Chapter Twelve

Emi struggled to focus. After five days in the pod, she knew without a doubt she was losing her memory.

At times, she just couldn’t remember why.

She’d made notes that auto-displayed on the pod control panel to remind her to do things like completing a log entry. And a trigger to instruct her to jettison the data buoy and activate the beacon if it looked like rescue wasn’t coming.

By day six she’d forgotten Caph’s last name and had to listen to her log notes to remember why she was there. And it was cold. So cold. In a moment of clarity, she caught herself bumping up the temperature yet again and included a reminder why she had to keep it cold. When she later realized she was ignoring that order and turning the temperature up anyway, she locked the thermostat down with a password.

Not like I’ll remember the password to unlock it, at this rate.

A nearly panicked giggle escaped her at that thought.

Out loud and silently, she repeated a mantra. She didn’t want to ever forget her men. Aaron, Caph, Ford.

Aaron, Caph, Ford.

By day nine, it had become a multisyllabic one-word chant. Aaroncaphford. At times she wasn’t sure what it meant, only that it was desperately important she try to remember.

By day twelve, Dr. Emilia Hypatia didn’t know her own name, much less what the small boxy thing was in the pocket of her sweatpants. She suspected some sort of instrument, but the reminder that kept popping up on the control panel screen said she had to leave it in her pocket. Then she had to follow more instructions to activate a beacon and dump a buoy, whatever those were. When a prompt asked if she wanted to clear the lifepod’s databanks after the buoy was jettisoned, she selected yes, since there were no instructions not to.

She also felt afraid. So afraid. And fucking cold! There didn’t seem to be a way to make it warmer. The thermostat setting had been locked by some goddamned doctor.

Why would a doctor want to keep it cold in here? Fucking bitch.

She wrapped the blankets around her more tightly.

* * *

Where was she? She couldn’t even remember how she’d gotten here, only that she’d escaped, and at the time she’d been very afraid.

The rings on her left hand meant something, but she couldn’t quite remember what. Aaroncaphford.

Was that her name?

She spent her time staring out the view port into the inky blackness.

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