He’d just turned thirty-four, two years after his journey to Mars, and his clean-cut image was marred only by the beginnings of a reddish five o’clock shadow. He had a few faint lines at the corner of his eyes, no hint of the grey that would soon start to grace his temples, forcing out the reddish brown.

He perched on the opposite sofa, hands holding his near-empty wine glass. They both stared at the prints. She didn’t ask him those same questions everyone asked him about Mars. They spoke instead about the pictures, about science and space and the universe. Then they lapsed into silence, standing just that bit too close as they took in the art. Naomi sensed his attraction, and she ended up not regretting the dress and the way it hugged her. Naomi leaned close to him, paused, raised her eyebrows. He gave a hopeful “yes?” and she drew him in for a kiss. His fingers tangled in her hair.

Eight months later, they were married.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

84 Days After Launch

42 Days to Mars

165 Days to Cavendish

The Atalanta sped ever closer to Mars.

Naomi couldn’t get the image of the five wrapped bodies in the airlock out of her mind. They’d used rubber sheeting meant for lining her soil planters. Horribly, she’d spent a split second wondering if they should keep the corpses for fertiliser, or, even worse, as emergency calories. But she couldn’t. She just couldn’t.

They had looked like tarred mummies. Small. Diminished. She hadn’t been able to tell which one was Cole. One of those bodies she had once known as well as her own. That body had lain next to her at night. She’d memorised every scar, every birthmark. She’d learned to read every expression that face had made, searching for the clues to show what he meant versus what he said. She’d been able to pick out the timbre of his voice, his laugh, from the other side of a crowded room. She remembered every line of those hands that had held her close or slammed doors after their fights. A funeral had started their story, and now another ended it.

Cole would have liked the thought of being buried in space, though he’d probably rather have been buried on Mars.

The five women had gathered, shoulder to shoulder, staring through the porthole of the airlock. Everyone had said a few words. Naomi couldn’t remember what she said at the time. It had been inelegant but heartfelt, she knew that much.

Valerie pressed the button. The bodies were there, and then a blink, a release of pressure, and they were gone. Cole floated out there, somewhere, left behind with his crew mates. Man overboard. Naomi’s eyes still stayed dry.