“Are you bouncing up and down?” he asked. “Because you sound like you’re bouncing.”
“This is the most important thing that’s happened to me in my life,” she said. “I’m floating.”
“So this means we can treat the eye thing, right?”
“What? Oh. Yeah, probably. It’s not like oncocidals are hard to synthesize. Just most of us don’t need a constant course the way Holden does.”
“You are the only woman I have ever known who would figure out how to keep a bunch of starving refugees including herself from going blind and be excited because it means something about microbiology.”
“You should get out more. Meet people,” Elvi said, but she felt a little pull of guilt. She probably should try to get people treated before she started talking to the team on Luna. It was still just a hypothesis anyway. She didn’t have any data yet. “Connection request Murtry.”
Her hand terminal chimed that it was working. A gust of wind made the plastic window flutter. It sounded a little different than usual, and the constantly falling rain sounded louder. She wondered if the sheeting might be coming unsealed. There could be death-slugs creeping around the room and she wouldn’t have known. Wouldn’t have seen them. Something else she’d have to ask Holden to check. The double-tone of connection refused made her grunt.
“Who’s working on the drops?” she asked.
“Upstairs? Um. Havelock, I think.”
“Connection request Havelock.”
The hand terminal made a single chime and then stopped. She wasn’t sure if it had gone through or failed.
“Mister Havelock? Are you there?” she asked.
“I’m afraid it’s not a good time, Doctor.”
“You’re coordinating the drops? I need to see if we can get—”
“Is this something where people are going to die if I don’t fix it in the next five minutes?”
“Five minutes?” she said. “No.”
“Then it’s going to have to wait.” The hand terminal made the falling tone of a dropped connection.
“Well, that was fucking rude,” Fayez said.
“He probably has something else going on,” she said.
“We’re all under a little stress here. Doesn’t mean he has to be a dick about it.”
Elvi lifted her eyebrows and nodded, knowing as she did that he couldn’t see her. “Connection request Holden.”
The tones cycled until she was afraid he wouldn’t answer either. When he did, his voice sounded terrible. Like he was drunk or sick. “Elvi. What’s the matter?”
“Hi,” she said. “I don’t know if you’re busy right now, and you’re not really responsible for getting supplies to us, but if you have a minute, I’d like to—”
Fayez shouted, interrupting her. “She knows how to make us not blind.”
There was a pause. Holden grunted. She imagined it was the effort of standing up. “Okay. I’ll be right there.”
“Bring Lucia,” Elvi said. “If you can find her.”
“Is Murtry going to be there?”
“He’s not answering my connection requests.”
“Hmm,” Holden said. “That’s good. I don’t think he’s happy with me right now.”
Lucia sat at Elvi’s side, holding her hand. It should have felt like an intimacy, but in context, it only seemed to indicate that she was giving Elvi her full attention. A physical analog to eye contact. Holden was pacing around the room, his footsteps sticky-sounding with the mud.
When she was done, Lucia made a ticking sound with her tongue and teeth. “I don’t know how we’d manage dosages. I don’t want to give people so little that it doesn’t have an effect.”
“What about picking babysitters?” Fayez said. “A dozen people whose cases aren’t as advanced. Shoot them up. They can take care of the rest of us until there’s another drop. Captain?”
“What? Oh, sorry. I was… um. There’s a hole in the window. Plastic. I was just making sure there weren’t any death-slugs in here. And fixing it.”
“Captain,” Lucia said, her voice sharp and crisp. “You’re taking medications for a chronic and potentially terminal condition. We are discussing whether or not to use your medication to treat other patients and leave you without.”
“That’s fine.”
“Ethically, it’s actually a little problematic,” Lucia said. “If I’m going to do this, and I very much want to, I need to know that you understand—”
“I do, I do, I do,” he said. “I’ve sucked down enough radiation that I bloom tumors a lot. The thing that keeps it under control does that thing with the other thing. And then there are other people and I can take a nap.”
Elvi could hear Lucia’s smile when she spoke. “I’m not sure the human subjects board would call that sufficient, but broadly yes.”
“Of course you use it,” he said. “Use it, go ahead. We’ll get more if we can.”
“And if we can’t?”
“I might get a new tumor before we starve. I might not,” Holden said. “I’m okay with that.”
Lucia took back her hand, leaving Elvi’s feeling a little colder. “All right, then. We should start. Can you guide me please, Captain?”
“Yes,” Holden said. “Yes, I can. But we may need to get a cup of coffee. I’m feeling a little tired.”
“I can get you some stimulants if you’d like, but there’s no coffee.”
“Right,” Holden said. “No coffee. This is a terrible, terrible planet. Show me how to make everyone better.”
Chapter Forty-Two: Havelock
The armor in the brig was a simple, unpowered suit of Kevlar and ceramic. It was vacuum rated and had a fitting for a half-hour air bottle. Its intended uses included breaking up brawls among the crew and making short, tactical spacewalks. There were probably a dozen more like it up in the main security station. He hoped that the engineers didn’t think of them. When Havelock stepped into it, it pulled his pant legs up, bunching the cloth uncomfortably at the crotch. He put the shotgun strap over his shoulder and shifted, using both hands to pluck the pant back into place.
“Laughter doesn’t help,” he said.
“Wasn’t laughing,” Naomi replied, then laughed.
He took a fistful of disposable handcuffs and two Tasers from the gun locker. One had a full charge, the other was at three-eighths. He made a mental note to check the batteries on all the weapons later, then remembered that there probably wasn’t going to be a later. Not for him, at least. He could leave a note for Wei or something. He thought about calling Marwick, warning him that things were getting complex. Relying on the man’s decency and instincts.
He didn’t do it.
Naomi, floating behind him, stretched out, her fingers and toes splayed in the open air. Her paper jumpsuit crinkled and popped with every motion. Havelock looked around his office one last time. It was strange, knowing he probably wouldn’t see it again. And if he did, it’d be from the inside of the cage.
If that happened, though, it would be because they’d found some way to keep from dropping into the atmosphere, burning in the high air. So the chances were low. He wasn’t going to worry about it.
“First mutiny?” Naomi said.
“Yeah. It’s not really something I do.”
“It gets easier,” she said, holding out her hand. He looked at it in confusion. “I can take one of those.”
“No,” he said, tuning the suit comm unit to the channel the training group used as a default. There was no chatter at all. That was odd. He cycled through the other frequencies.
“No?”
“Look, I’m getting you out of here. Doesn’t mean I’m comfortable handing you a weapon and turning my back.”