Hearing Liam call for the next person, they all turned to each other and stepped back at the same time.
The movement was perfectly synchronized, as though they'd choreographed it—eight people all deciding simultaneously that maybe someone else should volunteer first.
The vast expanse of Antarctic ice around them suddenly felt very small, and the fact that their exosuits could theoretically protect them from anything short of a direct nuclear blast provided surprisingly little comfort.
Alex broke the silence with the question everyone was thinking. "Are you going to throw us like you did with Matt?"
His voice carried a careful neutrality through the suit's communication system, and it had the kind of tone someone used when they were trying very hard not to sound accusatory while asking if they were about to be launched across a frozen wasteland.
Liam's expression was genuinely reassuring. "Not likely. And you don't have to worry—Matt didn't feel any pain."
