Gravity (Dark Anomaly #1) - Marina Simcoe Page 0,13
Maybe, he was too tired to think logically? Now, that he’d hopefully had some rest, he surely should be able to see that what he planned to do with me was wrong.
Had he been away from the real world for too long? That might impair his understanding of the common laws and morality.
The Anomaly turned out to be nothing like what humans had expected. Not once during our mission had the theory of life existing inside it been brought up.
I’d read reports of ships disappearing in this area during the early days of space travel. The last disappearances of live beings had happened centuries before humans made contact with the other species populating our Galaxy.
How long had this crew and their captain been surviving here? What generation of survivors must they be?
The word errock finally triggered my memory. It was the name of one species I had learned about in the academy. Errocks were a civilized nation, living on Hexol, one of the planets of the Federation. No wonder I didn’t recognize them when Wyck and Crux barged into my ship. The pictures I had seen of the errocks were those of well-groomed politicians and scientists, dressed in sleek, tailored suits or lab coats. None of them looked rugged and wild like Crux, Wyck, and the rest of this feral bunch. I was certain their out-of-control behavior would not be tolerated on their home planet, either.
Whatever this place was, my priority remained finding a way out of here.
My mission commander must have sent a search party when I had failed to return to the station yesterday. However, I couldn’t realistically expect anyone to rescue me. At the very least, I needed to find a way off the Anomaly to meet the search party outside of its gravitational field.
I found the bathroom door next to the entrance of my room. It slid open the moment I touched it. The water in the shower turned out to be barely lukewarm, not inviting me to linger. Still, I managed to wash and rinse my hair before it stopped running. My five minutes had run out.
Finding a towel, I dried myself then slipped back into my bodysuit.
I was combing my hair with the ornate comb I’d found in the box with the toiletries when the door to my room opened and Vrateus entered, carrying another tray with food.
“Good morning.” He stopped by the door, closing it quickly, then gaped at me with a curious expression on his face.
“What time is it?” I asked, since there was no time-keeping device in this room.
He kept staring at me, following the movement of my comb with his eyes.
“It looked just like a real tail,” he muttered under his breath, setting the tray on the table.
“Tail?” I touched my hair, confused.
“Never mind.” He shook his head on his way out.
“Wait.” I rushed after him, stopping him by the door. “Can we talk for a minute, please?”
“About what?” He gave me a suspicious glance.
“I’m afraid we didn’t start off well.” I clutched my hands together in front of me, determined to give diplomacy another chance. “I’d like to apologize for our misunderstanding last night.”
I took a pause, waiting for an apology from him in return, but it never came.
Well, he had obviously been away from civilization for too long. A lack of manners could be expected.
“Anyway,” I continued as he just stood there in his usual position, his hands folded across his wide chest. “I offer to organize a rescue mission for everyone on the Anomaly, in exchange for your help in my departure from here.”
“Departure?” he scoffed. “There is no leaving this place.”
It appeared he was intending to keep me prisoner, which was disturbing. I needed to clarify that.
“I believe I may have the means to leave—”
“You believe?” he smirked, taking a step closer and leaning my way. “You still don’t understand. Do you? The Dark Anomaly sucks things in. It releases nothing or anyone. Ever.”
Fighting the urge to shrink away from him, I stood my ground.
“Well, has anyone ever really tried to leave?”
“Plenty of times.” He huffed a sad laugh. “All have crashed right back here—smeared on the wreckage along the edge of the disk.”
That gruesome description gave me pause.
“How long has it been since the last attempt?”
“A few years now,” he said, then specified, “Anomaly years.”
“Are those different from the universal year definition of the Federation?”
He nodded. “According to my calculation a year here equals about three hundred universal years.”
“What?” Shock suddenly made it difficult for