Page 200 of Seven Oars
With an almost inhuman effort, she shot across the threshold and fell into Fincros’arms.
The door slid shut.
*****
Eze had already pulled out the spacesuits.
“Now comes the fun part,” she said, exhaling like a fighter prepping for a sparring match.
The suits were one-size-fits-all, shapeless onesies, gray, and they reminded Rosamma of body bags. They reeked of chemicals embedded in the material to repel radiation.
There were only two.
“They are safe to use,” Fincros assured them.“Thilza and I did a lot of work on the outside of the station.”
Yay.
Eze slipped into the first one and strapped on the supply backpack, connecting its cords and wires.
“Ready.” She didn’t sound all that ready.
Gro handed her the helmet. It had a screen on the inside, projecting all kinds of information: pressure, oxygen, temperature levels.
Eze fumbled with the controls, getting them to work. The seconds dragged.
Fincros placed his hand over Rosamma’s, drawing her attention to how tightly she was gripping his bicep.“We’ve got time.”
“What if they find a way to open that door?”
“It’s a fireproof door, not easy to open. We’ve got time,” he repeated.
Rosamma pushed the second spacesuit toward Gro, whose eyes turned glassy.
“You should take the next turn, Rosamma. You’re way better than me with logistics.”
Rosamma shook her head.“We agreed. Please, let’s not waste time arguing.”
She unfolded the suit and began stuffing Gro into it. Gro stood by meekly, not helping.
“You’re worried about the pirates breaking down the door,” Gro tried again.“I’m not. So I can wait here while you go. Save yourself the nerves. That door’s stronger than it looks. Now that I’m thinking about it, they may never get out. And if they don’t, someone should probably open it for them.”
“You don’t know how to open that door, my friend.” Rosamma sealed the suit’s flaps around Gro’s butt.
“Maybe I don’t need to go with you. Fincros said the capsule’s only for two people, and I…”
Fincros found the helmet by feel and plopped it on Gro’s head, cutting off her stream of consciousness. Screwing the knobs tightly, he pressed his face to the glass.
“Remember to stay tethered.”
He shoved her toward the open chute.
“There are rails that go along the sides,” he shouted at Eze to be heard through the helmet.“And the capsule’s airlock is small! Must get in feet first.”
“Aye-aye, captain.”
Eze climbed into the chute after Gro. It was a tight fit. They nested there like two giant infants in the womb, with their big round helmets and saggy rompers with sealed flaps and three-claw mittens.
Following Fincros’signal, Rosamma activated the trash chute. The aperture began to shrink.
