“G’day, Marc,” she said with feigned cheeriness.
He grunted something and shuffled over for coffee.
Raoul drained his mug and joined him at the food prep center. They talked, their words drowned out by the noise of the microwave. Julia shot a quick look at Viktor, but he was absorbed in his electronic news. She felt a gathering storm in the air. To give herself something to do, she grabbed a deck of cards—the fourth they had worn out on this mission—and started laying them out for solitaire.
For a while after Marc and Raoul returned to the table, the loudest sound was the gentle slapping of the cards. Viktor resolutely stared at his slate. He’s not going to give them any openings.
The silence stretched between them.
Finally, Raoul looked at Viktor and said, “We want to talk about who goes back with Airbus.”
Viktor looked up. “Who is ‘we’?”
“Marc and I.”
Viktor shrugged. “What is there to discuss? Axelrod is making deal with Airbus for space, but I have final decision about who goes.”
“We don’t agree with that.” Raoul frowned. “We want a more equal shot at that berth.”
“Look, Viktor,” Marc cut in hurriedly. “You’ve been very fair so far on workloads, assignments, and all that. You haven’t favored Julia, everyone knows that. But this is different. There’s no way you could make this decision without personal considerations coming into it.”
“Yeah,” said Raoul. “This could mean life or death. But we’re not in the military, and we’re not gonna stand for a battlefield command decision. Each of us has an equal right to that slot.”
“I remind you that Airbus captain thinks he will pick,” said Viktor mildly.
“I’m not worried about Chen,” growled Raoul. “And I don’t want to have a fight about it here. Let’s just draw straws. That way I have a one in four chance to get home and see my son.”
“I agree,” said Marc. “It’s the fairest way.”
“I agree with Viktor. We should use other criteria than the luck of the draw to pick,” said Julia.
“Figures,” said Marc.
Julia steamed. “May I remind you that I was offered that berth, and I turned it down.”
“So you say,” said Raoul.
“Yeah, why did you?”
“What?” Julia was furious. “Are you implying that I didn’t?”
“I just find it hard to believe, the way you described it,” said Raoul. “You sure there wasn’t more to it?”
“Like what?” she demanded.
“Like some kinda agreement to say no publicly, and then have Viktor pick you.” Raoul shrugged.
“Or Axelrod,” said Marc. “You’re his favorite. He kicked me off when you asked him to.”
“Either way, you go home, but you look noble,” said Raoul grimly.
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this!” said Julia. “I said no to Chen without thinking a lot about it. It just seemed wrong, that’s all. Anyway, what he wants is the Marsmat, not me. I suspect he’ll ask each of you in turn the same thing. And from what I hear, neither of you would hesitate to sell the rest of us out.”
She glared at them.
“Okay. Let us draw straws,” said Viktor’s calm voice.
“What?” Julia looked at him in astonishment. “Viktor, what are you doing?”
“Uncertainty is tearing us apart. Is better to know.”
“That’s more like it.” Raoul smiled and visibly relaxed.
“Anyone have any spare broom straws?” asked Julia bitterly.
“Yeah, what do we use?” asked Marc. He looked around. “We don’t actually have any straws.”
“We play Russian Roulette with cards,” said Viktor. “Is old Russian military tradition for settling disputes.”
“Huh?”
Viktor reached for the deck of cards, still laid out on the table for solitaire. He hunted around, pulled out the ace of spades, held it up. “This is short straw. I bury it in the deck,” he said, demonstrating. “Shuffle it, person to pick cuts deck, takes card. Wrong cards are not replaced. Shuffle after each pick. Finally, someone finds ace.”
“Sounds okay to me,” said Raoul.
“Me too,” agreed Marc.
“Julia?” Viktor looked at her. “All must agree.”
