Free Lana's Comet (Outer Settlement Agency) by Lyn Brittan Page A

touch. We’re good at that.”
    At least she returned his smile and raised it with a wink. That was a start. Lana projected the glowing outline of the area he had to dig through. “There it is,” she said and zoomed in. “Two large blocks, separated by a synthetic backing.”
    He half ran the short distance to the rear of the vessel and yanked at the siding until it gave way, then he shoved his hands into the guts of the ship. Lana provided him with virtual eyes by projected the schematics against the wall. He followed the map and grabbed hold of the first panel. With gritted teeth, he hauled the thing up, dropping it at their feet with a loud thunk.
    He rotated his shoulders a few times before going back in, trying in vain to ignore the searing pain. He got the second one halfway up before his shoulder gave out and he had to switch arms.
    Lana toed one of the panels while he massaged his muscles. “So, these two things have to connect and separate.”
    “Yeah.”
    “No offense, but you’re struggling already. How am I supposed to lift up my end?”
    “You don’t have a choice. I need your help, Lana. I wish I could do it alone, but I, uh, left my medicine back on base. I’m not burning on all thrusters.”
    “Unbelievable.”
    “We were in a bit of a rush.”
    “Cyprus!”
    “If this hadn’t happened, we’d have made it back with time to spare. We still can.”
    She shook her head and circled the square metal boxes. “I’m about done with you and your—”
    “We don’t have time for this, Lana.”
    “Fine. Later. As for this, maybe I don’t have to lift it. The two just need to touch, briefly.”
    “What are you thinking,” he asked, hands clasped behind his neck.
    “We leave them on the floor. We push them together and together pull one back. One remains stationary the whole time. We take a break and together return them to the housing.”
    Lifting up was one thing. Putting them back into very precise places would require more strength than he had at the moment. He wished for his meds. Yes, they were Kin meds, but they made him the best he could be. He’d never miss a dose again. Breathless and with his upper back quivering, he flopped down and leaned against the rear of the backrest. “Toss me a few calorie tabs.” She joined him instead, sliding in and leaning on his shoulder. It hurt too much to shrug her off. “Lana, there’s a chance they’re still able to watch this.”
    “Small chance. And there’s an even bigger one that there’s an audio recorder here still working. I don’t care. Do you?”
    He should. It could jeopardize what he’s worked so hard for all his years. But Lana needed him more than he needed OSA. Hell, she was about to save the universe. She could do whatever she damned well pleased. The decision – the question – of what mattered most in his life tilted so fast that his aching head spun. He traced the outline of her jaw and brought her over until his lips hovered over hers. “Nope.”
    He punctuated it with a kiss, then held out one of the meat-flavored calorie tabs.
    “You want to know what’s weird,” she said still chewing, “I’m not scared. I should be. I’m in a shuttle that may run out of oxygen with a man who’s in terrible danger, about to piss off the biggest corporation in the solar system and I’m not scared. Kinda happy, minus all the bad bits. Am I oversharing?”
    “Yes.”
    “Oh.”
    “But I need to hear it. It’s good to know what you’re fighting for. That’s the last lesson of training, by the way. Let’s try to make it home, okay? We’ll deal with the consequences of everything else when we get there.”
    “If we get there.”
    “Way to keep positive.” He kissed her again and arm in arm, they walked over to the panels and rehearsed the plan. They’d push, the boxes would connect and they’d pull, reversing the polarity. Easy.
    Kinda, sorta, confident they could both do what they needed to, they turned their heads