A/N: Dun dun dun…guess who we meet in THIS chapter? It's only our third major species of the story! Or seventh, I guess… And everyone's favorite B.R.E. is back!
Chapter Three
Well, that might have been a little misleading. I know for a fact that the others went to sleep at that point, but I stayed awake for a while. It usually takes me a while to get to sleep on a starship, even after a full day's work. Maybe because I'm still, after months on the Keyala, used to my mattress pad at home. Whatever the reason, I was restless that night. When I'm restless, I usually get up to look out the window (unless we're in Z-space, in which case the others would have a case for justified murder). When I look out the window at the normal-space stars, I usually get weirdly philosophical.
So I got up, moved to the window, found the brightest area of sky (the galaxy core, now risen above the horizon), and was well into an internal debate on destiny by the time my eyes had fully adjusted. Unfortunately, I don't know much about our free will theories, so I soon ran out of material. And the landscape was just as bleak now as it had been before. No moon could be this smooth, could it? I mean, science had been my favorite subject in school, and no planet or moon we'd ever found was fully smooth. Even the infamous Madra Moon, close up, had icy outcrops.
So I looked for the horizon line, the divider between sky-filling galactic core and smooth icy terrain.
I didn't see any rock outcrops.
But I did see something moving. Something large. Something very large, with a slow, bipedal gait.
"Hey guys!" I whispered urgently. "Guys! People! Wake up!"
"Hhmmph," murmured Hanesh into his pillow.
"Hanesh!" I whisper-yelled, shaking him awake by the shoulder. And immediately jumping backward, because shaking a Great awake by the shoulder is a dangerous thing if you're a Little.
Hanesh sat up. "It's way too late, Aniera," he whined, rubbing his reptilian eyes. "Go back to—" I pulled on his arm until he stood up, and then brought him back to the window with me.
"There's something moving around out there!"
"Why exactly are we whispering here?" Hanesh whispered, totally ignoring my urgency.
"Hanesh, focus! Look out the window! Do you see anything?"
He looked out the window. Then he rubbed his eyes and looked again.
"Whoa—OK. I'm seeing some moving rocks out there."
"They're people, of course," I said. "Natives!"
Hanesh just gave me a look. One of his "superior" looks. "Aniera," he said, "might I remind you that it's a hundred and forty-four K out there? That's a hundred twenty-nine K below the freezing point of water—"
"No, you don't need to remind me," I said irritably. "Just look, will you? There are people out there."
"Yes. And they're obviously from the Keyala. Crew members on a scientific expedition or whatever. Kasseena's father must be dying for a few samples. I heard he's been pestering the Captain since we've landed."
I frowned, wondering how Hanesh had heard that bit of gossip. Then again, I didn't yet know where he worked. Funny, isn't it? I'd known him for months.
I was interrupted from my ponderings by a pair of Great knuckles rapping on the top of my head.
"Ow!"
"It's a little late for your Little brain," Hanesh said, and laughed at his own pun as he went back to bed.
I don't think he'd meant it to hurt. But I went back to my own bunk rubbing my skull and cursing silently. And also thinking about what Hanesh had said. He was probably right; it was, after all, extremely cold on this moon, with very little atmosphere. It had to be Keyala crewers. And yet…
And yet, who had ever seen a Great that tall?
RC7 was only about a hundred meters further down the deck 10 corridor than the Amagan cadet quarters, and, we had calculated, a hundred and ten by water tunnel. Abosh claimed a sustained swimming speed of forty-eight kilometers per hour. A speed which would give him a time of seven point five seconds, according to the mental math skills of Hanesh.
"Impossible," he'd said flatly.
"Possible," Abosh had said, "and moreover, I resent the implication that you know my own physical capabilities better than me, Hanesh."
"Well, we're going to have to settle this some way." Hanesh. "Aniera, stop rolling your eyes and tell us how to clock it."
"Why me?" I had asked as Yanesh dealt Hanesh a tail-blow to the head from the top bunk.
"Politeness is a virtue, little bro."
"I thought you two were twins?"
"We are, Kasseena, but I'm five minutes older."
"So anyway," Hanesh had cut in, "as Aniera is our resident maintenance genius, I volunteer her to solve our problem."
So here I stood in RC7, trying to look inconspicuous as the other cadets from Geradam shift shuffled in for the meeting Bosh had called. Yep. Just a Little hanging around the Swimmer tank. Nothing unusual here.
