The Moonwalker

Chapter 16.1

(Note: Aula's speech is now normal. The surgery in previous chapters will be changed later on.)

Aula walks into the command module at 6 am on the dot. Chatter echoes from the Cubby down the hall. Nakamura and Ward are already present. A video is replaying on one of the laptops. They both look up and for all their composure, neither one expects it to be her. Ward moves to close the laptop, but Aula holds up her hand.

"It's okay."

Nakamura studies her. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He presses play.

It shows Aula trying to manoeuvre with some grace over the MAF's railing. She shuffles along its outer hull in the bulky Z-1. Regolith puffs around her boots as she shifts position. It's absolutely dark behind her. None of the soft blue earthglow is visible on camera. The meteorite gleams beside her like scorched iron.

"I see a breach in the fuel line."

"So do we. Mind stepping back for us?"

She places one bulky glove on the bumper. "Cop—"

A tiny bloom of white vapour. That's it. Her suit's profile goes still. A garbled half-word over comm. She slowly teeters off-balance. The first sign of life is her reaching for the pole. Her glove tips brush against it. Then she falls into absolute darkness.

"Al?"

The camera jerks forward. Harvey braces himself against the railing to keep from going over. His lights show cutouts of the MAF as he follows her tether down. Her boots appear first, smudged dark grey with dust. Her legs jut at odd angles because the suit's air pressure. Her arms stick out in the same way. She swings on the tether and hits the MAF's shield. Her PLSS takes the brunt of it, but the impact ripples through the Z-1.

"Al."

A gagging sound. A splatter. Like someone dumping water onto concrete. She hits the shield again. No reaction this time. No twitch, no sound, nothing. Her visor is hidden by the shadows cast by her legs.

"What's going on up there?" Bauer asks.

"Al fell off," Harvey says with sudden professional calm. "She's not responding."

Hinton's voice is curt, but equally calm. "We still have vitals."

"Copy." The camera swings towards the MAF as Kalashnikoff lopes to his side. "Kal, help me bring her in. Ben, I need you to prep the SEVs."

"Prepping the cars. Out."

Harvey and Kalashnikoff grab the tether like they're playing a tug-of-war and start bring it in. Their breaths huff against the mic and create bursts of static. Aula's boots surface into the light. They grasp her left leg and arm and haul her over the railing. Then they get a good look at her visor. It's almost completely obscured by dark blood spatter. Frost glitters on one side of her helmet.

Kalashnikoff hisses through his teeth. "Pisdets."

"We've got ice, Rob."

It takes three long seconds for Hinton to answer. "Check for punctures. We're reading a decrease in suit pressure."

"Wilco."

Big white gloves press against the Z-1's soft spots: arms, legs, and hands. Anything meant to move. Harvey grasps her hand and she jerks to life. Two startled inhalations crackle over the comm.

"Bleeding," she gurgles.

"We know." Harvey squeezes her hand. "Tell us where."

Aula makes another splattering sound. "Air."