Running through the ship we saw the little machines floating everywhere. Their bodies spun and their extremities flailed as they tried holding to anything. Many of them bumped into each other in some kind of Brownian motion; many were still holding onto each other in pairs, triplets, or even larger clusters.
The magnetic boots made the run clumsy, every time we pulled off our feet, we had to force our heels to separate off the floor for the electromagnets to turn off and disengage for an instant. Swinging your foot during a step while your other foot is stuck to the floor makes you lose balance easily. Taking the step is another kind of awkward, as landing your foot instantly snaps it onto the floor, leaving no room for the usual roll from heel to ball. It feels like walking through thick mud, if the mud also sucked in your feet.
The more we moved the quieter the sound around us got, the pressure of the air dropping bit by bit as it rushed out, pushing into the next wall of air. Gradually, the sound of my breathing, my heartbeat, and my footsteps grew louder within my helmet. Claustrophobia was kicking in. Like the walls were slowly receding to becoming the lining of my suit.
The ship wasn’t exactly being destroyed, but a lot of sounds were echoing from far away. Those same sounds started eerily fading as time went by and as we got closer to the side of the ship. The quieter it got the more I felt a gaping sensation with danger. Danger is usually chaotic and loud, not silent. It felt similar to radiation. Such a simple and inoffensive-looking rock could be so dangerous, but the moment I heard those clicks I knew I was in danger. Maybe the best analogy would be a stalking predator, hiding in the shadows, waiting to strike, and yet you know it’s there. I’m sure you’d use any sound and attribute it to danger. Yet, in this case, there were barely any sensorial cues to clue me to the danger, in fact, the danger was removed from any possible cues.
Time was running out for Padrict. There was nothing to tell us that there was such a case. And the world around us? Quiet and serene. The little robots floated and bounced off placidly. It was beautiful. And that was what scared me.
There was not much to do, and thanks to two wizards there was no way to use the radios. The air grew thinner and sound was basically non-existent outside the suits. By the time we reached what we thought was the side of the ship, we saw holes where we could spot little machines spinning and thrashing. It was like looking at animals or humans being vented to space. It was their death sentence. They’d run out of energy or resources. They’d degrade and cease to function, gradually going stiff.
It made me feel wrong. I was watching machines die. And there was nothing I could do to help. The thought of it made me gasp. I couldn’t believe I thought of them as alive. There was no reason for me to help or even feel bad. They were just machines that were turning off. I shouldn’t have to feel bad about it. I shouldn’t.
Right? I thought. They are just machines. They are not alive. I’m sure of it.
But I wasn’t so sure anymore. I cursed Martin for planting this idea on me, and promptly apologized; it wasn’t his fault, and it wasn’t on purpose. And I also simply love him too much to blame him for my stupidity.
I saw Martin and Tedet using their hands to talk, trying to explain to each other where our ship would be, and even witnessed Tedet stick his big head out of a hole. My heart almost leaped off my chest when he did, but had to shake off the dumb idea of Tedet falling off of it like it was a window on a tall building. Tedet shook his head at me when he saw me petrified in the middle of me trying to save him, my hands stretched out to grab him.
I knew what he was thinking, I mockingly thought so as well. There’s no gravity in space.
Unless a dragon was making it.
Finally, they both agreed on a direction and we ran along the side of the ship until we finally got to the open hatch Tedet opened. This was it. We were out of the ship and into outer space, our next obstacle.
You didn’t think we were out of danger already, were you? We’re still without atmosphere and from here on out we’d have no floor, but a stretch of open space for several meters. It was a one-way trip, straight to the ship, as fast as our little kettle thrusters can take us. One mistake could cost us Padrict’s life, or worse, all of ours.
The ship was just a spotless shape in the star-spangled blackness. Even if you knew where to look, it was hard to see. Thankfully, our navigation systems could see it.
Martin and Tedet shook their hands and heads around and began waving at us. Tedet pushed and pulled Padrict and me. He lightly slammed his helmet to mine and spoke. The vibrations from his visor transferred to mine, and like a string-and-cup telephone, his voice was transferred across air and visor, and into my ears.
“Get away,” he said, muffled. “Your magic interferes.”