I glanced around and surreptitiously leaned forward, keying into the computer touchpad on the tank the proper command to connect me to Abosh's tank. I set his visual screen for a five second countdown. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.
Go. I started a mental count.
One, Desbadeen, two, Desbadeen, three, Desbadeen, four….seven, desba—
A rush of bubbles which sent me jumping backward appeared in the tank, and from the middle of the cloud appeared—
Bosh.
"Good morning cadet," he said, if not warmly, then politely. I had a feeling that I should sit down.
"Won't you sit down?"
I sat down.
The computer had managed to put an acid tone in that translation, by some system I don't understand. I never have been able to read Swimmer facial expressions, if they even have any. But I can guess, and with Bosh, I usually guess "glare."
I was comfortably on the front row of the group of seats Bosh had had set up in RC7 for today's cadet meeting when there was another whoosh of bubbles in the tank, out of which Abosh appeared, running nearly headlong into the ship's first officer. Or whatever you call it when Swimmers swim into someone front-first.
The bubbles cleared.
"Goo—good morning, sir," came an identical computer voice, which must have been interpreting Abosh this time.
"Good morning yourself. I doubt, cadet, that you have forgotten the Keyala's regulations for tunnel speed?" Definitely Bosh this time. Even the computer voice dripped corrosive toxin.
In case you hadn't figured it out yet, Bosh isn't the most kind-hearted fish on the ship. He's also in charge of us cadets, as well as being second in command. That means calling periodic meetings, assigning us work, and disciplining us if needed.
The rest of Amagan shift arrived about thirty seconds after Abosh, bursting through the door in a way that wasn't quite against regulations. Bosh favored them with what I took to be a glower as they came to sit on the front row with me.
Surprise, surprise: all the other, farther-away seats had already been taken up.
The last to arrive was the Geradam maintenance cadet Daran, whom we heard hopping up the deck 10 corridor with a metallic clonk, clonk for a few seconds before he arrived.
On the homeworld, Clappers hop with a sound vaguely reminiscent of clapping, due to the soil and vegetation. Hence, for anyone who hasn't caught on yet, the species name. Science class with Aniera.
"I am sure," Bosh began now, with the computer voice amplified several times to get our attention, "I am sure that you have all heard a version of what occurred yesterday during Amagan shift. I called you here to stop the circulation of rumors"—he paused to send a fishy glower at a notorious Geradam female Clapper—"and to set you straight on what actually happened, which, from what I have heard, is not often what is being reported."
Hanesh cast a nonchalant glance at Kasseena and me, as if hoping that we had gotten something wrong. Yanesh, intercepting the glance, glared a threat at him. A look from Bosh had us all facing forward again.
"Now then," he began, and proceeded to tell the story. I was pleased to note that it was nothing more or less than what we had told Hanesh. Let him stew in that.
"And now," concluded Bosh, "we are sitting on that very moon. It has somewhat less gravity than our ArtiGrav system usually generates. Do not be alarmed at the difference. We are leaving the moon as soon as possible, which can hopefully be within the next thirty-six hours. Which means that we need everyone to be working at top shape today. We are here solely to repair our vital systems, despite the urgings of some"—he sent a glare at Kasseena, as if he wished to chastise her over-zealous father through her—"and will leave as soon as those repairs are done."
I bit my lip confusedly. It sounded like we hadn't sent anyone outside, but I wasn't about to—
"Sir," Hanesh spoke up beside me, causing me to groan internally. "Sir, does that mean we haven't sent anyone outside the ship?"
Bosh gave him what I interpreted as a queer look. "No, cadet, no one. Now if that's all, I'll—"
"Sir," Hanesh interrupted, and shot a glance at me. I nodded support. "We saw people outside last sleep period."
Bosh paused.
"It's true, sir," I piped up, figuring the deed was already begun. "We were looking out the window, about an hour and a half into the sleep period, when we saw shapes—moving shapes—out against the horizon."
"Indeed." I could hear the patronizing voice even without the computer interpretation. "And how many of you saw these people, cadets?"
"Er—just us two, sir," said Hanesh, indicating him and me.
"I couldn't sleep, sir, so I was looking out the window," I jumped in. Watch Hanesh give us an equal share in the adventure. "I saw them and woke Hanesh up." I was about to add the size of the creatures, but stopped. Telling of mysterious ice-moon natives twenty meters tall wouldn't make our story any more credible.
