Fin opens the seal and holds on to a cable, hanging there. Shell is opposite him, holding on to cargo netting, unafraid, or hiding her fear well. She has kind eyes, he notices, even through her visor. Like she’s a good person. Not a mass murderer.

A growl.

Oh.

Fin knows what it is just before it crawls free from the sleeping areas. Because of the weird micrograv situation, the wolfstink comes first, and when the wolf emerges it reminds Fin of a hell beast let loose from the City of Dis or something.

It storms past them into the bridge, into the mass of hostiles.

“Fuck, Salvo, what did you do?” asks Shell.

“I reprogrammed Yan Maxwell’s wolf,” said Salvo. “He belongs to us now. He fights for us.”

And fight he does. Neither the small mammal things nor the robots are a match for the feral wolf. Untiring, it bites through fur, skin, alloy and that mossy shit. They converge on it, but it does not slow, does not seem to feel pain. A drilling instrument from a maintenance bot goes into its belly and the wolf discharges some kind of taser that repels and deactivates the attackers.

“I like this wolf better than your airlock venting plan,” says Fin.

“It is impressive,” says Shell.

It clears the bridge and jumps into the main truss, fighting as it goes. A large mass of insects follows it.

“Keep your suit on. We don’t know what’s infective and we don’t know what the insects can do.” Shell enters the bridge again. It is full of floating machinery, droplets of blood, plant material. “Salvo, thank you. You… thank you. Now, kit out my godfather and his daughter. First priority is to get that antenna up.”

In the lab, Salvo, Shell and Fin watch the spacewalk. At the door, the wolf sits on its haunches, staring from person to person to person and back again.

“What are we going to call him?” says Fin, staring back.

“Orbiter,” says Salvo.

“No!” say Fin and Shell at the same time.

“What, then?” says Salvo.

The radio comes live. “How about Frances,” says Joké.

“Concentrate on what you’re doing,” says Shell. “And it’s a boy wolf.”

“Oh, yes, do let’s play gender essentialist. It’s such fun,” says Joké.

“Joké, you’re on a spacewalk,” says Shell.

“It’s a beeline, Captain. It’s basic until we get to the stump,” says Joké.

“I think Frances is a lovely name,” says Fin.

“Fine. What can we do in the meantime?” asks Shell.

“Nothing till the antenna’s fixed,” says Salvo. He whistles and the wolf comes. “I can fix Frances while we wait.”

“How much time do we have left?” asks Fin.

“Given the metrics I’m picking up, accounting for the animals, the exertion—”

“Jesus, man, just give us a figure,” says Shell.

“Two thousand, five hundred and fifty minutes,” says Salvo. “Just under two days.”