Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Simms had been staring at the screen for hours now. She could launch herself into a new round of Orinoco, make sure her bragging rights being at the top of the leaderboard stayed secure. Or she could start a new video for her mother. Except she had done both of those things recently. And with her two main activities taken care of, she was at a loss for what else to do. She needed something, though. Energy was bouncing around inside her with nowhere to go.

She should take a walk, get the blood pumping in her legs. Simms got out of her chair, stretching her limbs.

“Hey, Carter,” she checked in over the comms. “I'm going down to Bridge Ops. You dare me to sit in Stafford's chair?”

“Why would I do that?” he replied. “You'd do it even without the dare.”

“True.” She smiled, picturing the face he was likely making right now. He'd roll his eyes, but then he'd smile, shaking his head.

She was just kidding when she said she was going to Bridge Ops, but now that it was out in the air, why not? It was a fair distance from the crew quarters. Plenty of time to get some of the jittery restlessness crawling along her skin.

She could chalk up a lot of reasons for why she was feeling this way. Passing it off as boredom was the easiest answer, but that didn't make it the wrong one. Simms loved her work—the responsibility, the trust that the other crew members put in her and Carter—but it did get a little dull and repetitive after a while. When she wasn't doing checks on the pods, she didn't have much by way of actual work to occupy her. She and Carter had to make up other jobs to stay busy.

Speaking of their made-up jobs... “Carter, are you in Hydroponics?”

“At the moment, yes. Then I'll be headed down to the Pod Room. It's my turn to do the checks.”

Simms nodded absently, turning down the hallway that led to Bridge Ops. Eisele liked to call the place a maze, and it felt like one for the first few months. But now Simms knew the place so well she could practically walk it blindfolded. The only one who might know it better was Eisele herself, and Simms' competitive nature wouldn't mind putting it to the test.

The door slid up and Simms stepped inside the lower deck of Bridge Ops. Her fingers found the button to activate their mission projection. She must have watched it a hundred times already, at least, but it never got old. Tau Ceti f swelling large at the center, their ship snagged in its orbit. Young and Mitchell would be on the upper deck, in their chairs as Stafford and Eisele supervised.

I look forward to hearing about all your adventures. That was what Stafford wrote to her and Carter before going under. A nice sentiment from a good captain, but they all knew that the real adventure hadn't started yet. Any story to share from the last four years would pale in comparison to the moment everyone else got to work.

Watching. That was Simms' adventure. Watching them sleep. If she shared that, it might put them right back to sleep. No fluid required.

“Hey, Carter, I just thought up a joke.”

“I'm listening,” he responded, a cautious tone lacing through his words.

Simms opened her mouth to tell him, but then one of the monitors lit up. She walked over to get a better look. The computer was registering an anomaly out there. Simms typed in a command for a better read on it. They were supposed to be the only thing out here until they reached Tau Ceti f, so what had the computer found?

It spat out some calculations for her that took a minute to decipher. Good news: it didn't register as any kind of space debris. Bad news: it registered as anything at all.

“Simms?” Carter's voice startled her. “You still there?”

“Yeah...” At least half there, with the other half focused on the screen. She tapped in another command. If she could see whatever the computer saw...

“Did you change your mind about the joke?” Carter prompted.

“I... give me a minute.” She was denied the visual; didn't have the authorization. How about I just look out the window? Huffing, Simms went up into the cockpit. There was a small war going on inside her: wanting to see the anomaly, but worried about the implications that it was close enough to see with the naked eye.

“Are you playing Orinoco again?” Carter questioned her. His tone had shifted to amusement. “I thought you said you were going to Bridge Ops.”

Simms didn't answer; she was busy studying the open space in the cockpit. Nothing but emptiness on all sides, as expected. She sighed and headed back. She hoped the computers weren't malfunctioning. She and Carter had some basic training when it came to repairs and maintenance on the ship, but not enough to cover anything serious.

She would check the monitor one more time. When she got there, she was greeted with new information. The anomaly was still there, but they were closer to it now. And whatever it was, it was making the monitor go berserk. It was reading a gravitational field, but there was no detectable mass. Energy readings jumped like a racing heart.

