CRACKED: An Anthology of Eggsellent Chicken Stories by J. Posthumus (read after txt) 📕

was some oxidation on the relief valve. It’ll need to be serviced soon, but that shouldn’t interfere with operation.”

The corners of Aashi’s mouth turned down. “John said an error code buzzed in the control room.”

“Want me to come?”

She shook her head. “You need to get everything ready.”

Sallie peered down the hall toward his project module then checked his wrist monitor. “I have time.” He pushed down on the hatch of her exo until the smart suit sealed.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, patting his forearm. “Don’t be weird about it, Sallie. It’s my job. Let me do it.”

She was right. He didn’t have to help her. She wasn’t his, but… He might have done the same for Cynthia. His mouth twisted, but probably not, and he wouldn’t have offered for John. Romantic interests complicated missions. The mission handbook hadn’t taken into account his internal programming.

“You win,” he said.

“Get used to it.” She lowered her helmet over her head. “I’ll be back in minute.”

“Be careful.”

Aashi gave him two thumbs up and twisted the helmet a half-turn to the left. The exo hissed as it pressurized. She stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind her.

Sallie climbed out of the hatch in the back of the exo. It was a bit like entering and exiting a body-shaped mini-ship. It made it fast to get on, though. The helmet took the longest. He hung the exo on the hook inside the locker marked with his name and placed his helmet on the shelf and headed toward the heart of the colony, ignoring the misgivings that turned his stomach.

Crewmembers milled about Harmony’s common rooms. Radio waves were limited to mission communication between Harmony and Mission Control. Digital correspondence came with the monthly shipments but wasn’t parceled out until supplies had been moved indoors. They didn’t have to say anything. They all knew. Everyone was antsy to get their monthly downloads.

He jogged down the hallway toward his ag module. He stopped at the edge. The compost had been freshly stirred. Even the waterer and feeder in the mobile chicken coop had been filled. Everything was ready.

Sneaky Aashi.

Sallie spun and jogged toward her greenhouse. Maybe he could find something to do in there. As he passed the control room, John appeared, his face ashen as he ran toward the exit.

“What happened?” Sallie froze. He couldn’t help it. There was only one crewman outside.

“It’s Aashi.” John stepped into his suit, pulling it up over his torso. “Her smart suit threw an error code. Something happened at the tank.”

Sallie sucked at the air as though strangled by giant hands. “Is this a prank?”

Please be a joke. Playful, sweet Aashi.

John grimaced. “No joke here, Sallie. Come on.”

In seeming slow motion, Sallie dove toward his exo and stepped into it. He yanked it up over him. Spots swam in his vision. Bile burned at the back of his throat. Someone, he couldn’t be certain who, pressed the hatch closed long enough for the smart suit to seal.

Then he noticed the silence. Nobody moved. It was if they were all holding their breaths. Accidents meant death. So far, they hadn’t lost anyone. Aashi might be the first casualty.

Aashi. His brown-eyed girl.

And then Cynthia materialized beside him, patting his exo. “Prep the medbed,” she bellowed. Her words sent everyone scrambling.

As one, the trio lowered the helmets over their heads, twisted them into place, and stepped into the airlock.

The wind whipped around them as they stepped onto the Martian surface. John peeled away from the group, no doubt grabbing the Rover. It would make quick work of the distance between Harmony and the main H2O collection tank.

“Do you see anything?” Cynthia asked.

“Not yet.” The tank was too far away to see, and he couldn’t make out any prone figures on the ground. At the thought, Sallie started jogging. He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stand there and do nothing. He heard the Rover peel out and the low hum of the electric engine started his way, the sound broadcast from John through the open comm link.

The frequency slowed. John must be letting Cynthia inside.

But Sallie didn’t stop running. Aashi. He couldn’t. Another peel out and the low hum started toward him again.

“Get in,” John said, throwing a wave of dust over Sallie as he slammed on the brakes just ahead of him. The passenger door swung open.

Without slowing, Sallie jumped into the passenger seat. Cynthia had tucked herself in the backseat. John didn’t wait for Sallie to get the door closed. He flooded the electric engine with all the energy he could and it lurched forward, throwing them all against the seat.

A few minutes later, they could make out the tanks through the haze. Sallie squinted. “There she is.” She had been thrown over the four-wheeler and now lay across the seat, face up, her legs and arms contorted and tangled together with the handlebars.

About twenty feet from the end of the tank, they stopped.

“What are you doing?” Sallie fumbled with the door until John’s hand clamped down on his shoulder. “We have to get to her.” Sallie’s voice cracked.

John said, “I don’t know what the status of the collection tank is, Sal. When her smart suit sent the error warning, the tank dropped off the radar. There could be a cloud of hydrogen or oxygen. I don’t want to accidentally blow her to Phobos or Deimos. Either one.”

“We have to assess the situation so we don’t do any more damage to Aashi or our water tanks,” Cynthia added. “The transport has to be able to leave so it can come back.” She leaned forward, ducking between the two seats and twisting until she stared into Sallie’s eyes, their face shields as close together as they could get. “Don’t make me leave you in the car.” The commander was deadly serious.

Sallie took a deep breath. “You’re right.” He pushed his emotions to the side, imagining a void. He shouldn’t have lost his cool. They had training after training like that.

He stepped