I understood what he meant by it and realized that maybe the navigation systems weren’t so perfect. Of course, for them to work they need to know where the ship is and how to get there, and for that there are radio waves. One minus one is zero, and if you subtract the wizards from the equation, you get spotless radio waves. The solution was simple: move the wizards away from the non-wizards. The only problem is that only Tedet and Martin will know how to get there, and Padrict and I will need to be escorted.
Not only were we useless, we were a drag. This wasn’t a problem when we came here because the ark ships are massive, but our little transport ship was very small. You can’t miss the broad side of a barn from one meter away, even if you tried… but trying to hit a fly from the same distance is another story. The smallest angle change and you’ll be flying hundreds of meters off course.
How long do we have now? I calculated five minutes. But then that means we don’t have enough time.
If we were flying individually, we’d be able to get there by the skin of our teeth. But now? It’s impossible. Even combining our thrusts in two groups, it won’t be serving us enough. We’d have to be careful not to veer off course, which means that the ones that have the trajectory will have to conserve thrust to correct course.
It was such a stupid way to go. I couldn’t believe Padrict would die due to something like forgetting to take his helmet. He survived so much just to asphyxiate in his own breathing waste. It won’t even be pretty. High concentrations of carbon dioxide in the blood trigger our breathing reflexes. He’ll start gulping air halfway, thinking he’s drowning. I turned to see Padrict and noticed he was oblivious to this.
I gasped; my anxiety rose. I thought I’d start hyperventilating but stopped myself before I consumed all the oxygen that was left in me. There was something that needed to be done.
Tedet and Martin walked up to us and grabbed us. Tedet held on to Padrict while Martin held on to me. I pushed back Martin to run at Tedet. I knew that they were thinking the same thing as I did. We were dividing ourselves into pairs and journeying through the void towards our little ship. But there was something I needed to address before we could sail away.
I pushed my helmet up to Tedet’s and spoke: “You’ll need to share your air with Padrict.”
Tedet shook his head. “No.”
“You have to. He’ll die!”
“If he dies, he dies.”
“Then let me take hi—”
“Absolutely not!” he screamed and pushed me off.
Tedet swung his hand in a circle above his head. Wrap it up, he signaled.
Tedet and Martin grabbed us, and I felt like I was about to lose Padrict. I saw Tedet seal Padrict’s fate. He was going to die, and Tedet was just going to let it happen. He wasn’t going to put his life at risk anymore for him. I knew he thought that if Padrict’s fate was to die, then he would, and he would not put anyone else’s life at risk for a dead man. Not his, not mine, and neither my life partner.
I turned to look at the love of my life square in his eye, no soul gaze triggered as we had already seen our souls bare. But I pushed my helmet up to his, and gave the man I love an order I knew he’d regret but that I knew he would not refuse.
“Stay close to them,” I explain. “Padrict will die. Tedet won’t share air with him. And I don’t want you to share yours. Keep them close to us.”
Martin shook his head but said nothing.
“Do this for me, Martin,” I begged. “I have you if anything happens. But Padrict has no one.”
Martin’s face twisted in so many emotions at the same time, that I could not discern one from another. I just induced what he was feeling. He simply nodded and turned to see the void outside, avoiding making eye contact.
I felt ashamed. I abused his kindness and his love of me for something egoistic. Once again, I was hurting someone I loved for self-satisfaction. For what I believe was good. And it was someone innocent, a mortal. The love of my life, even. I felt disgusted.
But this is the right thing to do, I excused myself.
“Thank you,” I said. “And sorry.”
He pulled away to turn to the ship, and I couldn’t manage to work my final words “I love you,” before it was too late to speak through the visors. I still spoke them within my helmet and I was resolute to never involve my Martin in my wizard business ever again. No matter who said, asked, or pleaded. Martin should have never been involved in this. And I’m embarrassed to have done this to him when I thought I would never.
So, we flew. Drifting through space, slowly. Too slow for my liking. Much slower than I predicted. Tedet and Martin were being cautious, but their caution was going to cost Padrict his life. I realized then that Martin knew what this entailed when I asked him. This wasn’t going to be just a simple matter of sharing some air. We’d end up sharing more than “a little” by the end of the trip.
