Page 14 of Music of the Ocean

He wanted a nap, but the notion of sleeping again made the skin on his neck prickle. Maybe tonight would be dreamless. He zoned out for what felt like a few seconds. When he came to, his console had updated the planetary status.

Holy shit, the planet had shifted. Not by orbit, but by mass. Something in the ocean’s density was off, a shift in mean molecular weight. That shouldn’t have happened, not unless there was a massive geological event or… he wasn’t sure what. The margin was minuscule, but it was there.

He flagged it and sent a note to the Science Bay.

Abe responded a minute later. “We’re on it. You’re not hallucinating. Shit’s weird.”

Saxby almost laughed. Weird summed up the entire mission. The familiar hum of the Bridge, the awkward snorts and coughs of the other crew members, the endless tick of shipboard time. It was enough to make everything feel normal beneath his feet, even if his body was doing everything it could to convince him otherwise.

A migraine started to bloom behind his eyes. He reached for his water bottle, and the taste of brine hit him so hard he gagged. He ignored it.

He zoned out again, and when he came to, he was on the other side of the Bridge on a comm device. Gods, this was like when he’d fallen asleep on the couch and woken up in bed. What the fuck?

There was something wrong, and it was time to stop ignoring it. As badly as he wanted to be captain, he couldn’t if he died because he was being stupid.

Captain Mollen strode onto the Bridge. “Report,” he snapped.

Kira ran him through the status update.

“Also, planetary mass is fluctuating,” Saxby said, voice steadier than he felt. “Not enough to skew nav, but enough to be odd.”

“Noted.” Captain Mollen vanished back into his Ready Room.

THE NEXT four hours passed in a blur. The hum of the ship, the ping of sensors, the back-and-forth with engineering. Well, Saxby drifted.

But every so often, the taste of salt would surge or the ache in his neck would flare, and he’d have to squeeze the armrest and force his mind back to the panel. Sometimes, he found his hand hovering somewhere odd, like he’d lost a few seconds and was catching up to himself.

Kira left. Abe came and went, muttering about protein chains and isotopic drift. Vance pinged him on the comms to ask if he was still upright.

Finally, the shift ended with a gentle chime and the voice of the AI. “Shift complete. All stations, rotate.”

Saxby peeled himself out of the seat and left the Bridge. He realized the headache wasn’t fading. He’d doubled the intake on his water bottle and still felt parched, like his skin had dried out from the inside.

The ache behind his eyes was a constant now, a slow, twisting screw. He stopped by Medical. Vance was already waiting, arms folded, leaning against the far wall in a pose that said he’d been there longer than necessary.

“If looks could kill,” Saxby said. “What’s up? Why are you glaring at me?”

Vance snorted. “Oh, I have a list of folks, but you’re not on it. You, I just want to hydrate. Sorry, I wasn’t glaring at you, just at something I was thinking about.”

Saxby slid onto the exam table, and before Saxby could protest, Vance stuck an instrument in his mouth to swab his cheek. It was so fast and practiced it barely registered.

“Try to spit on me—” Vance finished up. “—and I’ll break your legs.”

Saxby grinned and instantly regretted it when the smile pulled at a muscle that wasn’t supposed to hurt. He grunted.

“Okay, what was that? You’re getting worse?” Vance asked.

Saxby nodded. “Yeah. Enough that I’m getting worried. I keep zoning out.”

He explained about going to sleep on the couch and waking up in bed, and how he didn’t remember any of it. And that happened on the Bridge briefly, too. He also told Vance about the violent coughing fit and the pink crap that came up, plus the tightness in his chest and how tender his neck was on the sides.

“I don’t get why none of this showed up from the medband. It should’ve. That’s why you’re being monitored, but there’s no data to support what you’ve told me that I can find. I don’t get it.” Vance grunted as he moved through the rest of the checkup in silence.

“Nothing was recorded? Nothing?” Saxby asked. He hated how winded he sounded. There was no way talking should’ve left him breathless, that was just ridiculous. He was in fairly good shape, damn it. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know. I don’t get it, either.” Vance stared at Saxby, lips pursed. Then, he nodded. “You’re going to hate me, but—”

Saxby groaned. “Oh, come on, man. Don’t.”