'I'
ll pilot the R Two from Harmony. You go back to the Cupola. Come and tell me if you see anything I need to know about.'
'Ok
ay,' she said, nodding, and they left Quest, Novitskiy turning right into Harmony and Sally heading straight on over to the Cupola. It took her a moment to locate the drifting astronaut: he had travelled a long way already, and when she found him her stomach lurched. He was no longer thrashing — he was still. The other astronaut had seen and was heading straight for him, but Sally could tell that the distance between them was too great to catch up. From the right, the bronze headed R Two robot darted into view, moving with a speed the EMUs couldn't hope to match. It caught up with the drifting body, slowing him down and guiding him back towards the station. The other astronaut met them on the way back, and with a wave of relief washing through her, Sally watched as man and machine towed the limp body to safety. She rushed across to Quest and waited as the warning light for the outer airlock door clicked on and then off again. There was a muted rushing of air, then silence.
'We have to wait a few minutes before they can come in
,' Novitskiy said, drifting in behind her. 'But they'll be here soon.'
Sally
remembered her own experience of coming in through the airlock, the relief of sharing the station's life support after her journey on the outside. The red inner airlock light glowed deep, and she swapped between staring at it, then the airlock door, then it again every few seconds. It took her brain a moment to catch up when it did switch off, and everything sank back into clarity as Novitskiy rushed to the door to help Chris — helmet already removed — tow Gardner's floating, lifeless body in. His helmet was off too, and Sally let out a tiny gasp as she saw the look on his face. It was part surprise, part — no, that couldn't be right. But the more she stared, the more she realised she
was
right, that the expression frozen on Gardner's face was one of elation.
'His vitals are
fine,' Chris said, his own face reflecting the polar opposite, 'but he's completely non-responsive. He's in some sort of coma.'
Chris and Novitskiy steered Gardner's body to the medi-station in the Harmony module, as Sally followed on behind. Other than a brief and foggy stint in her week
s of intense training, Sally had never had any sort of formal first aid education, and so all she could do was look on at her only friend, helpless. As Novitskiy and Chris peeled off Gardner's suit, revealing his soft naked flesh beneath, the feeling became one of claustrophobia, and it engulfed her like a thick skin, numbing her mind. Once what could be done for Gardner was done, they retreated to the galley where she stared at her untouched meal.
'He seems to be stable,' Novitskiy said, the first words spoken in a while. 'I'll keep an eye on him for any changes.'
Somehow, Sally knew — and she felt the others knew too — Gardner wouldn't be coming back.
'We'll investigate the Soyuz capsule tomorrow,'
Novitskiy continued. 'We don't know what kind of condition it's in, so we'll need our wits about us. That means a good night's sleep before we attempt to breach it.' He paused, drumming his fingers on the table. 'Or at least as much sleep as we can manage, anyway.'
He took a mouthful
from his food pouch, struggling to chew and swallow. He didn't take another, but sat back, scratching at his face. Sally wondered if he wanted to leave the breach until tomorrow because he couldn't face seeing his friend in the inevitable condition they expected to find him in.
'I didn't know he was in trouble …' Chris whispered
, jarring Sally from her distant thoughts. 'I just left him out there.'
'It's ok
ay,' Sally said, putting her hand on his. 'I saw the whole thing. You did the best you could have possibly done.'
Chris s
natched his hand away, sending his drinks pouch spinning from the table.
'I didn't help him!' he bellowed. 'I didn't help him like I didn't help Mikhail!'
Sally watched in shock as he left the module, loud bangs and thumps reverberating back up the station after him, each one making her flinch.
'He'll be ok
ay,' Novitskiy said. He sounded weary.
'What did he mean?'
Another muffled thump travelled up the station.
'I used to love American food,' Novitskiy said,
massaging the paste in the pouch, then holding it up to his face to look at it with big, longing eyes. 'But now I can't stomach it.' He slopped the pouch back on the table.
'Novitskiy!' Sally snapped.
'What?' Novitskiy said, looking up, a child-like surprise replacing his distant expression.
'What did Chris mean when he said he didn't help Mikhail?'
Novitskiy pursed his lips.
