Winter World (The Long Winter #1)(76)

She taps her tablet and pulls up the lab results. Her voice is less enthusiastic when she speaks.

“Well… your muscle mass looks better. Some of the markers we were following have drastically improved.”

I sense a but coming on. I decide to spare her the awkwardness of delivering the blow.

“And the bad news?” I ask.

“The bad news,” she says carefully, “is that your bone density hasn’t recovered as much as we were hoping.”

“I see.”

“Osteoporosis is extraordinarily hard to reverse. Once the bones lose density, it’s just not that easy to make them grow back.”

“What are you telling me?”

“My goal today is to manage your expectations, Emma. You’ve been through an extraordinary experience. One very, very few would have survived at all. And I know you and Oscar have worked very hard to rehabilitate your body.”

“What should my expectations be?”

“Frankly, I suspect you’ll need to use a walker for the rest of your life. Your energy levels may never really recover. The fatigue that you experience, the aches and pains, the cramps, I don’t think these things will go away. Perhaps in time they’ll improve marginally.”

The words are like hammer blows to my chest, like a judge’s sentence handed down to an innocent person, summarily, unfairly. I want to walk again and be free. I’ve worked so hard. This can’t be my reality for the rest of my life.

Dr. Richards seems to sense my disappointment. She leans in and grabs my hand. “It sounds worse than it is, Emma, I assure you. It may seem awful now, but you will adapt to the limits of your body. We all have to. But I know it must be tough for you. I reviewed your charts from before you left for the ISS. You were the picture of health. And I know you worked very hard to get there. I suspect you will work just as hard to regain your health. Just keep in mind that there is only so far that road can take you. You mustn’t push yourself too hard, and more importantly, you mustn’t be too hard on yourself when your performance falls short of your own expectations. Indeed, managing your own expectations is perhaps the most important job you have now.”





Oscar and I walk home in silence. For some reason, my mind drifts to Harry, Grigory, Min, Lina, Charlotte, and Izumi. They’re the only reason I even got back to Earth. Their sacrifice is why I’m alive. I miss them. I can’t help thinking of them from time to time. I should be thankful I’m alive, thankful my situation isn’t worse than it is. I owe them. I wish I could repay them somehow. And I owe James. Probably more than I can ever repay.

We pass the barracks he took me to, where his brother and his family live. That gives me an idea. I need something good to happen. And I’m going to make it happen.





When James arrives home, he is exhausted. More exhausted than I’ve ever seen him. More exhausted than he ever was on the Pax, during the mission, during the height of the stress and the endless hours.

“What happened?”

He plops down on the couch and shakes his head.

“Endless questions. Endless debate. Me standing up there, talking, trying to explain a lifetime of science and a situation that’s more complex than I can even grasp. It was agony.”

“I’m sure they’re just trying to understand so they can make the best decision they can for the people they care about.”

“Or for themselves.”

“And for themselves.”

“I honestly don’t know how this is going to go.”

“How do you think it will go?”

“I see two possibilities. First, they could authorize the mission, and we have a real chance of survival—with more than a few thousand humans left. Or, they could decide that it’s hopeless. And they could turn inward.”

“Which means?”

“As of right now, the Atlantic Union is the only one of the three superpowers that knows the full truth of what we’re facing. There are only so many resources and so much habitable land left. They could act first.”

“Act first to do what?”

“Finish the war that’s really just on pause. My guess is they would attack the Caspian Treaty first. Make peace with the Pac Alliance until they consolidate the Caspian territories, then move on. That’s assuming the Pac Alliance doesn’t see the writing on the wall and declare war.”

I exhale. As usual, James has grasped the intricacies of the situation sooner than I have, probably sooner than everyone.

“What can we do about it?”

“Now? Nothing. We have to wait.”

There may be nothing else we can do.

But there’s still something I need to do.





After dinner, I retreat to my room and don a thick coat, pull on tall boots, and slip into my leather gloves. I’m at the door, putting on my earflap hat and scarf when James catches me.

“Where are you going?”

“To visit Madison,” I lie, trying to sound nonchalant.

He squints. “Now?”

“Sure.”

“It’s freezing out there.”

“It’s always freezing.”

He studies me.

I shrug. “I just need some fresh air. I need to get out for a little while.”