Bullets and power-cells
Niki had woken up late by her standards. The clock reading 1300 as she turned over in her bed to spy the device. It was still working hours for most, and she could feel more than hear the ongoing efforts to repair the damage that had been done to the sphere her office was located in. The engineering sphere was not terrifically different then a standard residential sphere, save for the propensity of technically minded folk that had dominated the majority of its habitable space.
It was a mix of fields of engineers. Drafters for construction, technology, ship design, all of it. There were even a few gathering places for the lot of the groups to mingle and use each other to bounce ideas back and forth or even collaborate on some projects.
More than a few times groups had come together and inadvertently solved a seemingly large problem for another by offering a different perspective. It was an atmosphere of can do attitudes that now weighed heavily with grim realization of how easily things could change in the spheres.
She stopped ruminating on the happy thoughts as they came closer to the pervasive nature of the most recent events. Swinging her legs over first, she managed to sit upright without feeling sick to her stomach. Her eyes were haunted, dark rings from sleepless nights and the skin around them drawn from lack of appetite.
A weight pressed down on her, an invisible thing that her own mind had pushed onto her. The weight tied to the prototype mask that sat just across the room on the workbench. It shone in the overhead lights, as she looked to it after rubbing her eyes. The light casting a gleam across the front of it as she dropped her gaze to the floor.
Too late.
Her mind echoed the words. Had reminded her that the project had been too late to possibly save lives. Reminded her that she had spent too much time trying to solve a cost issue when it could have been pushed forward and maybe, just maybe, have saved lives.
Her eyes stung at the thought. A hand coming up to wipe at the tears forming. Too late, the words repeated as she bit her lip to stave off the fit of regret threatening to take her. She leaned forward, nearly falling forward off the bed as she dangerously teetered back and forth for a brief second. Rocking back and forcing herself to sit up while the tears rolled.
She choked on a breath, angling her face to the ceiling and making herself calm down. The backs of her hands were still wet as she wiped her face once more. Repeated counts to ten had her finally reining in the feelings.
Blinking away the last touches of the tears, her thumb rubbed her index finger harshly while she looked at the mask once more with a forced thought. It could save lives now though. Hopefully.
She pushed herself off the bed, trudging to the shower and getting cleaned up for the day. Teeth brushed and hair unbraided, she ran a brush through it until it was glossy and soft. The soft curls at the end of her hair never truly being brushed out as she dressed in a loose, long sweater for around the house. She began to type up specifications on the respirator, and after about ten minutes found herself staring at the device without typing.
Twisting in her chair, she pulled up a display, watching for a few minutes at her hands work over the item before her eyes drifted to the storage system to the side and spied the pip forever marked with a red exclamation mark.
She didn’t have to see the details to elicit her gorge to rise. Nearly tumbling out of the chair with her legs strangely set, her frantic steps to the bathroom punctuated by the toilet seat lid slamming open and having her heaving up nothing.
Her eyes burned, throat burned, and muscles burned. Hungry, tired, angry, scared. A swirl of sensations and emotions that had no outlet. The therapist she had been speaking to about the situation suggested a specialist. She had not scheduled with one yet, and was questioning the use of it.
Too late.
Her mind was beating her down, arms on the rim, holding herself up with all she had as what felt like the world settled on her shoulders. She was tired, drained, and hurting. She pulled the handle, the cold swirl not helping her feel better as she slumped against the side of the tub. She sat there for a time, staring into nothing on the ceiling before standing and cleaning up at the sink.
Wiping her face, she came out of the bathroom, hand tracing the edge of the table and coming to a stop staring at the prototype breather. Guilt was a strange thing. She hadn’t a hand in the incident that had caused her sleepless nights. But she felt it no less for this little thing not being ready to help. Images cropped up in her mind as she thought of how it could have been different.
How she should have quit picking at the details, and pressed it into production.
Her eyes closed, taking a deep breath before moving to her closet and retrieving the sealing EVA suit the shipyard workers had given her for testing the mask. Removing the sweater, she slid into the strange suit, pulling her hair up once more into a large bun before sliding the hood over her hair and around her face.
Pressing the wrist button, the suit evacuated the remaining air in the suit. It formed around her, making her conscious of why the lads always dressed in more than just this. She pushed through the small closet, finding some decent shorts and pulled on the long sweater once more. She pulled a bag out, a small duffel and crammed the prototype mask and regulator inside it. Grabbing the oxygen tank, she slid it neatly into the bag before double checking the hose components and leaving. Her eyes darted over her wrists, silently cursing as she grabbed a watch and slipped it on. She checked the timer before looking again at the time.
1900 hours. Late enough for opportunities.
If she couldn’t focus on writing or re-visiting her videos, she could at least go test the prototype. There was still work being done everywhere, and a few of the low atmosphere places weren’t as well watched as others. She managed a half-hearted smile to the few people around she passed, a couple watching her go with concerned looks.
She travelled for a while, looking over a map to see which sections were under repair, which spheres to avoid, and which were entirely shut down. Picking a park disc in one sphere marked avoid, she headed that way with haste.
Upon approaching the entrance, she wasn’t entirely sure how to proceed. A few people were watching the entrance as people went about their business, and none of them had the same setup as what Niki was about to pull out and try to walk in with. Her lip twitched, a frown touching her features as she pondered before remembering the side entrances.
When she finally found one that wasn’t guarded, she froze with realization. Was this how those people had planted bombs? A cold shiver ran through her as she checked the suit once more before donning the mask and checking the seals around her mask and suit. After a bit of tinkering with the regulator, and finding an optimal setting, she pulled on the handle of the door. And pulled.
And pulled once more.
Chit.
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