Simms stared at the screen, her mouth open, her own brain jumping around in a panic. What was that?

She felt a shift under her feet as the ship was pulled out of its steady forward motion. Other monitors were lighting up around her, scrambling to bombard her with new data.

“Carter! Carter, we need to—” She stopped herself from finishing the sentence. Was it even safe to wake anyone now? “The Oracle,” she said instead. “We need to get to the Oracle!”

“Why?” He didn't sound nearly as alarmed as he should. Didn't he feel the ship changing course?

“We... we're going into... something!” Her eyes darted over the screen, silently begging it to make sense to her. Not a black hole, not a planet or an asteroid. Yet it was big enough to have a gravitational field, strong enough to snag their ship and pull it in.

Carter hadn't responded to her yet. Simms called for him, but all she got was garbled static. Whatever they were being sucked into was interfering with the comms now. Simms fought to keep her breathing even; the last thing she need to do now was panic.

The Oracle. She needed to get there and hope that it had a solution. She hurried to the door and ran down the corridor. Thank god for all that time she spent wandering around the decks! No hesitation on which way to turn, if she should take the stairs or continue through another door, if she had to go left or right.

The ship vibrated under her and her gravity boots lost power, sending her spiraling up to the ceiling. Simms shrieked, tucking her body in to reduce impact as she bumped against the wall. The lights flickered wildly. Simms got her hands against the wall and used it to pivot herself back so her feet were facing the ground. She guided herself over to a safe position before activating her boots again.

“Carter?” she checked.

“Yeah,” he answered, sounding out of breath. “You all right? Looks like we had a power fluctuation.”

“My gravity boots went out for a second,” Simms reported, taking a moment to catch her own breath. Her airway felt strangely narrow, and she had to cover a cough before continuing. “I'm fine.”

“Mine went out, too,” Carter confirmed. “I'm halfway to the Pod Room. Where are you?”

“Headed to the Oracle.”

“Good thinking. Keep me updated.”

Simms confirmed and continued on her way. If she could make one suggestion to Eisele for her next ship design, it would be to make shortcuts. It was a perfectly fine set-up, but it would be so much easier of Simms didn't have to go such an elaborate route to get to her destination. Go down through the crew quarters, across the atrium, Knight to E2.

Another vibration. This time Simms was ready for it, and she grabbed the hand rail by the stairs. There was no loss of power this time, just that small vibration. Like when Simms plucked one of the strings on her guitar. She waited a beat before pressing on. Gods, this ship was massive.

She made it to the atrium before the next vibration. They were coming in closer and closer. A strange blue light filled her vision. When it disappeared, it took all the other light with it.

Simms waited a beat, but it didn't come back on this time.

“Carter?” she tried. There was no response, not even static interference. She pulled up the message function and her blood curdled, cold in her veins.

Carter was offline.

– – –

“Carter!” Simms' voice was spiked with alarm over the comms. “Carter, we need to—” She must have changed her mind on what they needed to do halfway into her sentence. “The Oracle!” she decided. “We need to get to the Oracle!”

“Why?” he wondered. He had noticed a shift in the ship, but surely if it was a problem, they would have gotten an alert. When he didn't get an immediate answer from Simms, Carter tapped his comm and tried again. “Simms? Hello?”

Static. All right, that was a bit concerning. Going to the Oracle might not be a bad idea. Then another thought brushed across his brain, soothing him. Stick to procedure. Yes, that was the right move. He was already on his way to the Pod Room. He needed to stay on schedule.

Navigating around the Cassiopeia was almost a meditation exercise for him. There were few other ways of keeping focused and centered than winding down the various corridors and hallways.

The ship vibrated under him and his boots lost power mid-stride. His momentum propelled him forward, sailing him toward the next door. He instinctively raised his hands to acts as brakes before he made impact. The lights flickered; the door didn't automatically slide up as it should, and Carter bumped against it. He grabbed the doorway, using it as an anchor as he pulled his body back to the ground.

He clicked his boots back on, and a second later the door opened. He stepped through before it closed down on him.

