best kind of wrench in the entire Universal Alliance.”
“Does that mean you don't know how to use it?” said Zingfree in alarm. “Because if you don't—”
“I do,” said Galaxy, looking up quickly. She clutched the Magna wrench to her chest. “It's just … wow. This is some pretty cool stuff.”
“Use whatever you need,” said Zingfree, gesturing at the tools laid out as he began to make his way out of the room. “I will send Jeff to fetch you at mealtimes.”
But Galaxy didn't hear him. She was too busy examining the holospheres, both the damaged and undamaged one, and becoming ecstatic when she realized, just after a cursory glance of the damaged one, that she would likely have to use all of the tools in that toolbox to repair the damaged one.
And that made her smile so much that she was glad no one could see her face right now.
-
As Galaxy predicted, the holosphere took more than a day to repair. Her laser had almost completely fried the circuitry, specifically the projector, and she almost drove herself crazy trying to repair it. It didn't help that Zingfree barely had any spare parts on board that she could use.
Jeff was not much help, either. Sure, he clearly knew how to repair a starship, but he seemed to know absolutely nothing about how to repair holospheres. At various random times throughout the day, he would come to check on Galaxy, often when she didn't expect him to. That he was so silent made his occasional visits that much more disturbing to her.
Zingfree was worse, though. He visited her almost hourly, demanding to know how close she was to being done. Every time, she had to reassure him that she was still not ready and that it would likely be a while before she was done. He reminded her so much of Space, except more demanding, which made her wonder if artistic types like that were all the same,
Then again, that wasn't very surprising. Zingfree couldn't film his holofilm without the holospheres, after all. Galaxy supposed it would be like asking her to build a starship without metal; a possible feat, but so impractical as to be impossible.
Galaxy considered contacting Space and Sparky to let them know where she was, but she decided against it, because she was in no real trouble and she really didn't want Space to come down here to argue with Zingfree about his holofilms. She also considered contacting them to see if they had a holosphere projector on board the Adventure somewhere, but again she decided not to, as she doubted they had one on board.
The next day was much the same as the last. More Jeff, more Zingfree, and little progress on the holosphere. She spent hours at a time on it, but she soon realized that she would have to give up. There was no way she could repair the holosphere with the equipment she had on hand, despite how great it was. She would have to tell Zingfree that he would need to buy a new holosphere projector from a company that built them or take it to someone who knew how to repair holospheres.
At least, that is logically what she should have done. Galaxy would never admit it to anyone, but she could be as stubborn as hell. When she chose to do something, she'd do it even if it was impossible. And secretly, she liked it better than collecting rocks, anyway, even though she knew that she needed to collect rocks so she and Space could get some more money to buy fuel and supplies for their ship.
As it turned out, she didn't need to worry about contacting Space because he contacted her. It was shortly after lunch, when she was just sitting down to begin work on the holosphere again, that her com-watch beeped loudly. She glanced at it and saw Space's face staring up at her, with the words 'JASON SPACE' blinking up at her. She wondered if she could ignore it, but decided against it. They were probably worried for her, because she had not called them in a day.
Knowing Space's imagination, he probably thinks I'm trapped underneath a pile of rock, probably from a rock slide, and am heroically hanging on by sheer willpower alone even as my air supply leaks out minute by agonizing minute, Galaxy thought.
Sighing, Galaxy tapped the com-watch and said, “Space, I—”
“Galaxy!” said Space's voice over the com-watch, loud enough to make her cringe. “Where are you? Sparky and I have been worried sick! Are you currently trapped underneath a pile of rock, perhaps from a rock slide, and are heroically hanging on through sheer willpower alone even as your air supply leaks out minute by agonizing minute?”
Galaxy blinked. “No. I'm actually inside a rather comfortable starship that has plenty of air and food. I've used maybe five percent of my own oxygen supplies so far, if even that much.”
“Oh,” said Space, who sounded disappointed for some reason. “Wait, a starship? What are you talking about?”
Galaxy quickly filled Space in on Zingfree and the holosphere. She could not see Space's expression, only the still image of his face on her com-watch, but somehow she could tell even without him saying a word that he was deeply unimpressed.
