Edge of Dark by Brenda Cooper

the lava river that plunged into the sea. “It’s almost as if the planet breathes,” she mused.
    He laughed. “It does. Lym is a living thing with many parts.”
    She looked startled. “Really? Do you think that?”
    â€œAbsolutely.”
    â€œDo you ever want to leave?” she asked him.
    â€œNever. I can’t imagine not being here.”
    She wondered what it would be like to truly love a place. “I can hardly imagine going back home.”
    â€œYou like Lym that much?”
    â€œNo. Well, yes. I’m enchanted with Lym. But I hate the Diamond Deep that much.”

CHAPTER TEN
    CHRYSTAL
    A small shudder ran through the station, and then another. Chrystal forced her dry eyes open. Darkness greeted her. She began to wonder if the lights still worked, if they had been turned off in some central place and if anyone would turn them on. The pull against her body had lessened to normal. She stretched her toes and wriggled her fingers.
    The last time she woke, Yi had also been awake. She had mumbled, “We’re alive,” her voice scratchy through the tinny suit microphone.
    His voice had also sounded as dry and cracked. “So far, so good.”
    How many hours had passed between then and now? Her body felt stiff and chafed where the suit had rubbed bare skin. Her thinking seemed slowed by the sleep-drugs, as if a haze still hung inside her brain. She must be hungry, but thirst overrode everything else, growing more acute as she recognized it. She tried for a sip of water and got air through the valve.
    She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, forcing the kind of calm her yoga practice gave her. If there were more drugs, she didn’t want them now.
    The thick darkness beat at her composure, a restless counter to the calm of her yoga breathing.
    She sucked at the water valve again. It burbled, giving her air and a slight bit of stale water that wet her lips enough she could call out the names of her family.
    â€œKatherine.”
    Nothing.
    â€œJason.”
    A grunt. Good.
    â€œYi.”
    Nothing.
    The suit had simple display capabilities. She rolled her eyes to flip it on. The pale amber lights of the readout scrolled through the basics twice before she absorbed it all. Breathable air. Cold, but only three degrees colder than usual. Pressure normal for the High Sweet Home. She thought that through. No hull breach. By now, the station would be conserving power and sending or saving almost all of it for the life-support systems. Air first, heat (reduced) second, light third, and then food. Up was still up, so the gravgens worked.
    The display changed, catching her attention. Suit stats. It was nearly out of fluids, nutrients, and medicines. She decided that the suit wanted her to recharge it. It seemed easier to lie there and die inside of the stinking suit.
    â€œI’m taking these damned straps off.” It took her stiff hands four tries to release the first buckle. There were only three other movements to getting free, all of them painful after being so still for so long.
    Next to her, Jason also freed himself. They stood slowly, leaning on each other, into each other. Her legs tingled.
    She tugged her helmet off and breathed deeply. The air smelled stale, but not dangerous. She stripped the bulky suit down to her waist, letting it hang there. The arms flopped against her knees as she inched carefully across the room and fumbled for the light switch. It clicked on under her fingers, the sudden bright making her flinch.
    Jason’s hair had slicked to his head in mostly damp purple streaks, and bits of it had tangled at the ends. His gray-blue eyes looked wide and shocked. He peeled his suit away slowly, his nose wrinkling at his own scents. He reached for her cheek. “We’re alive.”
    The room looked intact. One of the fans screeched and a motor whined more loudly than usual. “There was so much noise, I expected more damage.”
    Jason