Darae’s back pressed a little more firmly into the seat.
There was no sound of breaking free. Raon’s rails moved sideways beyond the window as Narae oriented itself. The restraint around her body told her what the vessel was doing before anything else. She did not push off the wall as she would in an axial passage.
There was no need. The moving floor carried her.
“Acceleration phase. Remain in your seats.”
Mujin’s voice filled the cabin.
She looked at the cargo monitor. The cartridge box was secure. Both temporary sorbent canisters remained in place. Only the coolant pump pouch at the back seemed slightly tilted.
She moved her head without rising.
The white mark on the pouch no longer aligned with the mark on its support.
Tap.
The pouch struck the edge of the support. One side of the restraint they had both tested at the port had developed slack.
“The pump pouch at the back has moved. I can’t reach it from my seat.”
Mujin did not turn. He checked the monitor and halted the planned increase in acceleration. With the thrust reduced, the pouch pressed less firmly against its support. Having moved, it did not return to its place by itself.
“Recording a restraint failure. Stay seated.”
Darae curled her fingertips into her palms. If she stood just a little, she might catch it. But release her own body and there would be another object to catch.
Seo kept his restraint fastened too.
“Fitting protection remains closed. No indication of leakage.”
They began with the reports they could make. Mujin sent their status and revised flight conditions to the Safety Office. They were still near the port, with the relay available. Even with a delay, the plan retained enough margin to turn back.
Darae looked at the green marker on the monitor.
The green had not lied. She had asked it to mean too much. Holding against a pull at the port did not verify every direction of force under acceleration.
After transitioning to free flight, Mujin specified where they could move. Switching off the engine did not stop the vessel. Narae continued along its planned orbit, carrying Darae and the cargo with it.
She moved only along the permitted handholds. From the other side, Seo stopped the pouch turning farther. When he pulled hard, his shoulder moved the opposite way. He steadied his own body against a handhold first.
The cushioning beneath the support had compressed on one side.
A material intended to absorb transport shocks had compressed more than expected under sustained pressure in the direction of acceleration. The strap had not broken. Compression had left enough slack for the pouch to move.
Darae pressed her lips together.
“We didn’t test enough directions at the port.”
Seo inspected the outside of the pouch.
“No visible damage to the part yet. Let me inspect it, then we’ll secure it again.”
She wanted to hear that things were fine more than she wanted to hear she had been wrong. Instead, she asked what exactly was fine. The pump’s exterior and protection. That said nothing about the vessel’s schedule.
They opened the outer inspection seal. Seo checked the part while Darae recorded the opening time and replacement seal number. The inner fittings stayed protected.
They reinforced the restraint to suit the support and vessel attachment points, then reported to Mujin and returned to their seats. He used a limited check maneuver and the monitor to confirm the load stayed still. The Safety Office received the update too.
A delayed departure was better than a departure with an erased mistake.
Darae recorded the restraint recheck beside her name. She did not leave only the name of the port attendant who had done the first inspection. The people who assessed and corrected it aboard went into the record too.
“The lost-property clerk nearly made some lost property in flight.”
Mujin kept his eyes on his display.
“You reported it first. That kept it cargo.”
She could not laugh, then let out a short breath. She heard an instruction to report first next time, rather than praise.
A revised approach time appeared, a little later than planned. Fuel and return reserve remained within the approved limits. Mujin said they needed fresh conditions from S-6 to account for the delay.
The regular relay window opened.
Haeseong began with the necessary readings. Oxygen supply and pressure maintained. Backup sorbent capacity: 49 percent. Temperature had risen a little. After checking the time interval and carbon-dioxide change, Seo said they would continue with the support plan.
“Why are you delayed?” Haeseong asked.
Darae took the transmitter.
“We corrected one cargo restraint aboard. Our technician inspected the part and found no indication of damage. We’re sending the revised arrival estimate.”
Her throat dried as she spoke. She wanted to call it a minor check, to avoid worrying them. But the people waiting needed to know the reason for the delay.
Haeseong did not answer for a while.
“Get it properly secured before you come. We’re clearing a place to receive it.”
That made her feel more sorry and less hurried at the same time. The people waiting were not asking them only to be fast.
Maru supplied information beside him. An adult operated the transmitter while the apprentice read out the new interface photograph numbers. The change of duties agreed during the last call was actually happening.