“Zingfree Drifle, eh?” said Space after Galaxy finished. “He's a hack and all his movies are overrated.”
Galaxy rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Look, I'm going to probably be down here a bit longer because I promised I would rebuild his holosphere for him. He threatened me with legal action if I didn't.”
Space made an annoyed grunt. “Well, you better hurry up quick.”
“Why?” said Galaxy. “It's not like we have anywhere to be, right?”
“That's not what I mean,” said Space. “See, the Adventure's sensors have picked up a pretty large meteor heading toward Magna Five. It's big—probably even bigger than our ship—and according to Sparky's calculations, it should impact in twelve hours.”
Galaxy leaned forward on the work bench, propping her chin up in her other hand. “Yeah, so what? Meteors strike Magna Five all the time. That's why some people call it Meteo.”
“Thing is,” said Space, with more than a hint of fear in his voice, “the meteor's trajectory is … well, Sparky says that unless the meteor is intercepted or stopped, it will crash directly into Zingfree's ship.”
Galaxy's hands felt cold. “Wait … are you saying …”
“That if you don't get the hell out of there right now, you'll be blown into smithereens very soon?” said Space. “That's exactly what I am saying. And I don't like it, either.”
Galaxy gulped. “Sparky's calculations can't be right, can they? I mean, surely he made a mistake.”
“No mistake,” said Space. “Ran his calculations by the ship's computers and they confirmed it. I'm not too good with math, but even I can tell he's probably right.”
“Well, do something about that meteor, then,” said Galaxy. “Use the ship's cannons to blow it off course.”
“We'll try,” said Space. “But I can't guarantee we'll actually succeed. The meteor is moving pretty fast and we can't get a lock on it. It would be better for you to come back to the ship so we can leave it.”
“Beam me aboard, then,” said Galaxy. “I'm actually not having a lot of luck with the holosphere and in fact was about to tell Zingfree to hire someone else to do the job instead.”
“You know the teleporter doesn't work if you're inside a building or ship,” said Space. “You need to get out of Zingfree's ship if you want us to teleport you off the planet.”
Galaxy sighed. “That's right. How could I forget? Very well. I'll go tell Zingfree as well so he can get off planet before the meteor strikes. Talk to you in a couple of hours.”
She turned the com-watch off and stood up from the work bench. She turned around and was surprised (though not as surprised as she might have been) to see Jeff standing in the doorway. His dull golden eyes, as usual, were focused on her. She wondered how long he had been standing there and how much he had heard, but then decided it wasn't important.
Stepping over the bench she sat on, Galaxy said, “Jeff, good to see you. I just got a call from my friend Space about a meteor that's going to strike this exact spot where this ship is located. He's going to try and knock it off course, but in the event that he doesn't, Zingfree needs to know that we have to l
eave right now.”
Jeff scratched his short beard. “I'm aware of it.”
“You are?” said Galaxy. “Then go and tell Zingfree that I couldn't fix his holosphere and that he might need to buy a new one. You should also tell him to either move off Magna Five entirely or to another part where the meteor won't strike.”
Jeff planted his feet in the doorway and folded his arms. “No.”
Galaxy looked at him in disbelief. “Excuse me? Did you just say 'no'?”
“Yes,” said Jeff, nodding. “Mr. Drifle doesn't need to know about the meteor. Otherwise, he might survive.”
“You make that sound like a bad thing,” said Galaxy. “I mean, I don't like Zingfree much myself, but—”
“But he doesn't need to survive, now does he?” said Jeff. His Southern accent no longer sounded quite as cute as it did before. “Naw. He can go on about his stupid holofilms right up until the moment that meteor incinerates him.”
Galaxy's eyes widened. “Jeff, what the hell? You sound like you want Zingfree to die.”
“Of course I do,” said Jeff, leaning against the frame of the door. “'Course, if you got out of this hold, then you could warn him about the impending meteor and he'd have plenty of time to get off. Can't have that, so see you later, girl. If you survive, that is.”
The exit closed in front of Jeff. Galaxy raced over to the door and began banging on it, but it wouldn't open. She looked for the