Sweet Mary, I thought. Why is fate always dealing us horrible hands?
I grabbed Martin’s arms while he held me. He shook me in response and I only thought he knew that I had already figured out what both of them concluded when I asked them. Tedet’s refusal was much more understandable now. Sharing air could risk everything.
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“But what am I supposed to do?!” I screamed. “Damn it!”
Martin held me tighter in his arms while I shook in anger. And after a moment I had to calm down, sweat and tears would be a problem inside the helmet and in microgravity. I had to be rational for a second and calmed down, much to my chagrin.
The minutes passed by and I saw our companion pair begin ruffling. I knew what was happening. Padrict began pulling and tapping Tedet harder to call his attention. After a few attempts, when he seemed to have given up, he pushed against him and almost punched through his visor. Tedet almost pushed him off in his anger, I could tell, even from this far away, no sound, and a reflecting visor over his, most likely, bright blue face.
I held for a few moments before I couldn’t take it anymore. I pulled on Martin and signaled him. Through his visor, I could barely see him shake his head, but he then waved his hand. I hit him, closed fist against his chest, several times. It took some effort to stop me and finally give it up. Martin pushed us into the other pair and I grabbed Padrict. He reacted violently and so did Tedet, to which Martin tried to stop.
I managed to calm Padrict by using my open palms, and asking him to stop. When he did, I grabbed the line from my suit and connected it to his. The emergency line fed him oxygen, my inner speakers beeped, and my arm screen showed the oxygen drop five times as fast. Padrict held to my hand and I pushed him off after a few seconds.
After realizing just how much I had shared and how much more we had left to go, I could not help but shudder. If I stopped sharing my oxygen supply, I could still make it. Padrict, however, would not be making it past another minute. If all three could share the same amount we’d be able to make it.
There was one more issue: Tedet. No, it wasn’t that Tedet didn’t want to share. Well, no, it wasn’t exactly another issue either. In reality, it had to do with Tedet not wanting to share, but not because he just didn’t want to, but because he wouldn’t be able to make it. Radera consume oxygen faster than humans. Even if Tedet were to hold his breath, he’d consume that amount faster in the next moments.
I asked Martin to share his. Placing our visors together, I managed to convey a few words: “Maybe he’ll make it if we share a bit more.”
Tedet protested more with signs, but we dismissed him. More minutes passed until Martin had to give out his share of oxygen. The suits have a passive regenerative CTO converter, or carbon-to-oxygen converter — we nicknamed it the Ceto, and rhymed with zero — which would slowly transform carbon dioxide into diatomic oxygen. But this process is slow, and it helps only to extend our time in a vacuum. Ceto isn’t meant to be used as a replacement for oxygen tanks or reservoirs. Oxygen is usually dissolved into the suit’s insulating material which acts as a reservoir — once carbon dioxide pressure increases, it is absorbed by the insulating material, which is more compatible with it than oxygen, thus exchanging the two in the air. Even if we shared a bit more of our oxygen, we could still make it all the way to the ship. However, Ceto wouldn’t be enough for Padrict.
In the last quarter of the way, I saw the small percentage that was left of my oxygen and I knew Martin’s would be just as low. But Padrit would be lower. The small transport ship was now visible, almost as big as our thumb at arm’s length, and soon it would grow faster than the rest of the trip. I began to panic, we were so close and so was Padrict to his death. I signaled to Martin to get us closer to our other pair.
I grabbed Tedet by the cuff of the suit and spoke through our helmets.
“Faster!” I screamed to make it clear. “Fast. Fast. Fast.” I pushed him back and used my hands to signal him, quickly striking the air in the direction of our ship, like cutting the air — or vacuum — with my hand as a knife.
“Not yet,” he spoke, muffled, when we touched visors again. “Too soon!”
I pushed myself back and stared intently, defiantly, at my best friend, and shrewdly devised a plan to make him pick up the pace. I knew he would not care to do anything I asked him if it were to put my life in danger, so I forced him to make that decision. If he would not do it for my sake, then he’d do it for my sake.
