She answered his question. “My mother was a high school science teacher, and my father teaches biology at UC-Berkeley. They bought me a small telescope for my tenth birthday, and I fell in love with the stars.”
She told him how she’d taken that telescope out every night the sky was clear, her father standing beside her as she made observations. “It was all silly stuff—lunar craters that looked like faces or new constellations that I invented. My father was so patient, standing there with me each night, helping me become proficient with the telescope.”
“He must be proud of you.”
She nodded, feeling strangely light-headed, her fingers tingling. She’d never flown in an unpressurized aircraft before and hadn’t known to expect this. If the others could deal with it, so could she. “My brother is a propulsion engineer for NASA. We’re a family of geeks, I guess. How about you? How did you end up in Greenland?”
“I’ve always loved the outdoors. My father was a forester, and I worked for him during the summer when I was a teenager. My mother taught English in the primary school. I went to thegymnasium—that’s our high school—in the math and science line, and then studied mechanical engineering in Copenhagen for two years. I needed to do something more physical, so I left the university and joined the Danish Army.”
She listened, his accent soft and charming, as he told her about his time in the Huntsman Corps, the Danish Army’s special forces unit. But his words seemed to slow down, her thoughts unraveling.
Black spots.
They danced before her eyes.
It was hard to listen, so hard to stay awake.
“Samantha?” Thor’s face swam before hers. He looked angry. “She’s hypoxic.”
He pulled her mask off her head and replaced it with his own, holding it over her nose and mouth, reclining her seatback. “Just breathe, Samantha, deep and even.”
Someone shouted to the pilot that her O2 wasn’t working.
The reply was lost to her as her eyes drifted shut, her mind hovering on the brink of unconsciousness.
* * *
“Nej, for helvede.”No, damn it!“She’s losing consciousness.”
Why hadn’t he noticed she was in trouble sooner?
The pilot’s voice came over the PA once more. “I brought six tanks—enough to get us all there and back, plus two spares.”
Jones removed his mask, unbuckled his safety belt. “I’ll go check the tanks.”
He started toward the back of the plane, where the O2 tanks hooked into the system, his steps unsteady thanks to almost nonstop turbulence.
Segal stood, too. “I’ll help.”
Thor focused on Samantha. They needed her mind to be clear when they landed. Without her, this mission would fail.
Seconds ticked by, and still, she didn’t open her eyes.
Was his oxygen also not working?
No, her color was starting to come back now, her breathing steady. Then her eyes fluttered open, confusion on her pretty face.
“What…?”
“You became hypoxic. How do you feel?”
“Headache. A little dizzy.”
He realized he was hovering over her, only inches away from her face—close enough to kiss her. Some part of him liked that idea—the same part of him that had liked it when she’d grabbed his hand.
Hva’ fanden? What the fuck?
He sat back, irritated with himself. “You should have said something.”