Chapter Nine

Ludwig was jerked awake by their morning alarm. Stiff and sore from their recent ordeal, he forced himself to roll over to check if Djawadi had woken up. At least, that’s what he told himself he was doing. In truth, he was making sure his partner wasn’t standing over him again like he had been the night before. Thankfully, Djawadi was still asleep—or at least seemed to be.

In the morning hours, Ludwig found himself doubting what he had seen. Maybe he’d merely dreamed that Doctor Djawadi had been watching him while he slept. He craved the relief of dismissing it as a dream, only to have memories of their middle-of-the-night conversation flood back into his tired mind.

Only four days remained in their cohesion—one-hundred hours to be precise. Which would normally be a relief after weeks with Djawadi. But with so little time left, failure looming so precariously over them, and knowing that his cohesion partner was having murderous thoughts about him? Ludwig’s mind reeled. He couldn’t stop the growing dread.

Ludwig’s insides were as knotted as his sore muscles. He forced himself to think about anything else, even rolling over to grab one of their mission tablets and review the data their suits had been compiling over the past few days. Concentrating on the spreadsheets, however, with their complex data and detailed annotations, was far more difficult than it should have been. What he could glean from the data revealed little of note—at least for their current mission. He was surprised by how much the corrosive gases had actually impacted their suits’ internals, but that could be easily remedied with a deeper clean.

Maybe that’s what they would do today instead of leaving the pod, Ludwig decided—something to keep them busy, but still an easy enough day to allow them both to rest. It wasn’t visiting the surface, like Djawadi had hoped, but Ludwig worried if he brought him to the surface, he might not be able to get him back down into the caverns.

Four days left in the mission. Was it worth the risk giving up an entire day to rest? There was no good choice in Ludwig’s mind, but he knew they couldn’t keep going at their current pace—not after the ordeal of the past couple of days. It wasn’t ideal, but it was necessary. Besides, if there were going to be anymore dangerous actions from Djawadi, Ludwig wanted to be rested enough to handle them.

With the semblance of a plan in place, Ludwig forced himself to get up from his cot and gather the equipment needed to give his suit a deep clean. He moved around the habitation pod quietly, trying not to wake Djawadi—a realization that annoyed him. Why should he have to be quiet while his partner broke the rules? Why did he have to bend his will to give Djawadi the leniency his actions demanded? Yes, worrying about rule-breaking after the night they’d just endured, not to mention the past few grueling days, felt foolish. But Ludwig was angry—angry at Djawadi for being so difficult and angry at himself for being forced to deal with it alone. Even if it seemed unwise to deny his partner more sleep, the rules keep us safe. Their mission was already in danger, striving for exact obedience would only help them accomplish their objectives.

Deciding to clean his suit in the airlock to easily flush out any fumes from the cleaning supplies, Ludwig let his helmet clang against the airlock’s metal frame. The sound wasn’t as loud as he’d hoped, but it was still satisfying to think it might disturb Djawadi’s sleep. It was petty, but mixed with the fear, dread, anger, and everything else he felt, Ludwig felt like being petty. With his suit and supplies in the airlock, he closed the door and got to work.

Cleaning his suit had thankfully turned out to be a therapeutic task. Enough grime had built up that scrubbing it away felt satisfying. Beginning to perspire from the work, he decided to grab a rag to wipe the sweat off. When he opened the airlock door, he saw Djawadi awake, sitting on the edge of his cot. Ludwig frowned—he couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw Djawadi quickly hide something under his blanket as he came in. The motion was smooth enough that Ludwig, still feeling punchy from exhaustion, wondered if he was imagining things.

“How are you feeling?” Ludwig asked, the question feeling hollow even as he said it. It was hard to feel empathy for someone he feared might kill him.

“Like I got hit by a truck,” Djawadi responded.

Ludwig nodded. “Honestly, I think we might have fared better if that’s what happened.”

Djawadi chuckled.

The awkwardness in the pod was palpable.

Djawadi suddenly stood up, causing Ludwig to flinch. He hadn’t meant to and felt foolish for it, but it was a reflex. Djawadi noticed, responding with a strange look in his eyes that Ludwig couldn’t decipher.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Djawadi asked.

“No agenda,” Ludwig replied. “I’m cleaning my suit; there’s a lot of gunk built up that could start impacting performance. You’re welcome to join me, but I can also clean yours if you’d rather try to get more sleep.” Which was a lie, Ludwig realized, as he only offered to clean his partner’s suit in the hope of spending more time away from him.

