“A COMPUTER MALFUNCTION,” Krieger was saying. Her voice was high and nervous, her hands doing almost as much talking as she was. “Improbable accident. We are most definitely going to find out what happened.”
Krieger’s flitting hands settled as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Her fingernails, painted into pink, sharp tips, dug into the sleeves of her silver brocaded suit jacket.
I sat perched on the edge of a cot in the medical wing. Mitsuko sat beside me, her warm presence a comfort even as we shared dubious expressions. They’d insisted on everyone being evaluated by a doctor, so despite the fact that I felt fine, I was stuck there until the white-coat had finished with Emilio and made her way over to me. And since Emilio was the only one with an actual injury, the rest of us were going to be there awhile.
I could see them, way over in the far corner—Emilio shirtless and prone in bed, wincing, as the doctor palpated around his ribs, where a dark red bruise had begun to form.
Krieger had come rushing in not long after we’d arrived, with Pierce hot on her heels. They both stood at the end of the cot where Mitsuko and I sat. Luka stood beside me, Boris and the others clustered on the opposite side of the bed.
“That was no accident.” Pierce froze her with a look that seemed to physically shut Krieger’s mouth. He had his arms crossed, too, but his short-sleeved T-shirt revealed ropy-muscled arms. I’d never seen him in casual wear. He was actually wearing sweatpants. “Someone hacked into the system and put it into total lockdown. The simulation was never supposed to involve an actual oxygen-deprivation scenario, and the hatch door should never have been locked. These kids—who are under NASA’s protection, by the way—were in real danger, Ms. Krieger. Your boss and I are about to have some words.”
Pierce turned his gaze to us, the mottled and sad-looking former crew of the SLH, and it softened considerably. The fact that he’d just said all of that in front of us meant he was either too pissed off to care, or thought we deserved some measure of truth.
After the oxygen had come back on, I’d been able to make it back up to Emilio on top of the tank, but from there we were stuck. The ventilation shaft had been too high to reach, so we were the last to be “rescued.” Emilio had had to be carried out of the hole they’d cut into the side of the living quarters with a blowtorch.
Pierce had been the one to carry him.
I was starting to soften to the old jerk.
“You kids sure you’re all right?” he asked. Mitsuko and I shrugged and nodded. I could tell Boris was about to speak, but Mitsuko glared him into silence.
Luka stood behind us and the bed, refusing even to sit. “We are unharmed, although someone intended the opposite.”
“Believe me, I’m no more happy about what happened than you are,” Pierce said, his voice grave. “You’d better believe I’m going to find out what really happened.” He sent a pointed look Krieger’s way, unfolded his arms, and left.
Not till Pierce was out of sight did Krieger relax. “Well, now,” she said, putting on a shaky smile. “Aren’t we glad that’s over?”
“How could you let this happen?” Mitsuko pressed. “We could’ve been killed!”
The pasted-on smile grew bigger, Krieger reaching a hand toward Mitsuko as if to comfort her. Mitsuko batted it away, and Krieger pretended not to notice. “Rest assured, we’ll launch a full inquiry into what happened. But, my brave young souls, space travel is inherently dangerous. You knew this before you began.”
They definitely weren’t telling us everything, and it was clear they weren’t going to. I just wanted to get back to my room, away from all the people I’d seen entirely too much of, and be unconscious. For a long, long time.
“You’ll have the rest of today to do as you please.” Always the optimist, Krieger switched tacks. “A nice day to rest. Catch up on your beauty sleep!” She bit her lip in a rare show of uncertainty. “This may change how we proceed with the rest of the competition,” she said, as though she was thinking aloud. “I will have to discuss this with Mr. Crane. He will not be pleased.” Then, as if she remembered she was surrounded by a gaggle of tired, bruised, and very unhappy people, she put her happy face back on. “I’ll have the cooks prepare a marvelous spread for you all. We’ll pull out all the stops.”
We were dismissed.
Finally, after a hot shower, I was in my bed, with a full belly of the decadent breakfast food that they’d delivered straight to our rooms. I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to take me. I hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in a week, and even though it was barely noon, I fully expected to be unconscious in seconds.
