'It's been bugging me too.'
Banin sat back down again. He leaned in close, eyes alive with curiosity.
'Did you hear? They sent someone up to get Sally. She's here in this hospital, in fact. They brought her in this morning from Kazakhstan.'
'So Bales was telling the truth …' Sean muttered. He shifted up into more of a sitting position, which drew fresh pain from his shoulder. Banin leaned in to help him. 'Thanks. But you know what's been bugging me most?'
'What?'
'Ruth Shaw.'
Banin wrinkled his brow. 'How do you know about Ruth Shaw?'
'She was the only survivor of the group at Roswell that discovered the first vessel. Why?'
'I did some digging on Bales' — Banin reached into his pocket and passed Sean a folded piece of paper — 'and look what I found.'
Sean unfolded it.
'That's a photo of Ruth,' Banin said.
'God — she looks just like Sally.'
'I know.'
Sean stared at it for a while, thinking. 'Here's an idea: you don't suppose that Bales' father, Rupert, was the scientist in Ruth's story, do you?'
'I don't know the story.'
Sean told him.
* * *
It was the crushing weight that woke Sally, a heavy force that sat on her chest, making it difficult to breath. She was lying in a bed — a hospital bed — and beside her was a trolley carrying a selection of machines wired to her arms and chest. It was dark, the only light the soft glow of dawn peeking through the drawn curtains. She tried to move under the uncomfortable and unfamiliar force of gravity, and the sting of the IV drip in the back of her hand made her wince. She lay there for minutes, hours, listening to the sound of talking through the door. Occasionally a head would flash past the window, too quick for her to see if she recognised the person it belonged to. As the light behind the curtains built, so did her hunger. She could feel it rumbling beneath the bed sheets, and she willed food to come to her. Eventually, it did, riding on the back of a silver trolley, wheeled in by a young, kind-faced nurse.
'Good morning, Sally,' the nurse said, smiling. 'It's good to see you awake. How are you feeling?'
'Hungry,' Sally said, wincing as she heaved herself up.
'Here,' the nurse said, 'let me.' She pressed a button on the side of the bed and the top half folded upwards, bringing Sally into a sitting position.
'If you need to adjust it yourself, it's just here,' the nurse said, showing her.
'Thanks.'
The nurse wheeled a tray over to Sally, sliding it over the bed just above her lap, then transferred the food and drink from the trolley. There was a bowl of cereal, a jug of milk and a glass of orange juice. It all looked very appealing to Sally, and she eyed it with gusto.
'I hope you enjoy it, and I'm so glad you made it back okay,' she said, beaming. 'I hear you're quite the heroine.'
The nurse continued talking, but Sally didn't really hear it. Her mouth went dry and her appetite vanished as she remembered everything.
'Mikhail …' she whispered.
* * *
'That makes sense,' Banin said.
'What does?'
'Well, here's the thing: Ruth Shaw is Bales' mother.'
'Bales' mother?'
'Yeah. That's how I came across her. She was moved to a psychiatric facility shortly after he was born. Made it a real pain to track her down. I eventually found her file in an old folder of declassified NACA material from the fifties.'
What was a smear of a thought at first grew to a clear and definite idea in Sean's mind. Bales didn’t want the vessel destroyed: he wanted to protect it. 'So it's happened before, and now it's happening again …' he said, thinking aloud.
'What has?'
'The first vessel, the one at Roswell in Ruth's story — maybe it didn't have the chance to do what it needed to do before it got destroyed. Maybe Bales has been trying to make sure that whatever went wrong then didn't happen again this time around. The first vessel chose his father and his mother to make him, but when it was destroyed, the result — Bales — was tainted somehow. So now the vessel is back, and Bales has chosen Sally to … to try again.'
Banin was shaking his head in disbelief. 'That's a big stretch of the imagination …'
'But think about it: Bales said we were wrong about what we thought of him and it seems he was right, so perhaps we've been wrong about everything else, too?'
'You think that Bales is working with an alien spaceship to produce … well, I don't even know what.'
'I — I think so …'
They both laughed, Banin's a hearty rumble. 'It sounds like madness when you say it out loud,' he said, 'and maybe it is.' His laughter faded and his eyes shone. 'But maybe — just maybe — it isn't.'
Epilogue
'Doctor!' the nurse called out through the open door, before turning her attention back to Sally. 'Don't worry, everything's going to be okay.'
