Chapter 7: Back in the Can
Inside my helmet, the comm crackles to life. "Horizon to EVA team – did you make it in?" Commander Patel's voice comes through, tight with worry.
"We’re in, Commander," I answer, relief washing over me as the inner door begins to open to the safe interior of the habitat. "We’re safe. And we have the sample."
I hear Patel exhale. "Good work. All of you. Now let’s get you decontaminated and out of those suits. This storm might last a while, and we’ve got to secure the hab."
The three of us step into the main module, greeted by the glare of bright lights and the circulating warmth of Earth-like air. Commander Patel stands waiting with towels and a concerned gaze. He looks each of us over as though counting limbs, and only when he seems satisfied does a small smile tug at his lips.
"You all look like drowned rats," he says dryly.
"Feel like it too," Jack replies, peeling off his helmet. His hair is plastered to his head, sweat-matted, and his grin is pure adrenaline. "But you should see the other guy."
Valentina laughs, a breathless, shaky sound that matches my own bubbling laughter as I pull off my helmet. The recycled air hits my nose like a balm – sterile, metallic, strangely comforting. Home base. We’ve made it back.
I look at them both: Jack’s eyes wide and wild, Valentina practically vibrating with barely-contained energy, and Commander Patel offering a quiet nod of pride. In that moment, I feel connected to them in a way that only shared survival can forge.
The sample case is still clutched in my gloved hands. Warm, thanks to the internal heater keeping the sample in liquid state. A piece of Titan. Maybe alive. My hands tremble. Not from the cold, or the storm, but from sheer awe.
"We should... check on this, right away," I say, holding the case up.
Patel lays a firm hand on my shoulder. "And we will. But first, out of your suits and ten minutes of rest. That’s an order. Sample's stable. I need you sharp. Understood?"
I want to argue. Every part of me screams to get that sample under a microscope. But he’s right. Jack and Valentina are sagging too, running on fumes. "Understood, Commander."
As we unbuckle our gear, the hab rattles occasionally with wind. Patel leaves to check systems. I fumble with my zipper, fingers stiff. Jack steps in gently.
"Here, let me."
His hands guide the zipper down. I step out of the bulky outer suit with his help. Underneath, the pressure garment clings to me, damp and chilled. Jack’s bruise is more visible now. A scrape on his cheekbone.
I touch it instinctively. "You’re hurt."
"Just a bump," he says. He doesn’t pull away.
Something shifts. His mask of bravado falters, revealing raw vulnerability. Without thinking, I lean in and press my forehead to his. A wordless thank you. A silent "we made it."
He closes his eyes. His hands rest gently on my arms. We stand like that for a long breath.
Valentina coughs from behind us, studiously fiddling with her own suit. "I, uh, I’ll get the lab ready," she says, grabbing the sample case and hurrying off.
Jack and I step apart. My cheeks flush, but I meet his eyes.
"Jack, I—"
He touches my lips lightly. "It’s okay. We’re okay." That roguish smile of his softens. "What you did out there, Mira... it was risky. But amazing. You’re amazing."
I feel tears press behind my eyes. This man, who warned me to be careful, backed me up completely. "We make a good team."
"The best," he says. Then he swallows hard. "When I saw that lightning... when I thought maybe we wouldn't make it back... I realized something. If I ever lost you—"
I squeeze his hand. "I’m not going anywhere. Not without one hell of a fight."
I kiss him. It’s brief, messy, damp with sweat and tears, but real. He pulls me into a tight embrace. For those few seconds, or maybe it was minutes, Titan disappears. Thunder shakes the hab again.
"We should probably join the others," he murmurs.
"Science can’t wait forever," I agree.
We clean up quickly and change into dry jumpsuits. I pull my hair into a ponytail, give him a soft smile, and we make our way to the lab.
Patel and Valentina are already there, hovering over the airtight container in the sterile hood. The lights flicker once – the storm is still battering us – but hold steady.
"Feeling better?" Patel asks.
