Vessel Page 8

  'You must leave Progress and negotiate the station externally, re-entering via Quest.'

  Sally guessed judging by the ashen colour Gardner's face had taken that this was bad.

  'An — an EVA? To Quest?' Gardner stammered, radio protocol forgotten.

  'Copy, Progress, we want you to perform an EVA to the Quest module.'

  Gardner didn't say anything, just licked his lips. Aleks continued.

  'Use the handholds along the station to make your way to Quest. You wont be able to clip on, but with careful negotiation, the risk of detachment should be minimal.'

  Gardner tried to scratch his head, his hand banging against his visor. He looked at it, surprised. He seemed to have lapsed into a stupor.

  'Gardner, are you there?'

  He blinked, freeing himself from his dumbstruck gaze.

  'Er, yeah — yeah I'm here … what do we do once we reach Quest?' he said. Sally realised that the pain in her chest was a result of her holding her breath and she puffed out, steaming her visor. The mist vanished in the same way her hope had. She watched Gardner, almost as if waiting for him to announce her death sentence.

  'Progress, once you've reached Quest you should be able to open the outer airlock externally. Enter, seal the outer airlock and flood the chamber. Then you will be safely on the station's life support.'

  'But — doesn't that assume that the inner airlock is closed? What if it's not closed?'

  Aleks' voice seemed absent for a long time, but it could have been dreadful anticipation playing tricks with Sally's mind.

  'That's correct,' Aleks said, 'but with the recent solar storm, all the internal hatches will have been closed — including the Quest inner airlock. The station should still be in this state of protection as no orders have been given to stand down.'

  'Okay …' was all Gardner seemed able to say.

  'Pressure inside the orbital module is at thirteen percent, and the oxygen in your suits is at ninety-four percent, so you have two hours and twelve minutes to make the EVA. Take your time, move slowly and carefully. Once you've left the range of the orbital module broadcast unit we will no longer have radio contact. Good luck.'

  'Thanks,' Gardner said. And then Aleks was gone.

  'So what do we do now?' Sally asked, although she knew full well what the answer would be. A small part of her still believed she'd misunderstood what was about to happen, and she clung to it even though she knew it was hopeless. Gardner's eyes seemed to look through her rather than at her, as hollow and empty as the orbital module itself.

  'We go outside,' he said.

  Chapter 10

  'God? He found god?'

  Sean felt more than a little perplexed, his pen frozen mid-word on the pad.

  'So he says,' Lev said.

  'What exactly did he see?'

  Lev pulled a face, dismissing himself of the question. 'No one knows but him. I don't think it was necessarily what he saw that made him do what he did, but what he felt. A presence, if you like.'

  'Is this the same as the philosophical crap astronauts seem to go through when they see Earth for the first time?'

  'I suppose so, yes. I've been led to believe that seeing Earth in that manner is a very profound and humbling experience.'

  'But Gardner had already been up once before.'

  'He had.'

  'So if he was fine the first time, what happened to him the second time?'

  Lev shrugged.

  Sean could see from a mile off that this was a dead end — at least for now. Time to change the subject. 'Let's talk about Sally Fisher,' he said.

  'I don't know anything about Sally Fisher. She was brought in by Bales. I think she's NASA.'

  'I think she's SETI.'

  Lev shifted in his seat.

  'If she's SETI,' Sean continued, 'what's she doing on board a hastily-converted Russian resupply mission?'

  Lev took a breath. 'She's a communication expert who —'

  'I appreciate you need to protect yourself,' Sean said, 'but that doesn't mean you can serve me shit and call it steak. NASA values the work SETI does, and no doubt Sally Fisher is a comms genius, but there's no hope in hell of any SETI bod making it to space — unless there's something up there we didn’t invite.' The words were satisfying as they came off his tongue. Then he noticed an odd thing: Lev looked frightened.

  'It seems you've got it all figured out,' he said.

