Harry’s oxygen was so low when he returned to Valhalla the first thing he did was yank off his helmet gasping for breath.

Nnedi met him at the pod, a grin on her face. “You made it back. Where’s your murder suspect?”

“He couldn’t make it.”

Nnedi nodded, consulting her slate. “The platform’s gone. Transponder’s still broadcasting, but not for much longer. It has another few thousand miles until crush depth. And then.”

Harry nodded. “What’s going on around here?” He watched technicians and engineers as they went about their tasks, but there was a lightness about them. They wore smiles on their faces and had a spring in their step.

Harry’s slate began to ding as it re-upped with the space station’s feed. News tickers flashed across every nearby screen: TALKS UNDERWAY.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“The bastards finally caved,” Nnedi told him.

Harry nodded as a tech helped him out of his suit, his eyes watching the nearest screen for the news. He knew it was happening, but he was glad to have some official confirmation. They were talking. Really talking. Maybe for the first time ever. Everyone aboard Valhalla belonged to a union, from the sex workers to the guys who drove metal homunculi around the skin of the station on little magnetic feet looking for hull damage, so it would take a long time. It also might all fall apart tomorrow. But for now it was something. The entire station had breathed a collective sigh of relief while he was gone. And he had been some small catalyst in that. For the first time in weeks he felt good. Useful.

His slate notified him of an incoming message. He answered. It was Sergeant Gates.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“It’s a long story,” said Harry. “I was just on my way there to make a full report.”

“Well haul your ass in here then.” The image winked out.

Harry walked toward the lift with a spring in his step, feeling literally a hundred pounds lighter. But the difference in gravity was only part of it. Off to his right, a thirty-foot holographic apparition of Honey appeared, selling some new fragrance. She blew a kiss, and he imagined she was delivering it to him. “Goodbye, Honey,” he whispered as he sauntered off.