Page 12 of Love Below Zero

12

WHITEOUT

BECKY

Anne:

Just checking in on your progress. How’s the writing going?

MacKenzie:

Have a safe trip to Mars! Let me know how things are going as soon as you can. I’ll hold Anne off :)

James Reid held my hand.

I’m standing on a whiteout continent that only a handful of people have ever been on, and the only thing going through my mind is that James Reid held my hand. Twice.

Once the plane landed and my anxiety subsided, I realised just how big of a moment it really was. My hand still tingles. I feel like a kid who just held hands with her crush for the first time.

Get it together, Baxter.

Now is not the time for silly crushes. We are both adults. He was helping me through a panic attack. It meant nothing.

And yet, as I stand ankle deep in snow, looking out over a barren wasteland that is both wonderful and terrifying, my gaze keeps snagging on him. He’s talking to one of the ground crew, a pair of sunglasses on his face, his hair standing in every direction. How the fuck does a pair of sunglasses make someone hotter? When did I start thinking of James Reid as hot?

Maybe I need to lie down.

We arrived at our new home for the next four months half an hour ago, and we’ve been busy making the final preparations. We will be living in a large white geodesic dome that almost blends in perfectly with its surroundings, if not for the giant ESA logo on the top and sides. There are a few other buildings surrounding it, mostly small shipping containers used for storage, but overall it is as isolated as one can get.

The ground crew are loading the last of our food supplies, mostly things like freeze dried beef, dehydrated fruits and vegetables, rice, flour, nuts, oils, and spices. Things that could realistically last the trip to Mars and beyond. It means no fresh fruits for four months, unless we manage to grow our own, which Eli will be attempting with some actual Martian soil provided by the ESA.

I already miss strawberries and we haven’t even started yet.

A snowball explodes against my chest, pulling me out of my thoughts. I look around for the culprit, finding Joanna whistling and pointedly ignoring my gaze. I grin, scooping up my own handful of snow. Before I can enact my revenge however, Frances calls us together.

“Alright, crew, this is it. Prep is done and we’re ready to be locked in. Take your last breaths of fresh air.”

I immediately go on manual breathing mode, sucking in a deep breath. It’s weird. The outside always smells like something—exhaust fumes or freshly cut grass. Here there is just nothing, not even the occasional sniff of ocean air. The wind is blowing toward the Atlantic, and it is a fairly nice day, considering.

“You ready for this?” Jojo asks as she steps up beside me. Her eyes scan the landscape, taking in their last rays of sunshine for a while.

“I’m ready,” I say, though my heart is pounding in my chest. This is it. Four months of the same people, the same smells, the same seats, the same view outside the one window we have. It didn’t feel real until this very moment, and now it feels momentous. Like I really am leaving Earth behind.

Jojo’s hand finds mine and gives it a squeeze. “All aboard! Next stop, Mars!” she hollers, before dragging me into the dome.

My eyes lock with James as he enters after us, the only green to be seen for miles. My stomach flips, blush creeping into my cheeks.

No, I think, shaking my head a little. I cannot afford this kind of distraction. I have a book to write. My publishing contract is on the line. I need to do well in this study. James Reid cannot be a factor, and I am determined to avoid him as much as possible while simultaneously being locked in a small dome together.

The door swings shut behind us, and we all stand in the small foyer, listening to the departing sounds of the ground crew until everything falls silent around us.

We are alone.

The dome seems big from the outside, but I realise pretty quickly that personal space will be at a premium here. The foyer we are standing in will be our “airlock,” the place we will wait five minutes before going outside and coming back in. We have to wear bulky hazmat suits when going outside, to simulate the conditions for going outside when on Mars. The red planet doesn’t have an atmosphere, so a spacesuit is needed.

Beyond the foyer is a shipping container attached to the dome that houses a workshop with tools and supplies. I’m guessing that’s where Joanna will spend most of her time. To the right is an archway that leads to a large common area. Three plastic tables stand around the curve of the dome, and a fourth table stands near the kitchen. Black high-backed rolling chairs dot the space.

The kitchen is an uninspiring shade of blue. There is a small fridge, some convection burners, a convection oven, and various other necessities.

Space really isn’t glamorous, despite my best attempts to make it so in my books. All of my spaceships have cool neon lights and comfortable spaces dotted with personal effects.

This just feels cold, and not because the temperature outside is below freezing.

Next to the kitchen is the small laboratory Eli will use to grow plants in, and next to that, a bathroom .

We are limited to eight minutes of shower time a week, and for someone with a rigorous skincare routine, this seems like the worst part of the experiment. A staircase next to the bathroom leads to the upper floor, where five closet-sized bedrooms and another bathroom sit. On the landing is the only window in the entire dome. It isn’t very big, and someone has propped one of the office chairs next to it. I have a feeling I will be spending a lot of time there.

Frances must have felt the existential dread seeping into us, because she immediately starts handing out orders.

“Joanna, James, run system checks on all the major functions of the dome. I’ll set up our command centre and workstations. Eli, you’re in charge of scheduling and setting up a routine for us. Rebecca, you’re on inventory.”

We spring into action, glad to have something to do.

Joanna and James are already bickering about something in the container. I pull out my laptop and get to work on the food inventory. Even though we got a list from the ESA, we still have to go through everything manually and make sure we have what we need. Our food stores require careful planning and monitoring. It is arguably the most important aspect of this mission, and Frances put me in charge.

I’m out of my depth again, listening to Frances and Eli talk about the computer setup, and James and Joanna arguing about the settings for the water recycler and solar panels. These are real scientists and engineers who can probably explain entropy without blinking an eye. Meanwhile I know over fifty words for penis and yet still just use “penis” to describe the male appendage.

“Oh boy,” I whisper under my breath.

“Baxter,” Frances’ voice cut through the rest. Her gaze is focused on me. “You better start or we’re not going to be in time for dinner.” She’s firm, yet not unkind. Basically, stop worrying and get your ass into gear.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say, and reach for the nearest bag of flour to start cataloguing. I can do this.