“I’ll clean my own suit,” Djawadi said quickly. “I mean, I’ll join you. Though, I’m definitely going to want to sleep more later.”

A few hours later, they were both sitting on the floor of the airlock, cleaning their suits. At first, they worked in silence, but the awkwardness grew painful enough that, despite the undeniable tension, Djawadi began telling stories of memorable times in the Cohesion Training Center. It was a neutral enough topic for both to engage with, though Ludwig didn’t feel like sharing. Even Djawadi’s rowdier stories, the kind that should have elicited laughter, brought only an awkwardly forced smile and a few well-placed chuckles from Ludwig.

The current story Djawadi was telling was a doozy—filled with a disregard for the rules that Ludwig, despite himself, now found he envied. Despite the rule breaking, Djawadi’s stories were full of fun and genuine bonding between him and his training group. In contrast, Ludwig’s own stories would have been retellings of events involving his past partners. Sure, everyone had crazy tales from the CTC, but Ludwig felt ashamed of how few he had. And that shame only made him angrier at Djawadi.

Ludwig wondered if he’d had any real fun in the decade and a half since joining the CS4. Sure, training hard and earning a spot on the first manned ship to Trappist 1d was thrilling, but he couldn’t honestly call it fun. He’d always taken pride in his adherence to the rules, but looking back, his penchant for lecturing others in training groups was probably why he hadn’t been invited to many parties. Even when he befriended other rule-abiding scientists, they were often so dull that forging genuine connections felt impossible.

“Hey, do you have any more contact cleaner?” Djawadi asked. “This circuit is all gunked up, and I’ve run out.”

Ludwig shook his bottle, hearing the marble bounce inside without resistance. “I’m out too,” he said. “Here, I’ll grab some.”

“Nah, I can do it.”

Ludwig shook his head. “I was going to grab a protein bar anyway.”

“Oh, could you grab me one too?”

“Sure, any preference?” Ludwig asked.

Djawadi shook his head. “Unless we only have marshmallow left. That one is gross.”

“Gross? It’s way better than the banana ones you love,” Ludwig said. “They don’t even taste like real banana.”

“Oh, fancy earthling over here has had a real banana before,” Djawadi joked.

The joke earned a genuine reaction from Ludwig, though it was little more than a sharp exhale through his nose. He shook his head as the airlock door closed behind him, and with it, the small bit of mirth the joke had elicited.

Alone in the pod, his gaze went right to Djawadi’s cot where he thought he’d seen him hide something earlier. Ludwig hadn’t planned on doing this, but he didn’t hesitate either, wanting to see if he’d imagined things. When he reached the cot, he lifted the edge of the blanket.

Nothing.

His shoulders slumped as he tried to decide if he felt relieved or just foolish. Shaking his head, Ludwig put the blanket back down and turned to the real reason he’d come inside: grabbing an extra can of contact cleaner from their supplies.

When Ludwig grabbed a couple of protein bars, he noticed they were running low on everything except the marshmallow flavor. He shrugged, puzzled by its unpopularity—sure, it was a little gummier than the others, but it really did taste like marshmallow, and that reminded him of home. There were still a few banana-flavored ones, as well as peanut butter and cookies and cream. The dark chocolate and strawberry cheesecake flavors were completely gone, which didn’t surprise him; those were always the most coveted. He grabbed a banana-flavored bar for Djawadi and closed the container.

Ludwig was about to head back to the airlock when he hesitated, glancing back at Djawadi’s cot. He considered ignoring his worries—after all, he really didn’t want what he thought he’d seen to be true. But the nagging feeling persisted. Deciding it was better to satisfy his curiosity than let it fester, Ludwig walked over to the cot and lifted his partner’s pillow. Beneath it lay three of their utility knives, neatly arranged in a row.

He spent several moments staring at the knives, a rational part of his mind struggling to understand why his partner would store them under his pillow. It felt surreal, trying to conjure logical explanations that didn’t involve the obvious, violent implications. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find a good reason for Djawadi to hide the knives there.

Finally, Ludwig took a deep breath. Part of him debated whether he should confront Djawadi about this. Another, more impulsive part briefly considered taking one of the knives, just to mess with him. But he dismissed the idea, knowing it would absolutely provoke a reaction. Instead, Ludwig resolved to try and ignore the discovery, convincing himself he was being paranoid. Pretending none of Djawadi’s recent, unsettling behaviors were cause for concern felt easier—besides, what could Ludwig even do about them? They were alone, in a high-stakes mission, with the survival of the colony hanging in the balance.