  Sean shuffled to the edge of the bed, closer to Lev. He spoke in a low voice. 'I know a lot more than you think I do, but I don't know half as much as I want to. You know something more. Something important. You're here because that something is driving you off the rails. Never mind that stuff about Gardner — you've got a weight you need off your shoulders. Well, here I am to take that weight. Talk to me.'

  Lev looked out of the four-storey window, watching a small passenger jet puncture the low, grey clouds. 'I know who Bales is and what he's doing. But — but telling you is a hell of a risk for me. I'm not sure if I can do it.'

  He stood, knocking the table and making it wobble.

  'I have to go,' he said, and all at once he was leaving the room. The door clinked shut behind him.

  'Godammit,' Sean said.

  * * *

  The hole was the darkest thing Sally had ever seen. Despite the abundance of shining white prickles, the blackness in between seemed to suck the light away to nothing — and she was about to go out there.

  'Keep one hand on a handhold at all times,' Gardner said, 'particularly as you exit the hatch. And stay close. Let me know if I'm moving too fast.'

  Although her body trembled with the same nerves as Gardner's voice did, Sally nodded her understanding, trying to keep her focus on the cosmic abyss in front. Gardner reached out and grasped the lip of the hatch.

  'I'm going to climb out first. I'll let you know when I'm clear so you can follow.'

  He shut his eyes, took a breath, then threaded himself through the hatch, gently spinning and rolling a little here and there to keep on track. Sally watched him, the ball in her stomach fast becoming a writhing jelly. A shock of adrenaline fizzed down to her fingers and toes when Gardner's feet disappeared from view altogether. She waited, alone.

  'Sally, you can come out now. Go slowly. Take your time.'

  Surprising herself, she kicked off against the module, drawing the gaping hole closer. So far, weightlessness had felt like swimming, but it fast became apparent that once she was in free motion, no amount of waving her arms or kicking her legs would adjust her course. She tumbled as she headed towards the hatch, clawing and grabbing to find purchase and right her course. She hit the far side of the module backwards, and the shock of the unexpected stop sent a blackness to her vision that almost made her pass out.

  'Let me know if you need some help, okay?' Gardner said.

  Sally had found a handhold that she clung to with a panic-strong grip. She didn't need her thumping chest and burning throat to remind her she'd nearly drifted off into space, to tumble forever with no hope of return.

  'I'm fine,' she croaked. 'Just give me a minute.'

  Despite her undeniable introversion, Sally had made it her life's work never to be beaten. She had surprised others — and herself — many times before, and she felt a familiar determination feeding strength to her body, pushing her to do what she never thought she could. It was the same feeling she had somehow conjured when she'd won the Barry Goldwater Scholarship at MIT, despite her father dying in a car accident a month before; the same feeling when she had pitted her mind against CalTech's brightest to earn a communications contract despite the intense competition; the same feeling when she — at the age of six — had watched her mother fall asleep for the last time, succumbing to the hold of a tumour-riddled lymphatic system. Her death had been so gentle, so undramatic, and she would never forget just how hollow she had felt. It had seemed like she should cry, but the tears hadn't come. All she'd felt was insignificant, one of the billions of mammals on a rotat
ing ball of earth and rock, playing her part in the cleansing cycle of evolution.

  But that insignificance was nothing compared to what she felt now, looking out the hatch into the vastness of the universe. As she drew herself out, she saw something new, below the shimmering folds of the station's photovoltaic arrays, beaming an impossibly bright assortment of browns, blues, greens and greys — Earth.

  'Oh my god …' she breathed. Sally was far from religious, but looking at the sight below, the sentiment seemed apt.

  'How are you doing?' Gardner asked.

  He was down and to the left, clinging to the next module along, looking back up at her.

  'I'm okay. Just …' She took a breath. 'Just readying myself.'

  'Take your time.'

  The orbital module was almost spherical in shape, flattened at the nose where it mated with the station. It was shrouded in a shimmering foil that looked almost the same as the blankets given to runners after a race, and it was completely lacking in anything to hold on to. Gardner must have anticipated this.

