Excerpt of Intergalactic Witness Protection

I land the ship in the shadows of the planet where the illumination from neither Jupiter nor the sun reaches. The tint of the field protecting the colony is just barely visible from this vantage point.

Nicholas happily runs in place wearing his ridiculous suit. Killa glances at him side-long and then rolls her eyes.

Orion doesn’t even notice as he stares ahead, his face composed even though his complexion is very, very pale.

He’s scared.

If I weren’t an AI, I would hate that Venetian for what she’s done to my captain, what she’s still doing, and what she would do if given the chance. But AIs don’t feel hate. They don’t feel anything. Except, of course, loyalty for their team.

“We should hurry,” Killa says, surveying the city in the distance. “Before Nicholas’s suit disintegrates from old age and he dies from exposure.”

“Hey!” Nicholas cries. “These vintage suits are the real thing. It’s you guys I’m worried about.” He grins at me. “Well, not you, Alisia Ivy. You’ll outlive us all.”

For a moment, I forget I am an AI. For a moment, I feel pure and abject fear.

And then I start marching forward. As much as a hologram can march, of course.

Then my sensors begin to pick something up.

I glance back at my crew. “Did you feel something?”

Nicholas pats his stomach. “Some hunger. And I think Killa felt a little attraction pointed my way.”

“I felt some annoyance and anger,” Killa counters. “But you seem to be feeling delusions.”

Orion lifts a hand to silence them before turning to me. “Why?”

“My sensors are picking up measurements on the Ritcher scale.” If only I were physical so I could put a face to the numbers.

Killa tenses. No doubt her childhood trauma with a certain Marsquakes is being triggered right now.

Orion glances around the terrain. “I know this area. There’s a Cyrovolcano southeast.”

“Draco’s fire,” Nicholas mutters.

And I know what he’s thinking. The force with which a Cyrovolcano can spew out volatile gasses can decimate their space suits.

Why do humans have to be so vulnerable?

Orion mutters something else under his breath before gesturing toward the colony. “We need to continue our march. Quickly.”

Quickly being a relative term in a moon with no gravity necessitating heavy-laden boots.

“I’m going to run reconnaissance,” I say before breaking off from the group. My sensors should be able to take me toward the Cyrovolcano and I can measure how powerful of an eruption is coming. Perhaps it is more distant than Orion gave it credit for.

But how distant does it have to be for my crew to be safe?

I scan the terrain, searching for the source of the rumblings. How much time do I have left? Do they have left?

All the arrows point to a mound of crust rising about six feet out of the ground. And only fifty kilometers from the crew.

Turning back to my crew, I make my hologram re-materialize next to where they have only made ten kilometers forward from where I left them.

The city is still another fifty kilometers away.

They aren’t going to make it.

We need a canyon.

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