The Final Six (The Final Six #1) - Alexandra Monir Page 0,31

of our team, Suki, topples inside. Sokolov’s eyes flit between the open hatch door and my teammate.

“Didn’t you hear what I said about closing the hatch, Suki?”

Suki’s face drains of color. “Y-yes. I did.”

“And yet you were the last one into the airlock and failed to follow my express command.” The general’s voice is ice cold. I have a sinking feeling in my stomach as I watch her stare Suki down.

“But I—it’s only because I thought you were going to—”

The general grabs Suki by the shoulders and pushes her toward the hatch. “Go back in the tunnel.”

Suki eyes the general nervously but does as she’s told, crawling through the hatch. Once in the tunnel, she presses her hands against the open door, her mouth forming a question—just as the general slams the door shut from the inside, barely missing Suki’s fingers. The airlock chamber turns dead silent.

“What’s going on?” Suki’s muffled voice calls from outside the steel-plated door. “How do I get out of here?”

“You don’t,” the general says. “Not until your next training period in thirty minutes.”

“What?” Suki’s voice rises in panic. “But there’s hardly any air in here. I won’t be able to breathe!”

“Imagine that feeling magnified to the hundredth power,” General Sokolov says coolly. “That is what will happen if you or any of your teammates use the airlock improperly in the vacuum of space.” She turns to face the rest of us. “You’re all receiving a crucial lesson, one that will save your lives if it sticks with you.”

And then, proceeding as if Suki weren’t trapped in a confined space behind the hatch door, the general moves deeper into the chamber, motioning for us to follow. But I can’t concentrate, my mind back in the tunnel with my teammate. I can tell Naomi feels the same way, and as General Sokolov shows us the equipment lock where we’ll purify our space suits, I catch her sidling away from the group, edging her way toward the hatch door. What is she about to do?

Instinctively, I take a few steps closer to her, while staying within the general’s line of sight. Naomi presses her face to the hatch and begins to speak.

“Can you hear me, Suki? It’s Naomi. We need to keep you relaxed, and your pulse even. As long as you don’t panic and deplete your oxygen levels, you have enough air in there to survive for more than double the time. Close your eyes—let’s see if we can trick your consciousness into falling asleep . . .”

Something tugs at my chest as I watch her, risking a punishment of her own to help a girl she only just met. I glance behind me at General Sokolov, in the middle of demonstrating the space suit purification mechanism, and I catch her gaze flickering in Naomi’s direction too. But the general doesn’t react. She simply watches Naomi out of the corner of her eye while continuing with the lecture, an unreadable expression on her face.

Lark is waiting on the Mission Floor when we emerge from the space capsule, and she zips us from the Pontus mock-up to our second training session on Level 4. I can smell the chlorine even before the elevator doors open, and my muscles clench on cue. Time to compete.

“For years, this floor was home to the Neutral Buoyancy Lab,” Lark says, taking us through a long white hallway. “NASA engineers built an underwater mock-up of the International Space Station, and astronauts-in-training, like myself, would wear neutral-buoyancy suits to simulate the microgravity of space while we practiced for our EVAs. But when the Europa Mission was approved, Dr. Takumi had this place redesigned and repurposed for something else: preparing the Final Six for the underwater operations necessary to terraform Europa for human settlement.”

She pushes open a set of double doors, and my mouth falls open. From the colossal pool and elevated diving boards to the dozens of countries’ flags dotting the walls, it’s like we’re inside one of my old Olympic dreams. But when we step closer, I spot the differences. I’ve never seen a swimming pool this deep—it appears almost fathomless—and sitting about fifty or sixty feet underwater is a massive block of ice. The ice is covered in crisscrossing red ridges . . . just like the surface of Europa.

A man in a diving wet suit crosses the floor toward us, and Lark gives him a salute before taking a seat in the stands.

“Welcome, finalists. I’m Lieutenant Barnes, United States Navy SEAL