I pulled myself to Padrict and connected myself to him. He wasn’t yet aware that we were running out of oxygen, he might still think we had enough, but we didn’t. Before anyone could realize what I had done, I had cut my time by a minute. Tedet pulled me off and shook me, screaming silently within his suit, yet I could hear some vibration from somewhere — across our arms and suit, soundwaves must have transferred the bare minimum of vibrations.
Tedet clawed and slashed at the air. He grabbed Martin and everyone began spinning slightly in the barycenter of our masses, if let go, we’d fly away from each other. I held to Tedet and Martin, Martin held to me, and Padrict held to Tedet while Tedet talked to Martin across helmets. Then, a second later we stopped our spin and picked up the pace. Faster, and faster, we accelerated. Soon, we’d start moving too fast.
The ship grew closer and closer, but still too far. Bigger than a thumb now, but not big enough. How long? How long is it going to take?
Martin and Tedet signaled each other, then both took us closer.
“Help me,” he begged. “We need to boost us faster.”
I nodded within my helmet and saw him notice. But when Tedet signaled us to go, we left him behind. They weren’t boosting as fast as we did. They weren’t boosting. Padrict no longer had propellent for EV mobility.
“No!” I screamed, but it was too late. I could not stop, I could not decelerate, it would take us too long. It would not help to stop. I could no longer turn myself far enough to see, a bit more and we’d end up boosting at an angle.
We kept going. Martin and I were moving so fast relative to the ship that when its image became almost the size of my fist, we turned around for a decelerating maneuver. Almost like were being pushed against a wall, the deacceleration took a lot of effort and faith. Martin knew how close we were, but I wasn’t sure, there was no way for Martin to share his information through radio waves.
I tried looking for Tedet but I saw nothing for a while. The imaginary wall behind me pushed hard against us with the same force I was pushing against it. Newton was holding us by the neck, with our fate in its thick fingers. Then, my head beeped, and I saw my oxygen levels falling dangerously. I was about to hit the limit of what was considered safe, and into the range where I’d start feeling the effects of hypoxia. Holding my breath would serve no purpose, the ship was still a long way away and I would have to breathe several times until we get close.
Without anything else to replace the carbon dioxide in my suit, even if it wasn’t the oxygen, I would start to feel its effect when it dissolves back into my blood, transforms into carboxylic acid, and triggers my breathing reflex; only for every gulp to reduce oxygen further and pushing me deeper into an involuntary, physiological panic. If I could replace carbon dioxide with anything else, like nitrogen, I would not realize I was asphyxiating. The effects of hypoxia would pile up and grow in intensity. I would begin to lose the ability to think right, my vision would spin, and I’d become lethargic. My brain would slowly deteriorate and die, drowning in ever more nitrogen in my blood, until it was lights out. I would not feel a thing and wouldn’t even realize I was choking on air after a few moments of the headache.
Dying in desperation or dying while slowly losing myself. I do not know which is scarier. I was afraid of feeling like I was drowning, I knew it would be a harrowing experience, but at least I would be able to communicate and talk to Martin.
The metaphorical needle crossed its threshold and I was signaled that I was now below the same limit. I thought I had felt it, like it would act on me instantly. I thought I felt my vision go blurry and my head began to ache. But it was only psychosomatic. It couldn’t be happening so quickly. Another beep called my attention that the carbon dioxide levels were increasing to dangerous levels. A sinking, aching feeling in my stomach made all my imaginary symptoms exacerbate.
I’m going to drown, I thought. I gonna drown in here, with no way out.
Martin was oblivious to my situation. That sensation of separation made me feel like I was truly alone, isolated. I looked at the deep dark beyond me and saw a white cloud bloom. I wasn’t sure what I was looking at, I could only think I was imagining it due to hypoxia. If I was now hallucinating, then I was close to drowning. I saw my arm and I was about to cross to the danger zone. In my desperation and fear, I took a big gulp of air and when I did, I felt it: the urging need to breathe. I felt it like I felt my eyelids force themselves to blink when I kept my eyes open for just a little too long. I had breathed in a little too much carbon dioxide, and the lack of gaseous exchange in my blood made my body react to it extremely quickly. I could not hold it in for too long, I was already feeling the spasms coming any minute.