"Indeed. Well, cadets, I'm sure you thought you saw something…but you must remember that it is one hundred forty-four K on the moon's surface. That's one hundred twenty-nine K below the freezing point of water. No living thing could survive, especially without strong radiant energy."
I felt the presence, on my left, of a young Great rolling his eyes. As if he'd never heard that little speech before. In any event, Bosh suddenly became more sharp.
"It's obvious there's a case of gravity-nerves going on on this ship," he said. "It's understandable, but unprofessional, and I don't want it to affect anyone's work. Do you understand me?"
We nodded as a group.
"I don't want any talk of strange creatures. It serves no purpose. Within two days we will have left this moon and will probably be on our way back to Outpost Yala. Leave your wild stories for shore leave. Dismissed."
After Bosh had left, we got up. The Geradam cadets started to mill around and talk about the briefing, but Hanesh, Yanesh, Kasseena, and I moseyed up to the water tank.
"So how did I do?" asked Abosh, and I blinked for a minute.
"I mean, how fast was I?" he amended.
"Oh!" I'd quite lost count. "Well, Bosh arrived right on seven seconds, and you were at least three seconds behind him—"
"No way!" Abosh groaned as Hanesh did a silent victory dance. Yanesh gave him another tail clip.
"I've clocked myself at forty-eight easy," Abosh said.
"Well, let's look at the math again," Kasseena said reasonably. "A hundred meters, divided by a rate of—"
"It was a hundred and ten meters," Hanesh cut in, groaning loudly. "That's where I was off! But I'm sure you didn't make it anyway," he added, looking challengingly at Abosh.
"Excuse him," Yanesh said apologetically. "I'm afraid I used up all the available genes for politeness."
"I just got left with the trifling leftovers…like intelligence…"
I'm afraid Kasseena and I may have incurred Great wrath by sniggering when Yanesh knocked Hanesh hard enough for him to fall on his butt. Greats are a violent lot. But they're great for entertainment.
Hanesh glared at us from the floor.
"Gee, guys—I'm late for maintenance," I said, and walked—quickly—for the door. I heard Kasseena buzzing behind me.
"Oh no, you—"
The closing of the RC7 door cut him off in mid-sentence.
Maintenance was a little understaffed today, since everyone else was out working on repairs to the vital ship systems. By "a little understaffed," I mean "me." Myself. Aniera, Little maintenance cadet, the sole crewman on duty. It was a little stressful.
The crew seemed to be tense, and I could relate to them on that. But it was still annoying when two food synthesizers and a button on one elevator broke at the exact same time. It was even more annoying when the people in all three of those areas expected to be my top priority. I guess people tend to be crankier in tense situations; that might explain the mild verbal abuse I incurred. ("It's about time you showed up, Little!" "This button has been broken for twenty minutes, Little!" "Cadet, need some rocket boots?" Oh, the great comedians of the fleet.)
I was not sorry to see the end of Amagan shift that day. I didn't want to talk to, or listen to, any other living being of any species for twelve hours, when the sleep period was over. And when I would have to get up and do it again, because we wouldn't leave the moon before another Amagan shift had been completed.
Do I sound cranky? Sorry. It had been a rough day.
When I got back to the cadet quarters, Kasseena was already there, looking, of all things, tired.
"Hey, Kass."
"Hey, Aniera. Man," she said, launching into her grievances right away, "when they say 'run this message to so and so,' they really mean run. I am sorry, but no Flyer alive can carry a message from the bridge to deck 25 in two minutes!"
"It was a full day in maintenance, too," I offered.
"Everyone is so tense," she said. "I saw things being broken left and right." She laughed and buzzed her wings, as if just remembering something. "Oh, Aniera: you should have seen the Captain today! He tried to use the bridge elevator to get down to a lower level, but the buttons had been broken! I bet he swelled up to twice his size, easy."
"Yeah?" I sat up, having a personal interest in this case. "I remember that one: about an hour past mid-shift, right? It was a Flyer crewman who did it: a Flyer! He just got mad and pushed the button as hard as he could and he broke it."
"Yeah," she said, sounding suddenly noncommittal. "I heard that too."
"Well," I said, my face suddenly reddening. "I guess…well, sometimes Flyers don't know their own strength."
