“Bring the backpack?”
“Yes.”
“Are you okay?”
“Weak.”
“It's going to take her a little while to learn how to move normally,” Calvin said.
“How long?”
“We don't know. Some experts say not until she gets out of the suit. Calvin says she's feisty enough to recover faster.”
Kyle talked to Lark. “Can you put your legs around me?”
She used to do that when she was a kid. He tucked his arm under her butt so she was sitting against his waist at the side, and she put her arms around his neck.
Well, he had one hand free. Now what? He shifted Lark to the front of him, sat on the stem he had climbed up, and slid. It was slower than walking—the suit material dragged wrong against the stem. The risk was real—if he wore out the suit material there was no fixing it up here. He stopped them, trying to think of a better way. Henry would think his own way out of a problem.
“Sit on a leaf, Daddy.”
It worked. He cut off a long thin piece of leaf, and tied it between his legs and up around his waist. He felt like he was wearing a diaper. The surface was slicker on the creeper stem. It held up until just before they got down to the first big knot, when the leaf shredded under him and he carried Lark to the knot, walking carefully, afraid that he'd launch them into space. Lark switched around to his back and he climbed carefully over the tangle of stems and vines. Cramps were making her whimper.
On the other side, he cut another leaf. He said, “The leaves are a good idea, honey.”
“I know the Styx.”
It took five hours to get back to the habitat. Lark gained more ability to move, and her hold on him was less tenuous. She still couldn't stand or climb on her own.
When they reached the habitat, it was empty. Kyle had been afraid he'd find Henry dead in the habitat. Or that Henry had left his suit for Lark and jettisoned himself into vacuum and death. The empty habitat was unnerving. He stuffed Lark into the habitat without repressurizing it, leaving her in her suit. He went out and refilled his suit's reservoirs, and sloshing full of sweet broth and water, he ducked back into the tent. Now he pressurized it and peeled Lark's suit off of her. It actually stuck to her calves, ripping layers of skin off so they looked raw. He took his own suit off, and fed Lark on broth and water. She drank more than he expected.
“Where's Henry?” she asked.
“I don't know. Calvin, will you tell me yet?”
“Nope. Sleep.”
Kyle barely got the words “damn you” out before he was, in fact, asleep.
* * *
The next thing he noticed was the habitat shaking. Lark was able to help him get her suited. She only screamed twice, once for each raw leg. They depressurized, and Henry tumbled in the door, carrying the suit he'd modified for Lark.
“You went all the way down there?” Kyle asked.
Henry sounded weak. “Someone had to do each thing. I knew you had the brains to get her safely.”
Kyle grinned. They repressurized and stripped out of their suits. Lark poured herself into Henry's arms, finally looking energetic. Henry looked very proud of himself. His smile was bigger than usual. Kyle stole a peek at Henry's vitals. His blood pressure was way too high, his respiration was shallow and fast. “Sleep, Henry.”
Eight full hours later Kyle opened his eyes. Lark was crying, looking down at Henry.
“He's not moving,” she sobbed.
“Calvin, what have we got for Henry?”
“Sleeping. Maybe in a coma. He might have had a stroke. We can't tell from here. Doesn't matter—the verdict is he can't possibly make it. Down will be at least half as hard as up.”
Lark crawled over to Kyle and cried in his lap. Kyle patted her head and found he was crying too. Ideas and condolences and tributes started coming in. Kyle turned off his radio; Henry would prefer silence. Besides—he wasn't dead. But how were they going to get him down?
“Remember when you sat on the leaves?” Lark said.
“Sure.”
“Do we have rope?”
Kyle winced, thinking of the supply basket. “Calvin, do we have rope?”
Calvin's voice. “They refilled the basket.”
Lark's backpack had a better knife in it. She led Kyle out to cut off whole leaves. “These are bigger than I needed to get down the stem,” Kyle said.
“They're not for you. They're for Henry. They'll cushion him,” Lark explained. “We're going to use the spaces, not the stems.”
“Huh?”
