The flight controller replied back with a copy of his transmission. “Proceed to escape pods and advise of jettison.”
Swift’s gaze moved to a flashing red warning, and he inhaled sharply. “Negative. Escape pods have been jettisoned. I repeat. Escape pods have been jettisoned.”
“Understood. Advise emergency jump procedures must be followed. Suggest choosing exit over water if possible. Activate rescue beacons before leaving the ship.”
“Swift?” Orion’s voice broke across the radio. “How much time do you have? We have not read your flight’s navigational information.”
“Unsure, sir.” Swift glanced at the navigational screen and then at the altimeter and speed. He quickly did the math, and his stomach churned. “Seven minutes at most.”
“Understood,” Orion replied. “Swift, good luck.”
“Thank you, sir.” Swift ended the transmission and turned toward Alys who had gone pale. There were two shiny streams of tears down her cheeks, and his heart broke at the utter fear in her eyes. “Alys, darlin’, it’s going to be okay.”
“How?” she asked, her voice shaking. “We’re going to crash!”
“No.” He cupped her face and held her gaze. “The ship is going to crash. We’re going to jump.”
She gasped. “Jump? From all the way up here?” She furiously shook her head. “No! No!”
“Yes.” He used the commanding voice that he usually reserved for their more intimate moments. It worked. She stopped panicking and focused on his face. “We are going to jump together. We’re going to land together. We’re going to survive—.”
“Together,” she said, finishing his thought.
“Together,” he echoed. Concerned the ship’s life support systems would fail at any moment, he led her out of the cockpit and down a corridor toward the rear of the vessel. Whether the ship’s escape pods had been jettisoned empty by the sabotage malware or whether they had been jettisoned with a passenger—the engineer they hadn’t yet come across—he couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter at that moment. All that mattered was getting Alys into a jumpsuit and out of the ship as quickly as possible.
“Life systems warning. Failure imminent. Three minutes and one second remaining.” The ship’s automated communication called out over the speakers. “Abandon ship. Abandon ship.”
“We’re trying,” he grumbled and ran faster, tugging Alys along behind him. “Stand here,” he instructed when they reached the evacuation section. “Don’t move.”
He quickly snatched two of the pressurized jumpsuits and hopped into his first, leaving off the helmet. He beckoned Alys to lift one leg and then the other. Her dress ended up rucked around her hips, but there was no use for modesty now. She slipped her arms into the sleeves and held them out to her sides while he zipped and latched the suit.
Above them, the ship’s emergency communicator began to read out the ship’s failing systems. “Two minutes of life support remaining. Abandon ship. Abandon ship. Abandon ship.”
“Listen to me,” Swift ordered. “Once this helmet locks into place, the oxygen tank on the back of the suit will activate. You’ll feel a little lightheaded for a few seconds before you receive fully oxygenated air. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she replied shakily.
“The suit is going to feel like it’s squeezing you. That’s normal. When we jump, you’re going to panic. That’s also normal. You have to breathe through it, Alys. Look at me.” He deepened his voice and spoke roughly to get her attention. “You have to breathe, Alys. Breathe.”
“Breathe,” she repeated. “I have to breathe.”
“It’s okay to be scared. I’m scared.” He grasped her face and kissed her. “We’re going to be okay. You and me and the babies.”
“Swift,” she said pleadingly. “I don’t want to die.”
“You’re not going to die.” He kissed her again, terrified it might be the last time. “I love you, Alys.”
“I love you, Swift.”
The ship’s emergency communications continued, this time warning that all systems would be shutting down in ninety seconds. That meant the escape hatch would lose power as well. That meant they had to jump soon, even if they were still too high.
Swift hurriedly fastened Alys’ helmet into place and checked the lock three times. He watched her face through the visor and saw the panic in her eyes when she couldn’t breathe. A moment later, she got the first breath of air from the suit’s ventilation. Certain she would be all right, he fastened his suit and fixed his helmet into place.
“Alys! Look at me!” Once he had her attention, he said, “When you hit the air, spread out your arms and legs like this.” He showed her the right way. “You’re going to fall, and it’s going to feel like it’s taking forever. That’s normal. Remember what I said about breathing through it. The suit will deploy your parachute when it’s time. You don’t have to do anything but breathe.”
He turned away from her to access the escape hatch button. It was behind a locked cover that took a few seconds to open. He slammed his fist against the button—and nothing happened. He tried again and again. All of the lights on the ship went dark. It was suddenly eerily quiet.
The ship was dead.
Shit.
He crouched down to access the manual hatch lever and furiously cranked it. The hatch began to open, but it was painfully slow. The seconds stretched on until he was certain he had been cranking for a minute or more. The hatch opened wider and wider until it was fully open.
By now, the ship had started to vibrate wildly. The metal whined and popped. In the distance, there was a sickening crunch of panels. The ship was going to lose integrity and break up soon. If they didn’t jump now, they would be right in the cloud of wreckage.
“Alys, it’s time.” He rose to his full height. “Alys?”
She shook her head and made a shrugging motion. She couldn’t hear him. The radio communication between their two suits wasn’t working, and there was no time to troubleshoot.
Holding her gaze, he said, “I love you, Alys.”
And then he pushed her out of the ship.
The sight of her terrified face would haunt him until his dying day. Eyes wide, mouth open in a scream, she tumbled out of the ship and into the dark night sky.
He jumped a few seconds after her and was momentarily confused by the darkness. They had left mid-afternoon from the outpost. He expected sunshine or at least the last rays of sunset. Finally, he realized they were on the other side of the planet, experiencing the darkness before dawn.
The stark whiteness of Alys’ suit glowed in the near distance. There were flashing green lights on her limbs, and he realized she was flailing and panicking as she fell. He couldn’t be angry with her for not following his instructions to stretch out her limbs. She was having a normal human response, and she needed him to save her.
Swift zeroed in on the flashing green lights. Angling his body like a missile, he streaked across the sky to catch her. The training from his dozens of high-altitude jumps kicked in, and he straightened his legs, pulling his arms in tight to make himself smaller and sharper. Alys loomed bigger and bigger as he zoomed across the sky, and finally, he caught her.