This off-the-cuff excuse seemed to take Bales by surprise, and he recoiled, as if in embarrassment at disturbing Aleks at such a personal moment. But it didn't last long. Bales leaned across Aleks to take control of the mouse, which he steered towards the RFSA intranet icon. He clicked it. The home page opened and he clicked the button to log in. The screen refreshed and Aleks' heart sunk: in the username box, Bales' details had been remembered, and they burned in bright, digital letters as clear as day. The game was up. Bales stood tall, triumphant, and gestured to the security guards that had also appeared in the doorway.
'Take him,' he said, and left the room.
Just before the guards got to him, Aleks put his hand in his pocket, found his phone and squeezed the button he hoped was SEND.
* * *
'Because of Gardner? Why?' Sally said, grasping Novitskiy by the lapels.
Novitskiy pulled himself free and moved away from her. 'Maybe you should ask him,' he said. 'It's his fault, not mine.'
A scuffle from the MLM entrance made them both look up to see Chris making his way towards them. He was out of breath. 'Guys, come quick. You need to see this.'
Without another word, he flipped around and shot back out again. Novitskiy followed, and Sally after him. She tried to keep up with them as they darted from module to module, but at this speed she kept crashing into things as she misjudged her trajectory. She kept close enough to see Chris and Novitskiy disappear left into Node Three, where the Cupola was. She had been in there once before: it was a viewing module that bulged downwards and had the best view of Earth on the station. She tumbled in to find all three of the others looking out in the same direction.
'What is it?' she said, scrambling over to look. Through one of the Cupola's many windows, she could see what looked like a metal can with a ball at one end and squared off wings at the other.
'It's TMA Ten M,' Gardner said. 'It’s the Soyuz capsule that Romanenko took.'
It drifted on a path that seemed to be taking it close by them.
'Mikhail …' Novitskiy whispered.
Both hope and horror stirred inside Sally at once. She tried to dismiss the thought that TMA Ten M had become a floating coffin. 'Can we use it for spares?'
'We can do better than that,' Gardner said, staring out at the spacecraft. 'We can use it to go back home straight away.'
'If it's in good condition we just need to fuel up and we're out of here,' Chris said.
They all looked at it in dreamy silence.
'So how do we get it?' Sally said, her voice sounding loud after the quiet.
'We'll have to do an EVA,' said Gardner. 'The robotic arm won't reach. Two of us in EMU suits should have enough thrust to dock it. At a rough guess, it looks like it'll pass by in about an hour, so we need to move fast.'
Sally and Novitskiy stayed in the Cupola as Chris and Gardner left to suit up. Soyuz seemed to be moving quicker than Sally had first thought, and she wasn't sure they even had an hour. 'How long does it take to get outside?' she asked.
'About half an hour at a rush. It's very risky doing it so quickly, but they've done it many times. They should be okay with the buddy system checks.'
Now Sally was alone again with Novitskiy, she couldn't help but ask the question burning in her mind. 'Why is it Gardner's fault that NASA aren't coming for us?'
Novitskiy made a noise in his throat. 'NASA don't send astronauts like him. Not unless — well, lets just say his being here is a bad omen.'
'You're talking about TMA Eight, aren't you?'
'Yes.'
'Were you on it?'
'Yes. We were lucky to get out alive.'
'This is a suicide mission, isn't it?'
Novitskiy was staring out at Soyuz, the Earthlight soft on his face. 'It's called forlorn hope. When they send someone like Gardner, it's because they don't expect them to come back.'
Sally looked at Soyuz with him. Its foil shell and paper-thin solar wings made it look so delicate she could crush it between her thumb and forefinger. 'Do you think he's still alive in there?'
Novitskiy didn't answer.
Soyuz had drawn level with the station when two white figures came into view. Their gleaming gold visors twinkled as they directed their bulky EMU jetpacks towards the craft. They negotiated a path that intercepted the vehicle, and as it passed by the Cupola, they used their EMUs to steer it towards the MRM Two docking module. Working together, they pivoted the vehicle onto its end, slowing it as it drew level with MRM Two. Watching the slow, graceful manoeuvre was mesmerising, every gentle change of speed and direction fluid and controlled, every metre closer causing Sally's chest to flutter with anticipation. The journey home was within their grasp. 'Come on …' she whispered.
With the nose of Soyuz in line with MRM Two, all they needed for a safe docking was a straight line. Sure enough, the two white-suited men directed Soyuz's guide probe into the mating adaptor, where it locked in and came to a rest.
'Ha haaaa!' Novitskiy cried out, and Sally hugged him, charged with excitement. Novitskiy pushed her away, and she looked at him, hurt, only to see that his face had become pale. Fearing the worst, she looked back out the Cupola window where one of the astronauts was grasping at his helmet, writhing and spinning out of control away from the station. The other, on the opposite side of Soyuz, hadn't seen, and was making his way back to the station in the opposite direction.
'Follow me!' Novitskiy yelled, and Sally sprang after him, paddling as hard as she could to chase him down the station. She reached Harmony where her sleeping quarters were; just beyond, Novitskiy had stopped, pulling at Velcro tabs holding a sheet of wall panel to the module's frame.
'Help me pull this off,' he said, but Sally was already on it, peeling the sheet away to reveal the bronze head and white body of the R Two GM robotic astronaut. 'Grab an arm and lift.' Sally did as she was told. Together they hoisted the strange, legless figure from its cradle. They headed back towards the Cupola with it, turning into the opposite module, Quest, where Sally and Gardner had first entered the station. The room seemed bigger, as the two space suits were missing. Novitskiy opened the inner airlock and they fed the robot in, shutting the door behind it.
'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.'
'Okay,' 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 weeks 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 okay,' Sally said, putting her hand on his. 'I saw the whole thing. You did the best you could have possibly done.'
Chris snatched 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 okay,' 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 dessert 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 everything 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.
Hands 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 f
rom across his face, a welcoming smile revealing his dirty teeth.
'I need somewhere 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 said, 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 just 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?'
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