Orbit: The Apogee Problem

Three miles above the Earth, the laws of physics are starting to unspool. And the crew of the Astraea isn't alone—they're surrounded by themselves. When communications drop silent at the Astraea ground-monitoring hub, Commander Elias Finch and Dr. Clara Thorne expect an orbital decay or a solar flare. Instead, they discover Orbit-7—an uncrewed research satellite—stationed twelve meters off their port airlock. It shouldn't have the fuel to be there, and it certainly shouldn't be growing. Wrapped in a calcified, organic mass that mimics bone, the payload has mutated, breathing silently into the vacuum. Then the Earth vanishes beneath them, replaced by a boundless ocean of still mercury and stars arranged in impossibly perfect geometry. When a frostbitten hand taps against the command module’s window, wearing an Astraea suit with Elias’s own name on the tag, the nightmare becomes absolute. As the station’s systems override themselves and the airlock cycles open to a hallway of hanging space suits—each bearing his face, his name, and his voice—Elias must confront a horrifying truth. Orbit-7 was never a satellite. It was an anchor. And whatever is pulling them in has been waiting across four thousand identical cycles for him to finally look down.