Chapter 11 · Don't Open That Airlock

They're fitting me for a suit when I figure out what's happening.

Ivo's got the torso piece hovering over my head. Briar's two meters back with her hand on her sidearm. Vey's standing in the airlock antechamber doorway like he's watching cargo get prepped.

"Wait." I step back. The suit torso swings on its frame. "You're sending me outside?"

"Fuel depot's forty meters off our bow," Vey says. "Beacon Lattice used keyed personnel for external dock authentication. You've got the implants. You go out, you dock us, we pump and go."

My mouth goes dry. "I can't breathe vacuum."

"Suit's rated for four hours." Ivo taps the chestplate. "Lattice-era. Good seals."

I look at Briar. She's not moving.

"You said you'd trade me." My voice cracks. "You didn't say you'd space me."

Vey shrugs. "Trade implies you come back. This way you're useful first."

Briar's hand closes around her grip.

"How do you even know the depot works?" I'm backing toward the bulkhead. "It's been dormant for how long?"

"Ivo scanned it." Vey's calm. Too calm. "Systems are hot. Waiting for a living key."

I feel the cold wall through my thin shipboard jacket. "And if I don't dock right?