"Flyers don't have any strength," Kasseena corrected me in that same noncommittal manner. "Didn't you know that, Aniera?"
That hadn't been a polite question. I sighed.
"Sorry, Kass. I guess…well, it's just usually a Great you hear about breaking stuff…I mean, that has to be inconvenient, you know?"
"Did I just hear the words 'Great' and 'inconvenient' in the same sentence?" came Hanesh's voice from the corridor door. He and his sister entered in tandem, looking like twin lizard-monsters from a storybook or something. If you looked closely, though, you could see their eyes opening and shutting in quick, fluttering motions. That's what Greats do when they're tired. In case you were wondering.
"Full day?" I asked them, feeling clever as I observed their eyelids.
"Yeah," said Yanesh, flopping down on the bottom bunk in the twins' set. "I was on my toe-claws all day. He tried to shirk"—she jerked her head at Hanesh, who wrinkled his nose at her—"but they caught onto him by midday."
"I was just as busy as you, Yan," Hanesh said indignantly. "I was doing my part to get us off this asteroid in thirty-six hours."
I rolled my eyes.
"Aniera, I don't think you should be rolling your eyes at a direct command from our first officer!"
I rolled my eyes again, just to spite him.
"The messengers got a really raw deal today," Kasseena observed, buzzing her wings and stretching them tiredly. "I should go out for the Five-Species Games."
"Well, what did we expect when we entered the fleet?" asked Yanesh reasonably, in the worst possible time for reasonableness to be accepted by the Amagan cadets. "A picnic? It's nothing we can't handle. And we'll be out of here in twenty-four hours, tops."
Hanesh took this opportunity to fall asleep standing up, snoring loudly. I was pretty sure he was faking. Yanesh apparently thought so, too, because she made a point of bouncing up in her bunk hard enough that the entire bunk set lifted off the floor and crashed back down again.
CRASH!
"Yee-owch!" Hanesh yelled, though the beds had been at least a meter away from his feet. "What was that for?"
"Yan, that scared even me," said Kasseena from the ceiling. Yanesh smiled sheepishly and went to the changing room.
There was a bubbling sound in the water tank, and Abosh appeared. If I was good at interpreting Swimmer facial expressions, I'm sure he would have looked tired to me.
"Tired?" asked Hanesh.
He didn't bother to reply. Yanesh came back soon, and we should have gotten to the business of getting ready for bed. But we didn't.
"Heard any more about the Andalite ship?" I asked Kassena, who would more than likely have been the one to hear about it.
"None," she said. "The Keyala's sensors are back online now, and they're searching the system. There's no ship, no other planets, no nothing."
"Except asteroids," Hanesh corrected her.
Kasseena made a face, which was hard for her insectile features to accomplish. "That's for sure. I'm beginning to think a few planets collided out there, the asteroid belt's so large. That's actually a theory my father has advanced, when he could capture the Captain's ear."
I looked out the window during a lull in the conversation. The galactic core had "risen" since last sleep period, and more of it was visible. It's amazing what you can see on a world with little atmosphere that you can't see on the home world. I walked to the window, remembering to leave Abosh enough room to see outside from his tank.
OK. Did I really want to start this discussion again? It was questionable as to whether Hanesh would even still be on my side…I sighed, knowing there was nothing for it.
"Hanesh," I started quietly from the window. "Hanesh, you agree with me, that we saw people outside last night. Right?"
I turned around toward the group and saw Hanesh looking at me, and for one time in his whole life he had a serious expression on his face.
"Aniera, you know I was standing right there beside you. I saw those things same as you did. Why are you asking?"
I didn't have a chance to answer, because Yanesh butted in at this point, answering his question far more adequately than I could have.
"Oh, come on, you two. In case you've forgotten, it's a hundred forty-four K out there, there is almost no sunlight, and mere wisps of an atmosphere. And besides, Bosh has forbidden us to talk about it. So why don't we just drop this line of conversation?"
"We saw what we saw," Hanesh said defiantly.
"And," I jumped in, wanting our side of the matter to be expressed with a little more eloquence, "how can we know that there aren't life-forms here that evolved for this very environment? The one hundred forty-four K temperature, the little sunlight, the little atmosphere: those are conditions where life as we know it can't survive. But maybe…"
"Yeah, Yan," cut in Hanesh. "You know, even on the homeworld, there's bacteria that can survive in volcanic vents and under glaciers. It's not impossible."
