Prisoner Six

Part 9

The wheel of Externo spun beneath Sam as she floated towards the nearest handhold, a few yards away, and caught it—while Dave payed out her tether. Finding the first micrometeoroid hole on the hull, she held on to the ship with her left hand and unclipped the welder from her belt with her right. She then hooked her arm to the ship as best she could and welded the hole shut with both hands.

Sam repeated this process five times: clipping the tools to her belt, releasing her grip, floating to the next handhold, getting a new grip, then unclipping her tools and welding the holes shut. Each time, Dave waited patiently and payed out more tether... ensuring Sam would not float away forever, should she miss a handhold or lose her grip while welding.

The last micrometeoroid hole was the largest, situated on an outer portion of the wheel. Sam needed all of her strength to hold on against the centrifugal force as she climbed in its direction. Nearly missing her last grip, she used a loop of her floating tether to grasp it and pull herself in, like a lasso. With a tenuous one-handed grip, she welded the final breach for what seemed like an eternity, her muscles trembling with the effort. At last, she completed the seal and clipped the welder to her belt, holding on to the ship firmly with both hands so she could catch her breath.

"Okay," she gasped, unaware of how much energy she had exerted in the repairs. Her oxygen was now at 20%, leaving only 30 minutes left. They had to work fast. "Let's close the hatch and test the compartment's pressure... slowly."

"Yes, Commander," said Dave.

Before climbing back to the inside of the wheel, Sam allowed herself a moment to glance out into empty space. Like looking down from a high wire, staring into the void was not advisable during deep space EVAs. A dense, penetrating darkness surrounded and consumed her. "Home" was so far behind; it was indistinguishable from the other dim planets and stars. Then again, was it really home? Or was the blackness her home now? A glint of light pulled Sam's thoughts back to the task at hand. Just beyond the wheel, she could see the visible edge of the asteroid belt. Its light dimmed the nearby stars and served as a grim reminder that the end of her journey was close at hand—for better or worse.

Sam turned around and readied herself. Nearly forty yards away, she saw Dave clip her tether to the anchoring hook closest to the loading hatch—and shut the door. She was now sealed off from the ship, depending entirely on Dave to test the pressure of the compartment... and let her back inside. But Sam wasn't stupid. Emergency doors automatically closed during a hull breach to contain the compartment. Like all hatches and compartments on the ship, these doors could only be opened using her ID code. So, yes, Dave was alone inside the ship, but he couldn't get out of that compartment. Not without Sam.

"Re-equalizing air pressure," said Dave over the radio. Sam waited for a few moments, then...

"Anything?"

"Readings seem normal," he said.

"Vox?"

"PC2 pressure is stabilizing," said the computer, "but still reading anomalies."

"Where?" she asked.

There was a pause; then Vox answered, "Inconclusive."

"Maybe there was damage in a joint seal, something you missed. Do you see any air escaping?" asked Dave.

Sam craned her head around to view the hull. Everything looked normal, until... she spotted a puff of dusty air escaping just past the hatch, near the spoke.

"I see something—on the other side of the hatch. You're right; I think it's on a seam near the spoke. Stop the equalization process, I don't want to risk further rupture."