The Extinction Trials(22)
Owen eyed her, silently trying to communicate the other issue: that one of them should stay with the others to keep an eye on them. He still didn’t trust anyone but Maya.
“Well, I have to say I agree with that,” Alister said. “But it leaves the issue at hand: four suits, a failing powerplant, and five of us. Who’s the odd man out?”
Owen thought he knew what the older man was going to say next. But he was wrong.
“It ought to be me,” Alister said.
Maya cocked her head, a silent question.
“We all know it,” Alister said. “Everyone else is useful. The doctor. The computer boy. You,” he said, motioning to Maya. He continued, his voice more somber. “And we’re not going to suit up while a child goes without. That’s that. No more discussion.”
In the airlock, Maya eyed the blood-covered suit.
“It was a messy autopsy,” Owen said. “We had to use the tools we found in the closet. They were obviously meant for maintaining the station, not opening up bodies.”
She motioned to the dried blood. “I wasn’t thinking about that.”
“You weren’t?”
“No. I was wondering whether whatever killed him might be contagious.”
“That’s a good question,” Owen said. “Cara waited outside while I went first in the airlock. The decon spray washed over the suit but didn’t get all the blood. I took my helmet off and waited a few moments, but I was fine. The spray may have neutralized whatever killed him.”
“A fair point,” Maya said. “Still, if anyone is exposed out there, we should consider isolating them. So, be very careful not to get a tear in your suit.”
“I’m always careful.”
“I’m sure.”
When he put the suit on, Maya leaned over and tapped the display. “What’s your oxygen status?”
“A hundred percent.”
“Which means…”
“That I have 100% left?”
“That you will turn back to return at 55%.”
“Don’t you mean 50%?”
“No, I mean 55% percent. You need to allow for a 10% margin of error. If it takes 45% of your oxygen to get there, it should take about that much oxygen for you to get back. Which would leave you 10% when you return. It’s a good margin of error.”
“I don’t plan to make any errors.”
“Very funny. But seriously. Turn back at 55%. Or sooner if it looks dangerous out there.”
Slowly, Owen nodded. This was new for him. He wasn’t used to anyone caring when he went into dangerous situations—except for his mother. That thought stabbed at him. Was she out there somewhere? Had she been… archived like him? Or was she lost to the sands of time?
Maya’s voice snapped him back to the moment. “I’m going to have Will set an alarm on the terminal—so we’ll know when you should be back. Or at least, the approximate time based on an average oxygen usage.”
“And if I’m not back?”
“I’ll go looking for you. If you’re not back by the 30% mark, I’m going out there—just to be sure.”
Owen shook his head. “No.”
“Yes, I will. You can’t stop me.”
He laughed. “You have me there. But let’s talk about that. If I don’t come back, it means it’s dangerous out there.”
“Or you got lost.”
“Hey. I never get lost.”
“Even when…” Maya tried to imitate Bryce’s mild, dead-pan tone. “The world you know… is gone?”
Owen chuckled. “I never. Get lost. Period.”
“Right, so it would be something truly dangerous out there. Like a monster. Or a sinkhole. Or alien invaders.”
“Correct. Which brings me to my point: if I don’t come back, you all should use the terminal to call for help.”
Maya considered that. “Fair point.”
Owen stood and prepared to don the helmet.
“Wait,” Maya said. “I think we should talk about priorities.”
“Priorities?”
“First priority: figure out where we are. Look for any signs, geographical markers, anything that might help us.”
“All right.”
“Next, I would look for animals. If they can survive out there, it might offer clues about what we’re dealing with.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“Does the suit have an external microphone?”
Owen checked the suit controls. “Yeah.”
“I’d turn it on.”
“And listen for what?”
“Anything that might offer clues about what’s happening… and signs that there are others out there.”
“What do you think I should do if I see or hear someone?”
“For now, I would hide.”
Owen thought that a very strange answer. Maya must have read his expression.
“We don’t know what we’re dealing with here. Better safe than sorry.”
Chapter Nineteen
Through the narrow window, Maya watched the outer airlock door open. Owen stepped out, and as the hatch swung closed, he turned and made eye contact through the glass shield in the helmet.