Voyager

by Carl Rackman

  Federal Plaza, New York City

  “I’m sorry, Dr Woolf, you are an active suspect in a serious espionage case.”

  “So when do I get to see my lawyer?” Callie had given them Bryan’s name, but she doubted he would come to her aid after what had happened over the weekend.

  “Ma’am, under the provisions of the USA PATRIOT Act—”

  “Oh, spare me the Gestapo crap, buddy! I’m a federal employee! Get me a lawyer or I’m not saying another word.”

  Special Agent John Berkoff sighed. He was assigned the case directly by SAC Ferguson only yesterday. He and his FBI partner, Christine Savage, were expecting a wonkish rocket scientist, not the fiery blonde woman who had held out against them since he first dared to open his mouth. Savage practically hid behind him when the lady went into one of her impassioned tirades.

  “Why am I being held here? Where’s Matt? I want to go home. I need to speak to my team, and I need a counsellor!”

  Savage stepped forward. “Ma’am, we can arrange a counsellor for you. But first you need to co-operate—”

  “I’m not going to co-operate! I just got run off the road, forced to travel across America without even a change of clothes, then the one guy who tries to help gets his head blown off right next to me, by one of your agents!” Callie was not feeling receptive. “Then I find out she’s not an FBI agent at all and next thing I’m running for my life. Now I finally meet a good guy, the only person who’s shown me any understanding at all, any affection or comfort, and you tell me he’s some kind of master spy, so you lock us up and won’t let me speak to him! So, yeah, I’m not in a co-operative mood! Unless someone sits down with me and Matt and actually tells us what the hell is going on, I’m not going to play ball.”

  Berkoff looked uncomfortable. “Dr Woolf, I’m just not sure how that could be possible—”

  “Well, you damn well make it possible. Where I work, we make things possible if we want to get the right outcome. Why don’t you work on that?”

  Berkoff caught his own reflection looking at the large mirrored window in the interrogation room. He pulled a face.

  Thirty seconds later a grey-haired, fiftyish man with a bushy moustache entered the room.

  Callie glared at him.

  He began in a conciliatory tone, “Dr Woolf, please let me explain. My name is Ken Ferguson. I’m a senior agent-in-charge at the New York Field Office. I head the Counterintelligence Unit.”

  “Okay, Mr Ferguson, is it you I need to speak to about getting out of here?”

  Ferguson smiled. “As you’ve heard, it’s not that simple.”

  Callie frowned in return. “Then, tell me why. I’ve been here for four days, and I’m still waiting for somebody to tell me what’s going on.”

  Ferguson pursed his lips. “I’ll tell you what, Ms Woolf-”

  “Please call me Callie, or Carolyn.”

  Ferguson smiled again. “Callie. I want to offer you a deal. If you take it you get full disclosure, but you agree to work for us until we find out what all of this is about.”

  Callie was no fool. She decided to push a little while Ferguson was in the mood to deal.

  “I want to see Matt. I need to know he’s all right—”

  Ferguson shook his head firmly before she’d even finished the sentence. “Callie, no. Matt is a foreign espionage agent. You can’t have any contact with him. None at all.”

  Callie couldn’t help the tears beginning to form in her eyes. “Agent Ferguson, I need this. I feel like I’m falling apart. My whole life has just turned inside out. You have to help me.”

  Ferguson sat down on the chair opposite. He signalled to Berkoff and Savage to leave the room.

  “Callie. I have some…latitude in this case. You see, one of my agents is in a coma in the hospital right now. He saved your lives. If he hadn’t intervened, I think you and Matt would be dead.” He let that sink in before adding, “As it is, Agent Barnes took a bullet, but he survived. We’re not really sure what kind of shape he’ll be in when he wakes up, but it will be some months before he can come back.”

  Callie felt stricken. Her hand covered her mouth, eyes wide. “Oh, God. I had no idea…”

  Ferguson relaxed the grim set of his mouth. “Now, I would very much like him to wake up and know that you’ve been able to help us find the people who did this. So, I’ve let you have something. Now why don’t you help me out?”

