Naomi rose and fell as gravity took and released its hold. She spread her arms wide, far above the ground, and promised she wouldn’t let failure define her. She would try again in two years. And again two years after that.

She’d try until they couldn’t say no.

CHAPTER NINE

46 Days After Launch

80 Days to Mars

203 Days to Cavendish

Naomi slept in too long and was late to her physical with Hart.

She cursed, jumping into her coveralls, chewing a couple of vanilla-ish nutriblocks on her way to the med bay, her stomach still protesting as she struggled to wake up. Her circadian rhythms had been hopeless since they’d taken off.

Naomi was the last of the women to submit to Hart’s pokes, prods, and ministrations. She’d delayed the inevitable. She made her way to the opposite side of the ring from her lab and sleeping quarters.

Hart called for her to come in when she knocked. She had a stylus stuck behind her ear and was frowning at something on her tablet. Naomi perched on the spare chair, crossing her ankles, shoulders hunched. The room was the same size as Naomi’s lab, and nearly as crowded. A covered autodoc centre in the corner looked eerily similar to the cryopods down in the Crypt. It’d run scans, perform minor procedures, and was their backup in case Hart herself became ill. She did some initial tests, looking in Naomi’s eyes with a light, down her throat, taking her pulse. More for the familiarity than anything else.

“Sorry I’m late. Overslept,” Naomi said.

“You seem nervous, Lovelace,” Hart said.

“I’m fine.”

“Nausea still troubling you?” Hart asked, eyeing her critically. “You’ve lost weight, and you were on the slim side to start with.”

“It comes and goes. Stress and boring chow don’t help.” She couldn’t quite meet Hart’s eyes.

“Here you go,” Hart said, passing her an empty cup.

Naomi took it to the bathroom in the corridor. There was no way to collect it gracefully, though at least gravity made it easier—no peeing into a hose with a cup on the end like astronauts had once done on the ISS. Her heartbeat hammered in her ears as she washed her hands. She came out with the small plastic container.

Hart put it in the tray to the right of the autodoc, selecting a few commands on the screen. “So are you planning on telling me or will we let the machine do that for you?”

Naomi stood stiff, arms wrapped tight around her torso. She sucked in a breath. “I… I don’t know for sure.”

Hart gave her a look. “I’m not surprising you, though, am I?”

Naomi clicked her tongue against the back of her teeth, then shook her head. “How long have you suspected?”