Moving in the suit was about as difficult as he’d expected. The arms and legs were bulky and not really designed for quick movements. The hands had surprising mobility, but Malcolm still struggled for a minute while getting the safety line attached.
“Safety line connected,” he said to Tapestry, over the radio. “I’m ready for you to open the door.”
“Got it.”
He heard air whooshing past him and out into the vacuum as the airlock depressurized, and then nothing at all as the door leading out into empty, black space slid open. Well, it wasn’t entirely empty, Malcolm silently conceded.
Jupiter stood out against the abyss of stars like the angry god who it took its name from. Malcolm didn’t have to look at the planet to see it. They were nearing the end of the first half of the crew’s original journey, and Jupiter was larger than the moon, larger than the sun, larger than anything he’d seen in the night sky back on Earth.
He could see a couple of moons, one of them probably Europa, their destination, but they were like sparks in the light of a bonfire. It was the most majestic thing Malcolm had ever seen. It felt like Jupiter was challenging him, a massive hole just waiting to suck them in.
“Wind Runner?” said Tapestry, over the speaker in his helmet. “Are you okay? You’re just standing there.”
“I’m… taking in the scenery,” he said.
Terrifying. This is beyond terrifying.
Malcolm edged his way forward to the spaceship’s outer airlock door. The fact that he was weightless did not make pushing himself into the vast, empty void any easier. He could feel his heart racing in his chest and wondered what Tapestry must think, observing his vitals from back in the cockpit.
“The replacement solar panels are in the second outer storage locker,” said Tapestry. “There are handholds leading around the side of the ship to the left, so you don’t have to search. Malcolm, are you okay?”
No. Not even a little.
“Fine!” he said. “Just give me a second or two.”
The only way they would be able to make it back home to Earth was if the ship had enough power. And the only way it would get enough power was with working solar panels. It was not a matter of choice, and that, more than courage or changing his perspective on the situation, was what pushed Malcolm to leave the ship.
He grabbed the first handhold to the left of the airlock door and hung onto it for dear life. He double checked that the safety line was still attached properly, which it was. He tried not to look down at Jupiter below him, much like a climber with a fear of heights would avoid looking at the ground.
Slowly, Malcolm pulled himself along the path of handholds. His fear faded enough to be manageable as he realized that he could let go without immediately falling away from the ship. They were still moving through space, of course, but without anything affecting his movement separately from that of his vessel, it felt no different from being stationary.
Looking at the ship from an outside perspective instilled a different kind of humble fear into Malcolm. It was so much smaller from the outside than it looked from the inside. It was so much more vulnerable than he’d realized.
Worst of all was when Malcolm risked a glance away from Jupiter, in the direction they’d come from. Back toward Earth. He couldn’t see it, couldn’t even see a hint of it. The thought that he was far enough away to require a telescope to see humanity’s home planet made him feel like throwing up.
Which would be a terrible idea while wearing a helmet.
He made it to the storage lockers after a minute or two of careful climbing. They didn’t have locks on them that he could see, but each one did have a handle that needed to be twisted before the door could slide freely open. It was a frustrating experience in zero gravity, like trying to open a jar with a stubborn lid. Except that unlike a stuck jar, his future survival depended on getting it open, and his oxygen was limited.
When the door finally gave way and slid open, Malcolm breathed a sigh of relief. There was a motion activated LED light on the inside, which was a helpful touch, since he wasn’t sure how to activate his space suit’s head lamp.
“Alright,” he said. “Which ones are the solar panels?”
Tapestry instructed him more directly from that point forward. The panels were smaller than Malcolm had been expecting, small enough so that he could carry one in a single hand while pulling himself along the handholds with the other.
All of the installed panels were on a massive contraption that could be adjusted from inside the ship to keep it angled toward the sun. Malcolm immediately spotted the broken panels. A few of them were scored by black dust, which probably meant a small asteroid had been responsible for the damage.
“Alright,” said Malcolm. “I’m ready to get started.”
Tapestry explained how to pull the broken panels off and what to look for. She was calm, collected, and detail oriented. She was like an angel, whispering instructions into Malcolm’s ear and helping him keep his mind off the terrifying, uncaring reality of the openness of outer space.
It was difficult. Malcolm needed to first snap each broken panel free from its bracing, and then disconnect a cable, two tasks made difficult by the gloves of his suit. When the first panel came free, he moved at an awkward angle, losing his hold on the new solar panel and knocking it out of his reach.
“Go after it!” said Tapestry. “We can’t afford to lose many of those panels.”
“Uh…” Malcolm watched the panel as it slowly floated away. He took a deep breath, and pushed off from the outer surface of the spaceship.
He was moving away from Jupiter, but that only put him slightly more at ease. The safety line behind him seemed like a thin, insubstantial thing. His heart pounded harder in his chest with every meter of distance he put between himself and the ship.
He reached the solar panel before he got to the end of his line and turned to head back. The line didn’t even look like it was attached to the ship with how much slack it had let out. He managed to pull himself back toward the vessel with a single movement, a testament to how little energy it took to shift his direction in space.