  Callie nodded. “Agent Ferguson, I want to see Matt. If you can exercise your latitude, I just want to see him. If you can do that, I’ll help you. You have my word.”

  Ferguson pressed his lips together before answering, “Okay.”

  Three hours later, Callie was back in her holding cell several floors down from the interview room when she heard the main door in the corridor clang open. It had opened several times; each time her heart leapt. She struggled to rationalise why she had fixated on Matt, a man eight years younger whom she’d known for all of three hours. Probably the extreme emotions she had felt since the disaster on Tuesday had intensified her feelings. But they had made some kind of connection; she was sure it wasn’t just the stress of the situation. For three hours they had been free, and Matt had been caring and calm despite his own traumatic experiences. By the time the police found them, Callie had been ready to trust him with her life.

  She knew she was a rational scientist. She had worked with some of the most intractable and grumpy geezers walking the planet for the past twenty-five years but she couldn’t yet mourn Jerry, Victor and Vijay because she still had no idea what had happened. All she felt she had right now was Matt.

  She heard the buzz of her door. It swung open to reveal Agent Ferguson, the Jerkoff guy and the mousy woman with the unlikely name. Ferguson entered first, then Jerk Off stood back and suddenly there was Matt.

  “Oh, Matt! Thank God!” She sprang from the bed and crushed herself against him, feeling his warm hands reaching up her back. It was a comfort she had never felt to such an extreme.

  Ferguson looked a bit awkward and shifted his feet as they clutched one another with a passion he hadn’t expected. “Uh, Ms Woo— Er…Callie, we have about five minutes, then he has to go back.”

  Callie gathered herself but kept her grip on Matt’s arm. He was smiling as much as her. She realised they both smelled pretty ripe. If it didn’t bother him, she certainly wouldn’t let it bother her.

  “How are you, Matt?”

  He was still beaming. “Much better for seeing you, Callie. How are they treating you?”

  She pulled a face. “Aw, you know, the hot tub could be a bit warmer.” They laughed. It felt so good.

  Matt recovered first, his face taking on a more serious aspect. “Callie. I…ah… This isn’t easy.”

  Callie’s grip tightened. “What? What is it, Matt?”

  He sat on her bunk and pulled her down next to him. “Callie, I’m going to make a deal with them. But it’s not great for us.”

  Callie’s heart sank. “You’re going to jail?”

  “No. At least, I don’t think so.” He shrugged. “Have they told you what was on the data card?”

  Ferguson interrupted. “Mr Ramprakash, you cannot discuss intelligence matters with Dr Woolf.”

  “Whatever.” Matt was getting annoyed. Ferguson was one of those wooden government types like Ron Swanson from Parks and Recreation. “Callie. I took the deal. It means you don’t get charged with spying, but I have to go home. It’s kind of a swap.”

  “You traded so I could go free?” Callie’s heart was melting. Matt certainly didn’t fit the James Bond stereotype.

  “Well, kind of.” He shot a glance at Ferguson. “You tell her everything or the deal’s off. Give me your word.”

  Ferguson sighed. “Sure, Mr Ramprakash. I’ll tell her.”

  Matt touched her cheek. She was strong. A beautiful woman. He was very lucky meeting her – even considering the circumstances. “I’ll see you again, okay? When you get out of here, we can
chat or e-mail or Skype. Whatever. Don’t forget me, will you?” His eyes twinkled with the hint of tears.

  Callie just hugged him, and lifted her mouth to his. Their lips only brushed each other as Matt was drawn away by Jerk Off, but her heart leapt. “I won’t forget, Matt.”

  Matt left the cell with a lingering look at Callie.

  When the cell block door clattered shut again, Callie gave Ferguson a fierce look. “Okay, your turn, Agent Ferguson. Tell me the deal. What was all that about the photos?”

  Ferguson looked at the other two agents. “Tell you what, Callie, let’s go somewhere more comfortable.”

  Ferguson’s office was on the fourteenth floor. A typical government office with a large desk, couch and two other chairs. Ferguson took the desk while Callie sat opposite on the couch. Berkoff and Savage took the chairs.