That was exactly what I had been about to say, and I blinked.
Yanesh sighed and flopped down on the bed again. "Look, you guys, I just don't see why you're so upset about this. OK, so maybe you're right and Bosh is wrong. Who cares about some moving shadows outside? We're not even supposed to be talking about this, anyway," she said, glaring at her brother.
"Some moving shadows? Yan, if there are people out there, they could be a threat to the ship!" cried Hanesh, correct if melodramatic. "And besides, isn't it a little hobby of the fleet to look for new civilizations in the galaxy?"
Actually, that was the fleet's founding purpose. We've done fairly so far: within fifty years we've discovered the Desbadeens, the Skrit Na, and the Andalites. Plus countless worlds that contain only plant and lower animal life.
"Look," said Kasseena. "We're not saying we don't believe you."
"It's just that you don't believe us," said Hanesh.
"Shut up. It's just that the chances you really saw something are slim. You could have been sleepwalking—what say we go to sleep and forget about it?" she asked, seeing my betrayed expression. "We'll be gone soon."
"Can I give my opinion?" spoke up a familiar computer voice, and we all turned toward Abosh's tank. "I don't think we should disbelieve Aniera and Hanesh. Aniera and Hanesh don't usually sleepwalk. And Aniera's trustworthy."
"Hey," objected Hanesh. Abosh ignored him.
"We should approach this issue with open minds," he said, sounding wise, like the Cavisi should. Whatever a Cavisi is.
"If you guys don't believe us," I started, an idea popping into my head, "then I'll stay up and look for the creatures tonight. I'll wake you up if I see them, and you'll all get a good look at them."
Yanesh groaned. "But Aniera, we have precious few hours to sleep. You want to be well-rested tomorrow…" I could tell she was really speaking for herself.
"I think it's a good idea," Kasseena volunteered. "At least we'll know." I beamed at her.
"Guys?" came the "voice" of Abosh. "Whatever you do, and may I suggest you don't try to stop Aniera—"
"What was that supposed to mean?" I asked suspiciously.
"—put out the lights fairly quickly, as I have to be at my post early tomorrow."
We complied, and got dressed for bed. Everyone settled in, except me, who, after turning out the lights as usual, took up a post by the window.
Fortunately, even with the galactic core in full view, it was dark enough for the others to sleep. For the first twenty minutes of my watch, I was convinced that was what I'd end up doing. My eyelids felt weighted, even in my vertical position. After an hour, I had almost given up and was turning around to go to bed—
--when I felt a thick hand on my shoulder.
"I thought maybe we'd watch in shifts," whispered Hanesh in my ear. I nodded gratefully as I went to bed. Wow. Maybe he has a decent streak after all.
It was during my second watch that sleep period that the creatures—whatever they were—made their appearance. I was staring at the bright horizon line, noticing how curved it was, and feeling the tiniest bit homesick. The tiniest bit.
My gaze was inevitably drawn by the soup of light just above the horizon; the galactic core was truly an awesome sight. We see it from the homeworld, but not in all its glory. It's amazing what you miss out on under the benevolent protection of an atmosphere. So I stood and stared at the galactic core, wondering why everything worked and if destiny were real, or if everybody was just let loose on their own, like driftwood on a sea, with no guiding hand…sorry. I don't know much about our free will theories; but that's what I was thinking about.
I must have dozed off. I'm not surprised at that; I was very tired. All I know is that one moment I was admiring sleepily the majesty of the galaxy, and the next I was…gone. But still here. I was delirious; this wasn't possible. It wasn't possible to see the front, sides, back, and a few other surfaces of every object at the same time…there were no other sides than front back and sides…were there? Strange…the Keyala looked quite different now…where was I going…or was I going anywhere?
And then, suddenly—I was back. Nothing had changed, and I hadn't even moved a muscle. Nothing had changed…but in the center of my vision. There. Were my eyes playing tricks? I was surely still dreaming. Because there, in the middle of the galactic core, was an eye. A red eye, on a throne. The eye looked downward, and, involuntarily almost, I followed with my eyes.
And now I was surely dreaming no more, because right there where I was looking now, silhouetted against the horizon line, was a large shape. And it was moving.
"Guys!" I called. "Wake up!"
