Perigee (34 page)

“Tom, Mr. Hammond would like to speak with you.”

Ryan spoke up for them. “We appreciate that. Go ahead, sir.”

There was another short crackle of static before Art Hammond’s booming voice came through.

“Everyone down here is really proud of you. All of you have performed admirably in a horrendous situation,” he said. “And I’m sorry you had to. I encouraged you to do this flight, and I take full responsibility for the consequences.”

“Not necessary,” they heard Tom reply. “My bright idea…” he whispered, “…my decision.”

“Regardless,” Hammond continued, “not to put too fine a point on it, but FAA and NTSB are crawling all over us right now and I will not see the people of this company suffer for my own aggrandizement.”

“Appreciate that, Art,” Tom said. “Ryan and the others,” he breathed, “will be home soon. Find out the truth.”

“You have my assurance we will do just that,” Hammond said solemnly.

“Is he for real?” Marcy asked aloud, covering her headset. “What is he talking about?”

Ryan waved her down. “We’ll talk later,” he whispered, covering his own microphone. “It’s complicated.”

Hammond’s voice faltered. “You watched my back for a long time. It was a pleasure flying with you all those years. Now, I’ll shut up and let you speak with someone more important. She’s been most kind to let me ramble.”

…

Tom floated listlessly in his seat. He had shut down everything except the radio, trying to conserve power. If Art’s suspicions were correct, they would probably need to get back over here at some point, he’d decided earlier. For now, he watched Earth’s night side drift once again into morning. The sparkling clusters of city lights became a blur; he’d long ago given up trying to pick out where they were.

There was another burst of static, someone else trying to speak with him.

“Hi honey,” came Elise Gentry’s gentle voice, shocking him back from the edge of consciousness. “You’ve gotten yourself into another fine mess.”

“I know,” he coughed, fighting back his subconscious. “Sorry, babe,” was all he could manage. “It’ll turn out all right this time.”

“Yes, it will,” she agreed, “and I’ll be okay here. Arthur was kind enough to come down here himself. And the boys are on their way home now.”

He closed his eyes and smiled. “That’s good news, babe. Guess we’ll both be home soon enough.”

…

Ryan felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Simon Poole pointing to a small monitor on the comm panel. He was momentarily surprised to find a message for him from Penny, then remembered she had been up here once or twice before.

ATTN ISS FOR RYAN HUNTER: HIS WIFE IS SICK. LATE STAGE LEUKEMIA...6 MONTHS.

That explained everything: Tom’s detachment, irritability, his taking a pass on Reno last month...of course.

And he was evidently becoming incoherent. Ryan thought he heard muffled singing over the radio. He faintly recognized the uneven melody and suddenly felt perversely intrusive. It sounded like something they would have shared a long time ago, the kind of silly rhyme newlyweds would have made up for each other when their marriage was fresh and full of possibilities.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…

“Thank you,” Elise said gratefully. “I haven’t heard that in a very long time. I thought you had just gotten too old and cantankerous.”

Ryan felt both honored and shameful for eavesdropping on such a private moment. He heard Elise draw a breath and begin praying for her husband, for his comfort and a swift journey home. She closed with a promise. “You know I won’t be far behind, dear. See you soon.”

“I’ll wait up, ‘Leese,” he finally gasped, and fell silent.

Ryan tore the headset from his ear and flung it across the cluttered airlock with a bitter curse. He tucked his legs up tightly and buried his face between his knees.

…

Denver

Penny slumped, wheezing, against her chair. She had lost many friends throughout her career and had developed a thick skin to cope. Staring at the image of
Austral Clipper
on the big screen, she began crying softly. Not only for her good friend, but for all the others she had lost over the years...for her husband, over whom she had once choked back the tears while repeating the “we know the risks” mantra that had been so thoroughly bred into them.

And for Elise, who had become a greater source of strength for her than she’d ever imagined.

“We have to bring them
all
home,” she announced to the team, “whatever it takes.”

68

Denver

Taggart sat in his darkened office. “You’ve heard the news, Walter?” he said quietly into the phone. It had become another late night for him; they were all certain to be so for some time.

“Yeah, I did,” Donner answered gruffly. “Captain’s dead and a passenger almost offed himself. Everyone else is on the space station?”

“That’s correct,” he said. “Which lends even more urgency to our task. NTSB will officially declare this an accident with a death onboard.”

“Yeah, I get it. But let the Feds worry about that, we’ve still got an airline to run.”

“For now,” Taggart said. “If this turns out badly, there may be nothing left of us,” he said dourly.

“What about Gentry? We can’t just leave his body up there.”

“No, of course not,” Taggart assured him. “He was an honorable man, and will be treated honorably. We do not leave anyone behind,” he said with practiced sincerity. “Now, I have a question about those QC records you brought,” he said, changing the subject. “You did go through the copies you made for us, correct? I’m having trouble finding the relevant documents.”

“Everything’s there,” Donner said with evident satisfaction, and went on to explain exactly how they were organized. Taggart found it was a struggle to sound interested, but it was useful information.

With that conversation finished, he pulled out his cell phone. “It’s Leo. Here’s what you’re looking for,” he said brusquely. “Our man has his hands on the records. Yes, all over them,” he said confidently. “You’re certain the computer files will match?”

“Of course. It was easy. I did it while we were talking.”

Taggart hung up then checked the status of his private bank account. His contacts might be pains in the ass, but he had to admit they did pay quite well. He moved on to his broker’s account page and evaluated his options for tomorrow morning’s opening. As he checked the company’s current stock price, his face twisted into a satisfied smile. The time to move had arrived.