Ludwig didn’t want to ignore this, but he couldn’t see any other option. Confronting Djawadi would likely spark another fight—a fight with a man who had been standing over him while he slept and hiding utility knives under his pillow. And if that fight ended with one of them incapacitated, it would doom the colony and everyone in it. For the mission’s sake, Ludwig decided to let it go. At least for now.

When Ludwig reentered the airlock, he tossed Djawadi the banana protein bar and the contact cleaner.

“What took you so long?” Djawadi asked.

“I was going to play a prank by hiding all the protein bars that weren’t marshmallow, but decided it wasn’t very funny and put them all back.” Ludwig was surprised at how smoothly the lie came out. It felt as natural as the judgment he’d often directed at Djawadi for breaking the rules.

“Not a very funny joke,” Djawadi said flatly.

Ludwig nodded in agreement, tearing open his marshmallow-flavored protein bar, eager to set the matter aside.

They were still cleaning their suits when Ludwig started getting a headache from the contact cleaner fumes. Using the airlock had seemed like a good idea since they could flush the fumes, but he didn’t want to activate the venting while they were inside without their suits. The only way to ventilate the space would be to prop open the interior door—something it wasn’t designed to do. The airlock doors were programmed to close automatically after allowing just enough time to enter or exit, and the ventilation system didn’t have a manual override. That left only one option: a hardware solution. He was an engineer, after all.

Ludwig examined the airlock machinery and chuckled, surprised at how quickly he spotted a potential workaround. All it required was inserting a small metal pin into one of the hydraulic presses controlling the door, preventing it from closing automatically. These simple hydraulic presses hadn’t changed much in the past two centuries. The pin insertion area was originally designed as a safety feature for operating heavy machinery that relied on similar hydraulic presses—he figured if he disassembled one of their excavators, he’d find an identical press with the same safeguard.

It didn’t take long to find a steel pin of the appropriate size in their hardware storage. He inserted it as he opened the door, and it slid in smoothly, though a bit snug. With the door successfully propped open, Ludwig felt a small surge of pride as he returned to cleaning his suit. He glanced at Djawadi, half-expecting some acknowledgment of his ingenuity, but none came.

Less than a minute later, loud emergency alarms suddenly blared in their pod, causing both of them to clamp their hands over their ears. The interior lights were flashing red and white. Ludwig immediately stood up to pull the metal pin out from where he’d placed it. But it wouldn’t come out. He frowned, pulling harder, but couldn’t get a good grip.

“What did you do?” Djawadi shouted, his voice barely audible over the blaring alarm.

Ludwig ignored him, his mind racing. He didn’t know exactly what was happening, but it had to be related to forcing the door open. “Pull up the alarm on your pad!” he barked at Djawadi. “Error code two-four-seven dash four-two.”

Djawadi quickly activated the small wrist pad on his suit and began scrolling through the alarm log’s details. Meanwhile, Ludwig grabbed a pair of pliers and clamped them around the stubborn pin, determined to wrench it free.

Djawadi said something Ludwig couldn’t hear over the relentless alarm.

“What?” Ludwig yelled back.

“Airlock software is rebooting,” Djawadi shouted.

“And?” Ludwig pressed, his voice tight with urgency.

“That means it’ll force a hardware check!”

Shit. A hardware check meant testing the door’s opening and closing mechanisms. Both door’s opening and closing mechanisms. This just got dangerous.

The interior airlock door jerked into motion, attempting to force itself closed. The airlock machinery groaned under the strain, grinding violently until a deafening bang echoed through the pod, emanating from somewhere Ludwig couldn’t see.

The interior door tried again, causing another loud bang.

“Prepare for depressurization!” He called out to his partner. The proper protocols for a situation like this were flashing through Ludwig’s mind while he rocked the metal pin back and forth with his pliers.

In case of airlock emergency . . .

The alarms blared, red lights casting frantic shadows across the pod.

. . . One partner will retrieve the emergency FLUX masks . . .

Ludwig pulled with all his strength, his hands trembling so much that the pliers slipped off the end of the pin.

. . . FLUX masks can be found in the red hazard bin every venturing cohesion receives at the start of their transfer . . .

Jaw clenched, Ludwig repositioned the pliers, gripping the handles with all his might.

. . . Every cohesion partnership must visually inspect their red hazard bins at the start of their transfer to ensure all inventory is in place . . .

The pin finally budged from Ludwig’s efforts, though it was still stuck.

. . . If one in the cohesion is incapacitated, the conscious individual places their own FLUX mask on first before attempting to place their partner’s . . .

