“If she felt we were no longer required, if we were getting in her way and she could make it without us? Yes.” Hixon’s voice was a soft murmur. “I’m trying to make sure we all survive.”

“That’s still cowardice,” Hart said, turning from her wife in disgust.

“The cure will be on board,” Naomi said, her voice barely a whisper. Hixon caught it, but Hart was over at the autodoc. “Or at least the formula will be. She wouldn’t risk anyone infected following us to Cavendish without it. You’re good with computers. See if you can get through Valerie’s personal encrypted files. Evan tried to help me with them, but I couldn’t figure it out. We have to try. But please—please run the calculations to see if we can go back. Just in case.”

Naomi lay back in the autodoc, watching emotions play over Hixon’s face as Hart started the scan.

“Irene—” Hixon began.

“No,” Hart cut her off. “You don’t say a goddamn word to me until you come to your senses.”

Hixon blinked quickly, but the tears didn’t fall. Hart was dry-eyed.

“Have you had any symptoms that worried you?” Hart asked Naomi, all business, even as they both knew Naomi had only claimed she needed a scan as an excuse to talk.

“Some headaches,” she said, which was true. “Swollen ankles.” Also true.

Naomi kept her body still, focusing inwards. But she sensed the baby was still there, clinging on.

The scan completed and Naomi stood up, the blood rushing to her head. She clutched at the foam of the autodoc to steady herself.

“All looks fine so far, but here—” Hart passed Naomi another cup—“take a piss. Better safe than sorry.”

Naomi did as she was told. If Hart and Hixon spoke while she went about her business, she couldn’t hear.

Their body language was stiff when she returned. Hixon’s head tilted up at the scan. Was she thinking about what would happen if they arrived in Cavendish and for whatever reason couldn’t grow viable artificial wombs?

Hart was quiet, head bowed. Hixon took a few steps towards her, hesitant. Hart raised her head, weary. She didn’t pull away as Hixon rested a hand on her upper arm. Their anger had sparked out. Hixon drew her close, and Naomi saw her whisper something in her ear.

Hart pulled away, searching her wife’s face. Hixon had let the tears fall, finally, unashamed. Hart wiped them away. “I understand,” Hart said, aloud. “You’re doing what you think is best. But don’t think that makes it right between us.”

Hixon sniffed, once. “Let’s get you back to your lab, Lovelace. We need the next crop of nutriblocks.”