  'Try to gather some of the material to pull yourself out with. Make sure you've got a firm grip with one hand before you let go with the other.'

  Sally could see that the foil had been bunched up and creased in a staggered pattern, and she reached out to grab a handful.

  'Be careful when you pull. The material is very delicate and tears easily.'

  She hesitated, then grasped a fresh ripple of foil. It thrummed in her hand as it crumpled, and although her logical brain understood why no sound joined it, her instinctive brain itched at its absence. It was now or never. She could pull herself out or she could stay here and suffocate. It sounded so simple in her head.

  'Here I go,' she said, easing herself out.

  'Good. Take your time, no sudden movements.'

  The slight tug against the foil was enough to arc her body out from the hatch, floating around until she was facing down towards the station. But she didn't stop turning, her momentum indefinite and unrestricted.

  'Tense your arms, slow yourself down,' Gardner said.

  She did so, squeezing her grip tight, trying to keep her breathing slow. The shimmering material flexed, its slippery folds sliding free of her grasp. Her dream of visiting space became a nightmare as the last few millimetres of foil slipped out from between her fingers. She tried to grab something — anything — but every brush of her gloved hand sent her that little bit further away from the module.

  'Help me!' she screamed, flailing and kicking as she inched away into infinite space.

  A sudden tug at her arm stopped her moving any further, and a strong grip pulled her back to the station.

  'I've got you …'

  Sally grabbed hold of the first protrusion she could find and pulled herself in close and tight. Inside her helmet, a lone drummer pounded away, her limbs throbbing to its beat.

  'You gave me a bit of a fright there,' Gardner said.

  'Thank you,' she gasped, 'thank you for saving me.'

  'No problem. We'll go when you're ready.'

  Once she'd calmed enough to continue — or at least calmed enough to unlock her rigid fingers from the handhold — they moved together in single file, arm over arm along the station's length.

  'Keep close, and tell me if I'm going too fast,' Gardner said.

  As they pulled themselves along, Sally tried to distract herself from the daunting chasm of space by reciting the modules over in her head as they passed them.

  FGB.

  Her arms ached already: holding herself flat against the surface of the module was asking a lot of her upper body. The moment she relaxed, even a little, she could feel her feet wanting to try and loop over the top of her. She gripped harder and moved on.

  PMA One.

  'Are you still okay?' Gardner asked. 'You're being very quiet.'

  'I'm fine. Let's keep going.'

  Muscles burned. Sally's hands and wrists felt numb from gripping so hard, and she could feel her grasp weakening with each swing.

  'Alright, difficult bit coming up. Try not to catch your suit on any of the masts.'

  Sally could see what Gardner was talking about. Ahead was the truss that crossed the station, supporting the great solar panels that grew outwards like wings. What was it called? Oh yes. S One.

  S One had a gathering of tricky protrusions sprouting from it, and Sally relished the chance to let her arms recover as she watched Gardner negotiate them. He moved slowly, checking to his left and to his right, then back again, making sure nothing caught. When he'd cleared the truss, he waved to Sally, and she moved towards it. Manoeuvring her torso across the truss was easy; it was her legs she found hard. Trying not to let herself loop around, she lifted one leg up and hooked it over — clear — and then the other — clear. Gardner turned away to continue on up the station, and Sally went to follow when —

  'I'm stuck!'

  Sally looked back to see what was stopping her moving forward. A small antennae had caught in her boot, tearing through and out the other side. She wriggled it, but the barbed nodules at the end of the antennae hung on tight. Gardner had paddled back to help, and was trying to look over her shoulder to see what had happened.

  'It's okay,' he said. 'It's only gone through your boot. Your suit's still sealed.'

  As reassuring as that was, it didn't stop Sally's pulse rising up again. She tugged again at her boot, but it was stuck fast. 'I can't bend round without making it worse,' she said, and Gardner nodded in his helmet.

