Page 11 of Love Below Zero

11

TURBULENCE

JAMES

Eli Gallo

Where are you?

Me

On the plane.

Eli Gallo

Typical. See you soon.

Jules

Good luck on Mars! Love you!

Me

Love you too. See you in four months.

Surprisingly, I am not the first one to make it to the plane on the morning of our departure. Rebecca is already there, seated in the back row. She’s looking out of the window, but her eyes are vacant. Her right leg is bouncing up and down. I don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that she’s clearly anxious.

A small, private aircraft will take us to Antarctica. The flight isn’t long, and the weather should be good enough for it to be an easy journey.

I should sit anywhere else, yet I find myself walking over to her. We are both dressed in the standard mission outfit. Thermal pants and shirt, ESA jacket, boots. It feels strange, not wearing a tie, but it isn’t exactly astronaut attire, so here we are.

Rebecca is wearing a beanie and clutching a jacket in her lap. Even though it’s summer in Antarctica, it will still be well below freezing. My own jacket is in my carry-on bag, which I store in the overhead bin next to hers.

We were only allowed a certain weight of personal effects, to simulate a real trip to Mars where space would be at a premium. I packed relatively light. Laptop, e-reader, and Rebecca’s books. I stared at them for a long time while packing last night, debating on whether or not to bring them. They took up a significant portion of my weight allowance, yet I didn’t mind. Maybe I’ll finally get her to sign the books, since I never did get a bookplate.

“Are you alright?” I ask, once I’m seated next to her.

She jumps, clutching at her chest. “Fuck. I didn’t hear you come in. Are we leaving yet?”

I check my watch. “In about fifteen minutes, if everyone is on time.”

She slumps back into her seat, pulling the jacket close to her chest. Before I can ask again if she’s alright, Eli and Joanna make their way onto the plane.

“Holy shit, this is nice. Are these seats real leather?” Joanna drops into the seat in front of us, hanging over the back. “You kids ready for this?”

Eli puts his carry-on, which looks suspiciously overstuffed, in the overhead bin across from us. “I for one am looking forward to not having to answer emails for four months.”

“You’ll still be getting them,” I point out. We would have access to email to talk to the ground crew, and we’d have access to our own personal emails.

“Yes, but I don’t have to answer them.” Eli pulls a bag of Red Vines from his carry-on. “Anyone want one?”

“How many of these did you pack?” Joanna asks as she leans over to grab one. Eli offers the bag to me and Rebecca, but we both decline.

“And where did you even get them?” I ask.

“Had a layover in New York. And I have enough for four months, so this is the last time I’m offering any of you food.”

“We’re off to a great start then.” Joanna bites into the Red Vine, pulling it with her teeth.

“We all have our vices. Red Vines happens to be mine.”

“I think I’ll miss beer the most,” Joanna says between bites. “Unless we brew our own.”

“Absolutely not,” I say. Better to shut this down before Joanna gets any more ideas. “We can’t risk an explosion. Alcohol isn’t allowed during this test, and there are CO2 monitors in the dome, so they’ll be able to tell if you try.”

Joanna raises a brow at me. “It was a joke, Dexter. I’m well aware of the mission parameters.”

“Just making sure,” I say with a tight smile.

“I’m going to miss books,” Rebecca says. I look at her, stunned by the revelation.

“You didn’t pack any books? ”

“Not physical ones, no, just my e-reader. I’m going to miss the smell and feel of books.”

“I’m going to miss rocks,” Eli says. He is finally in his seat, a Red Vine hanging from his mouth. “Real, actual dirt.”

“You didn’t pack any dirt in your bag?” Joanna asks.

“I would never put dirt in a bag,” Eli scoffs. “It’s in clearly labelled containers.”

“Alright, crew, this is it.” Frances makes her way onto the plane, her own carry-on slung over her shoulder. “Just spoke to the pilot, we’re on our way.”

The plane engines start up and I hear Rebecca suck in a sharp breath next to me. The others settle into their seats for the flight, already pulling out either e-readers or headphones. Rebecca’s gaze is once again locked on the outside. We start to taxi and the pilot’s voice comes over the intercom announcing that there will be some turbulence on take-off.

Rebecca actually whimpers, the sound sending electricity buzzing through me.

“Tell me what’s going on,” I say, my voice low so the others won’t hear.

She just shakes her head, her hands wrapped tight around the jacket in her lap. I can’t handle seeing her in so much distress. I grab one of her hands, folding it tightly into mine as the plane speeds forward for take-off.

“It’s going to be alright,” I whisper, my thumb stroking her hand. Her eyes are clamped shut as we lift into the air, the wind whipping the plane. We dip slightly and her hold on me tightens. “We’re almost at cruising altitude, you’re okay.”

The plane takes a sharp turn before levelling out. I keep her hand in mine, watching her closely. Her breathing steadies, and she finally opens her eyes. They meet mine, dark like a black hole. I want to fall in.

“I’m sorry,” she says hoarsely. She doesn’t let go of my hand.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” I squeeze her hand again. I don’t let go either.

“I usually take something before flying, but it knocks me out for the whole day. And this is only four hours, and we need to work afterwards, so I couldn’t take anything,” she explains.

“So you write books about spaceships but you’re afraid of flying?”

“Shut up.” She snorts, smacking my arm with her free hand. She looks a little less pale now that we are cruising.

“Do you need me to get you anything?”

“Can you grab my e-reader out of my bag, please?”

I nod. Her hand is warm in mine, and I find myself reluctant to let go, but I do. I get up and grab the e-reader out of her bag, also grabbing mine in the process. I wander to the front of the plane to snag us both a bottle of water, and a chocolate. The sugar will be good for her in this instance. I check the label, happy when I find it’s gluten-free, as I requested.

“Here.” I hand her the snacks and e-reader. “Eat this—you’ll feel better.”

She glances at the label before looking back at me, surprised.

“Thank you,” she says. I nod and sit back down, opening my own e-reader. I feel her eyes linger on me for a while before she settles back into her seat.

The flight is mostly passed in silence, and when we start our descent, I reach out and take her hand again.