Ludwig’s thoughts raced. Could he attempt a system override? No—the reboot was already underway, and he didn’t have the software knowledge required to bypass it now.

He turned to Djawadi, fear coursing through him. After surviving everything else, could this really be the end—killed by a malfunction?

Before he could dwell further, Djawadi lunged at him. Ludwig barely had time to gasp before his partner grabbed the pliers alongside him and yanked with all his might.

For a moment, Ludwig thought the pliers had slipped again. The force of their combined effort sent them both tumbling to the ground. But then Ludwig saw it—the pin firmly clutched in the grip of the pliers.

“Get inside!” Ludwig yelled.

They both dove from the airlock into the pod as the interior door began to move. It shuddered violently as it closed, the strained machinery groaning with every inch. All they could do now was watch in helpless agony, hoping that the interior door would seal before the exterior door’s hardware cycle kicked in.

With only inches left to close, the exterior door began to open. A deafening roar filled the air as the pressure difference yanked at them, and Ludwig felt as though his eardrums might burst.

Then, mercifully, the interior door sealed with a final shudder, cutting off the chaos before any true damage could occur.

“Fucking hell,” Djawadi said, still catching his breath. “Let’s not do that again.”

Ludwig nodded in agreement, but made a mental note to report this to headquarters— another hazard born from a software process the mission designers hadn’t fully accounted for. Sure, he’d been the one to tamper with the hydraulic hardware, triggering the system reboot, but the lack of an emergency override to prevent doors from opening felt like an oversight worth addressing.

Shaking his head, Ludwig added yet another item to the growing list of software fixes he’d submit after the mission. For now, he decided to have the computer help him generate code that would bypass the airlock software entirely. It meant they’d have to manually open and close the doors and handle pressurization cycles themselves, but it felt like the safest option under the circumstances.

He shook his head. Ludwig would have quite the list of software update requests to submit when this mission was over. Instead, he asked the computer to help him write some code to bypass the airlock software altogether. Yes, it would mean they’d need to open and close the airlock doors manually, as well as manually start the pressurization cycles that would protect them, but it felt safer to Ludwig this way.

Despite the relief of narrowly avoiding disaster, Ludwig couldn’t shake how foolish felt. He knew this had been his fault, after all. He should have known better than to tamper with the airlock’s machinery. Just because he was an engineer didn’t mean he was a software expert. He could disassemble and reassemble the airlock if necessary, but rewriting its software was far beyond his expertise.

After they finished cleaning their suits, the rest of the day was devoted to small tasks around the pod: inventorying medications and emergency supplies, double-checking the path to Site Alpha for unexpected obstacles like those they’d encountered on the way to Beta Site, and, of course, resting.

Despite his exhaustion, Ludwig didn’t sleep well that night. He woke up every hour, his mind spinning with the unsettling sense that something was wrong. When he did manage to sleep, his dreams were plagued by stress and shadowy silhouettes stalking him. His sleeping pills were available to him, but he dismissed the idea of taking them. Those pills always knocked him into a deep, dreamless slumber every time he took them, but something primal within him knew to avoid sleeping too deeply with Djawadi around.

Apart from the low hum of the life support systems, Djawadi’s muttering was the only sound breaking the pod’s silence. Lying there on his cot, struggling to sleep, Ludwig found himself drawn to the strange murmurings of his companion. 

This far into the middle of the night seemed to pull his mind closer to the void—it was hard not to be drawn in, trying to discern recognizable words or meaning. But as far as he could tell, there was none. Ludwig reassured himself that it was just Djawadi’s body in deep sleep, firing random pathways in his subconscious—a meaningless jumble of sounds shaped by the stress of their mission.

Then Ludwig heard his name.

The muttering continued, and he strained to listen more intently. Was Djawadi’s tone more intense now? Or was Ludwig imagining it? No, it was definitely more intense—almost as if Djawadi was arguing with someone in his ramblings. Paranoia crept over Ludwig, the familiar dread tightening in his gut yet again. Something was clearly wrong, but he had no idea how to fix it.

He heard his name again.

Without thinking, he answered. “Yeah?” His voice barely a whisper.

There was no response, though the muttering stopped. Feeling uneasy, Ludwig turned onto his other side so his back was no longer to his partner.

After being in and out of sleep for the rest of the night, Ludwig admitted defeat an hour before their normal wake up time. A part of him wanted to get up and busy himself with work around the pod, creating a disturbance that might interrupt Djawadi’s sleep. After all, wasn’t his own sleeplessness caused by Djawadi?

In the end, he decided against it, remaining in his cot, staring up at the ceiling of their habitation pod.