But I stared at the ceiling for twenty minutes, sleep eluding me.
Probably because Mitsuko seemed unable to stop pacing. And ranting, oblivious to the fact that I was trying to sleep.
“That woman,” Mitsuko began. “Emilio has a broken rib and all she can say is ‘Oops, sorry, you knew what you were getting into!’ We almost suffocated. During a routine simulation.”
“I know,” I muttered. “I was there.”
“Pierce seems to think something’s up. So what’s with Krieger and this cover-up bullshit? I’m telling you, Cass, if I don’t get some straight answers—”
I sat up. There was no way I’d get to sleep now, anyway. “You’re right,” I said. “Let’s go talk to Pierce. If he’s correct that this was deliberate, we have a right to know.”
Her mouth formed a hard smile. “I knew I liked you, Cass.”
We met Emilio and Anton in the hall, carrying a tray of food to their room. “Hey, where you going?” Emilio asked.
“To get some answers,” I replied.
Confusion knitted his brow. “Do I even want to know?”
“If you do, you’ll come with us,” Mitsuko replied.
He hesitated, looking down at his tray. There were two plates piled with pancakes, eggs, and bacon, which wasn’t weird for Emilio, but also two cinnamon rolls at least the size of my fist.
“Didn’t they bring food to our rooms?” Mitsuko asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I wanted seconds. Hey, I earned it,” he protested. “Anton has to carry my tray because I can’t.”
“You fell down and bruised some ribs,” Mitsuko said. “Big whoop. Cass just about died trying to save us.”
“Hey, I helped!” He hesitated a moment, looking between Anton and the plates of food he held on the tray. “Okay, fine,” he said to Mitsuko. He pivoted on his heel to follow us. “Just—leave me some pancakes, all right, Antonio?”
“No promises,” came Anton’s voice as he and the food disappeared into their room.
At his office, Colonel Pierce appeared haggard, and about as annoyed as I’d expected to see us all appear at his door. But to my surprise, he stepped aside and invited us in. Mitsuko stormed in, clearly ready to demand some answers. Emilio and I filed in quietly behind her.
His utilitarian office was unchanged from the last time we’d been here, except for the narrow fold-up cot wedged in across from the desk. The makeshift bed was much smaller even than our own, with obviously slept-in bedding. Copeland had made a point of telling us the RAs didn’t sleep here. Maybe Pierce had made an exception.
“You sleep here?” Emilio asked, bluntly stating the obvious.
Pierce merely sighed, a long and tired sound, and I felt suddenly bad for intruding on his personal space. He sat at his desk facing us, leaned back, and steepled his fingers. “I take it Krieger provided very little information.”
That put Mitsuko off balance. “Well, yeah.”
“Figures. She’s all about PR, and this could rain shit down on her company if the public finds out. Which they will not. We have this place locked up tighter than a nuclear submarine.” He looked grim. “At least, I thought we did.”
“Was it a malfunction, sir?” Emilio asked.
Pierce shook his head slowly. “I do not believe so.”
Emilio lowered his voice. “Sabotage? Do you have evidence? Should we be worried? Is someone trying to derail the mission?”
Pierce gazed steadily at us, expression unreadable. “Someone who knew what they were doing wanted to make it look like an accident. But there was no way that hatch locked on its own. No way the radio went out by accident. Someone would have had to hack into our simulation computers and override our fail-safes. Look, I’m going to level with you kids.” He leaned forward on his elbows. “It will take a lot of time and manpower to comb through our code to trace the origin of the hack. We can’t guarantee your safety. We’re going to try. But whoever did this might try again.”
Pierce leaned back. “We’ve locked down this wing to only those closest to the project: me, Krieger, Crane, Felix, and your instructors. Tomorrow you kids will have a day off while we figure out how to proceed.”
I looked at Mitsuko.
“That’s all?” Mitsuko asked.
Pierce’s mouth twisted to one side and he shrugged. “Best I can do. You know where the door is.”
“Thanks for nothing.” Mitsuko clenched her fists, huffed loudly, and stalked out the door.
The two of us lingered, unsure whether to follow.
“We appreciate your candor,” Emilio said, surprising me with his formality.
