Ohan did something Ashby had never seen before. The edges of his mouth spread wide and flat, stretching out beyond the edges of his eyes, which crinkled shut. A smile. “Yes. I want that.”
Dr. Chef bustled into action, pulling Ohan’s never-before-used chair into the kitchen. He helped Ohan into his seat and wasted no time in beginning a crash course in vegetables.
Ashby glanced toward Corbin, who was observing the scene with a quiet expression. He nodded to himself, confirming something unspoken, and turned to leave.
“Corbin,” Ashby said. Corbin looked at him. Ashby sighed. He still wasn’t happy, but what was done was done. After all they’d been through—yes, if Ohan could move forward, so could he. He gestured toward the empty stool beside him. “I’m sure the algae can wait.”
Corbin paused. “Thanks,” he said. He took a seat. He looked out of place, like the new kid at school, unsure of how to proceed.
Ashby nodded toward the rack of mugs. “You want some tea?”
Corbin took a mug and filled it, as if glad for some direction. He picked up a slice of spice bread. “So. Ah.” He took a sip from his mug. “How is Pei?”
Ashby raised his eyebrows, startled by the personal inquiry. “She’s doing just fine.”
“I overheard that she’ll be coming here for a time.”
“That’s right.”
Corbin nodded. “That’s good.” He took a longer sip and focused his attention on his spice bread.
Ashby eyed the algaeist for a moment, and looked back to the kitchen. He saw Ohan take a tentative nibble from the end of a spineroot. The Sianat gasped with surprise. Dr. Chef clapped him on the back and laughed, his voices harmonizing with approval.
Ashby smiled. He drank his tea and watched his crew. It was enough.
Rosemary took the the domed helmet from Kizzy and placed it over her own head, sliding the locking edges at its base into the grooves on her suit. A hiss of dry air brushed against her face as the life support system started up. On the opposite side of the airlock, Sissix, similarly dressed, shook her head.
“I still can’t believe you’ve never done this before,” Sissix said. Her voice came through the tiny vox fixed within Rosemary’s helmet.
“I never got around to it.”
Sissix smirked. “There are a lot of things you’ve never got around to.”
“Yeah, well, I’m working on it.”
“Okay,” Kizzy said, connecting something to the back of the suit. “Lemme see your status panel.” Rosemary lifted her left arm, displaying three green lights. “All seals locked. Cool. Wait, those are all green, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, good. Sorry, I’m a little high.” She looked back at Sissix, who was rolling her eyes. “What? It’s my day off.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Sissix said.
“You know, you’re welcome to come along,” Rosemary said.
“Thanks, but given the circumstances, I think I’d just fall asleep.” Kizzy paused, considering. “Why have I never taken a nap outside? Seriously, think how super mellow that would be.”
“Yeah,” said Sissix. “Right up until you sleep through the oxygen alarm.”
“Okay, yeah, maybe not.”
“Wait!” The sound of handfeet and grumbling echoed down the hallway, preceding Dr. Chef’s arrival. He hurried over to Rosemary and placed two yellow tablets in her hand. “You forgot.”
“Oh, stars, right,” Rosemary said, pulling her helmet back off. She popped the tablets in her mouth, crunched down, and made a face. “They taste like plex.”
Kizzy giggled. “How would you know what plex tastes like?”
Rosemary shrugged. “I was a kid once. Didn’t you ever lick plex?”
The giggle swelled into a laugh. “No! Ew! No!”
“Well, whatever they taste like,” Dr. Chef said, “they’ll help keep you from getting sick in your helmet, which is the important part. And if for some reason you should get sick, don’t panic, just remember to—”
“Don’t freak her out, Doc,” Kizzy said, patting his upper arm.
“She gets spacesick!”
“She’ll be fine.”
“All right, all right, I just want her to enjoy this.” Dr. Chef rumbled and chuffed as Rosemary put her helmet back on. “You know,” he said. “That suit looks good on you.”
“Yeah?” Rosemary said, looking down at the tough red fabric.
“Yeah,” Kizzy said. “It fits you real good.”
Sissix touched Rosemary’s shoulder. “You ready?”
Rosemary stared at the airlock door, nervous, eager. “I think so.”
Sissix nodded. “Tycho, we’re ready to go.”
The vox on the wall switched on. “Okay. I’ll be keeping an eye on you both. I’ll signal if you get too far out.”
“Thanks.” She led Rosemary into the airlock and smiled back at the others. “See you guys later.”
“Have fun!” Kizzy said, waving.
“Be back for dinner,” Dr. Chef said.
The inner door slid shut. Rosemary looked at Sissix. Her heart was hammering. “Well, here we go.”
Sissix took her by the hand as the airlock began to depressurize. The hatch slid back. They walked forward, their boots sticking to the artigrav floor. They stood with their toes at the edge. The open hatch waited.
“Oh,” said Rosemary, staring ahead.
“A little different without windows and bulkheads, huh?” Sissix grinned. “Here, do this.” She extended her hand out past the hull.
Rosemary did the same. As her hand passed beyond the edge of the artigrav field, she could feel its weight change—disappear. She’d been in zero-G playrooms as a kid, but this was different. This was the real thing, the universe’s default state. She laughed.
“Ready?” Sissix said. “One. Two. Three.”
They stepped out, and fell up. Or down. Or sideways. It didn’t matter. Those words meant nothing anymore. There were no boundaries, no playroom walls. Her body was freed of the burden she hadn’t known she was carrying—solid bones, dense muscle, an unwieldy head. They were out in the open, for real this time, as spacers should be. And all around them, black, black, black, full of jeweled stars and colored clouds. It was a sight she knew well, a sight she lived alongside, but in that moment, she was seeing it for the first time. Everything had changed.
“Oh, stars,” Rosemary said, and suddenly understood the expression better than she ever had.
“Come on,” Sissix said. The thrusters on her boots fired. They flew further out.
Rosemary looked back to the Wayfarer. Through the windows, she could see the familiar rooms and corridors, but it was all so different from out here, like watching a vid, or looking into a dollhouse. The ship looked so small, so fragile.
“Rosemary.”
She turned her head.
Sissix raised their clasped hands and smiled. “Let go.”
She let Sissix’s curved fingers slip from her grasp. They drifted apart, still holding the other in their eyes. Rosemary turned away from her ship, away from her companion, turned out to face the void. There was a nebula there, an explosion of dust and light, the fiery corpse of an ancient giant. Within the gaseous folds slept clusters of unborn stars, shining softly. She took inventory of her body. She felt her breath, her blood, the ties binding it all together. Every piece, down to the last atom, had been made out here, flung through the open in a moment of violence, until they had swirled round and round, churning and coalescing, becoming heavy, weighing each other down. But not anymore. The pieces were floating free now. They had returned home.