The predawn light filtered through the porthole, barely illuminating their sleeping compartment. Jancey had slept soundly for seven hours, more than enough to feel thoroughly rested.
Near as she could tell, Mila had slept peacefully as well. All week, in fact. Her lanky frame took up slightly more than half the space, but only because of her propensity to drift diagonally in the night, away from the edges of their enclosure and toward the center of the bed. Since their pillows were at opposite ends, Jancey sometimes dealt with feet that came to rest on her stomach.
It was almost comical how quickly they both had adapted to sleeping together. Or, as she’d phrased it for the logs, syncing their sleep schedules.
She studied Mila in the gray light. A youthful face on the body of a woman, not a child. If she needed a reminder of that, she had only to dwell on the curve of her breasts beneath the thin shirt that fit her body like a layer of blue skin. Temptation.
And why shouldn’t she give in? There was no reason to resist something that was inevitable. Already they were committed to living together forever. Mila wanted her. Jancey could feel it, just as she felt Mila’s eyes on her every time she undressed.
She sat up and plotted her exit strategy from the chamber. With Mila sleeping so close to the doorway, the only way out was to crawl over her. Poised on all fours directly above her face, she was startled when Mila opened her eyes and blinked.
“This is certainly interesting,” Mila murmured with a faint smile.
“You’re dreaming. Go back to sleep.”
“I’m afraid I’ll miss something.”
Jancey continued her maneuver, but with less care. Her knee crushed Mila’s shoulder, causing her to howl in pain. “You won’t miss a thing. I promise I’ll put it in the log.”
Since they’d begun sleeping together, she too had taken to wearing shorts and a T-shirt instead of her long thermal underwear. Even when the temperatures outside dropped overnight to freezing, their small compartment stayed warm from their breath and mutual body heat. Not so with the rest of the habitat. The low fifties, she guessed as she pulled on her flight suit and zipped it to her neck. She followed with her spacesuit, taking over Mila’s usual job to conduct the morning walk-around.
It had been several days since their last disruption from the staff. The fact that they’d been sleeping soundly at the same time made them even more vigilant about checking for sabotage.
Mila had pulled the blanket over her head, signaling her refusal to get up.
Jancey passed her comm and headset through the opening. “Put this on. I’m going out to look around. Listen for anything coming in from Mission Control.”
No obvious changes to the exterior of the dome. Water supply intact. She climbed the ladder to inspect the connections to the solar panels and turned them toward the rising sun. From the top, she could see a vehicle parked on the service road near the habitat two spots away from theirs—Jerry and Wade’s. Two staffers emerged, each lending support to one of the astronauts as they walked them to the vehicle.
“You aren’t going to believe this,” Jancey said into her comm. “Jerry and Wade are being evacuated. Looks like they’re very sick.”
“Can you tell what’s wrong?”
“No, but it’s both of them. Probably something in their food supply. We should go through everything again.”
In their first examination, conducted on the day they arrived, they’d found a handful of suspicious items. Sealed pouches that appeared swollen, an indication that bacteria were growing inside. Vacuum-wrapped meat that was discolored. They’d used their microscope to examine a packet of dried potatoes with suspicious black flecks. Bug droppings. Seasoned pros like Jerry and Wade should have caught those things, so it was worrisome to think something had gotten by.
“I’ll be out here a while longer. I need to collect some materials for a new water filter.”
“Keep me posted. I’ll start the food check.”
The selection committee had promised not to disqualify anyone with a genuine medical emergency. That might not be the case if their health issues sprang from carelessness. She and Mila had a lot more flexibility when it came to food because they ate less than the others. They could afford to discard anything that appeared marginal.
She removed a plastic bag and trowel from her tool pouch and stooped as low as her spacesuit would allow to scrape up a layer of rocks and gravel. As she filled a second bag with fine sand, another vehicle pulled in, this one even with the dome three sites down from theirs. David and Kamal.
“Mila, I don’t think it’s the food. Stay away from the water.”
* * *
Mila finished the last of her oats, which she’d heated to boiling from their emergency water supply. That had been Jancey’s idea. Always thinking two or three steps ahead.
The hot breakfast warmed her up, so much that she unzipped her flight suit to her waist and slipped it off her shoulders, leaving her in a tank top.
Jancey, on the other hand, still looked practically crisp in the same outfit, despite having worn it twenty-two days in a row. She was studying a sample from their water tank through her microscope. “There’s the culprit right there. Fecal coliform. Want to see?”
“I’d rather not, thank you.” Biology wasn’t Mila’s forte, but even an idiot knew what the word “fecal” meant. “Reminds me of your little energy tablet test on the first day of orientation.”
