Mission Control was a large, multi-sided room. Screens and consoles lined every wall, except the one occupied by the large window overlooking the atrium. In the centre was a round meeting table with inbuilt holographic projectors; most of the twelve chairs surrounding it were upset. A small fire burned up against a console on the wall furthest from the door, licking the wall with yellow flame. The scientists, all bar Vance, Suzanne Van Houdt and Stulynow, were there, breathing masks over their mouths. Kick and Ito Miyazaki wielded a fire extinguisher, supplementing the base’s fire control, directing icy white clouds at the fire on the far side of the room. Red lights flickered. The fire went out. “Shut that damn alarm off!” Commander Orson shouted, his voice muffled behind his mask. The tumult ceased and the scientists came to a slow halt, looking for leadership from Orson. Quiet fell, but for the pervasive machine hum. A final plume of gas burst from the suppression system. Emergency lights painted the room red, black, red.
