“My father.” His voice nothing but a soft murmur.
I look down at his half-exposed chest, at the intricate silvery scars weaving across his torso, at all the hurt.Did his dad…
“Your scars…?”
He nods. “A gift from him.”
That’s horrific. Barbaric. Who could, who would…?“That must have been hard.”
“Alex,spasibo. For being with me.” He squeezes my hand. I barely feel the pressure.
“We will get out of heretogether,” I promise, hoping that I'm not proven a liar.
He nods again.
“And I’ll make the crew throw you a party. It’ll be loud, and in your face, and you’ll hate it.” I laugh as a tear tracks down my cheek.
“Happy people.” Is all he manages before he slips back into slumber. His gentle breathing is a soothing lullaby to my ears.
I release his hand, tucking it inside the blanket. Rising from the ground to survey the rest of the Columbus module.
Against the back wall there is a flutter of fabric, a tell-tale sign of my dwindling air escaping. I gulp back the fear of my reality.
Summoning work-mode Alex, I push off into the room. My eyes glide over the racks and cabinets, taking inventory. The first two transparent fronted cabinets are a non-starter, unless I want to release hundreds of glass shards to float about Columbus like tiny little mines.
The tool rack is over to the left, the contents a little more strewn about than before but still well contained beneath their velcro straps - stir friction welders, an array of wire cutters, screw drivers, wrenches… nothing finesse enough to open the door without risking the rest of the station.
Heat bumps against me like snubbing out a match against my skin.
“Shit.” I flinch, looking down at the small hunk of rock drifting away from my exposed ankle.
I resist the urge to kick the bloody pebble that got me into this mess. If the singed patch of skin is anything to go by, then it would probably just set my sock on fire.
The small meteor drifts onwards, forging its own path as it attempts to burn a small opening through a fabric supply crate. I push the crate forward, away from the meteor. “Last thing we need is a fire in here,” and watch as the small pebble continues on undeterred.
I look up at where I saw the meteor originally enter the station, reaching for the metal paneling. I finger the small hole, barely wider than my fingertip, and feel a faint suction against my skin.
“See, already found the problem. We’ll be out of here in no time.” I turn back to Chelenko’s unconscious form. “Nothing a little solder can’t fix.”
I grab the stir friction welder, line up the solder around the edges and fire it up. The metal easily heats, melting together to form a small scar in the metal paneling.
My lips turn up in a satisfied smile, “Got it.”
I twist around. A twinge in my abdomen makes me pause. Unzipping my flight suit, I give myself a quick once-over, using the reflection in the stainless-steel countertop to try to catch the state of my back.
Bruises as far as the eye can see. I look like I was in a paintball fight, and my team lost. Blacks, blues and purples mar my skin. An eerie map of injuries spreading around to my tummy and up to my chest. No blood - that I can see.
I stretch, my muscles protest, but everything appears to be in working order. Zipping up my flight suit again, I hide any injuries. I don’t want Matthias to worry. I don’t want anyone to worry, but especially him.
My eyes return to the doorway – the damn sealed hatch– searching for him through the glass.
MATTHIAS
CHAPTER NINE
I try to sift through the data dump I managed to dig out of the computer, as I drift up and down the corridor leading to Harmony. The movement helps me think clearly.
My eyes skim through the text. Automated security protocols. Manual Overrides. Volumetric estimations. Stock inventories. Past experiment logs.None of this is remotely useful to helping Alex.
