OBSIDIAN SKY

The moment his helmet was off, Mary Ann laid into him.
   “What the hell were you thinking?”
   “You said I had plenty of oxygen. I could see the samples right there and—”
   “Doesn’t matter! I am your mission commander. When I tell you to go back to the airlock, you get your ass back to the airlock. Or I’ll see to it that you never fly in space again.”
   She thought that would be it, but Marc’s response surprised her. As a commander of a Hornet squadron in the navy, she had yelled at junior sailors before—tough sailors who had been through boot camp and faced daily harassment by a chief far more intimidating than her. On the rare occasion she had to pull rank, they would always fold like a lawn chair. Now, as she looked into Marc’s eyes, a quiet defiance stared back in them that made her uneasy. The confidence they showed didn’t match the academic she had made him out to be. 
   But his voice remained calm. “I didn’t want to let my team down. Any one of them could have flown this mission, but they chose me. If I didn’t get that sample, we wouldn’t have had another chance before we undock. All of their work would have been lost because of me.”
   His demeanor was steady and self-assured, which enraged Mary Ann even further. She didn’t notice Antonio Ramirez-Gomez, an ESA reserve astronaut and the crew’s pilot, trying to get her attention from the hatchway. 
   “Mary Ann . . .”
   “What about our team? You’re willing to put this crew in danger for a little science experiment?”
   “Mary Ann . . .”
   “I didn’t know about the conjunction. Antonio didn’t bring that up until after you turned off your suit and I lost comms.”
   “Mary Ann.”
   “And do you remember what the last thing I said to you was before—”
   “Mary Ann!”
   “What?”
   “We’re running out of time. We have a red conjunction in less than an hour. We need you for the debris-avoidance maneuver.”
   Mary Ann sighed. “Finish getting out of the suit and prepare the crew vehicle in case we need to take refuge. We’ll talk about this later. Antonio, let’s go.”
   She floated past Antonio and Dr. Clay Anderson, the medical officer, and made her way to the control console to prepare for the burn. 
   Debris-avoidance maneuvers were becoming an almost weekly part of life in low earth orbit. The acceleration of satellite launches in the late 2020s left little real estate above the planet to orbit unmolested. The routine engine burn Mary Ann prepared would raise Juno Station’s orbit just five miles to ensure safe clearance with a Chinese Earth observation satellite that would soon be crossing their current path. 
   Just another day on orbit.

Marc Meyers slid his way out of the back of his EVA suit and doffed the white liquid cooling undergarment he wore underneath. The spacewalk had shaken him, but it was not the first time he’d faced the possibility of death. By now, he was more annoyed by his commander’s reaction.
   He untethered the sample carrier from the suit and tucked it away in the freezer, alongside a rack of their blood samples for Dr. Anderson’s DNA experiment and a package of Fudgecicles. The next day, all of their research would return on a cargo vehicle that would deliver them fresh food and supplies for the next series of experiments. The return of the samples, at least, was still on track.
   “I just don’t understand,” Anderson said, anchoring himself behind Marc. “If you’re looking for a publication, there are much easier ways than risking your life in space. What is so important about this research?”
   Marc turned around and recited the same canned speech he’d memorized. “Understanding whether microorganisms from Earth can survive in the vacuum of space will help us to decide how, when we go to Mars, we can differentiate between life we’ve found and life we’ve brought with us.” 
   “Yes, but your experiment isn’t even novel. NASA has done these experiments before, on the ISS. So has Roscosmos.”
   “These are different organisms,” he countered. “Maybe this will react differently.”
“But what does that matter? The previous experiments proved that life could survive. The fundamental question has already been answered.”
   Marc tensed. He could feel the interrogation reaching the limits of the answers he could provide. 
   “For example, take my research. I’ve collected samples of our human cells which are being exposed to cosmic irradiation as we speak. If the novel intervention I have introduced produces the damage-suppressing protein that successfully eliminates genetic mutation, the cancer-causing effects of cosmic radiation will be mitigated. This discovery will enable long-term human exploration into deep space. It would be one of the most impactful discoveries of our time! And yet I would not die to save it. Just what is it that could be so important about your research?”
   The details of the doctor’s DNA experiment didn’t need rehashing. The scientific media had been clamoring over the microorganisms experiment, and Marc knew that Dr. Anderson was bothered by being left out of the spotlight. He took every opportunity to assert the superior scientific validity of his own research. 
   “Look, I’m not the principal investigator,” Marc said. “If you have questions about the value of our experiment, I suggest you ask him.”
   “Ask him? You were willing to risk your life for this experiment, and you’re telling me you don’t fully understand it?”
   Marc’s heart was racing. He was cornered. 
   “There is something you are not telling us, Marc. I’ve sensed it since we began training, months ago. You’ve been keeping a secret, and today it has endangered us all. You aren’t who you say you are . . . are you?”
   Just then, Mary Ann’s voice sounded on the intercom. “One minute to burn. Make your way to the reentry vehicle for the conjunction window ASAP.”
   Marc let out a breath, grateful for the interruption. “This is insane. We need to get moving.”