The spacesuit. I hustle into theAurora, make it through zero g in the dark, retrieve Kodiak’s suit, and return to him, conking my head only a few times in the process.
I send the suit floating through the opening. Kodiakreaches out, his hand shivering. “Thank... you,” he manages, then he pulls the suit up. I hear him struggling with it, then a sigh of relief, muffled by the helmet. “Okay, back to the office.”
TheCoordinated Endeavor’s shielded hull provides good insulation, but even so I can feel the ship’s temperature dropping. The tips of my fingertips are turning numb. I wrap my arms around my chest while I wait in the darkness, listening to the sounds of Kodiak rearranging things in the uninhabited region.
“I’ll get my own suit,” I finally say. “Then I’ll join you.”
“Not a good idea,” Kodiak says. “I’ll explain why at dinner. Look, it’s going to be some time before I get all the life-support systems online. You should just go where it’s warmest.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m not going anywhere,” I call into the darkness. As my eyes adjust, the scant starlight turns the ship’s interiors off-black, rims everything in charcoal. I hump over to my sleeping chamber and yank my bedding from the bunk. When I return, I flump into a pile of blankets. “We should switch positions pretty soon, right?” I call up.
“Still not a good idea. I’ll explain later. Don’t worry!”
“Iamthe better programmer here,” I grumble. I ease my dollop of blankets over to the room’s exit, so I can see the stars. “You have to come look soon!” I say. “We’re ina whole new set of stars. I think I see some other galaxies, like Cigar and Pinwheel, and maybe that’s LMC?” There’s no answer from Kodiak. “Okay, I’ll let you concentrate now!” I call.
I watch the stars move, and while I do, my mind keeps returning to Kodiak. It’s tight quarters up there, and can only be tighter with the spacesuit on. As the ship chills further, I keep adjusting the blankets, so that they cover the seams where my skin meets fabric.
I must have dozed off, because I wake up to sudden light. My body is sweating inside my pile of blankets. I kick them free. “Kodiak!” I call. “You got life support back on!”
There’s no answer.
“Kodiak?”
I listen to the drip of the cistern, the buzz of the lights. Maybe he’s gone back to theAurorato grab a tool. “OS, where’s Spacefarer Celius?” I ask, out of an old reflex. But of course OS is gone.
I get to my feet and pivot, biting my fingernails.
One red-suited leg and then another appears out of the opening, and finally Kodiak himself. His legs buckle as they hit the ground, the rest of him crumpling after. He cradles one leg in his hands, kneading the thigh muscle.
I help him, my hand adding its pressure over his. His body tenses, then relaxes.
“You did it,” I say while I massage the cramping muscle. “Thank you.”
He manages a tight smile. “I’ll need to go up there every few hours to make course adjustments and be sure we’re not careening into any asteroids. We’re manually nav-ing.”
“We’ll take turns.” I kiss him. His lips are cracked. “First we need to get you some water.”
Kodiak nods. “Some water would be good. And some of that manicotti.”
“I’ll whip some right up. Come on.”
Kodiak eases to his feet, wincing.
“I don’t know how you stayed cramped up in there all this time,” I say. “Everything must be aching.”
Kodiak nods fractionally. He will never not be stoic.
I twine an arm around his waist, and he accepts my support. Together we limp toward the dining area, where he eases himself into a chair.
He reaches a hand up to his hair, and when he does I see red welts on either side of the training scar on his bicep. They’re lined up neatly, like seeds. “What the hell are those?” I ask.
He presses on the back of his arm so he can see the flesh, then shrugs. “Lesions.”
He opens his hand to show me a tuft of blue-black hair. “Whose is that?” I ask crisply. But I know the answer.
Kodiak points a thumb at his chest.This guy.
“The uninhabited area—”
