The other simulation eggs had opened, leaving his squad floating listlessly above the pedestals. Most of them didn’t even have the energy to remove their patches and tubes.
He could guess why it had been created. The senior staff had decided it wouldn’t hurt for the squad to have their confidence beaten down once in a while. He could even agree with the theory. But the actual experience—fearing you were about to smother, totally alone, without even your cohort, buried alive in the center of malignant alien goop—it made him worry just how much it would affect them.
But he was squad leader, which made it his job to rally them.
Xante gave him a weak smile. Even that clearly took a lot of effort.
“Hey,” Dellian shouted, looking around. “Anyone make it out intact?”
Some shook their heads. Others couldn’t even meet his gaze. The atmosphere in the chamber was worse than they’d known when they’d been stranded in the fake flyer accident all those years ago. The sim had taken them right back down to wrecked little kids again. And he resented that, feeling a spark of anger amid the gloom. “Tilliana,” he called, “that was an eleven on my utter bastard meter. Uret, no sex for her tonight. That’s an order, clear?”
Uret’s lips lifted a fraction. “Clear.”
A few halfhearted smiles appeared around the chamber.
The chamber door irised open five meters away from where Dellian was floating. Tilliana came sliding up through the gap, an arm reaching out to steady herself on Rello’s egg pedestal.
Dellian had assumed she’d have a sly smile on her face, a few teasing phrases ready about how useless they all were. The banter would flow, camaraderie restored. Instead she looked troubled, which resurrected all his own doubts about what had just happened.
Ellici air-swam into the chamber, also looking upset. But with that came a degree of exasperation. She had always lacked Tilliana’s patience.
“All right,” Dellian said to the pair of them. “Tell us that wasn’t a suicide mission.”
“Of course not,” Ellici said. “You barely got through fifteen percent of the asteroid.”
“You?” Xante challenged dangerously. “What happened to
“Ease off,” Dellian said, making it as casual as he could.
“Fucking felt like a suicide job,” Falar grunted. He was plucking medical patches from his neck, his mood dark.
“So how do we get through the asteroid?” Mallot asked.
“Come on,” Tilliana said. “They don’t give us cheat sheets. These sim missions are only going to get worse from now on. Better get used to it.”
“Thanks,” Xante said. “Demoralized—best way to go up against the enemy for real.”
Dellian gave him a warning glance. “Enough. We’re a team. We go through this together.”
“I was about to warn you about the passageway organics,” Tilliana said. “I was slow. Sorry.”
“So you did have a way out?” Uret asked her gently.
“She still doesn’t get any tonight,” Rello chided.
At least that brought a few grins, Dellian thought.
“No,” Tilliana said slowly. “But if the bioluminescence was dimming, it must mean the cells were diverting their nutrient energy for another function. And they were.”
“Hindsight,” Colian said regretfully. “Always the clearest.”
“All right,” Dellian said, making an effort to get them all back on track. “We’ll have a full review tomorrow before we go back in. It’s a wash for the rest of today. The Saints know we need a break after that. Maybe a drink.”
They agreed, their mood lifting slightly. The last connection pads were pulled off bodies. The squad started to air-dive toward the entrance. Uret drifted alongside Tilliana and gave her a soft kiss as they slid past the rim, both of them laughing at the jeers they received.
Dellian was just about to leave when Xante clamped a hand around his ankle.
“We’re not a team,” he said.
“What do you mean?” Dellian asked. He certainly wasn’t in the mood for this. He had a pleasant time all lined up, which he knew would ease him over his frustration. Then tomorrow they’d be back up here in the high-orbit station ready to kick the shit out of that bastard asteroid assault sim.
“Ellici and Tilliana are only two thirds of a team,” Xante said.
“Great Saints, rest this! It’s been years.”
“And she’s not coming back. I get it. But we need someone to replace her. Yirella wouldn’t have let us get caught with our asses hanging out like this. Fucking Saints, I thought I was going to die back there!”
“It’s a sim.”