The Pipe, continued

 (this belongs to Friday entries)           

            Did you feel that,” thought Reema? She hit the lever that slowed the spaceship. Her mind reached out to the void below but she only sensed emptiness outside the craft.

            “Life can’t exist outside the city,” Kraft answered her thoughts.

“I’m sure there was something.” Not wanting Kraft to question her unproven guesses, she shielded her thoughts from him.

Kraft reached for the ship's controls and turned it slowly. He flew the ship low along the road in the direction from which they had come straining his mind to pick up any life form. Reema's closed mind didn't bother him. He respected her privacy. When nothing from below touched the fine tendrils between his black curls, he informed Reema, “I’m turning back to the city. We’re due in.”

The ship slipped through the city's invisible protective barrier and docked in their shimmering silver world. Trip, an older unfriendly cadet, met them with a snicker. “So how was your flight?”

“Boring, as always. Nothing out there,” Kraft didn’t shield his thoughts from Trip, who had seniority. He just stared out at the city streets through the viewing triangles while Trip groped his mind. The city seemed busy today.

“I felt something,” a few strands of Reema’s hair vibrated. Because her violet hair was long and flowing, the telepathic tendrils weren’t noticeable.  She stood next to Kraft her hands stuffed in the pockets of her silver jumpsuit.

Trip instantly shifted his thoughts to Reema, and she could feel him trying to penetrate her shield. “Whatever it was is coming to the city,” she informed without lowering her shield. She didn’t trust Trip. He was too nosey, so she went on, “If it’s intelligent, we’ll be able to see its thoughts.”

Defeated, Trip shrugged his bulky shoulders. Kraft had obviously not sensed what Reema did; and Reema wasn’t allowing him access to her thoughts. “Lunch is getting cold. Your parents expect you,” his thoughts echoed as he left the docking station.

“What do you think it was,” asked Kraft when they were alone.

“I’m not sure, maybe a life form,” answered Reema, switching to normal language now that Trip had left. Trip always insisted on total telepathic immersion. She didn’t agree. She thought that using telepathy only would become empty, like the world outside the city. Her parents often warned her that if she didn’t use her voice, she would lose the ability of regular speech. “You might need it someday,” they would say, as if her parents believed in extra terrestrials.

Kraft ran his hand through his curls, He thought out, “If the alarms go off, we’ll know whether you saw something important.”  The skin of the invisible dome would send out a telepathic alarm if its perimeter was breached. According to the history, it had happened once long ago, but nobody believed it. “It’s a legend,” they’d say.

A searing high pitched sound pierced Kraft’s thoughts. He grabbed his head trying to stop the pain. Reema put her hands to her ears, but it was useless because the sound was telepathic. The two looked at each other and knew . . . “A breach!”