Page 201 of Seven Oars
“What if something happens to their spacesuits?” she wrung her hands.
“It won’t.”
“How can they call for help?”
“They can’t.” His voice softened.“It’s a risk we take. I’ve gone on spacewalks many times. It will be alright.”
The airlock hissed shut with a final seal.
No fear, only faith,Rosamma chanted in her head.
It helped very little. Dread chilled her to the bone. One mishap, and they were doomed.
Behind her, the muffled banging sounds let them know that Phex and the crew weren’t taking kindly to being sealed off in the Habitat.
Despite everything, it unsettled Rosamma.
“Can the pirates ever open that door?”
She called them pirates out of habit, but was that still accurate?
Anske and Fawn were more like… pirate-adjacent.
And Phex? Despite becoming a Striker, he’d never looted a thing. In fact, as a defender, he used to be the opposite.
Then there was Fincros—a real pirate, but also a real defender—now a part of Rosamma’s distinctly non-pirate group. So, was he still one? And if he was, did that make her, Eze, and Gro pirate-adjacent too?
Her head spun trying to process it all.
This place, Seven Oars, took things that should have been simple and mashed them into a cluster of contradictions.
“They’ll find a way to free themselves,” Fincros said, unconcerned. “Once Thilza runs out of dope, he’ll figure it out. And Tutti’s covering the autopilot at the Command Center.”
A bang from inside the chute made Rosamma jump.
“Open up, stardust,” Finn said gently.
Rosamma performed the sequence of commands he had taught her.“I hope it’s Eze with the spacesuit.”
“The chances of it being someone else are slim.”
Inside the helmet, Eze’s head bobbed up and down. She was smiling.
“Well, I guess it went well,” Rosamma muttered.“Spare me the details, why don’t you?”
Then it was her turn.
She suited up: the onesie, the helmet, the pack. Once connected, she could talk to Eze through the comm.
She glanced at Fincros. Her lips moved, a declaration of love that he couldn’t see.
The tricky part—activating the chute aperture and then diving inside while wearing the spacesuit—was as awkward as could be expected.
The chute swallowed them, pressed their helmets together. Then the pressure dropped, and they became weightless.
Rosamma started wheezing almost as soon as the outward lock opened and she floated into open space.
Eze reached out and secured her tether to the chrome railings. Rosamma clung to them as she gaped at the stars. She was really there. Out in it. One of them.