  “Callie. I’m taking a risk by telling you this, but there are things you need to know if you’re going to help us. You cannot repeat anything you hear today beyond this office. Do you understand?”

  “Of course I understand.”

  Ferguson took a deep breath before he spoke. “Callie, the contents of the data card Matt was bringing in were your photos. The ones from Voyager. Specifically, they were the copies you sent to your brother in England.”

  Callie’s hand flew involuntarily to her throat. “What? How could they—”

  Ferguson raised a hand. “We’ll do questions at the end, if that’s okay?”

  Callie nodded with a rapid bob of her head.

  “The photos were sent back to us by MI5, British intelligence. Ramprakash was the courier. We know this only because we made a deal to repatriate him without charge as long as we receive new copies of the pictures. They’re sending them over again through official diplomatic channels this time. Apparently, they were spooked by your team being wiped out just after you sent the photos to your brother, which I can understand. So they sent the pictures covertly.” Ferguson paused to take a swig of water from a bottle on his desk.

  “What happened to my team?” Callie couldn’t stop herself blurting out the question.

  Ferguson nodded towards Savage who brought up her iPad.

  “Five members of the Voyager Interstellar Mission died in mysterious circumstances in the twenty-four hours following your discovery,” Savage had a soft but clear voice.

  Just like a librarian or a teacher, thought Callie. Savage was such an inappropriate name for the bookish agent.

  “Dr Pascoe and Dr Ortiz died in a fire at Woodbury campus, JPL Building 600. The same fire destroyed the servers and image-processing equipment recently impounded by order of Deputy Director Petersen of JPL,” she continued.

  Callie shook her head remembering Patti Pascoe’s frantic phone messages.

  “Mr Aggarwal was killed in a hit-and-run driving accident late on Tuesday night, September sixth. The same night you were attacked in a gang-related incident, Dr Woolf.”

  Callie drew in a sharp breath to dispute this, but Ferguson raised a hand. She kept silent.

  Savage’s fingers pecked at the screen again. “Dr Brymon was discovered in a motel room in Pasadena. He looked to have died of a heart attack after a sexual encounter, probably with a prostitute.”

  Callie’s couldn’t help herself this time. “No way,” she blurted. “Not Morris. He would never do that.”

  Savage merely shrugged. “Dr Schlitzky was found at his home. He appeared to have died in an auto-erotic asphyxiation accident.”

  Callie shouted, “That’s a complete crock of—”

  “Please, Dr Woolf. These are all confirmed by autopsy and coroner’s reports. Apart from the synchronicity, there is no evidence of foul play.”

  “Well, I disagree. Someone tries to run me off the road, then all my people die, and some woman turns up in New York a few days later and tries to kill me again! And you’re saying that’s not foul play?”

  “Without a causative link—”

  “Are you crazy? Voyager! Voyager One is the causative link, and if you’re going to tell me—”

  “All right, Callie.” Ferguson held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “You’re right. We’re treating them all as connected. And there was another violent incident in Brooklyn involving the FBI a few days before, which may be linked as well. We’re not stupid. But here’s the deal, Callie. You can help us.” Ferguson sat forward looking earnestly into her eyes. “We’ll drop the espionage charges. You didn’t know it, but your mistake in taking those photos out of JPL actually saved them from destruction. By passing them on to your brother, you enabled us to obtain them for analysis. I’m asking you in return if you’d work with us to analyse the images as part of an inter-agency team. You’ll be based at JPL. You can go home, Callie.” He sat back.

  “Can Matt come visit?” Callie asked, hopefully.

  “No. Unfortunately, he won’t be allowed to enter the United States again.”

  Callie sat staring down at her clenched hands. Finally, she looked up. “All right. I’ll help you, Agent Ferguson.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Thursday, 20th October 2016

  Walter Reed National Military Medical Center

  Bethesda, Maryland

  “How’s my favourite patient? You think you might wake up today, honey?”

