Angel of Europa by Allen Steele

that she knew she’d been defeated.
    “No, not at all.” He paused, trying to figure what to say. “I figured you were going to be here,” he added after a moment, “so I thought I’d see you off.”
    “Yeah … okay.” Evangeline nodded. Danzig noticed the drip-line attached to her left arm; Martha had already put her under sedation as the preliminary step toward hibernation; this probably accounted for her dull expression. “Sorry for what I did. You just … you just …”
    “I know.” Despite what he knew about what she’d done, Danzig had to resist the urge to walk over and comfort her. It was hard to see her like this; he had a sudden impulse to leave the room, but he needed to see this through.
    Evangeline seemed to understand. A wan smile struggled to her face, and for an instant he saw the woman whom he’d trusted enough to take him into Europa’s oceans and bring him back again. Then the smile faded and she looked away, gazing at nothing in particular.
    “All right, we’re ready.” Martha finished making the final adjustments to the hibernation cell’s recessed control panel. “You can bring her over now.”
    The cell was in its horizontal position, its door open to reveal a padded tank somewhat resembling the inside of a refrigerator. Danzig had slept there on the way to Jupiter; now Evangeline would take his place until the Zeus Explorer returned to Earth.
    He quietly watched while Kirstin and Jim led Evangeline to the cell. She didn’t resist as they carefully helped her into the tank, nor did she say anything while Martha inserted a feeding tube into her right arm and slid a unisex urine collection cup beneath her smock. Danzig didn’t notice that Diaz had stepped over to stand beside him; he continued to observe the procedure that would put Evangeline into a long, dreamless sleep which would only end when she was awakened to stand trial for the murders of two men.
    “She’s ready,” Martha said. She was about to close the door, then she looked over her shoulder at Danzig. “Would you like to say anything to her before she goes?”
    Danzig hesitated, and Diaz touched his arm. “It’s all right,” she whispered. “Go ahead, if you want.”
    He reluctantly approached the cell. Evangeline lay within it, hands at her sides, looking as if she was about to be interred in a cemetery. Her eyelids were fluttering as the drugs took affect; only a few seconds remained before she was lost to him.
    “Goodbye, Mephostophilis,” he said. He didn’t know whether she understood him; he could only hope that she’d remember what he said. In any case, he didn’t get an answer. Her blue-green eyes closed, and then she was gone.
    Once its door was sealed, the cell raised to its vertical position and retract into a bulkhead niche. Diaz waited until it was done before she walked over to Danzig.
    “Mephostophilis?” she asked.
    “A fallen angel,” Danzig said. “The one who tempted Faust.”
    “Uh-huh.” From the vague way she responded, it was clear she’d probably never read Marlowe. “And did she tempt you?”
    Danzig didn’t reply. Instead, he turned and left the room.
END

About the Author
    Before becoming a science fiction writer, Allen Steele was a journalist for newspapers and magazines in Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Missouri, and his home state of Tennessee. But science fiction was his first love, so he eventually ditched journalism and began producing that which had made him decide to become a writer in the first place.
    Since then, Steele has published eighteen novels and nearly one hundred short stories. His work has received numerous accolades, including three Hugo Awards, and has been translated worldwide, mainly into languages he can’t read. He serves on the board of advisors for the Space Frontier Foundation and is a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America. He also belongs to Sigma, a group of science fiction writers who frequently serve as unpaid