Page 26 of A Long Way Home

I flick my wrist to check the time. Time enough that I won’t be the first one sitting there waiting.

I reach the kitchen area, our make-shift emergency HQ whilst we sort through our current mess of affairs, at 0530 UTC – station time.

Pesquet, the brunette woman who came up with us, is beside Reiter, their noses in their datapads.

Matherson sits beside them, Clayton leaning on the back of the chair she tucked herself into.

Anderson and Aiko walk in just as I reach for a pouch of water, with blondeGigoloappearing mere seconds behind them. Likely trying to squeeze in more time with Alex, as if we’re expecting the inevitable.

What will flowery words and charming smiles do tosave her?Nothing.

Yuri moves forward through the room, crinkling a half-finished packet of pickle-flavoured crisps (if the picture on the front is anything to go by) in his hand as he munches.

My stomach lurches, reminding me I haven’t eaten since I left Earth.

“Shall we get started?” Clayton’s eyes coast over the room as we all crowd around the make-shift conference table, in a space designed to accommodate no more than one, maximum two persons.

“Where do we stand with the lab?” Clayton asks.

“It’s–”

“We–”

Gigolotries to talk over me, and I glare at him, silently waiting until he concedes.

Clayton sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face before he points to me. “Matty, go.”

“There’s a breach in the hull. Left side of the Columbus module. Appears to be inside a wall cavity, likely caused by the…” I flail my hand a little, my tongue counting each tooth as I search for the right word. “...Schweißbrenner. Chelenko was using it for maintenance right before the meteor storm.”

Luca nods. “I saw him welding in the far corner.”

“And…”

Everyone pauses. Matherson looks up from her datapad.

“A micro meteor from the storm tore clean through the top of the lab.”

Reiter rolls his eyes. He is my closest friend, but we have conflicting opinions on a number of topics – the protective capabilities of a Whipple shield, or rather the destructive capabilities of micro meteors, is up there. Right alongside the possibility of time dilation, and his fascination with Xeno paleobiology, or ‘lizardmen’ that he is convinced exist.

“Alex saw a meteor inside the station,” I add.

“She could be mistaken.” Hadfield offers, “Alex will not be in the best state of mind considering her current predicament.”

“She saw it. I believe her.” I say.

“Any good news?” Clayton urges, with a hopeful look.

“I calculate they have,” I look down at the Breitling, nestled on my wrist. “Four hours of air.”

“I’ll start a countdown.” Matherson chimes in as she hunches over her datapad,4:00:00blinks in big foreboding font on the large screen over the table, immediately beginning the countdown.

Each moment dropping away, second by second, the numbers flicking, time depleting, and making my throat tighten at the thought of Alex alone.

I tug at the collar of my t-shirt, easing the zip down on my flight suit in an attempt togive myself some breathing space, and stave off the fear threatening to climb back up from the depths of Hell it was cast.

“Ok, people. Let’s huddle.” Clayton prompts the silent crowd.

“Environmental controls won’t let us open the hatch now it’s sealed shut. Not unless it detects the same pressure on both sides.” Yuri strokes his chin, thinking aloud.

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