saturdays. She was so thankful that it had been her Biology professor, as well as part-time clinician, who gave up a few hours of his early morning sleep to check her sore throat.
If it had been Dr. Zhao, the head clinician...actually, it was better not to come to think of that sourpuss at all.
Placing her antique headphones on, she warily glanced around the barren hallway. Instantly, she recognized the yellow handrails on either side as precautionary measures for new cadets to use only in emergencies should the automatic airlock that prevented them from flying out into airspace disengage, but simply moved on after a quick scan to reassure they were still there. As soon as she passed 20 clicks (of her boot) away from the clinic, the white lights on the ceiling flickered off.
2140's Motion-sensor technology at its best, no doubt.
Peering through the bubble-shaped glass tunnel that connected the administrative side of the academy to the cadet area, she made sure to only shuffle around when the coast seemed clear.
That was the good thing about an early Saturday morning checkup- almost nobody was up at 0600.
As the melody to Rocketman picked up, she picked up her pace from a leisurely stroll to quick-time upon recalling that her room was due for a SAMI this weekend.
Major Gideon, a hardheaded MTI, oversaw SET and those guys meant business when it came to marking demerits. Even a single speck of dust on her cabinets meant loss of spacewalk privileges, so she had less than 30 minutes to wake up Cadet Louise. However, that was the easy part, the hard part was convince her roommate to throw away the contraband hidden in her locker.
Unfortunately, by the time she made it to the dormitory wing, quite a few people were already up. Consequently, they were in her way of making it on time. Regrettably taking off her 2050's vintage headphones, almost a century old by this point, and started, "Umm, excuse me, Nelson. I got to...scoot around you real quick..."
"Wait, just a second," Cadet Nelson snapped, stopping her with a hand upheld as he turned to the other person in the hallway, Cadet Liam Clarke. Then, he asked, "Now, what were you saying again?"
Sweat perforating his upper brow, Clarke replied tensely while nervously folding his hands, "I know there's only, what, maybe like an hour before breakfast, but could you please...please help a brother out?"
Nelson sighed, continuing to tinker with the robot in his hand even while the door to his dorm room remained wide open. "Why didn't you get the assembly done in class on Friday like the rest of us, Clarke?"
"I mean I tried...But you know with how my partner bailed on me, and I being the programming guy of our group...well I don't have that much expertise in fixing robot parts that've come apart." Clarke mumbled, with each word in the last phrase becoming softer than the last.
YOU ARE READING
Aphelion
Science Fiction"It was all a dream come true...before it turned into a nightmare." In the near future, Quibilah is part of a group of students tasked with the mission to save the world, one school day at a time. The only difference between her and other students i...
