Free Fluency by Jennifer Foehner Wells Page A

of things she’d need when she did go back in there, all the while ignoring Ajaya’s disapproving eyes on her. As she pulled an air canister out of its compartment, a delightfully dreamy drowsiness came over her. She blinked slowly, her limbs drifting around her, pleasantly thick and heavy.
    Her heart started to pound. 
    She fought down panic and contemplated her options. She could try to resist. That hadn’t been an effective strategy the day before. It had only served to wear her down, exhausting her. She’d gotten next to nothing out of that interaction—certainly nothing that anyone would believe.
    The hum had already begun. It was happening again. 
    She reminded herself that this was an opportunity to get answers. She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing deeply. The throbbing buzz grew stronger. Her thoughts slowed. She schooled herself to stop resisting, relax, stay in the moment….
    She felt a surge of pleasure as awareness of a presence filled her mind.
    She drowsily opened her eyes in the casita. “Hello?”
    “Dr. Jane Holloway—you did not explain to the others about our arrangement.”
    Jane snapped to alert. The voice sounded…pissed. Could a computer sound pissed? She slowly turned in a circle and forced her expression to be neutral, though it felt wooden and uneasy. “Hello? You haven’t told me your name—”
    He interjected, sounding impatient, “I do not understand. This is vital information. You must make them aware.”
    She shook her head. “They won’t believe me. They—I have no proof.”
    She thought about what she was doing—producing virtual words from a virtual mouth—because her body was actually inside the Providence, unconscious, floating around, probably bumping into things. She sank on the bed, suddenly unsure. “Maybe I am crazy.”
    “Dr. Jane Holloway, there is an urgent matter to which you must attend. This is no time to indulge in delusional fantasies.”
    She stood, wary. This bizarre interaction had a way of disarming her. She was forgetting how precarious their situation was, forgetting her normal caution, forgetting all the questions she needed to ask. “What?”
    “I cannot protect them from peril. I have attempted contai nment and exclusion, but the controls are not responding as they should. The nature of the infestation disrupts the applicable neural-electric pathways. I am fixed, immutable. You are the only possible liaison. The others are not open to me. I cannot influence them. You and you alone must act.” The voice resonated with a note of hysteria.
    Jane tensed, suddenly filled with dread. “What are you talking about?”
    “I presumed that your personage would accompany any exploratory efforts. I could guide you, dissuade you, if necessary. However, at present, there are four individuals occupying two discrete chambers and two of these are perilously close to endangering their very existences. I do not wish for their extinguishment.” He sounded haughty, self-righteous.
    Her hand reflexively clutched the back of a chair. “Exti nguishment? Are you saying the other astronauts are in mortal danger?”
    “Dr. Jane Holloway, I expect you to forestall the impending disaster.”
    “How? Tell me how. Tell me what to do. What’s the danger?”
    “Standby. Sending data now.”
    Jane staggered. The buzz inside her head magnified exponentially. Awareness converged inward with a new, unnerving acuity. She could feel the vibration on a heretofore unknown scale—the progress of each tiny bee, making connections, individual neurons firing far faster than they could possibly be meant to. She felt detached from herself, blandly observing, as the space between her ears expanded to accept….
    She gasped. Three-dimensional maps of the interior of the Ta rget, replete with what appeared to be itemized lists of each sector’s function and contents, swamped her conscious mind. She fell to her hands and knees and struggled to comprehend the deluge. “Oh,