“This is worse. It would be like drinking water from a cow toilet. No wonder they were sick.”
That was way more descriptive than Mila would have liked. She’d grown accustomed to recycling her urine, but didn’t care to think what lay in the bottom of their compost lavatory. “So how did it get there?”
“It had to be in the water supply wherever they’re loading the delivery truck. That’s the only way it could have infected all of us. They could have gotten a blockage in their stack vent. It causes the sewer or the septic tank to back up into your tap.”
“Stop already. I’m sorry I asked.”
“Basically, we need to chlorinate and boil.”
“That’s going to drain our power packs, especially since we’re down a panel.”
“I’ll say this…it would have been a lot worse if it hadn’t been so cold up here. That stuff thrives in warm weather.”
“You don’t think Mission Control would do something like this on purpose, do you?”
Jancey turned off the light on her microscope and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her eyes. “Seems a little risky. Infections like these can be deadly if they aren’t treated right away. I should write up our findings and send it in.”
While she did that, Mila added chlorine tablets to the water they’d drawn for the day’s use. “We have to assume this is part of the trial, don’t you think?”
“Unless we hear otherwise. We should collect more gravel and sand. If we filter and chlorinate, we may not have to boil.”
Which meant saving their precious power packs.
Mila dressed in her spacesuit and stepped into the bright sunlight. After trudging several dozen meters up the hillside to a fresh area of scree and silt, she paused to catch her breath. From her vantage point, all eight habitats were clearly visible.
Four huts away, one of the Norwegians was climbing atop their dome. Had he been suffering ill effects from the water, he likely wouldn’t be out and about.
“Hey, Jancey. If the problem was at the water source, wouldn’t everyone be sick?”
“Depends on how much they drank. To tell you the truth, I’m surprised they haven’t sent out a notice.”
“Me too. It makes me wonder if they did this on purpose. But not to everybody.” She clicked off her comm as she entered through the hatch and removed her helmet. “Like when they stole our solar panel. Maybe they’re just trying to see how we respond.”
Jancey dipped a medicine dropper into the bucket of water that had run through their rock and sand filter. Peering into the microscope, she said, “Good news. Between the chlorine tablets and the filter, we’re under one part per million. That’s well under the threshold for potable. But to be safe, we should use a new filter for every two liters.”
“That’s a lot of time outside scraping up rocks. I had to go about fifty meters up the hill to get enough sand for two of these.” Their two-hour limit outside was barely enough to stay ahead of their needs. The whole plan would collapse if another emergency arose, or if they lost time due to another solar flare. On the other hand… “Should I feel guilty for appreciating the fact that we have something to do?”
Jancey huffed. “You should feel grateful I went outside at just the right moment to see those guys taken out. Otherwise we probably would have been puking our guts out right about now…or worse. I can’t believe we still haven’t heard anything from Mission Control. It’s been over an hour.”
Mila dressed again in her spacesuit and went back outside to collect more materials for another filter. No one else outside this time, and no vehicles in sight. After climbing the dome to adjust the solar panels to the midday sun, she reentered and stripped out of her space suit.
“I only have about fifteen minutes left outside. I can go again this afternoon but—”
The tablet beeped with a message from Mission Control.
“That better not be another solar flare,” Jancey said, climbing over Mila’s discarded suit to read what it said. “Fecal coliform contamination is suspected in water supplies that were delivered to habitats yesterday. For safety reasons, you should chlorinate and boil all water before drinking it or using it in food preparation. Staff will be onsite today to chlorinate tanks and replace current supplies.”
“Looks like this wasn’t part of the trial after all,” Mila said.
Jancey frowned, obviously not sharing her relief. “No, but something about this feels off. We just got our water delivered yesterday. How did those guys get sick so fast? It should have taken at least three or four days for them to get bad enough to be evacuated.”
“What are you thinking?”
“That they must have been contaminated earlier. Which means we dodged a bullet. That could have been us. I don’t know about you, but it makes me wonder what else we’ve been careless about.”
“We have nothing but time,” Mila said. “We might as well double-check everything.”
“Agreed. No excuses for missing the details. All it takes to knock us out is one small mistake.”
Mila recalled her promise to Jancey when she chose her for a partner. I will not let you down. This was a reminder to make good on that promise.
* * *
Jancey chuckled to herself as Mila stabbed a morsel of food and twirled it around on her fork, studying it from all sides.
“I’ve never seen a spam in the wild. What do they look like?”
“They’re small, rectangular shaped. A very hard shell on the outside.”
“Sedentary, I bet. They seem to have a lot of fat.”
