“It's okay, Dad. Just let him sleep for a little while. I think I'll sleep too.”
“We have to move again pretty soon, honey, or we won't get to you in time.”
Her voice was small and cheerless. “How's your back?”
“It hurts. But not as much as losing you would hurt.”
“I hope we all make it.” It was the first time Kyle had heard Lark openly doubt success.
Kyle stared at stars, picking out constellations. Even eight hundred klicks up, the stars were faintly blurred. In Pluto's thin gravity the atmosphere reached way up, thinning very slowly.
There were few other humans this far away from Sol. He knew it was harshly cold, but he was sweating and the suit's movement was a constant irritation. He found the Sun, no brighter than Venus from Earth, and imagined the billions of people that populated the inner planets and ringed the Earth and Mars. He'd always wanted to make his mark, to be remembered. He wanted to do it by finding something unique in the heavens.
Early returns based on ‘local’ watchers indicated their rescue would be heavily touristed. In fact, he thought wryly, ratings would do better if they died. Not how he wanted to be remembered. The thought pushed him into waking Henry.
The next three climbs Kyle led again, painkillers making him woozy. They moved too slowly. Lark had about sixteen hours of air left, and they were twenty kilometers away, making just over a kilometer an hour. Calvin mentioned that their ratings were going up. Kyle cussed at him. “Now, now,” Calvin said, “I'll have to edit that out. It must be the meds talking.”
“It's a nightmare talking. We're never going to make it.” Kyle kept pulling, looking behind him for Henry.
The psychologist, Dr. Gerry, broke in. “Sure you will. We're all pulling for you.”
“Too bad you're not really here.”
“Yes we are. One step at a time. We're there.”
“Talk to Lark. Maybe you can do some good there.” Kyle flicked off the sound and brushed aside a leaf that was blocking his view.
“Don't ... do ... that,” Henry said.
“Do what?”
“Don't turn them off. You need them to get you to Lark. Lark's not on this direct path. You're going to have to cross stems a few times. They can help you with that.”
“Us.”
“You. I'm slowing you down too much.” Henry's breath was labored. “Can't get this close and not make it.”
“No.”
“You'll be faster.”
“And if I fall off again? Scotch my back?”
“I can't go any further. You were right to want to leave me.”
“I wouldn't be this far without you.”
“You won't get there with me. Save Lark. I'll ... I'll just wait here.”
“Can you take stims?”
Henry was quiet for a long time, still climbing. Kyle wished he'd talk. “You're coming. You have to.”
“The last thing I have to do is get you to Lark. Slow down, I'll unhitch. I can call up the habitat.”
“I'm the one that keeps tripping. You saved me last time I fell.”
“Move faster. Maybe I'll keep up.”
“You'll keep up—you're on a rope.”
Henry collapsed when they stopped for a rest. His heart rate showed that he was still alive, but he didn't respond to Kyle's voice. Playing possum? Kyle didn't know.
He demanded the supply basket. He closed his eyes while he waited for it, counting time.
Calvin was screaming his name. He blinked. He floated five meters from anything. Damn.
“Where ... what happened?”
“You passed out. Hang in there. The supply basket is almost there.”
“Like I'm going anywhere.” He checked. The rope was still attached. He tugged. It was tight. The basket was rising up from below him, the probes rising and falling as someone on the ground adjusted course to meet him. When the basket reached him, he struggled to find the medical kit. He pulled it out. As one hand emerged with the med-kit, weight inside the basket shifted. The open door hung down. Whoever was running the remote probes corrected the wrong way, exaggerating the shift. A long knife fell away first, tumbling slowly past, a soft glint along the blade showing as his head turned towards it, touching it with light from his helmet lamp. He tucked the med-kit under his arm and reached for a strap on the habitat as it came towards him. He snagged it, the bulk causing him to turn over, facing away. He twisted, holding the med-kit and the habitat. He needed to close the door. He was floating down, with no ability to move fast. Kyle tried to snag the extra rope with his foot while it went by. The coil fell across his toe, and he pulled his knee in to bring the rope to where he could grab it with a spare finger. It slipped off his boot and floated away. Next, the extra suit passed him two meters away.
Lark's pressure suit.
He tucked the habitat between his knees and reached, tried swimming for it. His rope stopped him.
He stared after the suit for a long time. “Calvin?”
No answer.
Of course not, he'd turned off the audio. “Calvin—track the damned suit.”
“We are tracking it.”
Well, he had the two most immediate things, but now he'd have to carry them. He left the collapsed habitat between his legs, tied the handle of the med-kit to the rope with a butterfly knot, and pulled himself back. The rope was attached to a creeper. Henry was anchored above him with his small belt rope, still out cold.
Kyle tied the med-kit to Henry's rope. He expanded the bulky habitat and plugged it into a vine. For once, there was a good cross-section of vines nearby to hang it on. He pulled Henry inside and collapsed next to the older man, panting. He had ten minutes to do nothing but think while the habitat pressurized. An hour had passed—Lark had fifteen hours left before she'd start running out of air.
He was so tired he could barely get Henry's helmet off.
Henry's vitals looked ragged. He checked with the med-team, and they agreed. Exhaustion. The verdict: no stims. So he'd lost Lark's carefully modified Tourist suit to retrieve stims, and then decided not to use the stims, at least for Henry. He looked up, toward where the bubble had to be.
Henry's face was white, peaceful. Kyle touched him, rolling him gently back and forth. Henry's eyes fluttered open, and a slow smile touched his mouth. “I must have passed out again.”
“Something like that.” Kyle filled Henry in. “I don't think I have time to go after the suit. I'm going after Lark. You'll be safe here. I'll come back with Lark. The suit she has will get her here. The habitat will keep her alive while I go after her suit. If that doesn't work—if it's gone—we'll just have to go down the slow way while we figure something else out.”
“Huh?”
“Creepers are growing down, right? Almost a klick a day. We'll be the first humans to live off broth for two hundred days.”
Henry shook his head. “Never make it. The habitat won't survive that long.”