Doctor Victor Corvo pressed a clean linen handkerchief over his mouth as the chalky white fog rolled across the derrick deck like pulverized bone.
The air tasted of dry gypsum, scorched photographic film, and bitter formaldehyde.
“Do not breathe through your mouth!” Doctor Corvo shouted through the linen, waving Julian and Lin Mei back toward the steel companionway.
“Keep your nostrils covered and avoid taking deep breaths!” Corvo commanded.
“What is in that powder?” Mac Cole demanded, his brass prosthetic arm shielding his face as the blizzard swirled around them.
“My eyes are burning like I caught a face full of dry battery acid!” Mac coughed, ducking behind the hoist console.
“It is pure un-laminated Clause-Pulp from the Covenant’s salvage hold!” Lin Mei cried, her voice muffled behind her thick wool sleeve.
“Under ultraviolet inspection, the dry powder seeks warm moisture!” Lin Mei yelled.
