“There is a one-hour spacewalk limit set by Cusk mission control,” OS says. “This is to prevent accidents from fatigue, and also to prevent too much buildup of radiation within your soft tissues. When Kodiak comes against the edge of this time window, I hope you will join me in convincing him to return to the ship.”
“Yes,” I say. “I don’t want to see him injured any more than you do.”
“Of course you do not,” my mother’s voice replies. “I did not mean to imply anything of the sort.”
The hairs on my arm rise, tickling the sleeve of the suit as I pull it on. “Doyouthink Kodiak will be safe out there?” I ask.
“Kodiak will be within the usual window of risk.”
“Okay, then,” I say, placing my helmet over my head and taking up my usual position at the window. “I guess that’s the best we can hope for.”
Kodiak emerges from the far side of theCoordinated Endeavor, gripping the edge as the ship’s centrifugal forces push him away. Exit and reentry are the most dangerous parts of the spacewalk.
“He is doing very well, isn’t he?” OS asks.
“Yes, he is.”
“Spacefarer Celius is skilled,” OS says coolly. I remember how my mother would so often praise Minerva in front of me, goading me to rise to her standard.
Kodiak starts with the minor repairs, working his way along the exterior of the ship, filling small holes and smoothing the hull using a portaprinter. Then, once he’s made his way to the center, he unreels the flexible antenna from a pocket.
After he’s fixed one end of the antenna to the ship, he runs the cable to the edge.
“Kodiak is not responding to his helmet comms. What is he attaching outside me right now, Ambrose?” OS asks. “I have not scheduled any work for him on this part of the ship.”
I consider my words. “We decided to build redundancy into our radio capabilities. You know how serious it is that we’ve been out of communication with mission control for this long. We’re working to receive radio communications from mission control some other way. And to double our chances of catching any transmission from Minerva.”
A micropause. “This is wise. Even though a continuing solar storm would influence both antennae the same way, it will make you feel better to know you have investigated another option. I should have suggested this before.”
“That’s okay, OS,” I say with false cheer. “You can’t think of everything.”
Kodiak makes a gloved thumbs-up in my direction, and then begins his return to his airlock. As the gravity increases, he has to grip tighter and tighter. At this point in a spacewalk it’s nearly impossible to take a break, since the force of the rotating ship drags hard on the body. Still, I watch him rest between every step, hands wrapped around the rungs, like an exhausted swimmer clutching a buoy.
Then he’s made it inside. The closing airlock door reverbs all the way to my side of the spacecraft.
I strip off my stinky spacesuit and hurtle through the ship, slowing only as I cross the zero-g center and descend into the Dimokratía half.
When I get to the Dimokratía airlock, Kodiak is still in his spacesuit. He’s released his helmet, and is leaningagainst the wall. I race right up to him and stop myself only just before I throw my arms around him. Instead I do this awkward kind of lean. I’m in my undergarments, soaked through with sweat and sticking to the skin, and his body is bulked twice over by the suit. He’s freezing, but I need the assurance of his body against mine, the proof that he’s there.
He goes still for a moment, then his gloved hands cross over my back, fingers linking over my soaked shirt, and he presses me tight to his suit. I’m shivering before I know it—the chilled surface is sucking my heat away. Once he realizes what he’s doing, Kodiak releases me and steps back.
A complicated expression is on his face. He looks surprised and fascinated and somehow assaulted, too, like I’ve blurted out some intense secret from his own past. “So,” he says.
“So,” I respond, wrapping my trembling arms around my chest, rubbing my chilled skin. When these filmy cotton suits are wet, it’s like wearing tissue. I turn away, then realize the back is no less revealing. I turn around again.
“Do you... want something to change into?” Kodiak stammers.
I nod, still shivering.
“Take a jumpsuit from my closet. I’ll meet you in the workshop,” he says, unclipping the collar of his spacesuit.
“Did everything go okay?” I ask, teeth chattering.
“Yes,” he says. “Please, Ambrose, go change. I don’t want you sick.”
I nod and shuffle toward Kodiak’s sleeping quarters, hands masking my butt cheeks.
_-* Tasks Remaining: 3 *-_
