Tred could not tell if Jophiel was all right. The Craton was too blind outside from the gamma ray burst for him to see her.

Tred, I don't know what you're still doing there. Not much else can be done from there and who knows how safe it's going to be in ten minutes? You're already getting a lot of rads.

The message from one of the chief engineers made Tred nervous.

Right now he was in this secure room, he could access the other reactors if he needed to. Granted, there wasn't much reason they'd need that; the other reactors were all under control.

He'd done incredible work, possibly saved the ship and tens of thousands of lives.

You need to get out of there. Can you go back the way you came?

No, another answered. That hall has been closed off by Response bc of leaked coolant. That stuff'll melt him.

There were, for security reasons, limited ways for a person to get in or out of each reactor area.

And it seemed that all were ruled out, save one.

"The magnetosphere is stable now, right?" he asked.

For now, another answered. We can't move the damn ship, if another gamma burst comes outta that temple it might fry us completely.

Others began to argue that point, saying how or why that would not happen or why the ship would be all right if it did. Calculations began to fly, but Tred had the real information he needed:

Outside the ship was reasonably safe from radiation.

"Gonna spacewalk it," he said. As if it was casual.

He got off there before they began to tell him why it was a terrible idea, because it was his only idea.

His uniform spacesuit only kept him breathing, it would not keep him warm or safe from stray rays.

But in a closet nearby were proper radiation hazard suits. Putting one on over his spacesuit, he felt like he'd just been shrinkwrapped, but he was probably as safe as could be in such a small package.

Shrugging on a zero-g truster pack, he opened the door to the reactor room. It was cooled off enough, both thermally and radioactively, that he could pass through. But he could feel the warmth of the room, and he started to sweat before he had even crossed it.

Maybe it was just from nervousness.

The room was shredded from the hurling parts of the turbine, and he could not make himself look at where that unnamed Engineer had been killed helping him. He did not know if that was disrespectful or just cowardly.

The other door was partially jammed, but with the emergency lever he was able to force it open.

The room and hall beyond were just as shredded as before, and he swallowed nervously. He was not just going to cross it this time, he was going out through the wound channel it had caused.

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Shuffling to the edge, he looked down. The canyon rent in the ship was almost three hundred meters deep, but the entry hole was smaller than he expected.

Oh, the emergency repair drones are patching it, he realized. Best way to go about fixing something like this was to re-seal the outside before you tried to fix the inside. Platelet drones did just that without any command. Stories abounded in his circles to find a dead ship with no crew alive, but still find platelet drones cannibalizing the interior to restore the outer hull.

He took a step out into the void, turning off his magnetic boots and floating. He started to drift out, towards a particularly jagged piece of metal, and hastily activated the thruster pack to send him down and out.

Relatively he thought. No up or down in space. He hated that part in particular.

He kept drifting, burning up precious thrust mass to correct his course. He was no good at this spacewalking! Though, a part of his mind knew, if he hadn't been made to take space walks regularly, he probably wouldn't even have made it this far. Damn it.

His velocity kept increasing with each thrust. He was approaching the hole quickly, and he could see now that the drones had covered almost two thirds of the gap.

It was too late for him to come to a complete stop, he was going to reach the outer hull at 17 meters per second whether he liked it or not.

He could see them now, tiny crawling drones with six legs and small sensor faces. They saw him, craning their articulated necks up. Normally they'd try to catch someone about to 'fall' out of the ship, but he could tell that their algorithm had determined that he was trying to escape. They all waited and watched.

The gap he was shooting for looked so tiny and narrow, and he threw his arms over his face, expecting to crash into it and break every bone in his body.

But after a few seconds he realized he was still going.

Peering out through his arms, he saw that he was in space.

Debris was out here, and despite his horror and awe wanting to make him lose all sense, he fumbled to reduce his velocity.

He rotated to look at the Craton as he slowed, looking for the nearest docking port or hatch he could get in through. His system identified the nearest one, only a hundred meters from where he'd been. He looked for one further, he didn't want to go back in where the ship might still be damaged and dangerous!

A light grew on the edge of his helmet, just a hint of brightness that gained in strength until the edges of his helmet seemed to be glowing.

He began to turn, a hint of motion then catching his eye.

A piece of the Craton, a piece of his own ship, was going to intercept him. Barely bigger than he was, it would still turn him to paste in an instant. He had to move, and he reflexively hit the button for his thrusters, tumbling him back, and narrowly avoiding the piece.

His heart hammered in his chest, as he tried to understand what had just happened. What had been the source of the light? It wasn't the debris, and without it catching his attention he would never have seen it coming. He'd have just been dead.

Arresting his tumble, Tred slowly began to rotate, looking for anything strange.

And he saw an angel.

The being glowed with such brilliance that his visor dimmed to protect his eyes.

It was a composite being of multiple, overlapping spheres. There was an elongated sphere that could almost be imagined as a body, with smaller ones atop, and a set of even tinier ones spread out behind it that seemed almost like wings.

It was her, floating free and unconstrained.

"Jophiel," he whispered.

She was watching him, he knew. She could see in a huge range of spectra, and he must have been like a funny little beacon out here.

He could think of nothing else to say, but she moved slightly closer, his helmet turning almost opaque in response, yet still he could see the brilliant light of her.

She remained there for some long moments, and he knew that she knew it was him.

He reached up a hand, touching nothing, though it meant everything.

Jophiel held her position a moment longer, but then she pulled back, and the reality of his situation returned to Tred.

He had to get back to the ship, he knew. She was in trouble, and she was his first love.

Jophiel knew he had to go, he knew she would. He followed his system's directions, reaching an emergency hatch. As he opened it and ducked back inside the Craton, he did not look back.