He’d been annoyed she’d refused to take his last name. But Lovelace was one of the few pieces of her family she had left. She liked the sound of it, the delicate image it painted in her mind. The fact it was the same as Ada Lovelace, one of the earliest programmers, who may or may not be one of her ancestors. Naomi Palmer had never felt like a name she could claim as hers.

Naomi grabbed the wall, moving herself closer. Had the surge fractured the molecular bonds or membranes in his cells, disconnecting synapses, erasing the memories they’d both shared that only she would go on to remember? If he wasn’t gone, he would be soon enough.

There was so much she could say. The sick sense of failure that they couldn’t make it work. The hatred that had somehow morphed into something almost like fondness, despite everything. Maybe they should have had one last dance on Catalina Island.

Naomi’s head turned as she heard the distant sounds of someone coming down the ladder.

Valerie closed the hatch behind her, swimming towards her in the blue darkness.

“This is hardest for you out of all of us,” she began. “I wanted to check in.”

Naomi didn’t say anything. Her hand was still on Cole’s pod.

“He was a good man,” Valerie began, then stopped.

Naomi smiled wryly. “He is as good or bad as anyone,” she said. “No more, no less.”

If he’d been chosen for the core crew, he’d still be on Earth. Home with his family, waiting for the replacement ship so he could catch up to her. Through sheer luck of the lottery, he was here with the other unlucky souls.

“It feels awful, deciding their fate for them,” she said, voice low.

Valerie’s face was smoothed by the cool light from the pods, making her look younger, more like the woman Naomi remembered from her childhood. “I know.”

They sat there, in silence. Naomi didn’t cry. She thought she would have. But the longer she stayed with her hand on the cold glass, the more she hardened. The choice had been made, there was no going back. No point railing against it. Even after switching off the pods, getting the life support back into its symbiotic balance with the other systems on the ship would be difficult. They’d all be working twelve-, sixteen-hour stretches. Naomi welcomed the work and the distraction.

“I’ve told the others I’ll be the one to do it,” Valerie said. “As captain, the responsibility falls to me.” Her hand floated towards Naomi, as if she’d touch her, but at Naomi’s stiffness, she drew back. “I’ll take care of them. Of him, Naomi. As best I can.”