“Carter?” Simms' worried voice crackled through the comms. They had a quick exchange confirming they were both okay.

That power fluctuation had Carter concerned for their sleepers. He picked up his pace in reaching the Pod Room. He was almost there when he felt another vibration through the ship. It made a strange, echoing sound in the air. Like music... Not like any music from where I'm from. Carter shook his head to clear his thoughts.

He entered the Pod Room and started going down the line. Vitals for Anders and Stafford were both in the green. That was some weight off his shoulders. They couldn't do this without their commander. Young and Mr. Williams were also cleared. More good news. They didn't lose their CEO, and one out of two pilots were okay. Next came the other pilot Mitchell, and Cernan.

There was another vibration. A strange tingling sensation passed through his body, followed up by a strange blue light. It filled the entire room, and then was gone. Leaving him in total darkness.

Metal creaked and groaned beside him, then a loud pop. Instinct kicked in and Carter reared back, curling in on himself to make a smaller target. Another flash of blue light filled his eyes, his body buzzing with that same tingling sensation. A pod door flew off across the room, spinning once before dropping to the ground. Not hitting any of the other pods, thank goodness.

Carter was given half a second to recover from the shock. Then the alarms started blaring.

“Warning! Warning! Critical pod failure!”

“I know!” Carter shouted back. He slammed his hand over the flashing screen to shut it up.

Cernan! It was Cernan's pod door that had blown off! Carter hurried to his side. The terminal next to the pod had gone dark. He would have to perform all vital checks manually. It was a good thing he and Simms trained thoroughly and he had medical knowledge to fall back on. He pressed his fingers under Cernan's jaw. It was the easier spot to feel for a pulse.

Cernan's skin felt hot to the touch. Too hot, maybe. Carter would worry about possible fevers later. The beat pressing back against his fingers was a little fast, but it was there. A check of Cernan's chest showed a rise and fall.

“Breathing and pulse confirmed,” Carter said out loud. “Looks like you're still with us,” he told Cernan. He tapped into his comms. A loud screech of feedback assaulted his ear; he yanked it out, shaking.

His utility strap wasn't working, either. No matter what function he tried to pull up, he got no response. It was basically a useless armband. Whatever that blue light was must have caused it. But how?

Carter raked his fingers through his hair. He was starting to feel hot. Not sick; Carter knew what that felt like. Just hot, and a little tired. He should wake Cooper.

Another thought swept over him. It's time for your medication. But that was all the way in his quarters, and he couldn't leave Cernan.

Carter leaned against the broken pod. Somehow, their mission had gone horribly wrong.

What were they going to do now?

Chapter Text

This dream was different from the others; he never found himself on the Cassiopeia before. Cernan was dressed in his crew uniform and walking through Hydroponics with Stafford, the wedge tool gripped in his hand. Large glass tubes filled with plants flanked them on both sides.

The door opened behind him. When Cernan turned, he saw... himself. This other him was also holding a wedge tool. Cernan could only stand in shock as the other version crossed the room, the tool crackling with menace at his side. A chill ran down Cernan's spine looking at the copy's face.

There was something empty in this other Cernan's face, a ruthless detachment. He only had moments to absorb this before the other Cernan jammed the wedge tool directly into his chest.

Cernan felt the electricity slice through him, burning his veins. It dug in, building higher and higher, blinding him in blue light. Cernan screamed, pushing the energy out of him. There was a sudden rush of air in his lungs, and a loud clang of a heavy, metallic object striking the ground.

“Looks like you're still with us.”

Carter?

Was he awake? His body felt stiff, but aware, the pod's cushions cradling his back and exposed limbs. Cernan opened his eyes, blinking past the spots that blinded his vision. His ears were ringing and his body felt too warm. Where was the door to his pod? His eyes darted around, frantically trying to make sense of these pieces.

They landed on a figure standing beside him. The face hovering above him was a comforting, familiar sight. The angles of his jaw, the slope of his nose, dark eyes gentle. Carter's brows pinched together, expression tight with worry. His fingers were pressed to Cernan's throat, just under his jaw; Cernan felt it with every beat of his heart.

