When I come to, Kodiak is gone. “Where are you?” I call.
“If you’re inquiring about Kodiak, he is performing maintenance,” OS says. “There are now only two tasks left to accomplish before we make our final approach to Titan.”
I glance at the orange portal—still closed. “Where precisely is he?”
“He’s completed cleaning out the air filtration tubes, a job Rover has proven incapable of doing thoroughly.”
“That was on my list, too,” I say, performing a yawn to prove to OS how Very. Unagitated. I. Am. Meanwhile all my focus is on trying to pick up any sign that Kodiak’s nearby.
“Kodiak has already completed this task, so you will not need to.”
“So you mean Kodiak’s in my half of the ship?”
“Yes. I have continued to find it necessary to seal off theAurora.”
“OS, you know that’s unacceptable to us, but I’m not interested in fighting you right now,” I say, deliberating each word. “Tell me which room Kodiak is in.”
“Spacefarer Celius is in 01.”
“Thank you,” I say, getting to my feet.
While I cross through the rooms, I call out to OS: “What is the status of Minerva’s distress beacon?”
“It remains unchanged,” OS replies.
“You’re sure?” I grumble to myself as I pass through 02, heading for the “01” painted beside the next doorway.
“I have noted your doubt,” OS says. “Thank you for relaying it to me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask OS, but my thoughts are derailed by the sight of Kodiak. He’s armored into his space-walking suit, helmet in the crook of his elbow. “What are you doing?” I ask.
“I have to go outside,” he says. “Damage from that debris field we passed through a few weeks ago. Some is clogged in the propulsion pathways, but I think I can remove it. There’s some ice, which will be useful for future water use, and we can use any hydrocarbons to supply the portaprinter. The rest we can use as accelerant.”
“Yes, of course,” I say guardedly. Kodiak sounds as polished and controlled as OS. He knows that I’m well aware of the uses for any debris we collect. Is he trying to send me some other message?
“We’ll need that accelerant. We’ll really need it,” Kodiak continues, studiously avoiding my eyes as he checks and double-checks the straps and hoses of his suit.
“Yes . . . ,” I say, “I know.”
Kodiak finally meets my eyes. It’s him and not him. Like he’s acting some part. At least he’s more alive now than the human-shaped husk he was yesterday. He brings his lips to my ear, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m also going to see if I can hear any further sign of Minerva. Maybe I can detect the distress beacon from the outside of the ship.”
My gaze darts around the speckled tan irises of his eyes. If there hasn’t been any sign of the distress beacon whatsoever from inside the ship, listening on the other side of a one-foot polycarbonate hull isn’t going to make any difference.
Of course, Kodiak knows that I know that. He also must assume OS will hear even this bare whisper. He has some other reason to want to get out there. I can’t figure out what’s going through his mind, so I’ll just have to trust him. Surprisingly enough, I feel ready to do that.
Kodiak’s focus flicks to the window. Now I think I get it: he’s figured out some way to transmit a message back to mission control, without OS interfering. We’ll establish our own line of communication. Of course. I should have thought of that. “Great,” I say. “Go get us some accelerant, Kodiak.”
Kodiak tilts his head, the muscles of his neck throbbing and clenching as he waits for OS to interject.
OS has nothing more to say. Kodiak’s completing his remaining tasks. That fact must have satisfied OS enough to go along with us.
Kodiak’s next words come in a rush. “The airlocks have manual overrides, but I still want to start this right now before anything intercedes.”
It makes sense—better get moving in case OS has anything up its sleeve. “Good idea, go and see what you can see,” I say. “I’ll be right here, and on the comms.”
“I’m going to bypass any jamming signals OS might be sending to the antenna, so if you stop hearing me, it means I lost communication. But I hope that won’t happen.”
“I would not cut your communications,” OS says. “I do not understand why you are both being suspicious of me. My utmost goal is to keep you safe.”
