The hologram glitches, my husband’s face fading in and out of focus.
“Nick, there’s — in the —. – have to eva— as – –sible. You – to –form ev—one.”
His ship reached Jupiter’s Ghost three hours ago and started processing the gas. He sounds frightened. What did he see? Did he have to evacuate?
We’re trying to establish if he launched a lifeboat. He isn’t too far away and we could send someone to retrieve him. I’m running diagnostics on the communication problem; it doesn’t make sense.
The lights blink and go out.
From the hologram, my husband’s whisper echoes in the dark, “Run.”
Eva Papasoulioti is a writer of speculative fiction and poetry. She lives in Athens, Greece, with her spouse and their two cats, and translates words for a living. Her work has appeared in Uncanny Magazine, Star*Line, Syntax & Salt, Polu Texni and elsewhere. You can find her on twitter @epapasoulioti and on her blog plothopes.com.
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