Page 85 of The End of the World As We Know It
“But we’re…”
“We’re waiting,” Matt said.
“For what?”
“We have food and water for another twelve days. More, now that Hans and Frank…” He sighed. “By then, maybe something will have changed.”
“All that’s going to change in that time is more Captain Trips, more dead people, and less chance than ever of us bringingDiscoverydown.”
“Captain who?”
“It’s a name I heard for the flu. In France it’s ‘Gorge Noire.’ In New Zealand it’s ‘Whiu Hou.’ It’severywhere, Matt. We can’t assume anyone gives a fuck about us, and we can’t just wait for a miracle.”
“You know what we’ve got on this boat.”
Lizzie shrugged. Her hair had come loose, strands floating around her head like unruly snakes.
“If I try to land and we come apart in low atmosphere, we’ll spread radioactive contamination over hundreds of miles.”
“We won’t come apart.”
“The chance of me landingDiscoverysuccessfully with no copilot and precisely no help from Mission Control––”
“Don’t say zero,” Lizzie said.
“––is five percent. Probably less.”
“And the chance of us dying up here is one hundred.”
They watched the beautiful, dying planet passing them by.
“That’s not chance,” Matt said. “That’s certainty.”
“Pedant.”
Gemma opens one of their food lockers and brings out the bags of freeze-dried rations. A spot of blood lands on her forearm and rolls across her skin like an excited bug. She blows on it. It lifts away, drifting. She is shaking.
… scritch… scritch…
She looks at the door to her left, leading into the air lock and payload bay beyond. Frank and Hans are through there, dead, wrapped in their sleeping bags, and something is scratching at the door.
… scritch…
“Go away,” she says. Soft, so the others won’t hear.
Why don’t you want them to hear?a voice asks from beyond the door. It’s impossible. But she has heard this voice before.
“Go away!”
They already hear you talking in your sleep, apologizing to your father when there is nothing to apologize for, you never meant to––
Gemma slams her hand on the locker, loud, and the voice ceases. She runs her fingers across the top of the food packages, counting. With Frank and Hans dead, there is more for them, and Matt has already said they can ration. Twelve days, maybe more. Their mission was only supposed to be four days long, so their return is already two days overdue. These extra packets were only ever in case of emergency.
Gemma laughs, and it comes out as a loud yelp. “Emergency!”
“Gemma, you okay?” Lizzie floats down from the flight deck.
…scritch… scritch…
