“I heard,” Cara said. “There’s a dive?”
“We’re going to try using the catalyst to open a path into the ring station, yes,” Elvi said. “But it’s not like going into the diamond. Same equipment, different job.”
“I should go in. You should send me.”
“Amos Burton is going to—”
“I have more experience,” Cara said. “I understand how it works in there better than he does.”
Elvi raised her hands, seeing as she did it how condescending the gesture was. “It’s not like that. This is a different artifact. It’s unlikely to behave in the same way. There’s no reason to think your experience in Adro will translate to this. And the dependency issue—”
The rage in Cara’s expression was as sudden as flipping a page. When she spoke, her voice had a hornet’s-nest buzz. Fayez shifted closer to Elvi.
“Dependency is bullshit. It’s bullshit, and we both know it.”
“It’s real,” Elvi said. “I can show you the data. The serotonin and dopamine levels—”
Cara shook her head once, a movement of controlled violence. A voice in Elvi’s mind said You did this. This is your fault. It sounded like Burton, filled with a flat, matter-of-fact rage.
“I understand the risks,” Cara said. “I’ve always understood the risks. You’re going to save me from addiction by blowing our best chance to survive? Does that make any sense to you?”
Fayez shifted, trying to bring the girl’s wrath away from Elvi. “I don’t think that’s exactly—”
“Look in a fucking mirror, Doc,” Cara said. “You don’t get to tell me how important my health is while you’re spending your own like that. If you don’t matter, why are you pretending that I do? Is it because I look like a teenager? Keep your fucking maternal instinct to yourself.”
“There’s a difference,” Elvi said, “between missing a few exercise sessions and intentionally exposing a research subject to risk. What I do with my own body—”
“I get to pick what I do with my body too!” Cara’s voice was a roar now. The need and hunger in her eyes was feral. “You treat me like a child because I look like a child, but I’m not.”
She could have just as easily said You treat me like a human because I look like a human. It would have been as true. Elvi felt something deep in her chest settle. An ancient instinct, deep in her, told her that showing weakness now was a step toward death. She summoned the coldness of decades in academia.
“I don’t think you’re a child, but I am the lead researcher here, and in my judgment you aren’t the right subject for this test. If you want to try assaulting me into changing my mind, this is your opportunity.”
Cara went still for a moment, and then deflated. “You’re just doing this because you’re scared of him,” she said, but there was no heat behind it. Cara turned and pulled herself away down the corridor. The guilt was a knot in Elvi’s throat, but she didn’t let herself soften. There would be time later to make amends.
She hoped there would.
“This is Tanaka. The girl and I are in position.”
Elvi made one last look around the lab. Amos was in place, strapped into the medical couch. They’d taken his shirt off to place the sensors, and the black, chitinous mass of scar where he’d been shot on New Egypt shimmered in the light like oil on water. A white ceramic feed line had been inserted into a vein in his arm and taped down to hold it in place. His body’s rapid healing kept trying to push the needle back out again.
He seemed at ease and mildly amused by it all.
The technicians and science team were at their stations. Where the readouts of the BFE had been, images of the ring station flickered and jumped. Elvi felt vaguely nauseated. She didn’t remember the last time she’d eaten.
“Understood,” she said. “We are starting the dive now. Stand by.” She dropped the external connection. “Last chance to back out.”
Amos smiled at her. It was the same expression he’d have used if she’d told a joke or offered him a beer. The medical readouts showed his heartbeat low and steady, his cortisol levels low. Either his resurrection had been more transformative than Cara’s or he was just really hard to scare. He gave her a thumbs-up and stretched. Jim, tucked in a corner, seemed like a ghost trying to keep out of the paths where someone might walk through him. She half regretted letting him come observe.