It's been three weeks. We've been working for hours on end, and now we're in our hotel room. It's fairly basic, but it has everything we need. But it wasn't built to last, which is a very clear message.

"I think I've fixed the overheating problem in the transport module."

We've been doing our best to talk discreetly. Volda is always listening. So far, it doesn't appear to be suspicious, but for all I know, it understands exactly what we're talking about.

"I asked Volda to recover a few components from the rover, and used them to modify a testing unit with a pressurised oxygen circuit," she continues. "When a gas is decompressed, it cools rapidly, so it can be used to regulate the temperature in critical systems.. There are more effective gases than oxygen, but it's all I have access to. I reused the air filters so that it can operate outside, extracting oxygen from the atmosphere driving it through the compressors, and ventilating the heat through a dedicated exhaust. The tanks have been installed to create a buffer in case the air filters fail. It's quite simple. But it works."

A promising start. I knew she could figure something out.

"I need to find a way to test it. The mobile units are more susceptible to heat than the transports, but we can't test the transport without them."

Fischer sits down in front of me and leans back, her head resting on my shoulder.

"The transport unit itself has no processing power beyond that required to control its own mechanisms. It cannot work autonomously. The mobile units have to drive them. Even then, I cannot tell if the intelligence is within the units themselves, or if they are remotely controlled. Volda won't tell me anything."

I wonder if she is suggesting that she knows how to drive the transport, or if it's just theoretical.

"I imagine the navigational instruments are on the mobile units, so even if the transport was sent on its own, it wouldn't know where it was going. Unless it relied on the sun, and a good understanding of where it was."

Fischer takes my hands in hers, and wraps them around her. My palms are resting on her belly, which she can't hide for much longer. I can feel something moving within. It's the first time, as far as I am aware. The moment is oddly serene. I just wish I knew what the machine would do it if found out.

"How soon do you think you will be able to test it?"

"In a few days, if I can convince the machine."

Silence fills the room. I can still feel the kicking. It's not rhythmic, but its somehow comforting. I wonder if we're better off staying. We might be. At least until it decides we're no longer of any use.

*    *    *

We're standing in an airlock, our old oxygen masks covering our faces. It's a familiar feeling, but somewhat alien in here.

Fischer has convinced the machine to let me help prepare the test. I honestly have no idea what to do, but I am making myself look useful, holding tools, and hovering over her.

The transport module is open in front of a tunnel. The mobile unit is standing behind us, waiting to climb into the shell. The mechanisms within are so complex that I'm amazed that Fischer was able to rig something up.

"We're ready to go", she says, waving me away, and summoning the mobile unit.

It approaches, and folds many of its arms in as it prepares to enter. Suddenly, Fischer's arms leap out and dive into the midsection of the mobile unit, ripping out a cable, leaving the machine to instantly fall stationary.

"No natural predators," says Fischer with a shrug, throwing the cable away. "Let's go. I don't think we have much time."

She guides me into the rear section of the transport, and reattaches my oxygen mask to the pipes in the machine. After she climbs in the forward section, the shell closes around us. I can't see what she is doing, but I can feel the transport spring into action.

The noise around me is deafening as the unit rushes through the tunnel. Within moments, a faint natural light cracks through the shell, and the noise of the tunnel dies down. We're four hundred and fifty-seven kilometres away from base. I hope Fischer knows where she is going.

Within minutes, the transport shuts down and we quickly come to a halt. I can hear Fischer cursing up front.

"What happened?"

"I don't know."

"Can you fix it?"

"I don't—"

The shell opens, and bright sunlight bursts in. Surrounding us are four more transports, their mobile units detached, blocking any escape. Volda's voice appears from one of them as it approaches.

"You underestimated my intelligence. You thought I didn't understand human interaction."

"We had to try," I insist, however meek the desperation.

If it understands humans, then surely it understands that.

"Humans are predictable creatures," says Volda. "I gave you the opportunity to save the planet. And you chose to save yourselves instead."

I glance at Fischer, who is showing the same resigned expression as I am. I can't even argue the machine's point. In it's ungainly manner, numerous arms curl out and gesture to Fischer's abdomen.

"How long did you expect to survive out here, particularly in your condition?"

Fischer's shoulders drop as her hands instinctively cradle her belly. I can do nothing but helplessly sympathise.

"Shall we try this one last time?" asks Volda. "You can stay with me for as long as you are able to assist me in restoring life on Earth. Or you can try to save yourselves while you watch the world flailing in it's final moments. The choice is yours, humans."