From: Issue 2 | Subscribe | Buy
I always sleep like a rock when weightless, but some alarms will wake an asteroid. The alarms in my ship, The Hard Quarry, work admirably.
I jerk alert with my arms flailing and my heart rate cresting 150—which triggers another, quieter alarm. “Calm down, Hollie,” my comp says, playing soothing sounds.
“Fuck you, too.” I shout back. Until I focus on which light blinks.