For daemonmuses.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Fifteen minutes ago, the helmet and suit had belonged to a dead man. Had been on a dead man. Had been the clothing a man died in, sometime between two hundred years ago and now. That was fine. She'd worn dead men's clothing before. The tan and black uniform she had on now had been on a dead woman when she found it. Wearing dead people's clothing didn't bother Ellen.

But this was a spacesuit, which meant that what looked like bagginess was going to be much more close-fitting when she put it on. The helmet was big, yes, but all the places she'd hoped were empty space to give room for turning her head? Were padded, the better to promote astronaut safety and prevent head trauma. Every single thing about the suit was designed for snugness.

"Saoshyant," Ellen said, fighting the rising panic and not entirely keeping it out of her voice, "where do I put you? There's nowhere for Colonel Hartigan's daemon in this suit. Where do I put you?"

The grasshoper mouse daemon scrambled down from her shouder, tiny claws barely even palpable through the sleeve of the unfamiliar uniform. "Let me get a better look at it," he said. "You may have missed something."

"Okay," Ellen said, and, "Okay," again. If Saoshyant wanted to get in there and see, so much the better. All she could think was- I have to go OUTSIDE. I have to go outside EVERYTHING EVER. I have to WALK OUT OF THE SPACESHIP and FIND SOMETHING ON THE OUTSIDE. And if I fall, it's FOREVER and EVER. There's no walls anywhere, not for a million miles. And I have to go OUT in it.

She put both hands over her face and tried not to hyperventilate. It wasn't working very well. She was half convinced she could feel the infinity of space pressing in on them....

There was a hand on her shoulder. She shuddered sharply, twisting around at once. It was only Dr. Tercorien, his face as worried as his little spider daemon's. "Are you okay?" he asked gently.

"No," said Ellen, and swallowed. "I'm not. It's huge out there."

"I know," said Dr. Tercorien, and squeezed her shoulder. "I know. I wish I could help, but-"

"You're too tall for the suit. I know." Ellen glanced back at the suit; there was a lump scampering up and down one of the legs as Saoshyant investigated. "And Mr. Paulson wouldn't know what to look for, and Somah's got that ... stripey dog thing daemon and she won't be parted from him even for a moment, and the samurai doesn't speak English. So it's me."

Dr. Tercorien- Elliot- nodded.

Ellen swallowed. "What if Saoshyant doesn't fit?" she whispered. "I'm gonna have to leave him here!"

"Maybe- maybe it won't come to that," said Elliot. "He's clever. He'll find something. . .. right?"

Ellen gave him a look.

"I mean." Elliot sheepishly faked a cough. "He'll find something, for sure."

"You're not helping."

"I'm sorry."

Ellen sighed and drew a hand over her face. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't've said that."

"No, no, you're entitled," said Elliot. "The whole idea of space is kind of terrifying to me. Maybe not as much as it is to you, but I get the willies just thinking about it. So you're not alone."

"Ellen?" came Saoshyant's voice. She whipped aorund to find him again; the mouse daemon was huddled up in Colonel Hartigan's helmet. "Bad news..."