Firstclass Pov Online

I pull myself toward the airlock. Hand over hand. Breathing in, breathing out. The Earth rises behind me, blue and green and white and so beautiful it makes my chest hurt. I don’t cry this time. I’m out of tears.

And I am so tired of being first.

I’m First Class Engineer Saito, serial number 7783-K. I’m thirty-two thousand kilometers above the Pacific, and I’m supposed to be replacing a thermal coupling on Panel J-9. But I’ve been staring at my wrench for three minutes now, watching it float in front of my visor, because I’ve run out of reasons to turn it. firstclass pov

I unstick my glove from the hull. “On my way, Commander.”

Halfway there, I stop.

A crackle in my helmet speaker. “Saito, this is Solstice. Status report.”

But I say, “Negative, Commander. All systems go.” I pull myself toward the airlock

There’s a rhythm to spacewalking. A liturgy. Clip in. Check tether. Turn bolt one-quarter. Wait for the click. Turn again. Count breaths. Don’t think about the fact that you’re wearing a flimsy bag of nylon and hope between your skin and the most hostile environment imaginable.