Tanisira tries her best to smooth that frown out, maybe because she thinks it’s freaking me out, but it doesn’t work. It’s almost enough to make me laugh. I must look terrible.
“I can smell my shampoo—well, it’s really your shampoo because I’ve been using your shower. Pomegranates. I can smell moisturiser, yours again. I can smell something sharp, like bleach, maybe.”
I pause to listen, straining to parse what’s being pumped in through the speakers in my helmet. “I hear the whirring of fans. I hear humming.”
I try to swallow, and it’s so hard to do. My mouth is a desert. Tanisira had told me, before helping me into it, that the EVA suit would be pumping through pure oxygen. It’s meant to acclimate my lungs and minimise something or other in my blood, something that could gopopbecause of the pressure discrepancy in space. The funny thing is that after telling me this, she then told me not to worry about it, not to panic if breathing it in felt noticeably different. For my sanity, I listen. It sure tastes different.
“I can taste metal.”
Tanisira hasn’t looked away from me once, and she runs her hands up to my shoulders and steps closer. “Feeling better?”
Despite the madness of this situation, I do. I nod, taking note of the smoother cadence of my breathing. “If I find out that itwas you who called the ISA, I’m going to murder you in your sleep.”
“You have never seen me sleep,” she deadpans.
Another joke. I appreciate what she’s trying to do. I shake my arms out and attempt to pull my shoulders down from where they’ve migrated around my ears. The lack of gravity hasn’t helped.
“Tell me the plan again,” I plead.
“When the cruiser docks, Kit will start depressurising the airlock. If the officers plan to search the ship, they’ll eventually figure out that there’s one more person on board they haven’t spoken to. We’ll tell them you’re conducting a spacewalk, and they’ll more than likely order us to cancel it and get you back inside. Cue malfunction.”
Tanisira says this so calmly and confidently that I relax a little. I like my feet on solid ground with real gravity and no chance of being ripped apart. All respect to floaters, but that’s not my idea of a good time. This whole thing hinges on the officers not getting to me. I try not to think about the fact that if the malfunction doesn’t work, I’ll have to go out there. I think people train for years to do spacewalks. I was expecting more time to come to terms with the idea. More than a goddamn hour, that’s for sure.
Kit’s voice interrupts us. “Captain, the cruiser has sent comms ordering us to decelerate further and the officers will begin docking once we have complied. I’ll start the process now.”
Tanisira spares me a steadying look, though her jaw clenches, before she tugs on the tether at my waist, which floats across the airlock like a tail. She starts to back towards the inner hatch, keeping eye contact with me. I try not to think about why I’m tethered at all if the plan is to never open that external hatch. In fact, I try not to thinkfull stop.
“Remember,” Tanisira says with one foot outside the interior airlock. “I’ll keep my mic on the whole time so you can hear what’s happening, and you can always check in with Kit.”
I nod. I don’t tell her that my hands are so sweaty, I’m surprised the droplets haven’t wriggled out of the suit and into the air. I don’t tell her that I can feel my pulse in my eyeballs. I don’t tell her that my knees are wobbling like crazy. I just nod. And then she’s gone, the hatch shut behind her, the sound muffled through my helmet and echoing through the speaker.
I’m alone in the airlock. There’s a bench along the far wall, but I’m too nervous to sit. I start to pace, even though it feels more like wading through the ocean.
“Okay,” I say out loud. “Focus. You’ve faced worse situations than this. Dominik literally sued you for custody, and you got through that. You can stand in an airlock for an hour.”
It’s not the best speech I’ve ever given myself. Forcing my eyes closed, I home in on the sounds filtering in from Tanisira’s mic. Her footsteps are so muted I can tell she’s changed into her regular boots. For a few minutes, I concentrate on counting them, letting the rhythm lull me into calmness. By the time she comes to a stop, I can no longer taste my heartbeat.
Time slips from me like treacle, and it seems like forever before I hear her speak.
“Can I help you?” Tanisira asks politely.
A man’s voice responds. “Are you Captain Sekmith?”
“Yes.”
The sound of rustling is followed by a screen being unlocked. “We’re acting on behalf of the British Government, and we have a warrant to search the ship. We appreciate your cooperation.”
“Apologies for holding up your journey.” It’s another, softer and younger, voice.
A warrant? This isn’t a coincidence, and I’m once again frantically trying to figure out who sicced them on me. I wantto believe it wasn’t the captain, but whoelse? I got the sense during dinner that the rest of the crew seemed to think I was just accompanying Vee to Suryavana. They didn’t know there was anything to report. I think.
Tanisira’s reply is smooth and unbothered. I’m impressed, despite myself, but she’s definitely hiding something.
The first officer starts to read out the warrant, beginning to end. I’m so anxious that I actually pay attention to every single word, whether I understand it or not. Tanisira doesn’t seem ruffled at all the legalese, but it takes me a moment to parse out, “—information that suggests you have a trespasser on board—”
My heart stops. This isn’t a call they’d make unless someone like Dominik requested it, with all his influence and wealth. The Deep Transit Inspection teams are under the purview of the ISA and, likeallgovernment agencies, they’re severely underfunded. The sheer cost of this search means they’re bound to take it seriously.
Suddenly, this idea seems unbearably stupid. My palms are damp.
