Mosaic - Jeri Taylor [90]
Even Justin, not the most social of people, had relaxed and enjoyed himself, and told a funny story about growing up on a mining colony. She couldn't remember his ever having been able to laugh about his childhood, and to her it was proof that he was truly becoming comfortable with them. Her heart had warmed as she saw her father and Admiral Finnegan's response to him: they liked him and respected him-but most important of all, they enjoyed him.
"On final approach to the Tau Ceti system, sir," she heard Justin say, jarring her out of her reverie.
"Stand by to execute the warp thrusters maneuver," replied her father. The Terra Nova was designed to function in a variety of battle conditions. One of the innovations of the ship was warp thrusters, which provided quick bursts of speed without engaging full warp engines, allowing the ship to maneuver quickly out of dangerous circumstances, change position, and return to the fray from an unexpected direction. Computer simulations had originally indicated intractable stresses to the hull from the maneuver, but Admiral Janeway had eventually solved this and a host of other design problems.
They spent an hour testing the new thrusters, which functioned perfectly. Kathryn enjoyed watching Justin at the controls, which he handled like an artist, seeming to become at one with the ship as he worked it through the complicated commands. Her love for him swelled in her like a living thing, enveloping her in a warmth of a sort she'd never known before. She had the giddy and irrational thought that she didn't deserve this much happiness. "Solar winds are kicking up, Lieutenant," her father said. "Let's give the port thrusters one more burst and then call it a day."
"Aye, sir. It's been a good first run."
What happened then occurred so quickly that, years later, she couldn't pinpoint exactly what the sequence of events was. All she could recall was that one moment she heard her father say "Wind shear-"and the next she was falling through space, slowly, drifting, vaguely aware of strange chilly breezes but not bothered by them. She felt as though she were in a hammock, swaying gently, floating toward the surface like a scrap of paper tossed on the winds but settling inevitably lower and lower. There was no sense of disaster, or even mishap. She felt mildly curious as to these puzzling circumstances, but not alarmed by them. The downward drift was so soothing that she almost wanted it to go on indefinitely. She sailed that way for a long time.
Then she heard a rush of air and her body absorbed a massive impact; pain screamed through her bones and she thought they must all be broken. She lay stunned for a period of time she couldn't determine, waiting for the pain to subside, waiting for her vision to clear-she couldn't see. That fact finally registered in her mind. Only darkness surrounded her, a black, agony-filled universe that began and ended with her body, racking her, obliterating her efforts to quell the suffering. She tried, without success, to use her pain-reduction techniques, then finally resigned herself to the hurt.
Time passed. She had no clear idea of how long, and knew she might have been passing in and out of consciousness. Eventually the pain ebbed and she began to feel tranquil again; a narcotizing effect seemed to have pervaded her brain-a natural secretion of endorphins, she thought instinctively-and she felt consciousness begin to slip away.
Something was in her mouth. And her nose. She couldn't breathe, she was suffocating, that was why she was drifting off... strange, that she could acknowledge that she was dying, recognize the cause, and yet be unable-even unwilling-to do anything about it. She coughed. Felt a sudden intake of cold substance, and then choked, gasping, sucking air but ingesting instead whatever that cold substance was, wishing she could return to the cocoon of unconsciousness once more. Dying, she realized, wasn't frightening; living was infinitely more difficult.
Without conscious