I finally take Kodiak’s advice and set an alarm for 07:00 Mari time, so we can both start the day with a jog through our ships. We begin at opposite ends and do a circuit,meeting in the zero-g center, whipping past like aerodancers as our first glimpse of each other for the day. He runs for an hour, but I’m slowly working my way to the thirty-minute mark. While Kodiak finishes his run, I pick a room and get started on my tasks.
Outside the airlock, beside the remaining suits, I find a smooth space, softer and slightly discolored, like the wall around the yellow portal.
I load the training reels up on my bracelet, scanning for footage of the airlock. Kodiak pounds by in his bare feet. “What are you doing?”
“Tell you on your next lap!” I say as he runs past.
There. I pause the reel. Four suits in this footage, and only three here now. In other reels, it’s down to three suits, though I can find curious artifacts in the video, like it’s been altered. Even the hook has been digitally removed. Someone has gone to great lengths so I don’t realize a suit is missing.
Next time Kodiak runs by, I call out for him to meet me in the blind room once he’s finished.
“Mysterious!” he calls as he pounds past.
When he gets to the blind room, breathing heavily, sweaty hair matting either side of his face, I’m there to greet him. “One of my spacesuits is missing,” I say.
“Okay... what does that mean?” he asks, mopping the back of his neck with a towel.
“Let’s go to your airlock,” I say, pointing farther into his ship.
His eyes flash with irritation, but he waves me onward.
He’s missing a suit, too. Keeping silent, I lay my hand over the smooth portion of the wall where his fourth suit should be.
Watching Kodiak’s reaction raises my pulse a little, like I’ve laid my hand on some equally smooth place on his skin. Sweat dots the fabric stretched tight over his chest. He nods his head in the direction of the blind room.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” OS asks from the next room over.
“No, thank you, OS,” I sing.
Kodiak lowers himself to the scuffed and bare floor. I kneel next to him, so we can whisper. “They sent us out with two suits missing?”
I shake my head. “For a mission this important, a suit missing from each ship? Doesn’t make sense.”
“I agree,” Kodiak says, scowling. I can feel the warmth of his breath.
Two spacefarers. Two missing suits. Two forgotten launches.
_-* Tasks Remaining: 293 *-_
Then she’s back. “—the ship, Ambrose! The wear on the ship is too great on the approach, more than mission control predicted. You must finish OS’s tasks as soon as you can. Any defect, like... in the old shuttles, will lead to catastrophe. The ship must be... pristine to survive the friction and heat. My brother, I love you, there is no one better to—”
The transmission cuts out. I hang in the stillness, not daring to breathe, waiting for Minerva to return.
“There is no more incoming data to process,” OS says finally. “I will let you know the moment anything more comes in.”
“Play this transmission over,” I order, hands over my mouth, tears streaming from unblinking eyes.
_-* Tasks Remaining: 270 *-_
“Hello there,” a voice says.
I leap to my feet, hand to my chest. “You scared me, Kodiak.”
“Still staring moodily out into space while you think about your sister, I see,” he says. “Come on, you’re going for a run.”
I look longingly out into space. Sometime soon, Saturnwill come into view. Minerva will come into view. But not for weeks. I nod.
“Running really fast is like the Dimokratía version of psychotherapy, huh?” I say as we head into theAurora.
