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She pulled up pictures on her phone and showed them to us.
The photos told a story of utter destruction. The area was lit up with powerful floodlights the Russians had set up and the place was swarming with rescue personnel. Though there was nothing for them to do.
Virtually nothing was left. No debris, limited wreckage. Stratt swiped through photo after photo. Some were close-ups of the ground. Round, shiny beads dotted the area. “What’s up with the beads?” she said.
“Metal condensate,” Dimitri said. “It means metals were vaporized, then condensed like raindrops.”
“Jesus,” she said.
I sighed. “There’s only one thing in those labs that could create enough heat to vaporize metal: Astrophage.”
“I agree,” said Dimitri. “But Astrophage does not just ‘explode.’ How could this happen?”
Stratt looked at her wrinkled schedule pages. “According to this, DuBois wanted more experience with Astrophage-powered electrical generators. Shapiro was there to observe and assist.”
“That makes no sense,” I said. “Those generators use a tiny, tiny bit of Astrophage to make electricity. Nowhere near enough to blow up a building.”
She put her phone down. “We’ve lost our primary and secondary science specialists.”
“This is nightmare,” said Dimitri.
“Dr. Grace. I want a short list of possible replacements.”
I stared with my mouth agape. “Are you made of stone or something?! Our friends just died!”
“Yes, and everyone else will die, too, if we don’t make this mission happen. We have nine days to find a replacement science specialist.”
I well up. “DuBois…Shapiro…” I snuffled and wiped my eyes. “They’re dead. They’redead…oh God…”
Stratt slapped me. “Snap out of it!”
“Hey!”
“Cry later! Mission first! You still have that list of coma-resistant candidates from last year? Start looking through it. We need a new science specialist. And we need themnow!”
—
“Gathering sample now…” I say.
Rocky watches me from his tunnel in the lab ceiling. His device works just as it should. The clear xenonite box has a couple of valves and pumps that let me control the inside environment. The vacuum chamber is inside with its lid open. The box even has climate control, keeping the inside temperature a chilly minus 51 degrees Celsius.
Rocky admonished me for leaving the sample at (human) room temperature for so long. He had a lot to say on that subject, actually. We had to add “reckless,” “idiot,” “foolish,” and “irresponsible” to our shared vocabulary just so he could fully express his opinion on the matter.
There was another word he threw around a lot, but he declined to tell me what it meant.
Three days off the painkillers and I’m a lot smarter than I was. At least he understands that much—I wasn’t just some stupid human. I was a human withenhancedstupidity.
Rocky refused to give me the box I’m using until I slept three times without using the drugs. My arm hurts so bad right now, but he’s got a point.
Rocky healed a fair bit in that time too. I have no idea what’s going on inside his body. He looks the same as ever, but he’s moving around much better than before. Not full-speed, though. Neither am I. We’re the walking wounded, honestly.
By agreement, we’ve kept the gravity at one-half g.
I open and close the claws in the box a few times. “Look at me. I’m an Eridian now.”
“Yes. Very Eridian. Hurry and get sample.”
“You’re no fun.” I grab the cotton swab and bring it to a waiting glass slide. I rub it across the slide, leaving a noticeable smear, then return it to the vacuum chamber. I seal up the chamber, put the slide in a little clear xenonite container, and seal the box.
