“You OK with that?”
Jim nodded. “I’m fine.”
“Because it seems like a lot.”
Jim straightened his arms, holding the bar over his chest. He lowered it, and slowly pushed it back up again.
“It’s my regular weight,” he said. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”
He lowered it and raised it again, smoothly. The muscles on his forearms were well defined, almost sharp. There was no fat on the man. He was lean, marionette thin, yet there was clearly strength in his frame. There was nothing about the man’s demeanor that resembled Brack, but they both had that same sparse sculpting.
Was that what this was about? Had Jim sensed Frank’s wariness around him, and was trying to do something normal, non-threatening with him?
Jim did another rep.
“How’re you finding it, Lance?”
“Finding it?”
“Us invading your space.”
“It’s OK.”
“Just OK, or are you being diplomatic?”
“It’s OK,” repeated Frank. “I thought we weren’t talking.”
Jim lowered the weight almost to his chest, then pushed it up again, locking his elbows. They trembled slightly. “Eight months is a long time to get used to being on your own. I hope we’re not crowding you.”
“You’ve been very respectful.”
“But you’d rather we weren’t here.”
Frank would rather they took him straight home. He was done with Mars. But he couldn’t tell anyone why because he had secrets to keep.
So instead he said: “You’re why I’m here.”
“Do you resent that?”
What was this? Was he trying to get a rise out of him?
“No,” said Frank. “It’s different. That’s all.”
Jim did another couple of reps, and said, “OK.”
Frank took the bar from him and deposited it on the hanger. He felt his own muscles flex, but it wasn’t a strain.
“Could you manage that, Lance?”
“Sure.”
“But you’ve got nothing to prove, right?”
“I’ve got my chores. They keep me moving.” Definitely trying to get a rise. “If I need to lift, I’ll swap out the buggy wheels.”
“Don’t you want to see how high you can go? Fan’s got a league table. Balanced for power-to-weight ratio.”
“You want me to join your league, is that it? You could have just asked me straight.”
“Just trying to see how competitive you are, Lance. You not interested in how you measure up against us?”
“I don’t do pissing contests,” said Frank.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Neither did I.” Frank lifted the bar out of the hanger and lowered it to the floor. “Your group have been together for a year with nothing much to do but play off against each other. Me? I’ve been frozen, shipped, defrosted and put to work. I guess I was about ready for you, though there was probably more I could have done. I had to concentrate on building the base, keeping it running and, I guess, not dying. Games? League tables? Maybe one day, but right now I don’t have time for that.”
Jim sat up on the bench and swung his leg over to sit sideways on it. “Well, I poked a hornet’s nest there. Most you’ve said to me since we got here.”
It was getting too close to personal, and Frank wasn’t going there. “Unless you need me to spot for you again, I got work to do.”
“Lance, I didn’t mean anything by this. It was just talk, shooting the breeze.”
Frank looked at the man, tried to read his expression. “Sure.”
“I’ve offended you. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not offended. Just,” and Frank shrugged, “confused. I don’t understand what it is you want from me.”
“I’m just trying to get to know you. I know I’m not Leland, but there’s no harm in trying to work out what makes you tick.” Jim gave a half-grin. “Unless that’s commercially sensitive information.”
“Do you find my personal details funny?”
“It’s kind of funny,” said Jim. “It’s kind of frustrating. It’s what we’re saying to each other when we want to tell them to butt out of our business.”
“Do you ever take the hint?”
“I’ve already apologized, Lance.”
“That’s OK. Accepted.” Should Frank just go now? Was this painful, difficult conversation finally over? He didn’t know. Just how far did he need to go to accommodate the NASA crew, given that he wasn’t actually Lance Brack?
“As to whether I can take a hint? Not as often as I should. When they picked us as a team, they made sure that we could all work together. And we’re all very different people, so that took some juggling of rosters. We’ve got some brilliant astronauts kicking their heels Earthside because they get pissed too easily.”
“You’re saying that’s me?” Frank suddenly became aware that he had an audience, and that Jim hadn’t noticed his commander leaning on the wall at the far end of the yard, down by the cross-hab connector.
“I’m explaining this all wrong,” said Jim. “You were selected because you were resilient, because you could cope with being on your own for an extended period, that you didn’t need other people. What qualifies you for that part of the mission is exactly why you think I’m a jerk now.”
“We all think you’re a jerk, Jim.” Lucy levered herself upright and wandered casually through the gym equipment. “Leastways, we all do sometimes. Lance doesn’t have to take part in any crew activities, he doesn’t have to answer any non-mission-related questions, he doesn’t even answer to me on non-mission-critical activities. So you poking him like a hornet’s nest—I was here for that, yes—is off-limits. I’m just hoping Lance isn’t reconsidering his generous offer to teach us how to build a module up on the summit of Ceraunius, which will benefit you most of all, and which I’m just coming to tell him we kindly accept.”
“You’re right,” said Jim. He threw his hands into the air. “I am a jerk. I’m going to make myself scarce, have a shower, and do some planning.”
He gathered up his towel, gave the bench seat a perfunctory wipe-down, and headed in the direction of the cans.
Frank watched him go, and shook his head. “That was…”
“Weird?” offered Lucy. “I need to explain. When they were balancing out the crews, human factors decided what we really needed was a social disruptor. Someone who’s not just smart in their own field and dedicated to the overall success of the mission—we’re all that—but a joker in the pack. The grit in the oyster. Whichever metaphor you want to choose. It means that Jim can be a monumental pain in the ass, but we actually do need him to behave like that to function normally as a community. Yes, he has a point about how someone who’s able to work in almost total isolation for eight months is not necessarily going to easily integrate into a team, but we all knew that and wanted you to move at your own pace, what you felt comfortable with. You’re a loner. We get that.”
Frank had a sudden urge to start screaming the truth to her. To yell at her, “That’s not how it was!” He had had a team, and XO had killed them all. So strong was the feeling that he had to close his eyes and swallow hard and breathe slowly.
“You want the extra hab up on the volcano?” he said eventually.
“Yes. Please.”
“When do you want it by?”
“How long will it take for you to train us?”
Frank had a bunch of cons doing it competently within a couple of sessions. “How quick are your crew?”
She laughed. Not unkindly, just surprised by the question. “I guess they’re OK.”
“If you want to schedule a couple of hours tomorrow, I can walk you all through it, see how you are at the end of it. Then we can head up the Santa Clara whenever you like. Three hours to build it, then it needs inflating and fitting out. It doesn’t have to be done in a day: once it’s up, you can take your time.”