“Carter?”

Carter's expression cleared and he let out a sigh of relief, hand dropping to squeeze Cernan's shoulder.

“So glad to see you awake.”

“What's happening?"

“I'm not sure. Try to take it easy. Your pod suffered a malfunction. Follow my finger with your eyes, please.” Cernan obeyed: up, down, left right. “Can you move your fingers and toes?” He did so, distracted by the buzzing sensation still moving along his flesh. It was no longer painful, but if it had been part of his dream, it should have faded by now.

He took in the rest of the room. It was too dark; only the emergency lights were on, their weak glow throwing shadows over the space. Had the ship been damage? Did they lose power? Alarm shot through him and Cernan sat up.

“Slow down,” Carter chided him with a gentle push against his chest.

“There's something wrong with the lights,” Cernan argued.

“I know, but the pod malfunction caused you to be pulled out of hypersleep too quickly. If you push too hard, you might hurt yourself.” Somehow, Carter made his voice calm and soothing, while weighing it with enough firm authority that there was no room to argue.

Cernan let out a sigh and rested back on the pod cushions.

“Better,” Carter nodded. “Now, one at a time: lift your arms, and then your legs.” Cernan obediently went through the motions. “All right, that looks good. Let's get you on your feet.” He held out his hand, doing a twist of the wrist to offer it palm up.

That motion gave Cernan a sense of déjà vu. Where had he seen it before? It was just on the edge of his mind, like a memory buried deep in his mind or the faded remnants of a dream. Cernan pushed it aside and took Carter's hand. It was a steadying warmth against Cernan's skin. Carter's hand tightened around his, arm muscle flexing as he helped pull Cernan out of the pod.

On instinct, Cernan reached out with his other hand to steady himself on the side of the pod. He expected to float, but to his bewilderment, his bare feet touched the cold floor.

“We've got gravity?”

“Yes,” Carter confirmed, letting his hand slip free from Cernan, “and a good thing, too.” Carter nodded meaningfully off to the side. Cernan looked, and found a big slab of metal lying on the ground.

“Is... is that my pod door?” He threw Carter an exasperated but also amused look. Malfunction, indeed.

“I didn't want to alarm you,” Carter defended. “How are you feeling, by the way? Any dizziness, pain?”

“No.” Cernan lifted his hand to his throat, sliding his thumb and forefinger over the Dharma Wheel that hung close to his heart. It anchored him, helping him focus his thoughts. “I feel... strange. Like there's a current flowing through my body.” He wasn't sure if mentioning his dream would be productive.

“I have the same feeling,” Carter nodded. For a brief moment, his calm expression cracked and he looked lost, uncertain. “One... problem at a time,” he said, his voice straining for that soothing steadiness he had just moments ago. “I need to check on the others. Will you be all right?”

“Yes, go ahead.” Cernan watched with concern as Carter turned his attention to Mitchell's pod. He waited for Carter to move down the line to the next two pods before moving himself.

Resting one hand on his broken pod, Cernan shuffled his feet forward. His legs were a little stiff, and the tingling sensation along the bottoms of his feet was as expected from a recent return of circulation. After a few more steps it faded, leaving him only with that other tingling sensation. Whatever it was, at least it wasn't unpleasant.

Cernan made it to the wrecked pod door. He knelt to get a closer look. Its sides were bent, the top that connected to the pod cleanly torn. He mentally calculated the force necessary to pull the door off and toss it across the room. The number made him lightheaded. To think something that powerful had occurred inches from his unconscious body.

“All the other pods are working,” Carter reported.

“Why did mine... malfunction?”

“Simms and I will run diagnostics on it.” There was a pause, and Carter's expression pinched. “She was supposed to go to the Oracle, but there's something wrong with my comms unit and utility strap.”

“Let me try,” Cernan offered. He tapped into his comms unit first. “Simms, do you read? This is Cernan.” A screech of feedback dug into his ear. Flinching, he tugged the device out and tried his utility strap instead. The screen was dead.