'He didn't take it well,' he said. 'Williams
— sorry, Chris — had real admiration for Mikhail, despite what everyone says. When Mikhail asked him to help run some pressure tests on the Soyuz airlock, he didn't think for one moment that he would just up and leave in it. He blames himself for that.'
'I'm sorry.'
'Don't be. There's nothing any of us can do to make things different, so it's best not to linger on it. I prefer to think that Mikhail's just — gone out for a bit.' That same awkward smile he'd smiled when Sally had first met him bloomed on his face.
'Is there any chance at all he's still alive?
' Sally asked, not really knowing what else to say.
Novitskiy's
smile dimmed, and his woeful eyes looked deep into hers. He shook his head. 'Not even a remote one.'
* * *
The waiter refilled Sean's wine glass. Sean brought it to his nose to savour the musty tones of such a fine vintage. It wasn't often he treated himself, but since his investigations had taken such a positive turn, he felt it was a justified luxury. That and the wine was taking the edge off the grinding worry in his stomach as he waited to hear from Aleks. Aleks had messaged him earlier today to let him know he would be trying the key card, but he was yet to follow up with the results. Sean glanced — as he had a thousand times since being seated at the hotel restaurant — at his phone, which remained silent. He drained the glass.
When his des
sert arrived, his appetite was somewhat waning, partly due to the big steak he'd just consumed, and partly because it was ten o'clock and he still hadn't heard anything.
When did Aleks' shift start?
He couldn't remember. Aleks had mentioned it in his earlier message, so Sean prodded the menu key on his phone and scrolled through to read it. As he did, the phone vibrated in his hand, the resulting jolt of adrenalin almost causing his steak to make a reappearance. He opened the new message and read it. As he consumed its few words, his mouth went dry, and he re-read them in disbelief. Sure enough, they said the same thing they had read the first time:
Bomb on Progress
Chapter 16
In that moment e
verything became very real for Sean Jacob. Too real. He was used to chasing leads and getting into tight corners, but this was another level of government conspiracy he wasn't prepared for. Panicking, he looked about the restaurant, half expecting a squad of Kevlar-clad troopers to crash through the doors. His frenzied stare was met by the sympathetic smile of an old couple sat on the table opposite, while the few other diners hadn't even noticed. His heart seemed loud in this quiet, serene environment, and for a second he felt silly. They wouldn't be coming for
him
, would they? How would they even know of his existence? He looked at the message again, then deleted it.
Shit
, he hadn't meant to do that. Not that it mattered — the words still burned bright in his mind.
H
ands trembling, he retrieved his wallet, scooped out of wad of cash and, hoping it was enough, dropped it on the table. Just because they hadn't come for him now didn't mean they wouldn't come for him at all. He didn't want to end up like Lev Ryumin. Negotiating the tables in a daze, Sean exited the restaurant and hurried towards the elevators. He could see the main entrance at the other end of the lobby, and he watched for the inevitable black SUV to pull up outside. The elevator pinged its arrival, taking him by surprise, and the businessman that stepped off smiled at him as they traded places. But
was
he a businessman, or an undercover government agent? Sean watched him with suspicion while tapping the button for his floor.
'Come on …' he said to himself. After what seemed like forever, the doors closed and the elevator ascended
. It arrived at his floor and he disembarked, checked the route was clear and headed for his room. At the door, he paused, grasping the handle. Visions of what might lay in wait for him turned his throat dry, but still he took a breath and slotted the key card into place. The green light illuminated and the bolt retracted. Trying not to make a sound as he opened the door, he slid into the room. It was dark, and there didn't seem to be anyone there. He bolted the door and put the chain across, and only then did he switch on the light. Everything was as he left it. Relief swooped over him, and with it, exhaustion. He dropped onto the bed, just for a little while, to let his thoughts catch up with him. But his thoughts weren't the only thing to catch up with him: the red meat and wine intoxicated his body with slumber, and he fell asleep.
The next morning he awoke in a pleasant mood,
despite a bit of a throb above his left eye. He lumbered to the bathroom to top up his glass with water, and as the cold liquid filled his stomach, the events of the night before came back to him. How could he have been so stupid as to fall asleep? He dashed to the window, cracked the curtains and looked out at the road below. There were still no black SUVs parked outside, which was a mild reassurance, but he still needed to get out of there fast, and there was only one place he knew to go.