If Jancey had to describe her mood in one word, it would be satisfied. Working together throughout the day, they’d inspected every single piece of equipment. Every morsel of food. Every item on four different checklists. She was confident they were in great shape.
Tenacity staff had delivered the new water supply and chlorinated their tank. She still felt guilty for not catching it earlier. The test strips they used weren’t one hundred percent reliable. It wouldn’t have been a big deal to follow it with a look under the microscope.
Mila held up another spear of meat. “When we get to Mars, will you be breeding these little spams? I envision dozens of them climbing around on the furniture, nesting in our shoes until we’re ready to snatch one and cook it for dinner. Then they all scurry under the bed.”
“Do I detect a tongue in that cheek of yours?”
Although Mila’s question was indeed posed with humor, Jancey knew her well enough by now to recognize a genuine curiosity. She was a sponge when it came to science.
“We won’t need to breed our meat. Cloning technology is further along than you think. The Japanese have been working on this for decades. By the time we launch, I’m willing to bet the pilot’s seat we’ll be able to replicate similar types of protein, and I have no doubt our three-D printers can be programmed to crank out tin shells for the little critters.”
Mila’s eyebrows arched in obvious surprise and her mouth had formed a perfect O. “The pilot’s seat? What makes you think it’s yours to wager?”
“You can’t possibly think I’m going to let you drive. I have seniority.”
“I have sharper vision and better dexterity.”
“JanSolo would disagree.”
Her cocky face fell flat instantly. “You said yourself my scores would be higher if those chickenshit men had stuck around to be annihilated. I’ll take on JanSolo anytime, anywhere.”
“You’re on. And don’t expect me to show mercy just because you’re my partner and I’m worried about undermining your confidence.”
“Oh, I get it. Just in case I win, you want me to think it’s because you let me.”
Jancey grinned triumphantly. Of all their accomplishments in the past three weeks, the one that pleased her most was their rapport. A welcome surprise. Mila had turned out to be the perfect partner. She had determination and curiosity. A dry wit that moderated her impatience and frustration. And all of it in a package that piqued the imagination.
Grace had been right to urge her toward Mila. Marlon would have been competent and professional, whereas Mila was all that, plus the little something extra she could never have gotten from a man.
“I like how we handled the water issue today,” Mila said. She’d finished her dinner and was wiping down her utensils with an antiseptic cloth. “We think alike and that makes us very good partners.”
Jancey cleaned her dishes and set them back in the bin with their galley supplies. “It’s always easy when we agree. The real test is how we’ll deal with it when we don’t. We need to challenge each other. It makes us work harder to think things through. What will you do when we disagree?”
“I’ll make my argument and try to convince you. That’s what you did to me with the poi. I still gag just thinking about it, but what you said was irrefutable. Isn’t that what you would do?”
“I suppose. You convinced me to choose you instead of Marlon. You made some very good points, especially about the committee not wanting to select a pair of Americans. That was persuasive.”
Though it wasn’t as compelling as the realization that both of them likely would have been shamefully disrespected as colleagues had they gone with one of the men. As much as she’d tried to dismiss it, there was little doubt she’d have been miserable sharing the rest of her life in a small space with a man, even one as honorable as Marlon Quinn. She had Grace to thank for sowing those doubts.
“What if we disagree and neither of us wants to give in?” she asked.
Mila shrugged. “I can’t imagine that happening very often. We both look at things through a scientific lens. Besides, I made you a promise. You’re the commander on this mission, and for good reason.” She held up her hand to ward off the protest that was already on Jancey’s lips. “I know what my job is. I’m as responsible as you are for everything we do together, and I don’t plan to follow you blindly off the cliff. Ultimately though it comes down to trust. Once I’ve gone through training and actually experienced what it’s like to live in space, I might—might—trust myself as much as I trust you, but we both know that won’t happen for quite some time.”
Jancey appreciated her honesty as well as her confidence, but was more worried about personal differences than professional. “What I want to know is do you fight fair or dirty?”
“Oh.” Mila smiled slyly. “So this is about fighting. Like when you get angry and won’t speak to me.”
“What makes you think I’d do that?”
“Because you don’t strike me as the type who goes ballistic and starts screaming and slapping. You’re too cool for that. I’m the same way. I listen quietly and think about everything that’s said. Even if I don’t agree with it, I usually modify my behavior to avoid having to hear it again.”
Jancey shook her head. “No one is that reasonable.”
“I am. I’ve had a great deal of practice with Frederica. Mind you, my goal was to avoid her criticism, and I discovered many ways to do that, including ways that didn’t involve changing the offending behavior at all. Like coming home when she was already in bed, or putting on my headphones and pretending I was listening to a lecture. Or agreeing to meet her only when there were other people around because I knew she wouldn’t criticize me in front of them.”
