“One of the new crew has put Kibo back in action. Guess we’re back in our own crew cabins tonight,” I say.
His grip loosens on my waist as he strokes one hand up my spine.
Clayton’s deep baritone voice cuts through the rising tension, tinny through the comms, “Kid, you on your way to Columbus yet?”
I tap my comms to reply, “Heading there now.” I look up at my blonde Adonis, “I have to go, Luca. See you later.”
“Promise?” A playful smirk plays across his lips.
My throat tightens, and I know if I speak my voice will wobble, and my thin veneer will crack. So, I plaster on my best media smile and nod instead.
I really need to sortmy head out.
ALEX
CHAPTER FOUR
Switch out the old parts, weld this plate back in place, and move on to the next panel. On and on I go.
I’ve always loved this. Good, old-fashioned, hands-on work. Working with my hands helps keep my mind wonderfully blank. The feel of cold steel against my skin, the smell of heated solder wafting through the air, and the comforting familiarity of the stir-friction welder in my grasp.
Back on Earth, I was part of a team developing new techniques to remove the opaque capacities of materials, essentially turning steel or even wood as transparent as glass, but without compromising on the structural integrity. It was cutting-edge R&D, but right in this moment, I’m no better than an overqualified mechanic hiding out with basic circuitry.
I would be lying if I said I wasn’t glad about it.
That’s one of the many reasons Müller and I never worked. He was too ambitious, always striving ahead in–
“Nope.” I shake my head.
I’m not thinking about him.
Just work.
Chelenko has been working on getting the Columbus lab module repaired and back up to working order. Ittook a heavy hit in the form of budget cuts, but it’s wasted space up here when every inch matters, and so it’s currently something of a passion project until the ESA decides they want the lab recommissioned.
The last time I saw Columbus in action was when I had my own experiments to perform here. That was over five years ago. Now it sits empty, waiting to be wanted again.I know the feeling.
The once cutting-edge technology has aged, failing to keep up with modern progress. The whole station has. The ISS needs a huge overhaul.
Perhaps that is why Chelenko enjoys it. I wonder if he likes the solitude. He is akin to a lone hermit crab scuttling along in a sea of stars.
What does he think about me encroaching upon his solitary existence?I wonder as the snip of his wire cutters sound behind me, echoing from his end of the room. I hear the whir of his friction welder spinning up, before the rumble of it pressing against the metal.
I follow his lead and fire up my device.
Finally, peace once more.
I relax into the methodical, routine fixes that even a grad student could complete.
After a long, stretching moment, there’s a knock on the stainless-steel panel above me. Sliding out from underneath, welding tool in hand, I push up my goggles.
Long, elegant fingers tap rhythmically against the metal. A small smile tugs at my lips.
“Are you free?Solo for uno memento?” Luca asks, his eyes darting to the grinding and sparking over in the corner, where Chelenko continues to beaver away with a work ethic past Soviet Russia would be proud of.
I nod, smiling as he pulls me up to him. He wraps me in his arms and buries his nose in my hair as he inhales. “I missed you.”
“You just saw me,” I protest.