Their eyes met. Cernan had never seen Carter so wide-eyed and panicked. It was unnerving.

“Carter,” he said gently, “will you help me? I need you to wake someone.”

– – –

Anders felt weight slowly lifting off her body as it was drawn out of hypersleep. She opened her eyes, blinking at the clear shielding of her pod. She heard Carter's voice running through her vitals. There was something off about his voice, an unsteadiness. Then again, she wasn't familiar with this crew. Maybe that waver in his voice was normal.

Her eyes focused, giving a clear view of him in his uniform. His expression was strained, like he was forcing himself through the motions.

“Good morning, Anders,” he greeted. “Will you look up for me, please?” His voice was still off. He was making such an effort to sound calm and soothing. It nagged at her, but she followed his directions. “Vision is clear,” Carter confirmed. “Let's get you out of there.”

There was a hiss of compressed air as the pod door was opened, lifting away from her. She sat up, looking around in growing confusion. It looked like only one other pod was opened. That was wrong; shouldn't the flight crew have woken first? Then she got a better look, and her confusion spiked into alarm. That pod wasn't open. Its door had been torn clean off!

“What the hell is going on?”

“We don't know.” Carter offered his hand to her. The moment her fingers touched his skin, she felt a sharp jolt. She flinched and pulled her hand back. “Are you all right?” Carter asked, brows knitting in concern.

“Static charge,” she said, almost to herself. She flexed her fingers.

“That's why I woke you. The ship has been experiencing odd power fluctuations and we need your help understanding the data. I have your crew uniform by your pod, but first: how do you feel?”

“Confused,” Anders answered dryly. That got his lip to twitch into a faint smile. “I'm all right, Carter,” she assured him.

“Go on and get dressed, then, before Cernan wears a hole in the floor.”

“I really need to get the lights fixed,” came a response. Anders followed the sound with her eyes, spotting Cernan pacing on the far side of the room. He had already changed into his crew uniform, his hair frazzled in a terrible case of bed-head.

“And I really need for us to have working comms and utility straps so we can stay in contact,” Carter retorted in exasperation.

Anders bit the inside of her cheek, deciding it was best not to get involved in what was clearly an argument already in progress. She ducked away to get changed. As an experiment, she tapped into her utility strap. It only showed Simms as an active user, though she was currently offline. Back in the pod room, the two men were more or less how she left them. The only change was Carter had pulled the hood up on his uniform, throwing his face in shadows.

“Right.” Anders turned to Cernan. “What's this about power fluctuations?”

“I'll show you.” He crossed over to the monitors, Anders close behind. “I pulled up all the data on the last few hours of our flight. Everything looks normal to me until we reach this point.”

Anders leaned in, pursing her lips. The readings made no sense to her. She understood them, they just didn't look right. Granted, she didn't have much time to be briefed on the mission, but she was fairly sure their trajectory wasn't supposed to take them into any gravitational fields until they reached Tau Ceti f. She tapped in a few commands.

A gravitational field with no physical mass. But if it had been a black hole, they would've been crushed. Aside from two unusual power readings—one quick blackout and one surge—their ship was unharmed. She was still waking up, but she could feel her brain working it out.

A memory of driving through a tunnel rose in her mind. She had been sitting in the back seat of her parents' car, reading on her tablet. Inside the tunnel, her screen had lost connection. It was brief, quickly reconnecting once they were on the other side.

A tunnel in space. Was that possible? Space was so vast and even with all of mankind's advances, still largely unexplored. Anders knew better than to dismiss anything. Though how the Charybdis probe could have missed it, she didn't know. Her thoughts turned to her predecessor. Would he have caught this before the launch? Warned the team?

“Do you see anything?” Cernan asked her.

“Bear in mind that this phenomenon has only been discussed as a theoretical,” she prefaced. “I don't feel comfortable making a definitive at this moment, but... based on the data I see here...” She braced herself. Thank god it was just just Cernan and Carter hearing this. She didn't know them, but from what little Cooper told her, they were more likely to be open-minded.

“I think,” Anders went on, “we're going through a wormhole.”

