The human body was not designed to survive the vacuum of space. People were little more than bags of water with a thin layer of flesh to try to keep everything inside all in place. Under low pressure, the remaining air trapped within the lungs expanded, ripping the soft tissue. Water in other such tissues of the body vaporized, causing them to swell. Luckily, human skin was designed to remain a tight seal.

Hondo’s eyes bulged with knowing panic once the hangar doors began to open. The air rushed from the bay, the whoosh of escaping air buffeting him on its escape. The call of space tore at him.

“In the vacuum of space, the gas exchange of the lungs continues, but results in the removal of all gases from the bloodstream.” Stacia spoke in the disturbingly calm monotone of a bored professor giving a familiar lecture.

In desperation, Hondo wrapped his arm around a bar, holding on to his wrist with his free hand. He wouldn’t explode as so many movies might depict. Gas expelled from his bowels and stomach. Nor would any depiction of simultaneous vomiting, urination, and defecation make an attractive portrait. After that, photons and other radiation would savage him.

Held in place by Kenya and the security team, Dina screamed, her words reduced to incoherent noises.

“You’ll be able to hold on to the bar for about ten seconds, maybe fifteen, before deoxygenated blood reaches your brain and you lose consciousness. Then you’ll tumble into space, where you can survive for up to a couple of minutes. Don’t hold your breath or inhale deeply; it will only make it worse. Ironically, you have to fight against your instinct to survive in order to live longer. If only a few minutes.”

“Stacia!” Hondo cried out. “You don’t have to do this!”

“You conspired to kill my son,” Stacia whispered.

“Stacia…” Hondo’s grip started to falter, his flesh giving way in centimeters.

“You conspired to kill my son!” She slammed her palm against the observation window.

His protests stilled as ice began to coat his tongue. His body relaxed, growing limp. His grip slackened. His body tumbled toward the open bay doors. Almost as if he had fallen into darkness, an undifferentiated shape among the shadows swimming about.

Stacia’s mouth opened and closed in voiceless frustration. Angered by her inability to utter anything, she heard another voice. The voice of Xola. This is not our way.

Stacia hit the emergency override button, and the integrity field reestablished around the Cypher’s bay. The outer doors began to close. Hondo’s unconscious body tumbled to the ground. Stacia turned around, greeted by the drawn horror etched on the faces of everyone in the room. She fixed her face into a stone thing and met each and every one of them in the eye. Her stomach twisted, souring with a distant ache. She pointed in the general direction of Hondo.