"Yes, sir," I say. I move to the hood like it’s calling me.
"Before you start," Patel raises a hand, "we’ve got a Category 3 methane storm on our hands. Comms are intermittent. Might lose them entirely."
Valentina frowns at a flickering monitor. "High-gain’s already down. I’ll try every half hour. Titan's basically sitting on our comms like an angry elephant."
Patel gives a grim smile. "So, we’re on our own. All non-essentials paused. Except... whatever that is in there. That stays essential."
Grateful, I nod and slip my hands into the glove ports and grab the sample containment pod.
The vial cracks open inside the hood. A wisp of ammonia-methane vapor escapes, instantly logged. Carefully, I place a droplet onto a slide and slide it beneath the scope.
The image comes into focus.
First: dark mud.
Then: structure. Woven filaments. Membrane-like threads. And nestled inside, spheres. Tiny globules. Not cells like Earth’s... but ordered. Intentional.
Blue-green light pulses from them.
A molecular aurora.
My hands fly to my mouth. "It’s... it’s life."
They’re metabolizing. Hydrogen in, methane out. Exactly what had been theorized. Titanian life.
Valentina shouts and claps Jack’s back. Jack laughs, full and free. Commander Patel... wipes his eyes. "Historic," he whispers. "Congratulations, Dr. Alonzo. You were right."
We bask in that moment. Surrounded by chaos, we’ve done something no human ever has. I hug Jack. "We did it."
He squeezes back. "You did it."
Valentina spins in place. "JPL’s gonna lose their minds. Nobel prizes! Champagne!"
Patel gently squeezes my shoulder. "First things first: survive the storm. Secure the data. Aegis, log everything and send it back home."
No response. I ask, “Has anyone heard anything from Aegis since we got back?”
Valentina’s eyebrows shoot up in concern, “Aegis, can you hear us? Aegis?” Her voice rises in panic. She runs to the nearest console and starts tapping and swiping madly. “She’s offline. The storm must have knocked out her subsystem.”
Commander Patel wears a serious expression. “Benitez, get her back online. Mira, keep at that sample. Let’s get all we can from it. If this storm knocks out any vital systems that we can’t fix we may have to abort and get back to orbit.” A loud thud and a creak is heard outside. Compander Patel says, “On second thought I want all of you back in your suits, with your helmets within reach.”
We put our suits on up to our armpits and grab our helmets. Then we get to work. We feed gases to the microbes. They like hydrogen. Jack manages the Minnow data. Patel writes reports. The storm screams outside.
A lightning strike knocks the reactor offline. Jack switches us to backups. Jack reports, “The reactor is offline. We have twelve hours of power. I could use Aegis right now.”
Hours pass. The storm wanes. The adrenaline does not. We are exhausted. Comms are still out. We can’t get Aegis back up and runningI sit in the galley, sipping lukewarm soup. Jack joins me with two mugs.
"Hot cocoa," he says. "Sort of." It smells like comfort. We share a quiet moment.
I ponder outloud to Jack, “Why does it make light? Is it for defense? Communication? It can’t even move. Maybe it is there to attract something else? Or scare it away?”
Jack responds, “I see what you’re getting at. Why glow unless it’s to interact with something that can actually move?”
“Exactly. There must be something making those ripples. There could be anything.”
Jack nudges my side with his elbow, “You want to take the minnow back out there, don’t you? You know, I’m going to go check that tether and make sure it’s not damaged.”
I elbow him back. “You’re the best.”
Jack puts down his mug next to him and pushes down with both hands on the bench we’re sitting on. He looks like he’s going to hit his head on the ceiling, but he pushes both hands on the ceiling and vaults himself forward, bouncing up and down like a pogo stick down the hallway.
“Show off,” I yell after him.
I turn back to my biology lab. To my left, a status panel blinked red. That’s odd. Then an alarm cuts through the background howl of wind: a shrill beep-beep-beep that sends my heart into my throat. “Methane levels rising in Habitat Section 3,” the panel displays.
End of chapter 7