Chapter Text

Carter pulled up the hood of his uniform so he could concentrate. His lips formed around the next steps he needed to take, trying to anchor him in the certainty of procedure. He was having trouble focusing; he had already broken away from all his training when he woke a member of the science team before the flight crew. His skin crackled with strange, pent-up energy.

It's time for your medication. He needed to stay here and monitor the rest of the sleepers. It was his duty. Cernan might still experience a negative side-effect. He couldn't leave.

The crackling grew stronger. His thoughts bounced from one thing to another. Procedure, protocol. One problem at a time. Do your duty. What was that? What was he supposed to do? He couldn't think of the next step. Carter's muscles coiled tight against his body. It was building, building, crashing in. None of it was right. His brain ticked down the hours until orbit. Did that even matter now? What would happen if they missed it? He needed to wake the others. They depended on him. Why couldn't he remember the next step?

Then, something snapped, and Carter felt the energy push out of his body in shimmering blue waves. The sleeper pods rattled dangerously, and Cernan's pod door scraped across the floor. Carter collapsed to his hands and knees, panting for breath. He felt too hot and yet he couldn't stop shaking from the adrenaline rush. He blinked at the blue light still crackling around him.

“Carter, are you all right?” Cernan called out.

“What the hell was that?!” Anders cried out at the same moment.

Carter carefully pushed into a sitting position. He stared at his hands, flexing his fingers in wonder. The blue light was dancing along his body, covering both flesh and clothing. He caught movement approaching him and tugged his hood off. It was Cernan, the engineer's face wide with shock as he stared down at Carter.

“Carter, you... you're glowing,” he breathed.

“I was...” Carter cut himself off. The moment had passed, and he didn't want to worry anyone. “That was just like the blue light earlier,” he said instead. “Were any of the pods damaged?”

“I don't think so.” Cernan offered his hand to help Carter up. Carter reached for him, but something stopped his hand from touching Cernan's. Cernan's lips pulled into a frown. “That feels almost solid.”

“It isn't painful.” Carter helped himself up. Whatever the blue light was, he could still move freely while it surrounded him.

“All right,” Anders spoke up. “I really think we need to start waking everyone else.”

“I don't know if that's safe,” Carter argued. He held up his hands to show her the glow wrapped around his skin. “I can't touch anything in here until we know what this is and how it might affect the pods.”

“Well, I don't know how wake anyone,” Anders said with an impatient sigh, “and I can't contact Simms. So what do you suggest we do?”

As if to answer her question, the door to the Pod Room slid open. Carter glanced over, half expecting Simms to walk through. Instead, a small robot rolled its way inside. Carter couldn't help smiling a little seeing it. Simms had named them Roombas in honor of the old robots they were modeled after.

“Please forgive the delay.” They all startled hearing the Oracle's voice coming out of the Roomba. “Simms and I have been busy working on a solution to our technical issues. She is currently monitoring the ship's progress in Bridge Ops and has sent me to assist in the wake up procedures.”

The three of them were too stunned to react at first. Simms had broken away from the demanded protocol. Carter was grateful for the blue light; it was acting almost like a barrier, its constant warmth and glow keeping his mind from spiraling again.

“Why didn't she come herself?” he asked.

“Bridge Ops requires manual control,” the Oracle responded.

“That's great,” Anders said, rubbing a spot on her temple. “Can we please wake someone who can make sense of this?”

“We should start with Eisele,” Carter decided. “She knows the wake-up procedures.” He felt more focused now that they had a clear goal. All the necessary steps fell into place in his mind. “Anders, will you help gather everyone's uniforms? Cernan, help me with that door.” The two nodded and got to work, Cernan following Carter over to the door.

“Oracle, do you know why we have gravity?” Anders asked.

“The wormhole appears to have affected various areas of the ship, including the simulation of gravity.”

Carter tried to tune the conversation out, wanting to focus on lifting the door. He and Cernan positioned themselves on opposite ends. They bent their knees to brace for the weight of it, but just before either of them could get their hands on it, the door flared up in blue light. Carter threw up his hands and backed away.

“I'm not doing that!”