With Mitsuko gone, Pierce became almost gentle with us. He heaved another sigh and looked suddenly tired, his age showing. “Is there anything else I can do for you kids?”
“Thank you,” Emilio said. “You saved our lives. If you hadn’t told us where to go . . .”
Pierce lifted his chin, and for a moment I saw a glimpse not of the hero I’d worshipped for years, or the cranky taskmaster, but of the man who’d left the first human footprint on Mars and survived to tell the tale. “Your safety is my responsibility. But you kids saved yourselves. I expected no less.”
“That was weird,” I said as we walked back to our rooms.
Emilio gave a snort of agreement and paused by my door. “You want to hang out with us? It’s just me and Anton. I’m gonna try to see if they’ll let us watch TV or something. Play the sympathy card. Worth a shot, right?”
I offered a smile. “Thanks. No offense, but I think I need some time alone.”
He shot me one back. “Yeah, yeah.” He glanced up and down the hall, then leaned in closer to me. “You did good. Back . . . there. Sorry I screwed up and left you to do it all alone.”
“You didn’t screw up. You were wounded in the line of duty; they should give you a medal.” That made him laugh, then wince and grab his side. “How are your ribs, anyway? Mitsuko never even gave me the chance to ask.”
He shrugged and lifted a corner of his shirt to show me the wicked purple bruise stretching over his side. “Maybe a hairline fracture. Gave me a shot so I won’t even notice how much it sucks until later.”
There was a moment of awkward silence between us. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” I said quietly. “Thank you.”
He gave me a smile and squeezed my shoulder, then went back into his room.
I lingered in the hall. And before I could question what I was doing, I was knocking on Luka’s door.
He was lying on top of his made bed, reading from a small, well-worn paperback. I wasn’t surprised to find him alone. He hadn’t had roommates since before wilderness survival.
It was strange how normal he looked. Why we had all regarded him as a god for the first two weeks, I didn’t know. He was just like the rest of us. Maybe a little stronger, maybe a little luckier—but that’s all.
“Hi,” he said, sitting up and marking his page. He seemed mildly surprised, but not uncomfortable with my intrusion. “Come in.”
“I was just . . .” Why had I come? Think of a reason, quickly! “Wanted to see if you were up for a run. I can’t . . .” I gestured vaguely toward my room.
Luka stared at me for a second, then sprang up soundlessly. “I could do with some fresh air.”
Maybe it was some lingering effect of the hypoxia, or the exhaustion that had sunk into my bones, but I just couldn’t muster enough energy to actually run. Instead, Luka walked with me around the track at a leisurely pace. A cool breeze hinted at the coming fall, and I almost wished for a jacket.
His quiet company was welcome. Silence had been hard to find inside the SLH.
Soon, though, he gave me a sidelong look and asked, “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I replied. “We all survived without any lasting effects.”
“Thanks to you.” He stopped, and so did I. “We were relying on you.”
“I was relying on you,” I retorted. “Your voice? On the radio? It was the only thing that kept me moving. My vision was going. I was . . .” I shook off the memory. “By the way, how were you so calm and composed? I was so close to blacking out.”
He shrugged both shoulders, eyes focusing out into the black night beyond the fence. “You were in a small space. Less air. And I did not have to do anything more exhaustive than speak into a radio.”
“I’m glad it was you,” I said quietly as we headed back inside. “Anyway. You know what I mean.”
The corner of his mouth perked up. “You would have done the same.”
Hearing my words echoed back to me, my cheeks flared hot. “So we’re even now.”
He shook his head. “No, no. This is twice you’ve saved my life.”
“It’s not a competition.”
“Isn’t it?” He smiled to show he was joking.
There was a subtle shift between us. A mutual understanding. He’s your competition, a voice in the back of my head reminded me. You still have to beat him.
“Thanks for walking with me,” I said as we neared our respective doors. “I think I might be able to sleep now.”
He hesitated; then he took a few steps back toward his room. “See you later.”
I went back to our room, where Mitsuko had gone to take a long, and I presume very hot, shower. I turned out the light, crawled under the covers, and was asleep in seconds.