US (Formerly The After Effect - Book 2)

3 - Radio Star

A/N: this chapter may contain minor changes to the story as a whole, but note that this is the most recent. Enjoy ;)

What feels like days is merely hours. All throughout the night, the team of us remaining Five slave away at the control panel--me mostly observing and Stella mostly thinking--as the others attempt to receive the slightest fragment of a radio signal. Seven hours later, and we've gained no progress.

Brink is hunched over, ducked beneath one panel, fiddling with numerous wires. Sweat has formed along his jet black hair from all the pulling, twisting, and connecting he's done over the course of the night. Him and Zeriah have had to heave metal around and out of the way as well, and to my satisfaction, have done so as quietly as possible; no one has sprung awake from any of the noise they've created.

Stella sits at the captain's chair with her legs crossed politely, her face hard in thought. Her frustration has skyrocketed, but she's been able to control it--and the other's--using her abilities. If not for that, I'm sure Zeriah and Brink would've given up hours ago. I hate being so helpless, but I do all that I can to help the guys, though I favor Zeriah twice as much.

Apparently, during their time at HQs across the universe, Damon instilled knowledge within them, as well as gave them access to multiple databases and digital libraries which were free to use. Brink, however, was the only one who had to repair and work on the Programmables, which contain numerous wires; therefore, he chose to take charge with the radio signaling task. Zeriah mentioned he's only messed around with electrical components once in his life when a device of his on his home planet, Astor, went awry.

So you could say we have people with shoddy experience working at it, but I can't complain. With multi-colored wires everywhere, I just make sure I don't trip on any or accidentally tangle them somehow.

The lights on the ship gradually brighten, and I look to the others for an explanation when I see that no one has touched any buttons.

"They adjust to the sunrise and sunset," Stella says quietly. "Nifty, right?" Her words are cheery, but the emotion behind them is not. Her face is haggard and drained of life; a nap is one-hundred percent necessary. "But I'm not tired," she admits, clearing hearing my thoughts. "Thanks for the great image of how hideous I look, though," she adds.

I bite my lip hard, awkwardness creeping in. Her angst causes her sarcasm to turn borderline mocking, but I know she means well.

Note to self: Keep thoughts more guarded. You suck at it.

Like magic, bodies start shifting around on the ground and in seats like worms. The lights do the trick of waking most of them up, including Jada Malone and her brother, Tyson, who make their way over to us as soon as they're upright.

"What you got going on? Looks like mess to me," Jada comments the minute she walks over.

When Zeriah glares at her, I know he's hanging on to his last nerve.

"We're manufacturing a transmitter to locate the signal Travis mentioned," Brink says, his voice bitter. Clearly he wants Jada to back off.

Jada's deep brown eyes shape into slits which scream, "Do you have any idea what you're doing?" Luckily, she doesn't say that. "What the hell are you doing with all them wires?" she asks instead.

The palm of my hand hits my face.

Brink gets to his feet and stands over her, but he has no height over her brother, who's practically someone who belongs on a professional football or basketball team. The guy is huge, and his muscles proved worthy the day he captured me on Mars by shoving a sack over my face and dragging me to the revolutionary camp.