“No,” Cernan agreed in a tight voice. “I think I am.”

His eyes were wide, his body glowing with the same blue light. Even his eyes were glowing. Is that how I look? Carter wondered, staring at the other man in awe. Cernan's hand shook as he lifted it up an inch; the door lifted at the same moment.

“Oh, my god,” Carter gaped.

The two men stared at each other. Fear and confusion flashed between them, but also, a kind of thrill. Whatever this was, it was happening to them both.

– – –

Williams had mastered the art of waking up clueless. Step one: opening his eyes slowly while keeping his expression neutral. Step two: wait patiently while Carter or Simms performed all the routine checks. Step three: ease himself out of his pod and listen as the sleep technicians tell him they were in orbit. Step four: change clothes and slip away while everyone was busy and get the latest updates from Earth.

He opened his eyes and found Simms standing in front of his pod. A little unusual for her to be in charge of wake-up, but nothing to concern himself with. Honestly, he paid little attention to what the two sleep technicians did each cycle. Their only function was to take care of the rest of the crew until they reached Tau Ceti f.

“Good morning, Mr. Williams,” Simms greeted him.

“Good morning,” he replied. So far, so good. She confirmed his vitals were good and opened his pod.

Looking around, he saw he was the last one to wake. That irritated him; he preferred being with the flight crew, so he could be awake when they released the ship from the booster ring. But it was even worse than it first appeared. He wasn't just the last one to wake. He was the last one in the Pod Room.

“Where is everybody?” he asked.

“The flight crew is in Bridge Ops,” Simms answered as she opened his pod. “Anders is in the Oracle's chamber. Everyone else is in Medical.”

“What? Why?” Alarm spiked. Had they already encountered the life form? If so, Simms was being remarkably calm about it. Unless this isn't Simms. That would be a new variable.

“We've had a busy few hours,” was her answer.

Williams gritted his teeth. This was why he didn't like being last: he felt like he was playing catch-up. He pushed himself out of the pod, startling when he moved with the regular force of Earth standard gravity.

“Aren't we supposed to be in zero-G?”

“That's one of the things Anders is working on with the Oracle,” Simms told him. “Though if I'm being honest, it's pretty low priority.”

“How is that low priority?” And what was his OG thinking, approving this crew? Having gravity meant they landed on the surface. How could they have left him in hyper-sleep this long?

“The simulation of gravity does not pose any risk to the crew or ship, Mr. Williams.”

Williams was starting to get a headache. He looked around, but didn't see any of the monitors lit up. Instead, his eyes landed on one of those disk-shaped robots. They probably did something on the ship, but it wasn't relevant to the experiment.

“Did that thing just use the Oracle's voice?”

“Like I said,” Simms said with a forced smile, “it's been a busy few hours. I have your uniform waiting by your pod if you'd like to get dressed.”

He mutely grabbed the folded pile and stalked out of the room. This cycle was already getting out of hand. He needed to get things back on track. Once he was dressed, Williams headed to his private office and tried linking in to his channel with Earth. It usually connected quickly, but this time nothing happened.

“Oracle, what's wrong with my channel?”

“We have lost the signal to Earth, Mr. Williams.”

“Can you work on reestablishing that?”

“I'm afraid that is currently not possible.”

Williams was definitely developing a headache. “Why is that?”

“Because, Mr. Williams,” the Oracle responded, “I am unable to detect Earth from our current position.”

Williams sat bolt-up in his chair. His heart raced. Not once in any of the cycles had that ever happened before.

“Are you telling me that we lost Earth?”

“To be precise, Mr. Williams, we are lost. Our trajectory no longer has us on route to Tau Ceti f.”

“Did the life form get on the ship and change our course?” he asked, unable to contain his excitement. This was new; this was big!

“There are no foreign life forms on board,” the Oracle replied, instantly killing his enthusiasm.

He wiped a hand down his face. This cycle was a bust. No new data to collect on the life form, and he couldn't even reach Earth to tell them about being pulled off course. How was his OG supposed to know what to prep for in the next cycle?

He just had to hope this crew had enough competence to clean up this mess.