Quiet Invasion(102)

“An hour away, tops,” came the answer.

“Make sure they know we’re under pressure.”

They were all on their knees now, trying to hold the contorting bodies down, trying to speak soothing words that could not possibly be heard. The rescued team might as well have been naked to the heat and the pressure. Vee could see Angela’s neck muscles swell. A thin ribbon of blood ran from her ear. Vee tried to hold Angela as she curled in on herself, but Vee couldn’t tell whether the gesture was helping or hurting. Vee couldn’t hear her, couldn’t feel her. Angela was outside her. Vee couldn’t check Angela’s breathing or her pulse. Vee’s thick, gloved fingers couldn’t even hold Angela’s hand.

“Charlotte, Charlotte,” murmured Adrian. “I’m so sorry. Just hang on, please hang on.”

Please hang on. I’m sorry. The first-aid kit was on the other side of the airlock. Who’d put a first-aid kit in here? No one would be in here without a suit on when the door was closed. That was nuts.

Nuts as it was, these people had no suits. There was no way to reach them. Angela was beginning to shake. Tears ran from her closed eyes.

Let her be unconscious. Let her not know this is happening to her.

Seconds crawled by. Vee’s gaze kept darting from her faceplate clock to Angela. Seconds, minutes, passing. Angela going from tremors, to jerks, to convulsions that kicked and battered Isaac Walters, who lay beside her, as well as Vee’s hardsuit. She faded back to jerks and then to tremors, leaving Vee drowning in fear that the next thing to happen would be that Angela’s muscles would go completely limp and her dead eyes would roll open.

But it didn’t happen. It should have. It should have happened moments after their casings cracked. It should have happened when their scarab crashed, but it didn’t. Angela, Isaac, Lindi, Charlotte, Dave the mission specialist, Chen the geologist, Arva the meteorologist, all held on for one more second, and one more, and one more after that.

After an eternity of one more second, Kevin’s voice echoed inside Vee’s helmet.

“Scarabs Eight and Ten are on the ground! They’re on their way. What’s your pressure and temp back there? Exactly.”

“We’re at the three point three atmospheres and fifty-two degrees Celsius,” answered Adrian. “Tell them to step on it!”

More waiting. Hang on Angela, oh, please, hang on.

Angela was barely even twitching now. Her fingers curled and opened slightly, almost as if they were being blown by a wind. Not much to indicate life. Not nearly enough. Vee laid her hand on Angela’s chest and tried to feel its rise and fall. Nothing. Nothing at all.

No. Please. You can’t die. You can’t die! Help’s on the way!

The scarab shuddered. Vee’s gaze jerked automatically to the door.

“We’ve got a docking seal with Scarab Eight,” said Kevin. “Just another second, they’ll have the door open.”

Vee’s heart hammered hard. Angela’s hand went still.

“No, no, no.” She grasped the woman’s forearm. “Come on! One more second! One more!”

The outer door hissed open and they faced an identical airlock and a pair of strangers in hardsuits surrounded by stretcher capsules.

“Mother Creation,” whispered one, even as he swung a capsule forward and lifted its lid.

They got Charlotte in, strapped her down, closed the lid, swung the capsule into the airlock, where another person waited to read her vital signs and give the capsule orders for treatment and maintenance. They swung down another capsule, this one for Lindi. Another for Dave.

Angela still wasn’t moving.

“They’re here, help’s here,” breathed Vee. She felt tears running down her cheeks. She barely knew this woman who was dying under her hand and Vee couldn’t even feel it and help was inches away and she couldn’t beg them to hurry because everyone else was as bad or worse and they were already moving as fast as they possible could.

A capsule shut Another swung into place.

“Okay, Dr. Hatch. We got her.”

The med techs lifted Angela away and slotted her into the stretcher capsule, strapped her down, slapped the monitor patches on her, and closed the lid. The capsule’s screens lit up instantly.

“Is she alive?” she croaked.

“Oh yeah,” said the med tech. “Mother Creation alone knows how, but they’re all still with us.”

Vee fell backwards and sideways and found herself leaning against Josh. He laid an arm around her shoulder. She couldn’t feel it, but she knew it was there.

Thank God, she thought, for the lives in the stretchers and the life next to her now. Thank God.