Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
ELAINA
The station’s warning klaxon faded as Elaina crawled through the service shaft, following flickering emergency lights. A failing airlock shouldn’t be surprising—this was the third today. But something about this one felt different.
Sweat dripped down her neck as she lowered herself from the open panel onto the floor below. Her hands were already trembling from muscle fatigue after the previous two repairs. She pressed the pressure gauge to the read slot at the side of the massive airlock door, its internals splayed open before her. With her other hand, she stretched the calibrator into the mechanism, the door’s corroded inner edges snagging her sleeve as she reached deeper.
The readouts matched the pattern from the other doors—that same fingerprint she was starting to recognize all too well. Only this time it had manifested with pressure instead of power fluctuations, like the virus was learning, adapting.
“Come on,” she muttered, arms shaking as she tried to hold the gauge steady while reaching for the realignment seal with the calibrator. She needed a third hand—or significantly more upper body strength—to manage this alone.
Heavy boots echoed behind her. “Everything all right? ”
She didn’t look back at Cyan, no time to question why he was even there. “This seal’s stuck. I need to realign it while holding pressure constant, but I can’t…” She grunted as her grip slipped again. “Can’t get enough leverage.”
“What do you need?”
“Just… hold this.” She gestured with her elbow toward the pressure gauge. “Keep it at exactly this angle while I work the calibrator.”
Cyan took over the gauge, and Elaina breathed a sigh of relief as her straining shoulder got a break. She gave herself a moment to shake out her newly free hand before reaching into the hatch to tweak the calibrator against the internal mechanism.
But her tired hands got clumsy. She swore under her breath as her grip slipped and the readout on the gauge plummeted. The warning klaxon screamed back to life as oxygen began venting rapidly from the other side.
Then came the pounding—desperate, frantic hits against metal. Elaina and Cyan exchanged horrified glances.
“There’s someone in there.”
“Shit.” The blood drained from Elaina's face as she scrambled to get the calibrator back in position. Her fingers trembled against the mechanism, each failed attempt punctuated by another terrified bang from inside.
“Steady,” Cyan told her. “You’ve got this.”
But she didn’t. Her arms were leaden from the strain of climbing, then stretching into the hatch. She finally locked onto the seal, but it wouldn’t budge. The gauge’s warning light pulsed an angry red as pressure continued to drop.
“I think it’s stuck,” she gritted through her teeth. The pounding grew more erratic, desperate. How much air was left in there ?
“Elaina.” Her eyes snapped to his, his gaze so calm despite everything. “Breathe. I said you’ve got this.”
She swallowed, nodding, and took a deep, shaky breath.
“Again.”
She closed her eyes, tuning out the banging as she got herself steady. “Okay.”
Slowly her grip stabilized and she was able to apply enough pressure to twist the calibrator in its seal. She kept her eyes closed. “Pressure?”
“Creeping up. It’s working.”
She nodded and continued to twist gradually, keeping the motion stable. “Tell me when it moves up to one-oh-one kilopascals.”
“I will.”
A few more seconds of painstaking adjustment and Cyan gave her the sign. “All right, it’s there. You’re good.”
Elaina released a shaky sigh and extracted the calibrator from the hatch. Her arm had been marked with bloody scratches where it had snagged on various components.
“It’s okay,” she said preemptively when Cyan’s gaze fell on the marks. “We’ve gotta keep going, open the door while the pressure holds.”
That was easier said than done, with the airlock mechanism completely disengaged. It would have to be pulled open manually.
“Let’s hope the backup gets here soon enough,” Elaina shook her head.
“I’ll do it.”
“Cyan, these doors need, like, three people.”
But he was already grabbing the heavy latch and forcing it down, metal creaking under the force. Once dislodged, he yanked the lock latch toward him once, twice, forcing it into unlocked position.
“Step back. ”
Elaina did as he said, giving him space as he grabbed the holdbar with both hands and leaned back with it, starting to pull.
His back heaved, tendons of the neck straining under the force as he hauled the slab. Elaina fought the urge to jump in and help, sensing she would only distract him. And slowly, slowly, the mass of the airlock door budged, and a small arm reached through the opening.
She scurried toward it, taking the girl’s hand.
“You’re okay,” Elaina said. “We’ll get you out.”
Then the door screeched another few inches, just enough for the girl to slip out.
“Asana!” a shaken voice called behind them, and the girl ran past Elaina into the woman’s arms.
Cyan was already pushing, sealing the airlock shut once more before ox began to leak. Backup had arrived, two men pounding down the hall to help seal the thing shut.
When it was done, Cyan bent over with his arms on his knees, catching his breath.
“Thank you,” the woman said, still clutching the girl. “We didn’t realize this section was locked down for repairs…”
Elaina barely heard the explanation that followed. She glanced at Cyan, but he was focused on checking the seal one final time.
“Thank you,” she came up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m good. You?”
“Yeah, but I should get back,” she said. “Two more to check.”
Cyan straightened. “I’ll help.”
Elaina started to refuse, tell him she could handle it. But the words died in her throat—clearly she could use the help .
“Thank you.” She grabbed her toolkit, wincing at her scratched arm. “That’d be great.”
As they headed toward the next failing lock, Elaina’s dataslate pinged with another alert. She pulled it out, frowning at the readout. The virus’s signature was changing again.
She’d have to figure that out later. Right now she had repairs to make, and for once she wasn’t making them alone.