THROUGH THE PORTHOLE, I watch as a brilliant flash of white light blossoms on the surface of Ceres—the attack drones annihilating the harvester.
I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
I untether from the bridge table and propel myself to the window. The surface of Ceres is a bombed-out expanse of craters. Where the black dome of the harvester’s central node used to be, there is the largest crater of all.
I glance back and see that Emma’s mouth is moving, but I can’t hear what she’s saying. The ship’s computer is off-line. So are internal comms.
I float close to her, take a hard line from my suit, and connect it to hers. “Did we—”
“We got him, Emma.”
“What about the computer?”
“I don’t know. Art was trying to infiltrate it. Probably to use the comms.”
“To call off the attack drones?” “Conceivably.”
“What else would it be?”
I have another theory about what Art was doing, but I don’t want to tell her. I’ve been down this road: keeping secrets from her. I’m not going down it again. I make the decision then to always tell her the truth.
“It was either to disable the attack drones or to broadcast out of system, to the grid. To call for help. Reinforcements.”
Emma’s eyes drop away from mine. “Can we reboot the system core?”
“We can, but we shouldn’t.”
“We have to.”
“It’s too risky. If Art’s code infiltrated Leo, rebooting it could give him access to what’s left of our communications abilities.”
“Then we’re stranded.”
“Not quite.” I point toward the porthole, at the expanse of floating debris, the wreckage of our nine ships and everything the harvester threw at us. “Somewhere out there, there’s a working escape pod from one of the ships. We’re going to find it, and we’re going to get out of here. I promise.”
The words come out with more confidence than I feel. I don’t want her to worry. I glance down at the control panel on my left arm. My suit has ten hours and thirty-two minutes of oxygen left. That’s how long we have to find a functioning escape pod. The clock is ticking.
IT TAKES me thirty minutes to disassemble the bridge enough to isolate the computer hardware that houses Leo’s operating system and all the telemetry and data from the mission. It’s slow going with the suit and gloves, but it’s imperative that I bring the computer core and black box home. We have to analyze it to know if the harvester broadcast a message. We need to know if what it told us is true—if another harvester will soon come for us.
With the computer core strapped to my suit, we systematically search the wreckage. On Sparta Three, we find a working escape pod. My suit status reads less than two hours of oxygen left. Both Emma and I plug in to the escape pod systems and refill our oxygen reservoirs. I disconnect my helmet and set it aside.
She catches me by surprise. She pushes off from the far wall and wraps her arms around me. Her eyes well with tears.
We hold each other tight as I stare out the small round window at the debris field and the wreckage of the Battle of Ceres.
I’ve never felt so thankful in all my life.
There’s one thing I need to tell her, something I’ve wanted to say since Art revealed my secrets. And hers.
“Hey,” I whisper.
She breaks the hug and stares at me.
“Thanks for giving me my family back. For everything you did.”
“You would have done the same for me.”
I would have. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.