…

Penny was collecting her own notes from the improvised CapCom station as her computer backed up everything she’d done since arriving at the Emergency Operations Center.

With everyone safely aboard Station, there was precious little they could do now. Other team members were likewise gathering up their materials. All of them worked in silence, with Grant the only exception. He carried on a quiet conversation with Houston about stores, housekeeping, and other arrangements until the crew transfer capsule’s scheduled arrival next month.

Arthur Hammond finally walked in, looking bone-tired, having just returned from the Gentry’s home.

“How’s everyone in here holding up?” he asked, and was greeted by careless shrugs and empty stares. “About as expected,” he muttered, flopping into an empty chair as fatigue visibly washed over him. “Sorry folks, I deserved that.”

“How’s Elise?” Penny asked on behalf of the group.

“Handling it okay, believe it or not,” he said. Penny did believe that, in fact. “But she needs company—lots of it. Neighbors are staying with her right now, and I’ve got one of Posey’s men down there keeping an eye on the place. She will be well taken care of, I’ll see to that,” he said with conviction.

“What about his…remains?” she asked. “I’ve been with them both a lot for the past few months…Elise is planning to be buried when her time comes.”

“You mention this in context of what’s going to happen to our spaceplane,” Hammond observed cautiously.

Penny and Charlie exchanged glances. “The thought occurred to us,” she said. “It’s our job to make sure all the loose ends are tied up, so to speak.”

“She actually mentioned that,” Hammond said. “She’s okay with letting him go…I mean, staying with the ship. For however long it’s up there.” He quickly surveyed the room. “Now, if the rest of you could excuse us, I need to speak with these two.”

He sat quietly at the conference table as the remaining team members trailed out of the room.

“What’s up, Arthur?” Charlie finally asked.

Hammond stretched with a yawning sigh. “It’s been a hell of a week,” he said. “And we’re not done yet. I do not want to leave him up there to just burn up in the atmosphere, understand? We need to work out a plan to get him home.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Penny thought. “There would be room on the crew capsule. And we, well, keep the necessary equipment on board,” she said hesitantly.

“You mean body bags?”

“Yes,” Grant interjected, “if Station’s willing to do another EVA, that is.”

“Work it out,” Hammond instructed after a moment’s thought. “But I don’t just want him brought home in that capsule. I want the plane back, too.”

They stared at him, stunned.

“You
can
do it?” he pressed.

“It’s possible,” Grant said carefully. “Ratio of mass over surface area is in the ballpark. We looked at it as an option in case the ISS transfer didn’t work.”

“You mean for automated re-entry in another month or so.” By then, their orbit would have naturally decayed well after everyone aboard had long since suffocated.

“Correct,” he answered grimly. “Thankfully it wasn’t necessary. But it’s an awful risk, Art, with not much benefit…” he paused. “You need that bird down here, don’t you?” he asked pointedly.

Hammond sighed. “I’ll get right to it—the sharks smell blood in the water and they’re circling tight. We need that plane back in one piece so we can go through every nook and cranny.”

“You’re even more right than you know, boss,” Penny said. “Due to the onboard fatality, NTSB has declared this an accident and is demanding the spaceplane be secured. They’ll allow us to recover remains, but otherwise no one gets on or off.”

He’d expected an accident declaration, but this was absurd. “They’re serious?” he laughed. “What are we supposed to do, send up a go-team? Have the cops tape off the crash site?”

“None of the Feds are exactly being rational,” she said. “NASA wants it as far away from the station as we can get it. They’ve got to de-orbit the ATV anyway, and were thinking they could just kill two birds with one stone.”

Hammond shook his head. “Like I said…blood in the water. Don Abbot would love to see us go down in flames. Bet he’d never counted on that being literal.”

“Taggart was in here earlier, looking for you.” Grant added, changing the subject. “The press is really lighting him up.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Hammond grumbled. “There’s any number of cretins out there who’d love to take us down hard. And they don’t care how many lives they wreck in the bargain.” He could be notoriously gruff, but did not lightly tolerate threats to his people’s livelihoods.

“This isn’t
enough
?” Grant asked in amazement. “How badly could someone want us to fail?” He noticed Penny shift uncomfortably in her seat. She clearly knew more than she was allowed to let on.

“Badly enough to commit sabotage, for starters,” he answered coldly.

69

Denver

Hammond’s ad-hoc investigative team waited patiently in his office and watched the distant mountains emerge from night’s shadow, turning purple in the new morning sun. The last few days had thoroughly consumed the energy of every person close to the minute-by-minute events. In that interval, Posey and Davis had been doggedly turning over every detail of
Austral Clipper’s
history up until its last launch.

Their task was alternately fascinating and mind-numbing, suffused with the realization that they were in a race against time. Yesterday’s tragedy in orbit had made it all the more urgent. They’d had to work quickly before every piece of paper and electronic record related to spaceplane number 501 was locked down tight. A team of National Transportation Safety Board investigators was already on its way to Denver, dispatched from DC instead of a regional office. It was a barely-concealed signal of how the company was about to be openly raked over the coals.

“So,” Hammond began as he strode quickly into his office, “where do we stand right now?”

Davis spoke up first. “Arthur, we sure enough found a big gap in the maintenance records. Big enough to drive a truck through. A work card is missing from six days ago, when the master engine controls were supposedly removed, tested, and reinstalled.”