Schmidt looked over at Kruger’s fingertips for a second, snerked and reached over to the box. He pulled it out and opened it up.

Inside, among many other things, were a foil blanket and a very small oxygen kit.

Hey, look, your very own oxygen supply, Schmidt’s brain said to him.

“Yeah, well, don’t get too excited,” he said, out loud, to his brain. “You still can’t get that door open without losing your hand.”

Gate six exploded.

In the immediate aftermath, Schmidt wasn’t sure if he’d been deafened by the pressure blast blowing out his eardrums or all the air in the section that contained gate six and gate seven being sucked out into space, along with Goosen, Pandit and Mothudi and everyone else who had been raging at gate six. Then he felt the air in his lungs seeping out through his lips and nose and decided it just didn’t matter. He grabbed at the first-aid box, wrapped the blanket over the top half of his body as tightly as he could with one hand and with the other covered his face and mouth with the mask of the oxygen kit.

The mask immediately fogged. Schmidt gave himself a quick hit of oxygen and tried not to panic.

In another minute, the section was completely silent and Schmidt felt himself start to freeze. He got up from the bench he’d crouched under and went to the gate seven door. It opened with only the slightest resistance.

On the other side of the door was Kruger: cyanotic, fingerless, frozen and looking, in death, extraordinarily pissed. Schmidt sidestepped Kruger’s corpsicle and ran as quickly as he could down the ramp, blue fingers clutching the space blanket and the oxygen.

The shuttle deck of gate seven had sprouted what looked like several doors leading to subterranean alcoves: the escape pods. Schmidt picked the closest one and with shivering hands cycled the portal shut. Sealed, the escape pod sensed the vacuum and freezing cold and blasted both oxygen and warmth into the pod. Schmidt cried and shook.

“Pod launch in fifteen seconds,” a computerized voice said. “Secure yourself, please.”

Schmidt, still shivering violently, reached up and pulled down the padded seat restraint as the escape pod counted off the seconds. He passed out before the voice got to three and missed his launch entirely.

*   *   *

Lowen cried with relief when the automated announcement about the escape pods fired up and then started going for one of them when their egress doors on the deck floor opened. Wilson reached out and held her back.

“What are you doing?” she yelled at him, clawing at his hand.

“We have a way off this station,” Wilson said to her. “Other people don’t.”

Lowen pointed to the escape pods opening up around her. “I’d rather go this way,” she said. “I’d rather have something around me when I launch myself into space.”