Afterward, she takes Hank and pulls him toward the airlock, the same as she did with Steve. She tells him that his joke earlier about getting home in time to watch M*A*S*H was funny. But she cannot bring herself to reassure him about Donna and Thea. All she can think of is Donna bringing Thea to the Outpost last month, Hank showing his baby girl off the entire night.

Vanessa snaps herself out of it. This is not something she can indulge right now.

When she gets to Lydia, she looks at her face. It is swollen but peaceful, without any of Lydia’s usual consternation. In this one acute moment, Vanessa regrets not trying to understand Lydia better when they were both on Earth. Joan was the only one who had ever really tried, the only one who had ever seen what Lydia was capable of. Joan had tried to tell her. Vanessa sees that now.

Carefully, Vanessa unzips the top of Lydia’s flight suit and applies the sensors for respiration, temperature, and heart rate. She zips it back up and takes Lydia’s hand in hers for a moment. She squeezes. Wordlessly, she pulls Lydia to the flight deck and puts her in the chair behind the commander’s seat. She buckles her in.

Then Vanessa takes Griff in her arms and carries him to the flight deck, putting him in the seat next to Lydia. And in a moment that she does not know is happening until it is over, she leans forward and kisses him on the temple.

“Navigator, this is Houston.” Joan. Finally, Joan is back.

“Copy.”

“Prepare for a contingency deorbit. We can land at Edwards in three revs. They have full trauma center capabilities. We are going to begin the deorbit checklist.”

All on her own, Vanessa will need to stow away all the equipment—including everything that was torn off the walls—and shut the payload doors. Then she will have to get in the pilot’s seat and begin the process of reentry.

She has been through enough in her life to know that there is no value in long-term thinking right now. In a crisis of this magnitude, you are best served by evaluating second by second.

So Vanessa does not imagine herself back on Earth. She does not imagine landing this shuttle. She does not imagine preparing for reentry.

Instead, she imagines strapping the lockers back onto the walls.

That, she can do.

Almost anyone who is cleared to be in the flight control room is there. The director’s suite is filled with men in jackets and ties. The simulation supervisors’ room is packed.

Joan can tell, just based on the hum within the room, that the theater behind her is filling up.