Macao Station

Chapter Thirty-Seven

When Lina and Marco neared the dorms, Theo came rushing up to meet them, wearing his black combat armour.

‘Come on!’ he yelled, beckoning them to hurry up. ‘We’re waiting for you! Everyone’s waiting. Halman’s in a right state!’

Lina looked down at Marco, who grinned back up at her. That grin looked a little flaky round the edges, but she was glad to see it nonetheless. ‘Uh-oh,’ she said, breaking into a trot.

Marco didn’t reply and they ran after Theo, who led them back towards Halman’s office and the dormitories, stopping occasionally to hurry them along. They passed through the first corridor — which had been checked for air-tightness and would form a makeshift airlock — and into their own corridor, the one that connected all the dorms and Halman’s office.

When they emerged into their little refugee camp, a sea of irate and fearful faces was staring back at them. It seemed that everyone was here, waiting, much as Theo had promised.

‘Where the fuck have you been?’ demanded Halman. He noticed Marco — a minor for whom he was technically at least partly responsible — and corrected this to, ‘I mean where the hell have you been?’ He stood a clear head above most of the crowd, a scowling monolith of a creature.

Lina was glad to see him, although she supposed she was in trouble. She couldn’t help grinning at him as she forced her way through the throng towards him, dragging Marco by the hand. ‘Hi, Dan,’ she called out, embarrassed.

As she stopped in front of him, Halman seemed to melt. He smiled, too, and leant down to speak to Marco. ‘You managed to get her back in time, then, kiddo. Just about. I’m glad someone sensible’s keeping an eye on her.’

Marco grinned up at him. Halman looked big enough to eat the boy whole. ‘Yes, Sir,’ he agreed. ‘Somebody has to.’

Lina, amazed at his cheek (after all, she had gone after him), shoved him on one shoulder, making him stagger. ‘Kids today!’ she exclaimed with mock despair, throwing her hands up. ‘Go and see Clay, Son,’ she ordered. He ran off dutifully enough. She turned to Halman. ‘Sorry, Boss,’ she said more seriously. ‘Thanks for waiting.’ She was aware that a fair number of people were unabashedly listening in.

‘Well you didn’t leave me much bloody choice, did you,’ Halman retorted, but he didn’t sound too angry. He lifted his chin and addressed the crowd more generally: ‘Somebody get Alphe! Tell him it’s time to go!’

The word went round, rippling back down the darkened corridor. The crowd parted in such a cinematic way that it could have been choreographed and Alphe, in the station’s standard-issue white space suit, appeared at the far end of the group. He moved down the gangway they had made for him, being slapped on the back as he passed. Lina was reminded of early footage of olden-day space pioneers leaving on the first terraforming missions — people who had been celebrities in their day. A few people shouted out encouraging slogans. Alphe’s suit-light sliced from left to right as he turned this way and that, acknowledging various people.

He stopped before Lina, holding a large toolbox in one hand, and gave her an embarrassed smile. He turned to Halman and said, ‘I guess I’m ready, then.’

‘Good man,’ Halman replied, arms folded across his chest. ‘You sure you don’t want someone with you?’

Alphe looked like he was genuinely considering this for a moment, then he said, ‘No, thanks. It should be easy. I won’t be long. I’m hoping to get some sleep myself soon.’ A chant had gone up behind him now — Alphe! Alphe! Alphe! — and he rolled his eyes, set his face and made his way heavily to the door which would soon become the inner skin of an airlock. He turned once more, waved to the crowd, then cranked the handle to open the door. It seemed to take a long time, and he waited for it to be fully open before stepping through. Just as slowly, the door inched down behind him. The chanting died away, leaving an awkward silence behind it. People milled around, some of them starting to dribble away back to the dorms. It was late. They were tired. And they were facing their first night as refugees within the walls of their own home.

‘Is he killing the hangar as well?’ Lina asked Halman.

‘Yeah,’ said Halman. ‘He’s killing the emergency power and drawing the air out of everywhere except here and the prison. Tomorrow morning, when you go with them to sort the Kays out, we’ll re-power the hangar. You won’t get air down there, though. It’ll be suit-work, I’m afraid.’

Lina thought about this, biting her bottom lip. She had temporarily forgotten that tomorrow, if all went to plan, she was going to enter the shuttle through a hole in its hull. And if Eli objected, she supposed she would have to shoot him. She honestly wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She only knew that she’d have to succeed. What she’d told Marco was the truth — she had to at least try.

‘I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ she said.

But she must have failed to hit the right confident tone, because Halman leant down to her level and said, ‘Lina, it will be fine. You should get some sleep. Alphe is gonna be a while, whatever he says. I want you fresh tomorrow. You’ll go after breakfast — you, Alphe, Fionne and Liu. You’ll sort the cutting discs out, full pre-flight, then you and Ella will go across. Okay?’

Lina couldn’t determine if that was okay or not. She had never really liked to think about things too much in advance. She preferred just to do them when the time was right.

‘I think I will go and get some sleep,’ she said.

Halman nodded, his lips stretched into a smile, and he half-turned to go, then stopped himself. ‘And by the way,’ he added, ‘there’s gonna be someone posted at the airlock from now on and the other exit from this corridor is welded shut. But even so, keep an eye on that boy of yours, will you?’

‘I will,’ she said, a little defensively. And then she added, ‘I only went to get our bags.’

Halman turned his smile up a notch without replying, then he strolled back towards his office, whistling. The sound was gratingly at odds with the bleakness of their situation. The corridor pulsed redly as the last stragglers wandered away. This was now their world.