Ouroboros 3: Repeat Read Online Free
Author: Odette C. Bell
Tags: Science-Fiction, adventure, Space Opera, Time travel, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Exploration, Space Exploration
closed behind the retreating Travis, and Carson was alone.
Alone.
Immediately he pushed back from the bench, brought his hands up, and buried his face in them.
He dug the fingers hard into his brow as tears streaked from his eyes, collecting over his palms.
He didn’t remain like that for long though; all too soon, he brought his hands down in a violent swipe, cried out loud, and shook his head.
This couldn’t be happening.
It was as if history had been rewritten.
That thought sunk through him with all the force of someone tying an anchor to his throat.
He brought a hand up and patted his neck, but all too quickly, the move became violent again as frustration surged within. He clenched his hand into a fist, brought it around, and slammed it hard into the top of his couch. Though the fabric was yielding, his move was strong, and he made it right down to the hard backing.
The couch buckled backwards, and actually fell, taking a section of his coffee table with it.
He stood back, considering the destruction he’d just wrought, then whirled on his foot, brought his hands around, and slammed them onto his bench.
It shook under his volley, and he brought his hands up, and slammed them down again.
Any more of this, and he would either pull the bench and all of its fixtures from the wall, or he would break his hand.
But he didn’t stop.
He just took several steps backwards, closed his eyes, strode into the centre of the room, and screamed at the top of his lungs.
He was suddenly more than thankful of the fact that all Galactic Coalition Academy apartments were soundproof.
If anyone heard what he was saying right now, if they saw what he was doing, if they realised how unstable he was, he would be back in the med bay immediately.
People were already concerned. But they couldn’t possibly understand what Carson was really going through.
It took a long time for him to calm down, and even then, he could hardly classify himself as calm. But at least he stopped violently redecorating his apartment.
Instead he stalked over to his couch, pulled it upright in one neat move, and sat on it heavily. Resting his elbows hard into his knees, he propped his chin on his hands, and he stared out at the view. His eyes were wide, his gaze dead.
He had no idea what to do.
Should he go back to Remus 12?
Back to the tunnels? If Nida really had been there, and he had simply missed her, he knew the Orion would not have. Its sophisticated scanners would have picked up the presence of another life sign, especially human.
So what options did that leave him?
Could he contact the entity?
He doubted it. Only Nida could do that, and wherever she was, the entity was with her.
So he just sat there, rocking back and forth, that dead gaze continually locked on the view. Eventually the morning gave way to midday, then afternoon, then night.
He didn’t move. He felt and was immobilised by indecision. By surprise.
Whilst travelling through time and arriving on Vex in the past had proven to Carson that time travel was possible, he wanted to believe that what was happening now wasn’t. Because this was terrifying.
Had he somehow changed history?
When Nida had opened the time gate, had she altered the present? Or worse, had Carson’s actions in the past changed the timeline?
Was this his fault?
He suddenly sat back, pushing his lips together in a powerful frown as he held back tears. Resting into his couch, he brought a hand up and pushed it over his eyes.
He had to think. He had to do something. He couldn’t waste the entire day sitting there on his couch staring at the view and waiting for a solution to burst through his sorrow.
‘ Come on,’ he begged himself. ‘Figure it out.’
Just as those words flew from his lips, an idea struck him.
Her file.
He could look up Cadet Nida Harper’s file. Heck, he could look up his own file. If his life really had changed, if the time he had arrived in was not the time he had once left,
Alone.
Immediately he pushed back from the bench, brought his hands up, and buried his face in them.
He dug the fingers hard into his brow as tears streaked from his eyes, collecting over his palms.
He didn’t remain like that for long though; all too soon, he brought his hands down in a violent swipe, cried out loud, and shook his head.
This couldn’t be happening.
It was as if history had been rewritten.
That thought sunk through him with all the force of someone tying an anchor to his throat.
He brought a hand up and patted his neck, but all too quickly, the move became violent again as frustration surged within. He clenched his hand into a fist, brought it around, and slammed it hard into the top of his couch. Though the fabric was yielding, his move was strong, and he made it right down to the hard backing.
The couch buckled backwards, and actually fell, taking a section of his coffee table with it.
He stood back, considering the destruction he’d just wrought, then whirled on his foot, brought his hands around, and slammed them onto his bench.
It shook under his volley, and he brought his hands up, and slammed them down again.
Any more of this, and he would either pull the bench and all of its fixtures from the wall, or he would break his hand.
But he didn’t stop.
He just took several steps backwards, closed his eyes, strode into the centre of the room, and screamed at the top of his lungs.
He was suddenly more than thankful of the fact that all Galactic Coalition Academy apartments were soundproof.
If anyone heard what he was saying right now, if they saw what he was doing, if they realised how unstable he was, he would be back in the med bay immediately.
People were already concerned. But they couldn’t possibly understand what Carson was really going through.
It took a long time for him to calm down, and even then, he could hardly classify himself as calm. But at least he stopped violently redecorating his apartment.
Instead he stalked over to his couch, pulled it upright in one neat move, and sat on it heavily. Resting his elbows hard into his knees, he propped his chin on his hands, and he stared out at the view. His eyes were wide, his gaze dead.
He had no idea what to do.
Should he go back to Remus 12?
Back to the tunnels? If Nida really had been there, and he had simply missed her, he knew the Orion would not have. Its sophisticated scanners would have picked up the presence of another life sign, especially human.
So what options did that leave him?
Could he contact the entity?
He doubted it. Only Nida could do that, and wherever she was, the entity was with her.
So he just sat there, rocking back and forth, that dead gaze continually locked on the view. Eventually the morning gave way to midday, then afternoon, then night.
He didn’t move. He felt and was immobilised by indecision. By surprise.
Whilst travelling through time and arriving on Vex in the past had proven to Carson that time travel was possible, he wanted to believe that what was happening now wasn’t. Because this was terrifying.
Had he somehow changed history?
When Nida had opened the time gate, had she altered the present? Or worse, had Carson’s actions in the past changed the timeline?
Was this his fault?
He suddenly sat back, pushing his lips together in a powerful frown as he held back tears. Resting into his couch, he brought a hand up and pushed it over his eyes.
He had to think. He had to do something. He couldn’t waste the entire day sitting there on his couch staring at the view and waiting for a solution to burst through his sorrow.
‘ Come on,’ he begged himself. ‘Figure it out.’
Just as those words flew from his lips, an idea struck him.
Her file.
He could look up Cadet Nida Harper’s file. Heck, he could look up his own file. If his life really had changed, if the time he had arrived in was not the time he had once left,