Malcolm installed the first panel, and the second, and then the next five. There was only one broken panel left. He made the trip back toward the storage compartment slowly, feeling an enormous amount of relief at being near the end of the task.
“There’s some interference on the sensors,” said Tapestry. “I can’t tell from what. Be extra careful out there in the –”
Something struck Malcolm in the back with the force of a mean fastball. He gasped, praying that his suit would hold against whatever damage had been caused. He realized he’d let go of his handhold in surprise and turned to try to find it again.
Another bit of space debris struck him, pushing him away from the ship. Malcolm felt a surge of sudden, panicked survival instinct. He was going to be knocked loose. He was going to die.
No! I won’t die like this! I will survive, at any cost!
He gritted his teeth and took hold of his safety line. Something twisted inside of him, and he felt a sudden surge of energy unlike anything he’d experienced before. He’d heard of people pushing themselves to the limit in life or death situations and knew that he was right up against his.
He only saw the approaching chunk of space debris for an instant, long enough to guess that it was at least the size of a beach ball. In that moment, all Malcolm could think to do was to use his wind manipulation to stop it. His no longer functioning wind manipulation, which wouldn’t have worked in the vacuum of space, anyway. He called to it with every ounce of his will, and watched as it did nothing to stop the asteroid from striking him hard in the chest.
And then, everything went black.
CHAPTER 22
Malcolm groaned as he opened his eyes. His head was throbbing. Had he gotten jumped in the trading square again? Perhaps what was left of Bennett’s gang had found him and decided to take revenge for his attack on their
leader…
His eyes focused, and days of his life snapped back into recent memory. He was in a spacesuit. Which meant that he was still in the middle of his spacewalk, repairing the ship’s solar panels.
Except the ship was nowhere in sight. And his safety line was no longer attached to anything. Malcolm felt terror surge through him at the implication.
“Tapestry!” he shouted. “Tapestry!”
There was no response. Malcolm twisted, spinning in a circle. He could see Jupiter behind him, and it seemed larger than it had been before. Of course. That made sense. An asteroid had knocked him loose from the ship, and it had been traveling in the direction of the nearest planet, pulled in by that immense well of gravity. Just like what was now happening to him.
This can’t be as bad as it seems. Tapestry must know where I am. She’s probably on her way to save me.
He spun around again, searching for the ship behind him. It wasn’t there, and though he saw several small pinpricks of light that might have been it, they might also have been stars.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Tapestry! If you can hear me…”
If she can hear me… what? I don’t know where I am, and I can’t hear her.
There was a crack on the front of Malcolm’s helmet. He couldn’t hear if it was leaking oxygen or not, but it wasn’t a good sign. And if he was out of sight of the ship, it didn’t matter either way. But he couldn’t have been unconscious for that long. The ship had to still be nearby.
Malcolm drifted without purpose or destination. He tried to slow his breathing as much as he could, and conserve what oxygen he had left. It was something he could focus on, a tiny thing within his control.
Am I… going to make it?
The hopelessness of his situation crept up on him over the next few minutes. Any faith he had in saving himself or being rescued was fading like the sun over the horizon. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of when he’d first stood on the edge of the airlock. This was his worst nightmare. He was helpless, cast adrift into the void. A tiny, pathetic human in an infinite sea of nothing.
“Well…” he muttered. “That’s it, then.”
It’s over. I did my best.
He chuckled, and then felt despair seize him by the heart. A painful lump formed in his throat. He was ready for tears, but they never came. They would have been a pain to deal with in zero gravity, anyway.
Drifting.
Malcolm heard a faint, slightly ominous chiming noise, which he guessed was his life support system informing him that he was running dangerously low on oxygen. He didn’t know for sure, as the heads-up display was broken along with most of the rest of his electronics. He had no way of knowing how much longer he had to live.
I had a good run. I’m alright with this being the end.
He considered it, wondering if that was really the truth. Was there anyone back on Earth who would miss him? Perhaps Rose, but that was assuming that her memories of him ever came back. Maybe it was better for Malcolm to die in space, billions of miles away. He was the last person who knew the painful truth of her past. Perhaps if he died, it would die with him.
And Tapestry. She would mourn for him, sure. But she didn’t love him anymore, not how she once had. She was strong enough to keep moving forward and maybe even rescue Savior on her own. He’d fixed all but one of the solar panels. Surely that would be enough, if the ship only needed to use its electricity to support her.
“I did all that I could,” he muttered. “And I did a pretty damn good job.”
There was no response. Malcolm exhaled and was surprised when it came out shaky, verging on a sob. He’d never felt so alone before in his life. Even living in his hideout in the months after the collapse, scraping by on foraged food and fearing for his life, he’d at least occasionally been around other people.
Was this the fate he’d earned for himself? To drift through space, endlessly. To stare out the faceplate of his helmet at a planet a thousand times the size of Earth, knowing that it would be the last thing he’d ever see. He wouldn’t get to die fighting. He’d go out with a whimper instead of a bang.
