Chapter Thirty-Four
By the time Connor finished his dehydrated vegetables and tofu dinner, his eyes were itchy, and his vision was blurry. He'd spent the entire day reviewing the video and systems logs of every system imaginable: air circulation; recycling; thermal regulation; electrical; weapons systems.
Nothing could explain the cold air, the horrific smell, or the sounds he'd heard.
And the pressure waves—the turbulence—that had caused so much trouble?
He spent an hour after dinner alone in the galley, drinking a bitter, cocoa-scented synthcaff brew and reviewing the sensor logs for that mystery. The whole time, he strained for any hint of those strange sounds or the horrifying smell, ready for another round of being tossed around like a doll.
Systems had registered something strik
