He emphasized the word with a sweeping gesture—and knocked his mug off the table. It hit the deck and shattered.
Everyone gasped. Raoul turned, dumbfounded. He gazed down at the shards that clinked to a stop against the walls. His horrified look, mouth half open in wrenched despair, froze the moment in Julia’s mind as the depth of their own disintegration swept over her.
30
JANUARY 29, 2018
THIS TIME HER DREAMS WEREN’T ABOUT SWIMMING. THEY WERE SHORT, disconnected fragments. She couldn’t seem to really get to sleep. She finally gave up and sat up in bed. Her throat was raw, her shoulders ached. She felt goosebumps on her legs. Realization dawned slowly. I’m sick. I must have a fever. Feels like the flu.
But how? An infection? But Mars was sterile. We’ve been isolated together for over two years. We can’t get sick anymore.
This phenomenon was first noted on submarines. Any incubating viruses made the rounds once. Then the crew were all immune and nobody got sick anymore. It must be Airbus. Just my luck. I caught something from that weasel Chen.
A thought prickled the back of her mind. The vent life. She had been exposed without her helmet. That’s absurd. This is real life, not some tabloid fantasy. She tried to push the thought back, failed.
Viktor stirred, reached for her in his sleep. She gently removed his arms. But he was persistent. Finally, after a couple more skirmishes, he awoke. “Something wrong? What time is it?”
“It’s not quite midnight. I think I’ve got a fever, and I don’t want you to get it.”
He was instantly concerned. “You are sick? With what?”
“It’s probably a virus from Airbus.” She hesitated. “At least I hope it is.”
“What else could it be?”
“Viktor, what if it’s a reaction to the Mars life?”
“I thought it was not likely to react with us.”
“No, it isn’t. That’s really a far-fetched idea, but I can’t absolutely rule it out.”
“Is fever speaking, not biologist. You have Chinese variety of flu, probably.”
“Oh, God, when they find out about this on Earth, I’ll never be allowed back home.”
“We say nothing. You be careful in front of camera, is all.”
“Well, they have nothing to worry about, since I’m not going back.”
“Maybe you should. Chen offered you the berth.”
“How could I live without you for two years?”
“Have busy time with ticker-tape parades, TriVid shows, lectures.”
“That’s not what I want to do.”
“Work on vent life in fancy lab on Earth, then.”
“Hah. I’ll probably never be able to touch my samples again. Every A-list microbiologist on the planet will want to work on them. I have no special credentials. I’m just the discoverer. Besides, Axelrod will sell ’em to the highest bidder anyway.”
“Will be tough here. I would feel better if you were safe.”
“Viktor, I’m not going to go without you. And that’s final.”
“Three guys here could—”
She put a hand over his mouth. “Wait a minute. What’s that noise?”
He sighed. “Marc and Raoul, drunk and singing.”
“They’re drunk?”
“After you went to bed, Raoul brought out bottle of tequila. That one he was talking about opening after launch, remember?”
“Sounds like bad news. Depression plus alcohol.”
“I had one shot only, then came in here.”
“Well, it sounds like they’ve patched things up.”
“Both pretty tense today.”
“What’s the captainly thing to do here?”
“Sleep.”
She wasn’t going to sleep, not with a red-raw throat. And something in the tone of the words, though she could not make them out, sounded faint warning bells. Viktor believed in a rather formal standard of leadership, however, with strict compartments between professional and private behavior. How to get around that? “Um… I could use some entertainment.”
