Death on Venus by Ben Bova

We had done simulations of the EVA procedure a dozen times, and I had suited up each time. I thought it was silly, like children playing dress-up, but Duchamp had insisted that we pull on the cumbersome suits and boots and helmets and backpacks even though we were only going to play-act in Truax’s virtual reality chamber.

Now the crew was gathered at the main airlock, busily getting into their spacesuits. It looked to me like the changing room in some athletic team’s locker, or a beachside cabana. I paid intense attention to every detail of the procedure, though. This time it would be for real. A mistake here could be fatal. Leggings first, then the thickly lined boots. Slide into the torso and wiggle your arms through the sleeves. Pull the bubble helmet over your head, seal it to the neck ring. Then work the gloves over your fingers. The gloves had a bony exoskeleton on their backs, powered by tiny servomotors that amplified one’s muscle power tenfold. There were also servos built into the suit’s joints: shoulders, elbows, knees.

Duchamp herself hung the life-support rig on my back and connected the air hose and power lines. The backpack felt like a ton weighing on my shoulders.

I heard the suit’s air fans whine into life, like distant gnats, and felt cool air flowing softly across my face. The suit was actually roomy inside, although the leggings chafed a little against my thighs.

Marguerite, Rodriguez and the four other crew members were all fully suited. Even Dr. Waller, our rotund, dark-skinned Jamaican physician with the sunny disposition, was frowning slightly with impatience as they waited for me to finish up.

“Sorry I’m so slow,” I muttered.

They nodded from inside their fishbowl helmets. Marguerite even managed a little smile.

“All right,” Duchamp said at last, once she was convinced my suit was properly sealed. “Radio check.” Her voice was muffled slightly by the helmet.

One by one the crew members called to the EVA controller up on the bridge. I heard each of them in my helmet earphones.

“Mr. Humphries?” the controller called.

“I hear you,” I said.

“Radio check complete. Captain Duchamp, you and your crew are go for transfer.”

With Duchamp directing us, we went through the airlock hatch, starting with Rodriguez. Then the doctor and, one by one, the three technicians. I followed Marguerite. Captain Duchamp grasped my arm as I stepped carefully over the sill of the hatch into the blank metal womb of the airlock.

Once she swung the inner hatch shut I felt as if I were in a bare metal coffin. I started to breathe faster, felt my heart pumping harder. Stop it! I commanded myself. Calm down before you hyperventilate.

But when the outer hatch started to slide open I almost panicked.

There was nothing out there! They expected me to step out into total emptiness. I tried to find some stars in that black infinity, something, anything to reassure me, but through the deep tinting of my helmet I could not see any.

“Hold on.” Rodriguez’s familiar voice calmed me a little. But only a little. Then I saw the former astronaut–now an astronaut once again–slide into view, framed by the outline of the open hatch.

“Gimme your tether,” Rodriguez said, extending a gloved hand toward me. It looked like a robot reaching for me. I couldn’t see his face at all. Even though the bubble helmets gave us fine visibility from inside them, their protective sunshield tinting made them look like mirrors from the outside. All I could see in Rodriguez’s helmet was the blank fishbowl reflection of my own helmet.

“C’mon, Mr. Humphries. Gimme your tether. I’ll attach it to the trolley. Otherwise you’ll swing away.”

I remembered the drill from the simulations we had gone through. I unclipped one end of my safety tether from its hook at the waist of my suit and handed it mutely to Rodriguez. He disappeared from my view. There was nothing beyond the airlock hatch that I could see, nothing but a gaping, all-encompassing emptiness.

“Step out now, come on,” Rodriguez’s voice coaxed in my earphones. “You’re okay now. Your tether’s connected to the trolley and I’m right here.”

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