She could blame humankind for this predicament. The whole race clamoring over itself for the best place among the stars. All that early passion for exploration steadily polluted with greed until finally the powers-that-be or had-been forced a new conflict. One much worse than any before. She could entertain the idea that those early explorers—the idealists, the scientists, the astronauts, the ones who were not searching for power or wealth, but for knowledge—would have thought twice about their efforts if they saw what lay ahead. If they could have read the fate lines on mankind’s bloody hands. But she knows better. Because those people, the righteous ones, they know that if you are trapped in a cave, sometimes you have to go deeper into the darkness to find the true source of light.
The suits on the Homunculus are a formfitting mesh far more resilient than the bulky elephant suits on Bel. She finds them in a drawer just next to the airlock, folded up like any other piece of wardrobe. Even the helmets are small and aerodynamic, transparent all around and auto-tinting in UV. She struggles with the breathing pack, nearly suffocates herself putting the helmet on first. She hooks up the hoses and tries again. It must weight 60 pounds. The EM-pack she finds weighs about the same as the other, but there are no control arms, just a wire that adheres to her suit, running from her back to her wrists, ending in controllers that dangle there for ease of access.
Top-heavy, she wobbles to the airlock door.
Chapter 54
An alarm shrieks and a red light bathes the bridge.
What now? Jack wonders.
A smooth male voice declares something in Venusian. It sounds serious.
Gregorian says something back and the alarm cuts out.
Jack says, “What the hell’s going on?”
Gregorian types at his monitor. “Lana,” he says. He pulls up an angled view from above. She faces the wall, jabbing at a control panel. Beside her rests an assortment of twisted metal, specks of debris that could be ice particles. It dawns on Jack that he is looking at the inside of the airlock. The wreckage must be the shover he rode in on. Lana wasn’t kidding about how lucky he was. But now is not the time to reflect on it. Lana means to get out.
He lunges to his feet. Pain sends him sprawling onto the floor.
Hunter helps him back. “I don’t think you’re going anywhere, bud,” she says.
When he catches his breath, he tells Gregorian to open the inner airlock.
Gregorian’s hands hover over the controls. “Negative. Lana have activate outer door. It cannot override.”
“What are you talking about? I said open it.”
“You are not understand. If outer door is being tamper with, inner door lock. Security protocol. Lana must disengage outer door first.”
Onscreen, Lana continues to type at the panel.
“Can she get out?” Jack says.
“Not without passcode. No.”
Hunter whistles. “So we can’t open the inner door, and she can’t open the outer.”
“Okay. But I still need to go out there.”
“I don’t see her letting that happen, hoss.”
Lana turns to face the camera. Her voice buzzes through the onboard comms. “Are you watching, Jack?”
“Yes. I’m watching.”
“Open the door.” Her expression is grim, distorted by the curved glass of her faceplate. “It’s the only way.”
“That’s not going to happen. Come on back inside.”
She shakes her head and points at the outer door.
“Lana, I’m still in charge here.”
“Listen to me. You’re seriously hurt. You’ve lost a lot of blood. You could pass out the second you hit Zero-G. It’s not safe for you.”
“It’s not safe for anyone. You know that.”
“You’re being reckless.”
“Am I the one in the airlock trying to get myself killed?”
“It’s where you want to be, isn’t it?”
“Come back inside.”
She prods at the control panel, which sets off the alarm again. Gregorian shuts it down.
“Lana, please. We’re wasting time.”
The comms click, but all that comes through is a crackle of static. Like ocean surf. Her breath. She says, “You’re not the one making this call, alright? Whatever happens to me, I chose it. That’s how this is going to work.”
“I give the orders and you obey them. That’s how it is.”
“This isn’t your burden, okay? It’s mine.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“I know what you’re afraid of. I’m afraid too.”
“Just come back inside. We’ll talk about it.”
“Gregorian, Hunter, are you listening? You know I’m right. It can’t be Jack on this. You’ll walk me through what I have to do. I’ve already programmed the grav tanks. If I don’t make it, you just get in and close the lid.”
Jack punches his thighs. “Damn it, Lana. You’re not doing this.”
“It’s alright.”
“No it’s not!” His voice strains. “I won’t have you getting killed. I won’t have it!”
“Listen to yourself. It’s not your decision anymore, Jack.”
“No one else is dying on my watch!”
“Gregorian, open the door.”
Jack snaps, “Gregorian, don’t you fucking move.”
Hunter touches Jack’s shoulder, gently. “She’s got a point.”
“Fuck you!” He throws her hand off.
Gregorian leans over the controls, thinking.
Lana says, “Like you said, we’re wasting time. Gregorian. It’s your ship.”
Gregorian turns to Jack, and Jack knows he has made his choice. “I am sorry.”
“Just wait,” Jack begs. “Lana, you made me promise that I wasn’t trying to get myself killed. Can you make that same promise now?”
She laughs. “Sometimes you are so stupid.”
“Don’t evade the question.”
“You’re not dead, are you?”
“What does that mean?”
“Gregorian. The door.”
Gregorian types.
Condensation brushes across the airlock floor. Debris stirs. As the gravity lifts, the metal shards hover like snowflakes.
Jack mutters, “She didn’t promise.”
Hunter rolls her eyes. “She said you’re not dead.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It means she doesn’t want to die. It means she wants to be where you are.”
Chapter 55
Her first time on a rollercoaster, she cried the whole way up the first hill. She gripped her mother’s hand and begged for them to stop, but her mother assured her she would enjoy it once it got going. It was one of the smaller coasters on Mars, at Olympus Thrills, and this particular coaster was built on the edge of Olympus Mons where a vertical drop had been cut through the escarpment. Miles of sheer rock face, perpetually shadowed. An abyss. When the ride got going, and her stomach lifted into her throat, air whipping so fast she couldn’t catch her breath to scream, she knew she could never trust her mother again. She spent the rest of the day in a hotel room, watching holo shows below the air conditioner while her parents sulked. When she was a teenager, she had the opportunity to go back there and conquer her fear. A couple lousy friends goaded her into it, but when she strapped in and the car started forward, her screams and cries were so severe the operator stopped the ride to let her off.
“You still read me?” she says