They arrived at the cargo hold and grabbed pressure suits. A small voltage caused the fabric to expand, allowing them to easily don the suits. They dressed, checked each other’s fit, then turned off the trickle charge. The material of the suit immediately contracted, providing the required pressure to counteract the vacuum of space, without the associated risk of an air leak. The suit material was also very slightly porous, so that sweat would evaporate into space rather than pooling in the suit.

Gloves, boots, backpack and helmet all snapped onto no-fail connectors. It was supposed to be impossible to get it wrong, or have a bad seal. No one, of course, wanted to test that assumption, so all EVAs involved a buddy-check.

Ivan and Seth inspected each other’s setup once more to ensure proper fit and function. Then they moved through the airlock into the zero-pressure section of the hold. Ivan thought he felt his skin press more tightly against the suit fabric.

“Over here,” Seth said over the radio, and motioned to one end. Ivan followed him, paying extreme attention to his jet-pack controls. The technology had improved immensely since the early days of space flight, and control was now far more intuitive, but you still didn’t want to make a mistake in a small space with hard metal boundaries.

Seth came to a floating stop beside an object that looked something like an old-fashioned marine buoy, about six feet in diameter and twenty feet long, generally cylindrical. The beacon would expand to twice that length once in space, as it deployed its antennae.

The beacon was secured to the bulkhead by a series of metal straps. Seth pointed to the far side of the device. “Releases are on that side, Ivan. Start from the top, free each one as I say to, okay?”

“Got it.”

It took only moments to work down the restraints and free the beacon. Seth worked a panel and a scissors lift slowly extended the beacon from the wall.

“Open the hold door, Ivan.”

Ivan went blank for a second, then looked around and spotted the control panel on the far wall. Feeling a moment of embarrassment for the brain fart, he pushed off and drifted over to the panel. He attached the carabiner of his leash to the nearby stanchion, scanned the directions printed beside the panel, then worked the controls.

Slowly, majestically, the hold doors swung open. Despite himself, Ivan was entranced by the view of open space with no planets or man-made objects anywhere to be seen.

Too entranced, as it turned out. A mocking comment from Seth brought him back to reality. “Whenever you’re finished looking at the pretty lights, Ivan, I’d like to get this done.”