Hugh Howey - Molly Fyde and the Parsona Rescue

She opened the outer door from inside the airlock, watching the air between the two crafts mix. Anlyn pushed away from the comfort of gravity to join her. One of her small, translucent hands worked into Molly’s padded flight gloves. Together, they floated toward the staterooms, pulling along at the recessed holds in the floor.

Molly opened Edison’s door first and Anlyn helped her remove the restraints from the frightened and confused Glemot. He asked them a confusing stream of questions and fumbled in the odd state of atmosphere and weightlessness. Molly left Anlyn to try and soothe the bristling bear with her soft, angelic voice. Two aliens, polar opposites and each rarely seen by any other race, tried to comfort one another. They were already at the back of Molly’s mind as she pushed off toward the room across the hall.

She punched in the code to unlock Cole’s room. Tears of worry were already floating out of her eyes and through the weightless air. It seemed to take forever for the thing to hiss open. When it did, their eyes met and Cole mouthed her name. She pushed off the jamb, rushing toward him and wrapping him in her arms, his own still tied behind his back.

“I’m so sorry, Cole. I’m so sorry.” She held each side of his face with her hands and kissed his forehead. She apologized again and again through her tears and the wetness she left on his skin.

“It’s okay,” he told her. “It’s okay.” He tilted his head back to look up at her. “Gods, I’m glad you’re all right. Stop apologizing, okay? I forgive you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m doing everything wrong,” she sputtered. “Everything I try to fix, I make it worse. It makes me not want to try anymore.”

“Untie my hands, Molly.”

“See?” she blubbered, wiping the tears off her face. “I can’t even rescue you right.” She tried to laugh but it came out as sobs.

As soon as Cole’s hands came free, he reached up and held her face, one hand cupping each cheek. Molly released her hold of the ship and she floated in space, held only by his embrace.

They looked at each other for what seemed an eternity. Cole’s face had a blank serenity Molly had never seen before. The tension that lived eternally in his brow, either from worry or deep thought, had disappeared. His mouth exuded happiness without smiling. Molly thought he’d never looked so gorgeous, so desirable, and so much like what she always pictured was beneath his mirrored visor.

“You make everything better , Molly Fyde.”

She started crying and tried to shake her head. In the absence of gravity, it just set the couple spinning.

“You do. You just don’t see it. You’re like that damn simulator, taking points from yourself whenever you do something brave. Look at how many times you’ve rescued me. On Palan. Here. You’re the bravest, most incredible person I know.”

Molly parted her lips to argue—and he kissed her. Pressed his lips to hers. They held each other like that for a moment. Molly felt her worry and pain drifting out, sliding through every tingling pore of her being.

Cole pulled back and flashed her a mesmerizing grin. “I’m sorry, were you about to say something?”

Molly glanced up. She had been on the verge of correcting him about something. What was it?

“Oh, yeah,” she said. “Technically… I saved your ass twice on Palan.”

Cole tried to laugh.

But Molly interrupted him.

Outside, two ships drifted. Locked together and sharing an atmosphere. They orbited each other around a common center, spinning in the absence of gravity.

The Navy Inspection shuttle broke away from another ship as a ring of crystallized atmosphere puffed from its airlock coupling. The vessel floated down the line of crafts awaiting clearance and locked up with the cargo ship directly ahead of them. Molly and Cole fidgeted in Lady Liberty’s cockpit while they waited their turn. In the distance, ships alternated between disappearing and reappearing in Canopus’s L1, a major hub for hyperspace travel. An old Orbital Station loomed nearby with several large Navy frigates and two cruisers attached to its military wharf. Commercial and private yachts intermingled while the frame of a new Orbital Station took shape not far away.

After the ship ahead of them cleared, their forged documents would receive their first test.

“What’s the plan if the IDs don’t work?” Cole asked.

Molly focused on the Inspection shuttle ahead of them. “We’ll find out soon enough,” she said.

“You’re too trusting.”

Molly assumed he referred to Earnie, the Darrin I scoundrel they’d worked with to secure IDs for themselves and Albert’s ship. “I’m sure he did his best work,” she said. “I sure would’ve, what with a Glemot and a Drenard around.”

Cole jerked his head to the cargo cam. “I meant him. ”

Molly looked at her own screen, which showed Walter bent over his videogame. “We both agreed it was my call,” she said.

“Yeah, I agreed it was your call, but I never agreed to agree with it. I’d airlock him right now, but it’d probably create paperwork with the inspectors.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Yes, it is.”

Molly giggled. “Okay, it’s a tad humorous. But give me some time to prove you wrong. You didn’t see him afterward, once he saw the consequences.”

“Whatever. All I know is having him double-check Earnie’s work on the documents is like trying to put out a fire with some plasma. I don’t trust either of them.”

“I don’t either. But Earnie doesn’t know that, so having Walter sweat him out served the same purpose.”

“Forget it. We’re up.” Cole leaned forward to turn on the docking lights and unlock the outer hatch. Molly looked up and saw the Inspection shuttle maneuvering their way.

“I hope ours goes that fast,” she said.

A thump vibrated through the hull, followed by the clicking of collar locks. Molly wondered what this experience would’ve been like if their trip to Palan had gone as planned. She probably would’ve been nervous with the inspection process, but with normal first-time jitters steadied by the surety of innocence. Instead, she had the pure unadulterated terror of guilt working up and down her spine. She followed Cole through the cargo bay, a sudden surge of adrenaline weakening her knees.

The inner door of the airlock hissed open and stern Navy boots stomped out. Molly stopped by the workbench as Cole moved to greet the inspectors.

“Welcome aboard,” he said, his voice much calmer than Molly felt. He shook hands with each of the two men as they popped off their helmets. Molly gathered them politely as if they were having guests for tea. She laid them on Lady Liberty’s workbench and hoped the tension she felt was a normal part of this process, something exuded by the guilty and innocent alike.

The two inspectors surveyed the cargo bay intently; one of them cleared his throat. The other man, brandishing a thick mustache, took the ship’s registry from Cole. He held it in one hand and rubbed his whiskers with the other. The questions came without looking up, but his partner kept a keen eye on everyone’s face as they responded. Now and then he cleared his throat, which made Molly want to unzip her skin and launch herself into space.

“Just three crew?” He injected as much doubt into his voice as possible, making the innocuous seem ludicrous. Earnie had warned Molly it would go like this, every question meant to make bad people lie over stupid stuff, trapping them in a corner they weren’t prepared to fib their way out of.