Not Me

The door whooshed open and closed, sending equally sterilized air into the chamber. Nevan gaped at Kessia. She stood stiffly before the chamber’s central console. Stiffly and awkwardly.

She’d stood with arms spread to increasing her volume. Even her hair stuck out at odd angles. He didn’t have to guess why she stood that way. The answer was apparent behind her.

The terminal had taken a hit, and her slim bulk hid the damage poorly. She couldn’t conceal the warped metal and massive hole, and the HVAC sucked plumes of smoke upwards.

“Kessia?” He left the question at a single word. Nevan hadn’t figured out which should follow. What happened? When? Or why?

She drew a breath, as if she would argued. Shaking her head, Kessia dropped her arms. “It wasn’t me.” She answered the one he hadn’t considered.

“It wasn’t you?” he repeated moving to her side. He pressed a finger the scored metal. His skin blistered instantly. Yanking it back, he shook his hand vehemently. “Then who?”

The chamber had been sealed. No one entered without authorization, and few were authorized. Her, him, and two others.

“Not Kam or Dinra either.” She answered his unspoken questions quickly.

“Then who?” Nevan asked

“I…” she shrugged. “You won’t believe me.”

Whether or not Nevan would have believed it, became a moot. From the wall behind Kessia, a phantom appeared ripping a hole in its wake. The’d boarded the ship. He’d worry about how after they were gone.