Winter World (The Long Winter #1)(58)

“Helmets on!” Emma yells. I’ve never heard her speak that loudly. Or forcefully. It jars me. “Gloves too!”

She flings my helmet at me.

“Brace for impact,” she says before snapping on her helmet and helping me with mine.

I slip my gloves on as the ship rocks, throwing me toward the wall. My tether to the table catches, and I yank back like a yo-yo. Through the porthole window, I see one of the modules on the arms break off and tumble past like a grain silo blown by a twister, me the trapped homeowner, watching helplessly.

The crew is bounced around the bubble, tethered just like I am, debris flying everywhere, chaos in utter silence except for the hissing of air in my suit as it pressurizes. There’s a slightly sweet smell. That’s wrong. Different from when my suit was last pressurized—at launch. Why? A malfunction?

I turn my head, and my vision blurs. As if I’m drunk. Or drugged.

Emma floats ten feet away from me, also tethered to the table. Her eyes look glassed over too. She’s not moving. Is she hurt?

I plant my feet against the wall and try to push off toward her. But my legs won’t cooperate. What’s happening to me?

I hang in the air, reach for the table to pull myself forward.

A gloved hand catches mine. Harry’s face drifts up into view. I can’t hear him, but I can read the single word he mouths.

“Sorry.”





Chapter 33





Emma





I awake to the worst hangover of my life. Or what feels like it. My head swims. I’m nauseous.

My helmet has been removed. So have my gloves.

What happened?

It was a nightmare. The ship being destroyed. Just like the ISS. I tried to save them—the crew—again.

I failed. Again.

There’s a strap around my abdomen, pinning me to the wall. I reach for it, but a hand catches mine. I’m not alone.

James comes into view. His expression is blank, but I can see sadness in his eyes.

My voice comes out in a rasp, like sandpaper running over a wall. “What happened?”

He doesn’t respond. Only averts his eyes. He unfastens the strap, and I float free.

We’re in one of the auxiliary modules. There’s a small porthole window, padded walls, and a screen on the end of the barrel-shaped space.

“What is this?” My voice is scratchy but getting better.

“This, apparently, is home. For a while.”

“Home? What—”

“I’ll let Harry tell you.”

James activates the screen. Harry’s face fills it. He’s in his sleep station, speaking quietly.

“Hi, James. Hi, Emma. The crew elected me to make this video. Forced is more like it. Please don’t hate the messenger.”

He takes a deep breath.

“We’ve talked, and we think if something goes wrong during the strike on the artifact, that you two should get back to Earth.”

He pauses.

“James, there’s not another mind like yours on Earth. You’re irreplaceable. You’ve always been a step ahead of the rest of us out here. You made the big leaps. If this is going to be a war with the artifacts, it will likely be fought with robotics. The world needs you more than we do—and more than it needs us.”

He pauses again, swallowing. His discomfort is obvious.

“Emma, you have been an amazing crewmember. The best we could have ever asked for. But you didn’t sign up for this. I know you would have, but you didn’t. And your health is failing. You can’t stay out here much longer. It had to be you two—if any of us survived.”

The words break me like a stone smashed into an anvil. The hard bits of me shatter and crumble away and lie there, unmoving. Tears stream down my face. I feel hurt, deep down inside in places I never knew existed.

James is stoic. I wonder how many times he’s watched this video. I wonder if it’s the sadness or the anger possessing him now.

I take a look around the module. There’s an exercise bike, resistance bands, and food cartons. For the second time since I went into space, I have been saved by an act of unimaginable kindness.

Harry takes a deep breath. “James, I know you’re probably wondering how we did it. It wasn’t easy. You almost caught us a few times. Lina edited the cargo list from the Fornax, deleted four of the larger engines from it. Grigory and I built the escape module while you were sleeping. It’s bigger than the Pax’s standard escape modules, obviously, and has more acceleration capability. You two will be back on Earth within two months.” He raises his eyebrows. “And James, don’t even try hacking the nav system. Min programmed it to make a beeline for Earth. Lina closed any loopholes you might exploit in the software. It’ll be autopilot all the way. Silent running. You’ll get control back when you reach Earth, but you won’t have any fuel to go anywhere.”

His expression softens. “We did this for you two, but that’s not the only reason. We did it for our families. You’re their best chance of survival. They need you back on Earth. Figuring this out. Studying the sample and data from Midway. We’re counting on you. If you’re seeing this message, then the worst has happened. Don’t come looking for us. If we’re still alive, we’re going after the Midway fleet to try to figure out what’s out here. That’s the other key point, James. You and I made a great team—but we’re redundant. With you and Emma gone, we still have a full crew out here. We’ll miss you in the lab, Emma, but Min and Grigory can help me patch up the drones.”