Nina and Robo follow a strange rescue signal to the abandoned Hangar Seven, where something long forgotten is waiting in the dark.
Nina had claimed the wide windowsill in the Orion station’s observation deck as her private territory. From there, the universe looked close enough to touch: stars scattered like spilled sugar, meteors streaking past in silver flashes, and the curve of Earth glowing far below. She still missed rain, trees, and the thud of dogs running down a hallway. But she had Robo.
Robo was built by her dad, and he was unlike any other robot on the station. He could somersault in zero gravity, whistle old Earth songs, and read Nina’s moods with uncanny accuracy. When she was bored, he invented games. When she was annoyed, he told terrible jokes. Tonight, though, Nina was too excited to need cheering up.
They were heading for Hangar Seven, the oldest and most neglected part of the station. Most crew members avoided it. The place had been sealed for years, tucked behind a maze of narrow corridors, storage bays, and quiet labs. Nina had studied the station maps until she could almost draw them from memory, but Hangar Seven always felt like a blank spot where the station stopped talking.
“Ready?” Nina whispered.
Robo’s blue eyes brightened. “Adventure mode activated.”
They packed a torch, an emergency battery, and a packet of dried fruit, then slipped away through the sleeping station. Past the hydroponics room. Past the astronomer’s booth with its walls of blinking charts. Past a service tunnel that hummed softly beneath their feet. By the time they reached the hangar, Nina’s heartbeat was thudding louder than their footsteps.
The doors stood before them, huge and rust-streaked, sealed under a layer of dust so thick it looked painted on. Robo lifted one antenna and froze.
“Nina,” he said, his voice suddenly thin. “I’m receiving a signal.”
Nina frowned. “From where?”
“Inside Hangar Seven. It’s an old rescue transmission. Very old.”
Nina stared at the locked panel beside the door. No one came here. Nothing was supposed to be here. And yet the signal was pulsing through Robo’s sensors like a heartbeat.
“We have to open it,” she said.
Robo pressed his glowing hands to the panel. Lights flickered. Metal clicked. Then the great doors shuddered, gave a long, dragging groan, and began to part.
Cold darkness spilled out, carrying the smell of dust and old machinery. Somewhere deep inside, a soft blue light blinked once.
Nina tightened her grip on Robo’s hand and stepped forward.
From behind a stack of crates, something moved.