I wondered what Mom would think when she got the news about what happened. Not exactly what she planned for me. Maybe she’d be proud.
My arm was cramping, so I shifted my body, trying to get to a different angle. The air coming through the mask felt stuffy. I didn’t have a way out, and for some reason, I was kind of okay with it. Everyone else had escaped. Charles was alive. It was okay.
It was okay.
I didn’t notice at first when my air canister started to run out. My lungs were hurting, but that could just have been nerves. I sucked deep breaths at the mask but couldn’t seem to catch my breath. My vision started going splotchy, black with flares around the edges, like I was about to faint. It was sort of comforting—I’d pass out before I died and wouldn’t feel a thing. When I passed out, I’d let go of the switch, and the shuttle would tumble out of control. At least I wouldn’t feel anything at that point.
I hadn’t wanted to pick a death, so I waited for the air to go. Now, it looked like I was going to get all three—vacuum, asphyxiation, g-forces—at once.
I listened to the alarm, beeping in time with my heart, until all I could hear was my heart, then nothing.
25
POLLY’S EYES ONLY
I don’t even know where to start. Well. Let me start at the end: Why do you have to be so stupid? Scratch that. You’re not stupid. So why do you have to be so brave? You wouldn’t even realize it. You wouldn’t call it bravery. You’d say something noble about how you just did what needed doing, you were just the one stuck holding the switch, and you’re not really brave or a hero or anything, all the standard clichés, but that would be okay because you’d mean it. You’d get nervous that everyone was making a fuss.
People keep coming up to me and patting me on the back and telling me how proud I must be of you. And I am, I suppose, if I had to admit it. But I’m also very angry. One of these days I’ll figure out how we could have saved everyone without leaving you behind. Then I’ll be right and you’ll be wrong, and you’ll never have to do anything that brave ever again.
So next time just step back and let me fix things, all right?
Charles
I folded the note and held onto it. I had to think about it for a while. My brain seemed to be running at half speed, and the doctor said that was because they were keeping me sedated until some of the bruising healed. I’d apparently been tossed around the cabin of the shuttle pretty hard before the rescue ship got it stabilized. I didn’t have brain damage from anoxia. At least, they didn’t think I did. I couldn’t really tell. I felt tired.
I’d woken up and hadn’t known where I was. The room was pale, filled with light, and something beeped, just like the alarm on the shuttle. Then people came in, and I realized I was in a bed, and I wasn’t moving—at least relative to the room, I wasn’t moving. I didn’t feel heavy or light. I didn’t feel much of anything. One of the people—a guy in a white coat, a doctor—asked if I could hear him. I nodded and tried to talk, but my voice scratched, and there was a tube in my nose. The doctor seemed relieved.
Then I’d felt the square of paper under my hand. Polly’s Eyes Only. I kept it hidden so people wouldn’t try to take it away. Charles had been here, sitting by my bed, watching over me. I tried to look for him, to see if he was still here, but moving hurt and the guy put a hand on my shoulder, keeping me in place. Some medical folks did some test
s and poked and prodded, asked some questions, and I asked them what had happened in a scratchy, dry voice that didn’t sound like me at all. Rescued, they’d said, and taken to the hospital at Collins City. I’d been rescued at the very last moment, just as my air was going out and the g’s were about to pound me to jelly. I’m a very lucky girl, they assured me.
I tried to ask them where Charles was, but my voice faded. They gave me a cup of water, explained about the sedation, and left me alone. I read the note. Charles had been here. I assumed that meant he and everyone else were okay, that they got rescued, too.
It seemed very much like a dream, so I went back to sleep and expected everything to be different again when I woke up. Maybe I’d be able to feel the gravity enough to figure out where I was.
* * *
When I did wake up, I felt clearer. The room wasn’t as bright, and I could see the walls, the medical equipment, the blanket over my skinny body a lot better. And Charles was sitting by the bed. Neither of us said anything for what seemed a long time. He studied me like he was trying to figure out a problem.
“Hi,” I said, because that was all I could think of.
“They said you’d woken up. That I should be here for you. A familiar face.”
He didn’t look comfortable. He didn’t look in control. He must have hated this.
“Is everybody okay?” I asked.
“Mostly. Everyone got a little banged up. Ladhi had a concussion, but she’s all right. Very proud of the scar she’s acquired.”
“Ethan?”
“He wants to see you, but the doctors are keeping everyone else out for now. How do you feel?”
“Not too good,” I said. My head might have been less fuzzy, but even so I’d rather lie still than try to move.
“You almost died.”
I hadn’t really thought of it like that. I just did what I thought I had to, and now I was dealing with the consequences.