I held it in. I held it in a little longer. My throat felt like it would gape, trying to suck on as much air as possible, but I held it. I kept holding it with more effort until the spasms came and with them, my strength waned. Then, like a dam bursting into pieces, I let out a gasp and heard my throat rasp as the air rushed in a desperate gulp. The instant I breathed in I felt the pang again. I gasped and gulped. My chest felt like it was out of air. I gasped and exhaled, gasped and exhaled, in quick succession. I could not do it anymore; I could not breathe.
I clawed at the void before me and I knew, I felt it. I was drowning, in water. The helmet, it was drowning me. There was air outside my helmet and if only I could remove it, I would be able to breathe. That’s right. I was correct. My head hurt so much and I could not feel my fingers, but if I could just breathe once again this desperation would simply go away. With shallower and shallower breaths, I reached to my face trying to pull the window off. The visor, I corrected myself. Take it off, like how you put it on.
My fingers found the latches at the scruff of my suit and when I pulled on the latches, I felt a hand stop me. I pushed it off and tried pushing myself off the floor I was lying on. For some reason I could not stand, I couldn’t comprehend how there was no floor when I felt it pushing against me. I latched off my helmet, and when I pulled it off the air popped, the helmet slipped from my fingers and the sound was gone after a loud rush. My lungs were suddenly crushed. I was breathing nothing. I gulped like a fish at the emptiness.
Why? I thought. Why could I not breathe anymore?
My helmet found its way back to my suit but nothing was happening. My eyes burned and my skin tingled. My ears buzzed so deeply and loud it felt deafening. Then suddenly, I hear a hoo coming from afar. And in seconds I was breathing again. I felt my body gasp and breathe right. I was again back in my senses and I knew I was thinking straight again.
I realized what had happened, but it was already too late. I felt arms wrapping around my body, and I knew Martin was bracing me for something. I turned to see empty space around me but all I could see was that bloom far away. Then a loud bang and my body rebounded painfully against something. It took the air out of my chest and barely managed to gasp in air again. The collision made my body spin the suit automatically controlled its vectoring controls. When I finally saw the ship, Martin was fighting to hold on to something on it. I booted close and I saw him crawl towards the hatch. He punched something and pulled a lever, the manual opening mechanism forced the machinery to snap and open a gap. The hydraulics were disconnected, and so the hatch needed to be opened by force.
I manage to get to Martin a second later and help him lift the hatch. In reality, we were separating the two halves, but it felt like we were lifting one. The hatch opened slightly, and I flew towards the inside latch to force the hydraulics to engage and close the hatch.
When I did, Martin floated towards one end and looked for something in his suit. The space where the cable that connected us was missing, and in its place was a hole. I had to engage the gas vents and give us atmosphere. Quickly.
The air rushed in slowly and saw Martin stop, with a finger plugging the hole. His chest convulsed and I knew he lost a lot of air. I could only wait until the normal pressure was back. Seconds later, Martin pulled off his helmet, even when the procedure wasn’t finished, and he gulped the air. He breathed in and basked as his lungs pulled more and more air. He was forcing himself to breathe but he was doing better, at least he didn’t seem to be desperately breathing. I felt like I had to do the same.
I pulled off my helmet and met his gaze while we both struggled to inhale. There was something that pulled me towards those eyes, and it wasn’t the soul gaze. For an instant, before, I thought I would lose him, I was so desperate. The rush of multiple emotions had me exhausted and I could only cope by concentrating on one. I was so madly in love with this man and I could not resist the urge to eat his lips with mine.
I needed this. I needed to hold him close and against my body. I wanted to take off my suit and feel his skin. I needed him, I wanted him. Martin was with me alive. I knew he felt the same when he pulled off his gloves and grabbed me by the neck and head to hold me against his lips.
“I love you so much, Eddy,” he said and I tasted the love smeared in each and every intonation of the words. They tasted of Martin, sweet as honey with a bitter aftertaste.
I knew how he felt at that moment when I saw his tears.
“I thought I lost you. I barely managed to grab your helmet. Why did you pull it off?” He gasped and rushed through every word like his life had a time limit.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I’m sorry.”
The seconds passed as we floated in the middle of words of comfort, love, and apology.