  'I'm going to have to squeeze past,' he said. 'You'll have to move over to let me through.'

  The only way that was going to work was if Sally held on with one hand and leaned out to the side. 'Are you sure?'

  'I can't see any other way round that won't take longer than we've got.'

  That answered the question, but not in the way Sally wanted. She took a breath, preparing herself, then took another one. Then she held it for a bit.

  'Sorry to rush you Sally, but we really need to get a move on here.'

  Sally breathed out slowly. He was right — she had to do it. With one gentle swing, she pushed away from the station with one hand while holding on as tight as she could with the other. Silver station gave way to black space and she dangled, holding on with one hand and one stuck boot, listening to her blood thumping around her body at a hundred miles an hour.

  'I'm squeezing past, so hold on tight.'

  She felt Gardner brush against her, and already the strain on her hand, wrist and arm was beginning to show. 'Hurry,' she said.

  'I'm going as fast as I can.'

  There was a tug against her boot, a gentle one, then another harder one. With each slight movement she could feel the tendons in her forearm scream in unison, each one betraying her grip a fraction at a time.

  'Almost there …'

  Her little finger began to slip, weakening beyond her ability to control it any longer. She could feel her other fingers going the same way soon after. 'Please hurry …!'

  'Almost … there …'

  Her ring finger gave, then her middle finger. Her index finger pulsated with agony as she crushed it as hard as she could around the handhold; then it too gave way. She screamed, but before it had fully left her lungs she felt her boot snatch free and Gardner's hand grab her suit. He pulled her back to the station, and she cowered against it, looping her weak arm around a handhold.

  'That's twice you owe me now,' Gardner said, his voice brimming with relief.

  'Not funny,' Sally wheezed. She couldn't believe how out of breath she was. And how tired she felt. 'Let's get inside the station before anything else bad happens.'

  They moved on once again, and Sally noted in her head as they passed Z One and Node One to reach the base of Quest. By then not only was she physically exhausted, she was mentally exhausted, too: the concentration required was taking its toll, and she was starting to feel dizzy.

  'Nearly there.' Gardner said. He sounded tired, too. 'We just need to w
ork our way around the underside of Quest.'

  Quest, being as it was an entry and exit point for the station, bristled with an array of handrails, much to Sally's relief. Together they monkey-climbed their way around the cylindrical module until they were faced with a flat white hatch. Gardner took hold of the long lever recessed in its surface.

  'Come on,' he muttered. 'Please don't be locked …'

  The handle moved, unhindered, giving Gardner cause to whoop. Sally couldn't help but grin. Gardner lifted the hatch open, the flimsy disc wafting outwards.

  'You first,' he said.

  Resisting the urge to throw herself in, Sally moved from bar to bar and into the hole. Once in the airlock, she allowed her body to float to the other end. It was such a relief to be able to relax, to feel safe and not worry about drifting to a long, slow death. Gardner followed, locking the outer door behind him. Seeing him pull the lever home was almost delicious in its satisfaction.

  'Phew,' Gardner said. 'We're in.'

  He breezed over to her, tapping the walls and floor to guide his movement with expert precision. For some reason, the slippery motion made Sally's grin even wider. Or perhaps it was the elation of being alive? She didn't care which: the last time she had felt this relieved seemed so long ago.

  'I didn't see it,' Gardner said. 'UV One, I mean. Did you?'

  Sally's grin faded. 'I didn't even think to look.'

  * * *

  'Wait!' Sean shouted down the corridor after Lev, who turned out of sight. He darted back in for his key card then slammed the door shut and sprinted after him. Dodging an elderly couple, he charged around the corner to see a pair of elevator doors closing and no Lev in sight.

  'Damn …'

  The elderly couple shuffled past, both muttering something incomprehensible.

  'Sorry,' Sean said, embarrassed. The old lady shook her head, and they shuffled on.

  Wandering back to his room, Sean pulled out his mobile and dialled. It rang for a while. A voice answered.