Eighteen
The power died. One moment Ryann was watching the screens as they showed the final movements of the Hermes, the next everything was gone.
Ryann pulled up filters, and the room took on a familiar green tinge, the outlines of objects harsh, the details fuzzy.
Light returned. Only it was dim and cold.
Arela stared at the blank screens. There was sweat on her brow, but she didn’t wipe it. Her mouth hung open.
“Emergency lighting,” Ryann said, and Arela nodded.
“Back-up power.”
“How much do we have?”
Arela shrugged with a nervous laugh. “Not enough.” Then she swallowed. “We need to bunker down.”
That must have been a phrase from Arela’s childhood, because Ryann didn’t understand. Until Arela issued an open suss.
Arela placed her hands on her desk, and her knuckles were pale w
