The only sound is my feet pounding on the track as I push harder, determined to beat my record. I turn the last corner, looking ahead at the line on the hot rubber. It gets closer and closer until it glides past my body, and I stop the time.
4:51. One mile. I've done better, but in different pressure zones. This is great.
After a short walk around the track, I sit down and reach for my water bottle, but as I do so, I hear a loud sound erupt, like bombs exploding in my ears.
The emergency alarm.
Something's wrong. I jump up and run as fast as I can towards the nearest launch field. A feat not easily accomplished after an intense workout, but the alarm keeps me going.
Everyone knows that the Emergency Alarm means a planet evacuation, usually due to gas leaks, oil spills, and all other manners of terrible hazards. These are common on Port Planets like ours, where we power a Ship Port through a large generator. Under normal circumstances, everyone can make it out on time, but these aren't normal circumstances. I'm not supposed to be on the track.
I can see the first ships taking off from the closest launch field, and try to run faster, to no avail. I start to count off the ships, one, two, three, four. That's almost half. Six and seven. If I can just get there on time. But I know it's hopeless. I've been left behind, and it's my fault. All the warnings my friends gave me, telling me not to go out during off hours, but I still do. And now it will be the death of me.
ns 15.158.61.16da2