“That’s passive aggressive. Very uncivilized.”
She shrugged. “It worked. But you won’t have to worry about it.”
“How’s that?”
“I won’t give you anything to criticize, at least not more than once. If there’s something about me that upsets you, tell me what it is and I’ll change it on the spot. We don’t have a lot of room for disagreements, Jancey. Literally. We won’t have enough space to pull away, nor the luxury of me doing it my way and you doing it yours.” By her businesslike expression and methodical tone, she could have been talking about propulsion systems. “The moment we selected each other as partners, we began a relationship where the only way to break up is to die. The way I feel about you, I’m certain I’ll make the changes you need me to make.”
“The way you feel? You’ve only known me for a month.”
“Not true. I’ve known you since I was thirteen years old. Dreamed of you, adored you, loved you. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even be here.”
“That isn’t love. It’s hero worship. All thirteen-year-olds do it, but they usually outgrow it when they step into the real world.”
“Not if the real world they step into is the same as their fantasy world.”
Jancey shook her head vehemently. “No, you can’t put that on me. The Jancey Beaumont you knew when you were growing up is a media creation, not a real person. All those hero stories were meant to sell newspapers and magazines, and to get more funding for NASA. The real me was just someone doing her job, someone who was pretty pissed off about having her mission interrupted by a couple of bumbling Cossacks.”
“You were someone who actually accomplished something I only dreamed of. And all because you set your sights on it and followed through. I read your personal story. Princeton, air force, NASA. You showed determination. Tenacity. What part of that wasn’t real?”
“I’m saying it’s not realistic for you to call it love.”
Mila’s fingers rapped the table and her knee began to bounce. Unmistakable agitation. “There’s no other word for it. To me, it’s the most powerful, all-consuming feeling I could possibly have. When being with someone makes me deliriously happy, I call that love. When that happiness is so great I’m willing to shape my life around having it and keeping it, that’s love. When I care about someone else more than I care about myself, that’s love.”
The last one landed like a slap across the face. There hadn’t been a single time in Jancey’s life when she cared about anyone more than her own ambitions. She always chose the same thing—whatever got her closer to going into space.
What made being with Mila different was not having to choose between one or the other.
“All I’m saying, Mila, is the hero you know…the one who inspired you, the one you think you love…that isn’t all there is to me. It’s only the good parts, and you’ll be disappointed if you expect to find that person all the time. You have to let me be myself.”
Mila folded her arms and tipped back on two legs of her chair, her face just short of a scowl. “Whatever gave you the idea I expected you to be perfect? This conversation started with you asking how we’d handle something when we disagreed. I would have thought we’d handle it with honesty but now I’m not so sure. Should I have kept my feelings to myself?”
An excellent question, Jancey had to admit. As she knew from Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, there was nothing honorable about hiding the truth. “No, the truth is always better. If I have a problem with it, that’s on me.”
Ironically, their entire discussion had been a disagreement of sorts, which they’d managed by putting everything on the table and working through it on the way to a conclusion they both could live with. Except Jancey hadn’t confessed her own feelings. She hadn’t told Mila how she looked forward to growing closer. How she wanted to let go of her reservations. How she was waiting for her emotions to catch up with her libido because she wanted Mila to mean more than anyone in her life.
“Mila…I appreciate everything you said. Really, I do. And believe me, you have my attention now. I’m flattered you feel that way about me, but it’s also unnerving to know I’m under your microscope.”
“I don’t want you to be flattered. That’s condescending.”
“I don’t mean it to be. I enjoy the feeling, and I’d be very disappointed to lose it.” That was the closest she could come for now to admitting how she felt. “Just keep in mind that you’ve had many years to develop your feelings. I haven’t. But I know this much—I don’t want to be on a pedestal. I can’t respect someone I look down on, and I can’t love someone I don’t respect.”
With her chair back down on four legs, Mila rested her elbows on her knees and stared blankly at the floor. Chastened. “That will be very hard for me to do.”
“You can start by taking stock of your own accomplishments. I don’t deserve credit for those. You’re the one who followed through. You put in the hours and the brain power. The propulsion system—that was brilliant. And you’re the one who shot up to the top of the candidate list without any prior training whatsoever. If one of us should be in awe…” She tapped her chest.
A scarlet blush crept from Mila’s cheeks to her neck as she struggled in vain to suppress a smile.
“I’d say that’s how we’re going to handle differences,” Jancey said. “We’ll work them out. But let’s not forget why we’re here. Our priority for the next three weeks is to finish on top. If we don’t do that, nothing else matters.”