"Go to bhmmsf," Hanesh said as he rolled over and became muffled by the sheet. I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he meant "go to bed."
"Hanesh! It's them!"
Then Hanesh sat straight up. "It's them? Yan! Wake up!" He pounded on the underside of the top bunk.
I looked back to the galactic core, just in case…but there was no red eye, much less a disembodied red eye on a throne. I had been dreaming. That was it. Yet I couldn't shake the feeling…
I was shaken out of my reverie by a Great hand clapping down on my shoulder.
"Unngh."
"Where are they, Aniera?"
I shook my head to clear it. "There," I said, pointing out where I had been looking…and sure enough, there they were. Two shapes, definitely moving, definitely huge.
"I see them," said Hanesh.
"I see them," said Kasseena. "Wow!" And she buzzed her wings in amazement.
"Let me see," complained Yanesh. Then she fell silent.
"Excuse me," Abosh said testily from behind us, "but I still haven't seen them. Five witnesses would look better in front of Bosh, hmm? Especially—" he fell silent.
"The Cavisi?" I offered, not sure whether I wanted to grin at him or strangle him through the tank. I settled for grinning, since there was no way I could have broken through the tank.
"Actually, I was going to say 'someone of his own species.' But that works, too."
"You do that, fish-boy," said Hanesh, turning back to the window. "You do that."
I blinked, confused and feeling that something had just happened that had been over my head.
I moved aside for Abosh to see.
"So," I began after a few seconds, "what do we do now?"
"Well, I'm going to see Bosh," said Abosh.
"He'll never come with you," I said.
"Oh, he'll come with me," said Abosh.
"Tell him there's a semi-urgent emergency of an unspecified nature," said Kasseena. "And that's an actual shipboard classification, you guys. I should know."
"Brilliant," said Hanesh.
"He'll come," Abosh repeated, and left in a cloud of bubbles.
"Think he'll come?" I asked no one in particular.
"Mark my word, Aniera—he'll come faster than you've ever seen him go anywhere before."
I glanced up at Yanesh after this surprising little speech, but the tall reptilian girl was silent now, mesmerized again by what was outside the window.
And Bosh came, definitely faster than I had ever seen him go anywhere before, if my information on where he slept was correct.
"I sure hope you cadets have found something worthwhile," he said, the grumbling tone evident even in the computer translation. "Especially since I forbade you to discuss the subject."
"They're walking along the horizon line, sir," I said. "We all saw them this time."
"Is this true, cadets?"
"Yes, sir." Kasseena's voice was the only one that rang out to back me up, though I saw the Greats nodding their heads.
"There are two of them, sir," I continued.
"They're moving slowly…bipedal gait…" Kasseena buzzed her wings in agitation as she searched outside the window.
"It would, of course, be helpful if I had a clear view out the window, cadets."
"Of course, sir." The four of us moved aside in tandem.
I waited, tense. I hadn't seen the creatures in a few minutes…hadn't looked for them…please please let them still be there…
"By the rings of Desbadeen," Bosh pronounced slowly, and after several tense minutes. "By the rings of Desbadeen. There are."
I let out a long, slow breath.
"We have sent no one outside…none…I would know…no landing craft that large…too big for…" It sounded more like he was talking to himself than to any of us. We let him continue until he addressed us directly.
"Cadets," he said at last. "Thank you for bringing this to our attention. I will inform the captain about what I have witnessed, and he will probably want to question you himself shortly. For now," and he cast a glance around all of us that I imagined was approving.
"For now, get to bed. This is way too late an hour for an entire shift of cadets to be awake. Get to sleep at once, if you want to be anywhere near efficient in your jobs tomorrow." He left with a cloud of bubbles and without a goodbye.
So I guess it had been another severe glance, after all.
Yanesh broke the silence. "Can we get to bed now?"
"I vote with Yanesh," I said, and Kasseena chimed in her agreement.
"If the Captain knocks on the door, I guess we'll hear it," I said as we laid back down.
"Sure," Yanesh murmured from the top bunk.
But there was no knock, and the rest of the Amagan sleep period was peaceful. It took me a few minutes to fall back into slumber, but when I did, it was a deep, satisfying sleep for the most part. My only hint otherwise came when I woke up that shift-change, with the fleeting image of a giant, laughing red eye fresh in my mind.
A/N: Bosh—grr. Oh, and B.R.E. = Big Red Eye.
