Free Time Salvager by Wesley Chu Page A

constant banging and hissing of steam pipes. That loud hollow ring, like a cracked bell, echoed nonstop across the station, just as he remembered. James squeezed his eyes shut and tried to push those painful memories out of his head.
    “You’re no longer the child you once were, pet,” Grace said, caressing his face. “Besides, don’t you want to see her?”
    That “her” snapped James back to reality. It could mean only one person. He opened his eyes and saw a little girl with matted auburn hair and large round eyes. She was barefoot and in rags, with a dirty satchel in her hand. She stood at the end of the hallway and waved. Then she turned and ran.
    “Sasha!” James screamed, taking off after her, past the cubbyhole they called home, through the makeshift air-hatch market, and down past the guard offices. No matter how hard he ran, Sasha stayed a step beyond his reach. He continued chasing her, his heart thundering in his chest as his body threatened to fail him.
    Every time she turned the corner, he willed himself to go faster. His legs began to feel heavy, but he kept urging them on. Faster! Harder! His desperation increased. Somehow, he had lost her. Finally, exhausted, he collapsed onto the floor, sucking in large gulps of air and retching at the same time. The layers of grime mixed with stagnant pools of feces forced his stomach to tighten and twist harder than any time jump could.
    James picked himself up and staggered forward, barely able to stay on his feet. He leaned against the slimy walls for support. Turning the corner he entered a crowded room filled with dozens, no, hundreds of people. They were all relaxed and chatting with each other. As he entered, all of them turned to him in unison and waved.
    James’s blood froze. He had seen these people before. On his left were a group of pilgrims from 2235 that had suffocated when their life support system failed. In the center was the crew of the battleship Judas , destroyed during the Core Conflicts. Behind them were the Luna Base Delta scientists who had caught the asteroid virus 2C-F. The faces and times went on and on. Each of them was a past assignment, people he had left to die.
    Then he saw Grace, bouncing Sasha on her knees, running her old wrinkled hands through his little sister’s tangled auburn hair. “Such pretty curls you have, dear,” Grace cooed into Sasha’s ear. She turned to James and smiled that patronizing Grace Priestly smile. “Nice of you to finally join us, pet. Why don’t you have a seat and catch your breath.”
    James took a labored step forward, and then another. He was almost within reach of Sasha when the station cracked, tearing a line across the floor. He stared helplessly as the room drifted away. There was a massive explosion of air escaping into space, and the moisture in his mouth evaporated. He stretched out his arm in a futile attempt to reach his sister.
    “Sasha!” he screamed silently in the vacuum of space. Yet he was the only one who couldn’t speak.
    “Why are you leaving me?” Sasha cried, tears falling down her face.
    “Oh dear,” Grace said. “Pet, are you killing us a second time? Oh yes, we’re already dead.”
    “You only think that.” The Nazi soldier smiled.
    *   *   *
    “Sasha!” James screamed, bolting up from his bed. His head slammed the top of his sleep pod and he bounced back down on the mattress. Groaning, he flailed out of the opening and dropped two meters down onto the concrete floor. On instinct, he powered the exo and expanded his kinetic field, calling forth four coils ready to lash out. The dark room was bathed in yellow as the energy surrounding his body crackled. Crouched on the floor, James’s eyes darted left and right, his still-sleeping mind searching for signs of his long-dead sister.
    “James, can you hear me?” Smitt’s voice echoed in his head.
    James’s tightened face slowly relaxed as he realized where he was. He stood up and surveyed the room.