The ominous chiming noise sounded again, twice this time. Malcolm wanted to close his eyes, but he was afraid of where his thoughts might take him if he did. He wished that he could see his friend’s faces one last time. Selfishly, he found himself wishing that they were there with him, so he wasn’t alone.
No. This is my fate and mine alone.
He turned his head to look at Jupiter, and it felt as though the planet was staring back at him, making eye contact. He was close enough now that he could see the massive storms that raged across the planet. He was close enough that he could feel them with his wind manipulation, even through what had to be thousands of miles of empty space.
My… wind manipulation?
Malcolm flinched in surprise. He could feel the wind on Jupiter with his powers. They’d finally returned to him, so long after he’d given up hope. And now, of all times, when it was already past the point of being helpful.
But was it past that point? He reached with his hand and slowly flexed the glove of the spacesuit. There had always been a limit to how far he could extend his powers out, but he’d never considered whether it was a static limit or something influenced by what filled the space between him and his target. There was nothing but empty space between him and Jupiter.
I have to give it a try.
Part of him was afraid to try, afraid of letting hope pull him up only to sink him further into a pit of despair and failure. Malcolm reminded himself that if he was going to die either way, then it didn’t matter in the end. He took a deep, calming breath, and focused.
It was so hard. His awareness of Jupiter’s atmosphere was a tenuous thing, like seeing vague outlines in a darkened room. He gritted his teeth and squeezed every muscle in his body in concentration. He called out to the winds of Jupiter, summoning them with all the concentrated will his powers would allow, and pulled.
The effect was tiny at first. Malcolm saw a small, distinct, orange bump rise upward on Jupiter’s atmosphere, like one of the bumps on a basketball. Slowly, it extended upward, the atmosphere pooling around the base of it as it formed into a thin pillar of hydrogen, ammonia, and methane. He called it toward him, urging it to his rescue, and watched it approach as a rushing stream of gas, cutting through space with a mind of its own.
Sweat trickled down Malcolm’s face. He didn’t know how long he’d been focusing for. At least several minutes had gone by, maybe close to an hour. The ominous chime was incessant now, his spacesuit’s life support system sharing in his panic.
The wind manipulated pillar of atmosphere reached him just as the chime became a screeching siren. Malcolm had only pulled up enough of it push him in the direction he needed to go, and already he could feel the vacuum of space sapping the gas out of his control. He pushed himself away from the planet, toward a light in the distance that he prayed was his ship.
Malcolm struggled to stay conscious. No matter how much he gasped for air, he couldn’t satisfy his lungs with the thinning levels of oxygen left in his suit. He could see it now. The ship was ahead of him. Black dots mottled his vision. He gave himself one final push with what little of Jupiter’s atmosphere he still had behind him, throwing himself into the airlock.
“Tapestry…” he muttered, voice weak.
He banged on the inner airlock door and hoped.
CHAPTER 23
The outer airlock door closed, and the airlock pressurized. Malcolm could breathe again, which told him that the crack in his helmet had probably been worse than he’d thought. He grinned like an idiot, feeling more pride in himself than he’d ever felt in his entire life.
As the inner airlock door opened, Tapestry slowly came into view on the other side. Her hair was messy, and the front of the astronaut jumpsuit she wore was stained with tears. She pulled him into a hug, wrapping her arms around his suit, and let out a body shaking sob.
&nb
sp; “Malcolm!” she cried. “Oh my god, Malcolm! I was so worried!”
“I’m okay,” he said. “And I was pretty worried too.”
“Oh Malcolm…” Tapestry pulled back, but only slightly. She let out a strangled laugh. “I can’t believe it. How… I had the sensors search the area for you. Where were you?”
Malcolm pulled her back into a hug, suddenly feeling like he needed to have her even closer. He was back, and she was there with him, and everything was right in the world. He felt like he could cry, too.
“It’s a long story,” he said. “And I don’t completely understand it, myself.”
He pulled his helmet off, determined to give her a kiss, even if it only found its way to her cheek. He grinned at Tapestry, and then frowned as he saw the confusion in her expression. Confusion which quickly shifted to horror, and then to total despair. She brought her hands to her mouth and shook her head.
“No…” Tapestry’s body shook with another silent sob. “No! Why…?”
Malcolm was stunned by her sudden shift.
“What?” he said. “What is it?”
“Again!” she screamed. “Not again… Why… What did I do to deserve this a second time?”
Malcolm gaped at her. He reached a hand out to set onto her shoulder. She pulled back as though it were the red-hot tip of a fire brand.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “I’m alive. You don’t have to –”
“Malcolm...” She wiped a hand across her eyes and put more distance between them. “Don’t come any closer!”
Her tone of voice triggered something inside of Malcolm. He looked down at his helmet, staring into his own reflection in the faceplate. What he saw there made his insides twist into a knot.
His skin was several shades darker than he remembered it being, with a hint of blue to its tone. A dozen or more small bumps ran around the crown of his skull in a circle. Malcolm crumpled, hanging where he was in zero gravity, but bending at the knees in an attempt to fall to them.
Former Champion (Vanderbrook Champions Book 5) Page 10