  The young Army nurse opened the curtains and switched on the TV as she always did. It was tuned to Fox News, which the patient’s fiancée said was his favourite news show. Each to their own. Nurse Specialist Makayla never judged, but she guessed these white-bread government types were mostly racist assholes.

  “But your fiancée don’t come to visit no more, huh, Mr Barnes?” She didn’t usually mock the afflicted, but she’d resented the patient’s haughty fiancée from the minute she walked into the hospital. A real stuck-up rich bitch spawned from the cookie-cutter of New York City privilege and thinking the sun shone out of her ass.

  Makayla was only twenty but she wasn’t born yesterday. She was a serving Army soldier and a specialist nurse. She didn’t take kindly to being bossed around by some skinny white girl with her Chanel purse and rickety-assed slingbacks. Didn’t she know this was a damn military hospital, not some catwalk party?

  The fiancée seemed genuinely concerned about the comatose gunshot victim, but her interest quickly waned and her visits ceased altogether after about ten days.

  “She used to read you stuff, huh? I thought you was one lucky sonofabitch, that’s all I’ll say. Cute white girl like that. Guess you musta been some hot stuff before, huh? But I always knew she was gonna get herself some other rich dude by now. Stuck-up chick like that, she ain’t gonna stick around for no vegetable like you. Guess that’s just your tough luck, Mr Barnes.”

  Nurse Makayla could be as cheeky as she wanted since her patient never replied – and as far as she was concerned, he never even heard her.

  She fussed around his bedside and changed the waste bottles for his bodily functions and the various drains from his damaged head. After checking the trach and feed tubes, she made notes of his vital signs. Her last check was to note perceptible changes in his mental state. But, as usual for the past five weeks in the secure ICU, he was unresponsive. She moved him to prevent bedsores from lying unmoving for so long, but he wasn’t due a bath until that evening. That could wait for the night staff.

  For good measure, she prayed over him as she did with all her coma patients. She looked at him again. His face was limp and lifeless, but something about him took the edge off her detachment. Perhaps he was one of the good guys after all.

  “You sleep well now, honey. Dr Katie will be here soon. She’s gonna fix you up when you done ready.”

  Brad was savouring the sensation of being inside a new and unbreakable body that never felt pain, never faltered or grew tired.

  He looked up and saw Helen walking over the crest of a grassy hill. She looked exactly as he always remembered. He rushed to meet her, feeling the same surge of love and joy as he held her
– really held her in his physical arms, an intimate crush of their very selves. Knowing her and being known in a rush of attraction that warmed his whole being.

  Her eyes sparkled as she pulled his face to hers, their laughter combining before their lips met in a joyous embrace. They rolled and moved together, enjoying the ease of their intimacy, writing a new symphony of physical and emotional rapture after so many years apart.

  Afterwards, they lay together basking in each other’s gaze. Brad traced his hand over the dip of her waist and rise of her hip savouring each second of this healing elixir.

  “How are you today, Brad?” Her smile dazzled him. She was more beautiful each day, even more than she had looked on the last day he had seen her on Earth fifteen years ago.

  If Brad had known they would get to share this time after she was gone, it would have made the pain so much easier to bear. “I’m in love with you, Helen. What could be better?”

  She giggled back and abruptly rose from the verdant hillside pulling him up with her.

  They held hands and walked up the hill, over the crest, and stopped, breathless, looking over the glorious vista that lay beyond. They saw a vast stretch of Alpine peaks, shimmering blue-green lakes and rich green forests with orchards and glades all round. The river running through the vista sparkled as though made of diamonds; so pure it was transparent all the way to the bottom. It almost sang rippling over and around the rocks enabling it to meander pleasingly through the landscape. No wonder he called it Eden. It seemed even more so because they were the only ones there.

  Helen drew him to the floor again. He lay on his back as she lay on top of him, gazing into his eyes. She pressed like a sudden weight on his chest, making him feel uncomfortable for the first time.

  “Brad, I need to talk to you about something.” She sounded concerned.

  It surprised him. A pang of concern began to flutter in his chest. Surely there was nothing to be concerned about, unless she had to leave him again? He couldn’t believe it would happen, so he put on a brave face.