“Get it out of your system,” my mother said. She pumped on my stomach with her bare hands. I pushed her away and rolled onto all fours. Inexplicably, this corridor seemed to have gravity. My clothes were stuck to me and I had dripped a trail of water across the passage. “Jesus Christo,” I said. “I can’t go on.” I shuddered against the cold. Cried and thumped a hand on the floor. Spewed some more. “We’re so close,” my mother said. Her armour was also wet and her rifle was missing. She had probably lost it in the tank. “Just the end of this corridor.” “The captain is gone. Lucina is gone. Sheldon is gone!” “And you are still here. You are going to live. You’re going to get off this station and leave this mess behind.” She held me by the shoulders, crouched in front of me. Tried to make eye contact with me.