Darae attached her pen to its loop instead of letting it go. One small mistake need not make every object frightening. It should tell her more precisely what to look at next.
When the acceleration phase ended, the pressure against her body faded. Her sleeve rose slowly. The pump pouch, so heavy at the port, looked innocent on the monitor again. But the compressed cushion and new seal number remained. A force ending did not erase what it had done.
Earth’s edge appeared outside.
At first it seemed an enormous wall, then clouds passing below the window. Trying to decide on a single up and down made her nauseated. She shifted her gaze to the fixed cabin marker from the briefing.
“Reporting how I feel. Slight nausea. Consciousness and breathing normal.”
Mujin acknowledged. Seo pointed to the pouch within her reach. Darae did not pretend to be fine and lean closer to the screen. To deliver the cargo well, its clerk had to remain fit for work too.
After a while, the nausea eased. She looked outside again without following the moving clouds. A blue line passed along the glass. What had been background from the office window now showed her the scale of their movement.
A message arrived from Raon.
The person collecting the sock was running late and would come tomorrow. The duty clerk added that it was not urgent. Between the reports, Darae read the sentence twice.
Ordinary arrangements for collecting things were still being made there.
She sent one line back.
Please tell the left one to wait.
Only afterward did she remember deciding not to record a sock’s family relationships. This was outside the remarks field, so it would do.
Seo marked the sequence of assistance on the S-6 diagram. Darae tried reading it upside down, then turned her terminal. He did not take the screen from her; he first explained which side was inside.
“I wish drawings had a floor in space.”
“That’s why we agree a reference orientation first. Including the other vessel’s reference.”
They checked the handover handles again. An orientation convenient aboard Narae might be awkward to catch from S-6. They made the necessary labels visible on both sides, allowing for changes once the final approach attitude was set.
Darae looked around the cabin. Faint handprints marked the walls. Beneath the grips, repeated contact had worn away the coating. It was unfamiliar only to someone aboard for the first time. Other people had returned inside this room many times.
The marks did not suddenly make the vessel stronger. They showed what people had added to make it work for them. Beside Seo’s seat was a handwritten tool count. Two entries had been added below a printed list.
“More lost property?”
“After a rescue, one tool always ends up in a different pouch. Get out a new one before finding it, and the collection keeps growing.”
“You could open a branch of our office.”
He tapped the pouch. It made a small sound, but the tools did not strike one another. She remembered it. It differed from the pump’s earlier tap. Secure objects told you through their response as well as the colors of their markers.
She changed the order of the checks on her terminal. After checking the green marker came inspection of the support itself and slack in each direction. Writing a revision could not undo the incident. It could reduce the chance that the next person would depart trusting only a color.
When the light outside went out, three faces appeared in the window. They were not all looking the same way. Mujin watched the flight display, Seo the system diagram, Darae the manifest. Their separate small screens were necessary to reach the same place.
Mujin reported the remaining flight phases. Fuel already burned would not come back. He had revised the plan to include the restraint delay, but did not make up the time by shrinking the return reserve.
Darae looked at the gray field below the fuel sheet.
She was beginning to understand that keeping something in reserve was work too. An empty berth. Spare fuel. An unfilled recipient field. Places that had to remain available so someone could arrive.
A little over an hour after departure, communications briefly dropped. Mujin explained that it was the expected line-of-sight transition. She wrote her questions and waited. An unknown silence and an expected silence sounded the same, but felt different in her body.
When reception resumed, Maru’s voice came briefly through.
“I think we can see Narae’s light.”
Mujin did not confirm a visible light as his vessel at once. He matched the agreed signal with the observations. Darae began turning to the window, then looked at her small display instead.
The candidate object grew.
Beyond S-6’s cylinder, the distant main habitat emerged from shadow. Five modules clustered like a folded flower. Small, flat radiators showed between them.
She remembered the ledger marked RECOVERY COMPLETE.
On paper, those five modules were a home that no longer existed. Now Narae’s observation display was finding its windows one by one.
Blue cloth hung at an angle across one of them. A curtain absent from the retired-module drawings. Before Darae could ask for magnification, another light appeared at the bottom of the display.
Three acknowledgment flashes from S-6.