Naomi stuck her head out first, squinting at the brightness. She flipped down the gold-lined shade of her helmet, then Grace’s, whose screams had only grown louder at the light. Baby’s first sunlight.

Naomi moved unsteadily. Two men’s hands under her shoulders helped haul her out of the shuttle. Grace was still caterwauling, and the men stared at the baby, a little open-mouthed. Naomi pulled off her gloves, passing them to one of the men. The other helped Hixon out, but Naomi focused on Grace, pressing her tight against the chest of the suit. Grace’s cries quieted slightly, turning into hiccoughs. The man with her gloves helped Naomi with her helmet.

The first thing to hit Naomi was the smell. Salt, brine, wet metal, a hint of human sweat. She staggered across to the boat, unsteady on her legs and the bob of the waves. She sat down in the shaded area on the deck, the suit feeling too heavy, waiting for Hixon and Hart to follow. She took Grace’s helmet off, pressing her bare palms against the softness of her child’s head, kissing away her tears.

The medical officer came to give Grace a check-up and Naomi reluctantly handed her over. The wind was warm against her skin. How alien something as simple as weather was after so long in a perfectly calibrated and unchanging temperature.

When Hart and Hixon were on board, they went inside long enough to shed their suits. Naomi changed into the spare clothes the rescue team had brought her. It was strange to wear jeans, a T-shirt and sneakers after so long in her uniform. The doctor came back with a freshly changed Grace and assurance that her health was sound. They’d put her in a onesie patterned with stars and planets and rockets. Naomi smiled at that.

They all smeared on the provided sunscreen, put on shades and hats. Reluctantly picked up filter masks. They hadn’t missed those, and it gave Naomi a pain to put one around Grace’s nose and mouth. Her daughter kept picking at it, her brow scrunched up in displeasure.

“I know,” Naomi told Grace. “They’re itchy. Sorry.”

She went back out on to the deck. She shook the hand of everyone in the rescue team, feeling awkward at how openly they stared at her. At least the filter mask hid some of the red and ugly scars on her face. She knew she was too pale. Between stress and nursing, she’d lost her pregnancy weight fast, and from unexpected areas. The reflection in the mirror looked drawn.