An hours' drive shrank to forty minutes as he urged the taxi driver on. The recent rain storms had left the road damp, but that didn't seem to phase the driver
as Sean encouraged him to go faster. With every mile between them and Moscow, Sean relaxed a bit more, and by the time he arrived at David's farm he was feeling a lot more level-headed.
'Sean! What are you doing
here?'
David flicked his straggly, shoulder-length hair from across his face, a
welcoming smile revealing his dirty teeth.
'I need somewher
e to lie low for a bit. I figured you could help.'
The smile waned.
'Er … sure. Come in.'
David backed up to let Sean in, before looking both ways out the door.
'Where's your car?' he asked.
'Left it at
the hotel and got a taxi here.' Anticipating David's next question, Sean added: 'I was dropped off up the road and I made sure I wasn't followed.'
That seemed to satisfy David; he shut the door and
bolted it twice.
'
Everything alright?' Sean asked.
'Yes, I'm
fine,' David said, pushing past and wandering through to the back. Sean followed him. 'It's just … I had a couple of police officers here, you know, snooping like they do, asking questions. They didn't have a warrant or anything, but I locked the door after they left just to be safe. Can I interest you in some cake?' He had stopped by a rotten workbench that was almost black with mould. There was a cake atop it.
'No … thanks,' Sean said, eyeing the
scene with a grimace. 'But I'd really appreciate it if I could use your internet.'
'Sure,' David sai
d, helping himself to a slice. 'The password's my birth date.'
'Really? Your birth date?'
Sean said as he watched David push the cake into his mouth in one go. It occurred to him that this man must have the most resistant immune system in the world to live in these conditions and not get sick.
'I'm jus
t kidding,' David said through the mouthful. 'It's actual a fifty-digit hexadecimal code. But it was my birthday last week, which is why I have cake.'
Sean forced
what he hoped was a pleasant smile over his true feeling of revulsion. 'Happy birthday.'
'Thanks,' David said, beaming.
'Give me whatever device it is you want connecting and I'll hook it up for you.'
Sean retrieved his laptop and passed it to David, who took it with sticky hands. At least the cake, being a week old, wasn't too greasy.
'Is the connection secure?'
David snorted.
'Don't be silly,' he said, 'of course it is. It doesn't come any securer … securer …'
'More secure?' Sean suggested.
'Yes, exactly. It doesn't come any more securer than this.' He looked pleased with himself, swelling with pride.
'Very impressive
.'
'Isn't it just?
You'll need to use a wired connection though, I hope that's alright?'
'That's fine, thank you.'
'Wireless connections just aren't secure enough.'
'I figured.'
David clicked away at Sean's laptop for a few minutes, sucking crumbs off his fingers as he worked. 'All done,' he said, handing the device back. 'Cable's pretty long, so you can take it to the workbench if you want.'
'That's ok
ay,' Sean said. He assumed the workbench was the same rotten one with the cake on it. 'I'll sit here and use it on my lap.'
'Ok
ay, but that's not good for your back.'
'I'll be fine, thank you.'
'Can I get you a drink?'
'No
, thank you.'
'How long will you be staying?'
'I'm not sure.'
Sean opened his browser and tapped
Major General John Bales
into the search bar.
'
What are you looking for?' David asked.
Sean shut his eyes.
He'd forgotten how annoying David could get. 'Actually, I will have that drink, thank you,' he said. That seemed to appease David.
'What would you like?'
'Some water would be great, I've got a bit of a headache.'
'Would you like some aspirin, too?'
'Okay, sure.'
David, grinning, left to get Sean's drink and pills.
Sean scrolled through the results, but he couldn't see anything relevant. He scanned page after page, with nothing catching his eye. It wasn't a surprise, but he couldn't help but feel disappointed. He tried a different search:
SETI Sally Fisher
After he and Aleks had cracked Lev's code, they'd spoken more about UV
One and Sally Fisher, and of the whole picture, it was Sally Fisher that bugged him most. She was the anomaly in all this, the sore thumb that stuck out from here to the International Space Station. If Bales wanted to destroy UV One — and it was hard to imagine he wanted to do anything else with the explosive on board Progress — then it didn't make sense to send her. Maybe she was a last resort, a bridge to burn if communications failed. It all seemed very drastic.
