Helis made it out of her hazmat gear, through the showers, back into civvies and almost to her office without talking to anyone, but of course Isla found her at the top of the last flight of stairs.
“How’d it go?” Isla asked.
Helis was, as ever, annoyed to have to look up so far to make eye contact. “Don’t worry, I got your frilly blue weed things, they’re in quarantine.”
“I meant for you.” Isla was doing her best to look concerned rather than nosey, but the veneer was thin. “Your first time since Daoud, and all that.”
“It was fine, and all that.” Helis managed to slide past Isla, who didn’t follow her. Small mercies.
Safe in her office, she burst into tears.
*****
The mission had started all right — this planet was as beautiful as always, all reds and purples. Daoud’s replacement seemed obedient enough — stepping where instructed, doing nothing stupid. But Helis had been unable to lose the shaking from her hands. The boy had had to collect most of the samples.
Helis put three digestives on a plate and half-arsed her mission report. The boy had been obliging, the samples had been collected, nobody had had a sudden reaction to a mysterious pile of goo and died before Helis could get the epipen into his thigh, yadda yadda yadda.
She paused for a long time looking at the free-text field for any other comments.
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