Chapter 11

At first, he was confused. He was so cold, he was unable to think clearly. Why can’t I slide across the ice anymore? This led him to ask himself, Why was I sliding across the ice in the first place? It didn’t come to him in a moment of clarity. It took nearly a minute before he was able to remember.

He stood up, slowly, and looked around. There, only several meters away, was the rappelling line. He walked over to it, his body aching from the movement, and took the end from under the rock he had secured it with. He tried to attach it to his suit, but his hands were shaking too hard. He’d have to warm up before he’d be able to do it.

He started walking around, away from the ice sheet, still holding on to the rappelling line. As painful as it was to use his muscles, it was getting some warmth to return to his body. And while his suit had used up most of its energy trying to keep him warm while he was laying on the field of ice, there was still some left. His head was foggy, but after a few minutes he remembered: he wanted to attach the line to his suit so he could tell the computer to pull him up. But he had no way to communicate with the computer. He’d have to climb.

It wasn’t too far up, but these were not ideal circumstances. He wasn’t sure how much strength he had left. He walked over to the rock face, looped the line around one foot a couple of times, and then put his other foot on top of the line. He reached up and pulled himself with his arms. Then he used the tension from the loop around one foot to push against the line with the other and move up about a half meter. He reached up with his arms again and repeated the maneuver. And again.

He was surprised. At first, he didn’t think he’d ever make it all the way to the top. But as he continued, it became easier; as he used his muscles, the warmth returned to them, and he was able to go faster. He was almost surprised at how quickly he approached the top.

Suddenly, a strong wave of dizziness took him, and he barely had enough power to keep from falling. He looped his arm around the line several times to secure himself. After resting for a minute, breathing slowly, he regained his balance. He checked his oxygen levels.

He had five minutes left.

He began to climb again, making sure his arm was fully looped around the line so he wouldn’t fall. He would have to go slowly and steadily; if he went too fast, he would get dizzy again. Even with his precautions, he found himself getting light-headed.

About five meters from the top he felt another wave of dizziness. He stopped and made himself breathe slowly, but it didn’t go away. There was nothing for it. He was going to have to climb the rest of the way in this state.

It seemed to take forever. He checked his oxygen levels three times, and was surprised at how little time had passed. But it was still slow-going. By the time his hand reached over the top of the cliff, his suit had only thirty seconds of breathable air remaining.

He pulled himself over the edge, and rolled over onto his back, allowing himself a single breath. Then he tried to get to his feet. He couldn’t. The vehicle was only fifteen meters away, so he began crawling. When he was almost there, an alarm went off inside his suit. He was out of oxygen.

He reached up and pulled the lever to open the door into the vehicle’s tiny airlock. When the door dutifully opened, he crawled inside and then closed it behind him. Now all he had to do was tell the computer to re-pressurize the airlock and remove his helmet. He opened his mouth and then froze in horror.

He could not communicate with the computer. His communications were out. He had made it all the way back to the vehicle and would die within it.

He tried to think, but whatever it was he was taking into his lungs now was not oxygen and he was unable to think clearly. When he tried to focus his mind, he'd start day-dreaming. Eventually, he would just day-dream his way into death. Will the dream continue? he asked. Will I notice if the day-dream stops? If I stop?

He thought again about Emma. How his love for her had changed him into a different person. Even though the computer would reproduce him as soon as it realized he had died, it would not be the same person. Help, he thought again. I need help.

He was unable to concentrate. He remembered his time with Emma at Roen. He remembered walking around outside the station in suits with her one time and how they touched helmets to talk. It was a very intimate act; since it didn’t take place over the communication bands, their conversation was completely private. He wished he could be there with her again. His faceplate touching hers and the vibrations produced by their voices being transferred from his suit to hers and vice-versa.

His eyes widened. He tried to think it through, but couldn’t. He had tunnel vision and was about to lose consciousness. There was only enough room in his mind for one thought. He rolled over and pressed his faceplate against the door leading to the main cabin of the vehicle. He took as deep a breath of the carbon dioxide that his suit had been filling with as he could without coughing and shouted.

“Computer! My communications are out! Re-pressurize the airlock immediately!”

He fell to the floor. He wanted to tell the computer to signal him somehow to let him know it had heard. Flash the lights or something. But he could no longer raise himself up. He would have to remove his helmet and hope that there was breathable air. With the last of his strength, he put his hands on either side of his helmet, pushed the release buttons on either side and twisted as hard as he could.

The seal broke and he pushed the helmet over his head. He inhaled and began coughing violently. His body began taking short, shallow breaths, and for a moment he thought the computer hadn’t heard. Then he realized his vision was clearing. His mind was clearing. He could breathe, he was going to live.

This time he didn’t pass out. But being as exhausted as he was, he decided to stay where he was and sleep for a bit.