Lena Voss's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Lena pressed her palm to the sealed door. The new arrivals stood just behind it, and she could not reach them. Any second now the docking ring would open on the far side, and they would scatter into the station. She needed another way in. She backed away and studied the wall. A wide viewport ran beside the sealed door. Through the glass she saw the docking bay, and past it, the ship still nosed against the station. It was a huge aircraft, sleek wings folded tight, red engines dark under a bold striped hull. Its forward hatch had opened. A line of passengers filed down the ramp with bags and blinking eyes. Lena tapped the intercom panel beside the viewport. "Please, don't move on yet," she said. Her voice crackled through a speaker inside the bay. "I'm the station chaplain. I want to welcome each of you." They looked around, confused. They could hear her but not see her. In a moment they would drift off in every direction, and she would lose them. She needed them to look at one spot. Lena unpinned the sunflower from her jumpsuit and pressed it flat against the glass. She waved her free hand. "Here! Look here!" One passenger noticed. Large dark eyes turned toward the viewport. The alien had a small, careful mouth and stood a head shorter than the others. Zyx Orionis stepped closer to the glass, tilted their head, and lifted one hand in a slow greeting. The others followed Zyx's gaze. Soon a small crowd gathered at the window. Lena's heart lifted. She held up the sunflower and smiled her widest smile. "The chapel is on the upper ring," she said through the speaker. "We gather after the next bell. Everyone is welcome. I'll meet you there." Zyx pressed one long finger to the glass, right where the sunflower touched. Then they pointed up, toward the ring, and nodded. "Yes," Lena said. "Up there. Bring the others." Zyx turned to the crowd and made a sweeping motion toward the corridor exit. The passengers began to move as one group, not scattering, but following the small alien. Lena had lost the door, but she had not lost the people. She grabbed the sunflower and ran for the maintenance corridor. If she took the service stairs, she could reach the chapel before they did. Her congregation was coming. Then the speaker in the bay hissed and cut out. A different voice replaced hers, low and flat, piped through the same channel she had just used. "Ignore the chaplain," it said. "Report to processing on the lower deck." Lena froze in the corridor. Someone had been listening. Someone had watched her turn the crowd and had answered at once. Down in the bay, the passengers slowed and glanced between the viewport and the far exit, unsure now which way to go. She had won the greeting. But the person who sealed her out had just spoken for the first time.