He scrolled through the results and found a bio of her on a university page.
She was a plain-looking girl, yet Sean found it hard to take his eyes off her. When he finally did, he read through the post, scanning past the details he already knew. He re-read it, and then again. Something twigged in his mind, but he wasn't quite sure what it was. He searched for:
Robert Gardner TMA-08
. Again, it was no surprise that nothing came up, save for a mission report that said everything had gone as expected. The report was accompanied by a photo of the crew: Gardner, some other guy, and someone that for some reason he recognised. He opened a new tab, loaded up the mission page for the current Soyuz TMA Ten M expedition, and the same face was there. Captain Evgeny Novitskiy.
Sean's brain thundered with ele
ctricity as he untangled threads at random in the hope that something would come from it. Bales, Novitskiy, Gardner, Fisher, TMA Eight, TMA Ten M — it was all somehow linked, and no matter how close he was to understanding that link, he just couldn't grasp it.
'I've got your water. And your aspirin.'
David wandered back in, carrying a glass that was brim-full of cloudy water. He handed it over, looking pleased with himself. 'Didn't spill a drop.'
Sean nodded
his thanks and took a sip. It tasted chalky.
'And here'
s your aspirin.'
He opened a dirty hand to reveal two pills sticking to it. Sean peeled them off, looked at them, figured that he could do worse than to cure his headache, and placed them on his tongue. Taking a
nother long swig of the chalky water, he swallowed them both down. 'Thanks,' he said, his tongue tingling in a most unsavoury way.
'You're welcome. W
hat are you looking at?'
Sean's
train of thought was well and truly derailed, so he decided he may as well share it with David. It couldn't hurt. 'I'm trying to find a link between four people. One guy reckons he found god and nearly killed two others doing it; another guy is one of the guys the first guy nearly killed; there's a girl that doesn't seem to fit in at all; and the last guy, he's in charge, and he's about to do something big.' He made an explosion sound, throwing his hands apart to simulate what he meant, but David just looked blank.
Never mind.
'I don't believe in g
od,' David said.
Sean smiled. David may be simple, but he wasn't stupid.
And he was damn handy with a computer. 'No, me neither. It's too easy to believe in something so conveniently inexplicable.'
'They used to kill people who didn't believe in god. Can you imagine that? It's madness.'
Sean smiled.
'Yes, it is.'
Then it hit him, al
l at once. Novitskiy was on TMA Eight with Gardner, when Gardner almost killed everyone on board. Novitskiy continued going into space, but Gardner didn't. Why? Because Gardner was a liability. Yet he had been sent up again seven years later on TMA Ten M, with Sally Fisher riding shotgun. It would have been Bales' decision, but why pick Gardner? Why not someone else? Because last time Gardner went into space, he saw something. God. Or at least that's what he thought he saw. And Bales knew as David knew that people who didn't believe in god got killed, so he was getting in early and killing god first. But not before he sent his messenger, Sally Fisher. What was the message? That's where Sean's mind hit yet another dead end.
S
omething in his pocket vibrated, making him jump.
'Shit!' he yelped, dropping his
laptop in shock. It was his phone. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the number: Aleks. He answered the call.
'Hello?' he said.
'Hello, Sean.'
'Who's this?'
'You don't know me, but thanks to a mutual friend, I know you. He says you have something of mine, some information. I want it back.'
'I don't know what you're
—'
'Listen,' the voice cut in. 'You need to know there is nowhere on this planet I can't find you, nowher
e you'll be safe from me. But I'm willing to cut you a deal.'
Sean could feel
a cold sweat beading on his forehead. His worst fears had come true: they had found him. 'Go on.'
'Come to the RFSA headquarters
tomorrow morning. Bring this phone.'
'And what do I get in return?
'
The voice laughed a slow, deep
laugh.
'Let's just say you'll have a
guilt-free conscience.'
Sean tried to think of a way out, but he knew he didn't have much choice.
'Okay, okay. I'll be there.'
'Good. And one more thing: i
f I discover the information you have has been leaked, then, well — I'm sure I don't have to explain what would happen.'