"Dehydrated potato pancakes…" he choked out. "I'm beginning to think the rest of the people in the Yuri were the lucky ones."
"Not even in jest," Damian said. "Touch wood when you say that."
"I doubt if there is any in this capsule, if you don't count the latkes."
When they had finished, Chuck counted the stores, then opened another lid to check the reading on the meter attached to the oxygen tanks. He tried the radio again, but there was only the waterfall of static. At the end of an hour he did his observations once more, then computations.
"Well, I'll be damned.” he said.
"Is something wrong?" Damian asked.
"Let me check again."
Only after he had done everything a third time did he speak to them. There was no humor in his voice now.
"I'll lay it right on the line. We're in trouble. We had the luck to be behind the explosion — in relation to the ship's direction of travel, that is — and it had the effect of canceling a good part of our momentum."
"I don't understand what you are talking about." Helena said firmly.
"Then I'll simplify it. If the ship hadn't blown it would have reached Earth in about two days. But this capsule doesn't have the same speed anymore. It's going to be three to four weeks before we get near enough to Earth to send a message and be picked up."
"So what is wrong with that? It will be uncomfortable certainly, the lack of privacy here with you two men—"
"Will you let me finish? It will be more than uncomfortable, it will be deadly. We have food — though we could go without eating for that long. The water is recycled so there is no shortage there. But these capsules are too small to carry CO2 regenerations. Our oxygen will run out in about two weeks. We'll be a week dead before we can send a message that anyone can hear and act on."
"Is there no way out?" Damian asked. "I don't know. If we—"
"This is nonsense!" Helena burst in. "We can radio the moon, Earth, they'll send ships."
"It's not that easy," Chuck said. "I know what ships there are on the moon and I know their range. We're practically outside their zone of operation now, not forgetting the fact that we can't even contact them. If the solar storm lasts even a few hours more we have to write them off. They won't even be able to pick up our signals by that time. After that it is the long haul to Earth, contacting one of the satellite stations, waiting while they plot our position and a ship can reach us. Three weeks absolute minimum, probably four."
Helena began to cry then, and he didn't try to stop her. It was something to cry about. He waited until she had finished and then, since neither of the others had seemed to see the obvious answer, he told them, in a flat and toneless voice.
"The amount of air that three people breathe in two weeks is the same amount that two people breathe in three weeks. It might even last a little longer with proper care,"
There was a long moment of silence before Damian spoke. "You do realize what you are saying? There is no other way out of this?"
"I've gone over everything, every possibility. This is the only way that some of us stand a chance. Sure death for three. A fifty-fifty chance for two. Not good odds, but better than no odds."
"But — someone will have to die to give the others a chance to live?"
"Yes, putting it simply, that's the way it will have to be."
Damian took a deep breath. "And the one to die won't be you. You're needed to navigate and to work the radio—"
"Not at all. Though I confess to a sneaking wish that it really were that way. The navigation is done. It will take me about ten minutes to show you both how to operate the radio and call for help. There is unlimited power from the solar cells so the signal can go out continuously once the solar storm is over."
"That is — well — very decent of you. You could have told us differently and we would have believed you. Makes it a bit easier on me, if you know what I mean. For a moment there, with Miss Ty-blewski out of it it looked like I was going to be the reluctant volunteer. So it is you or I…"
"No, one of the three of us," Chuck said.
"I'm sorry, you can't possibly mean that a woman—"
"I can and do. This is no game, Damian, of women and children first into the lifeboat. This is death, one hundred percent certain that I am talking about. All lives are equal. We are all in this together. I'm sure Helena appreciates your gesture, but I don't think she is the kind of person who wants to take advantage of it. Am I right?" he asked, turning to the girl.
"You're a pig," she hissed. "A fat, stupid pig."
"I'm wrong," Chuck said flatly, facing Damian. "I'll issue the order and take the responsibility. You can both sign it as witnesses, under protest if you like…"
"You want to kill me, I know, to save yourself," Helena shouted. "You don't care—"
"Please, don't," Damian said, taking her by the arms, but she shook him off, pushing him so hard he hit the opposite side of the capsule.
"Who do you think you are to set yourself up as a judge of life and death!"