Sally found it hard to believe. Mikhail's memory had hit her like a train, the full force of it knocking her clean off her heels. He was gone, forever, and she was never going to see him again. A man in a white jacket skipped in through the door.
'Is everything okay?'
The nurse looked anxious. 'I think it'd be best if you update her,' she said, taking a step back.
The doctor nodded, pulled up a chair and sat next to Sally's bed. She watched him, not caring what he had to say — it wouldn't bring Mikhail back, whatever it was.
'You had some serious head trauma,' the doctor said in a kind but serious way. He brushed the greying flecks of hair that fell in front of his eyes back again. It was strange, Sally thought, being back here, back on Earth, talking with normal people about unimportant things. As she looked into the doctor's eyes, she imagined the journey she might have had, the worlds she might have visited, if only she could have stayed. She thought about everything Mikhail had told her, that she would be an important part of mankind's future, and she smiled sadly. The doctor mistook this as a positive reaction to whatever it was he was saying, and returned the smile.
'I'm glad that you're coming along well. You'll be fighting fit in no time, and despite the problems, your baby will be too.'
The doctor's words brought her thoughts back to the present in an instant. 'What?' she whispered.
'Sally,' the doctor said, his smile gone. 'I thought you knew? You're pregnant.'
All she could do was cry.
She spent the rest of the day in something of a daze, stuck in a subconscious netherworld that wouldn't let her go. Even though her body was on Earth in a hospital bed, her mind was two hundred and fifty miles up, still on board the ISS. She replayed her final moments with Mikhail over and over, watching him writhe and thrash in his last few minutes of life. She didn't watch by choice: she was trapped there, forced to relive the horrible scenario for what seemed like forever. Time had lost its power over her, until at last wake gave way to sleep and she slipped into unconsciousness. But she was not afforded rest in her sleeping state; she was still trapped aboard the station.
But this time, the station was empty. It was quiet. There was no Mikhail, no Novitskiy, no Chris, no Gardner — just her. Only the latent hum of the life support systems were there to keep her company. Perhaps she would go and look at it one last time. Perhaps that's what her mind needed to let go and move on. She could never be free of her love for Mikhail, but there was a chance she could be free of this place.
The weightlessness of low Earth orbit was a welcoming relief on her joints and muscles, which had been tender under the unfamiliar press of gravity. She floated with ease through the lab, up into the narrowing cone of PMA One, over the cargo bags filling the bottom half of the FGB. The yawning chasm of the downward chute into the MLM no longer held fear over her; she hovered above it for a time with butterflies of anticipation dancing in her chest. She took a breath and dropped down into it, the spinning orientation no more confusing to her now as her womb would be t
o the baby inside her. The window looking back glowed with the eminence of Earth, the singular world that homed the billions of people who tore at each other's throats through greed and desperation.
But when she looked up to fill her vision one last time with the familiar shape of UV One — it was gone. Nothing but empty, black space was left behind. Somehow, she felt she'd known this would be the case. A part of her even wondered if it had been there at all. She stroked her abdomen, and even though it felt as it always had, the touch of flesh on flesh was enough to convince her that the part of her that wondered was wrong. An overwhelming sadness stung her eyes, but she smiled anyway. Her love was fleeting, but it had changed her life. 'Goodbye, Mikhail,' she said to the empty space.
'Goodbye, Sally.'
A jolt of surprise and excitement shot through her like electricity, and she span round as fast as she could to face the voice. It was Mikhail, and he looked younger than he had when he'd died. More like he did when he'd appeared in this very module, naked and confused. His boyish grin and tanned skin made him glow, but there was something else … something Sally couldn't place. He seemed more than alive, he seemed — heavenly.
'Mikhail!' Sally squealed, and threw her arms around him. She savoured his reciprocal hug, his gentle touch filling her with a comfort that felt like home. They parted, even though Sally never wanted the embrace to end, because she wanted to see him again to make sure he was real.
'Sally,' Mikhail said. 'I miss you.'
'I miss you, too.'
'And I'm so proud of you.'
Sally giggled. She couldn't help herself. 'Why?'
Mikhail's grin became a radiant smile, loving and true. 'Because I am. Because you're the mother of change, the seed of hope for the future of the human race. If that isn't enough reason to be proud, I don't know what is.'
They embraced again, and this time Sally really didn’t want to let go. 'I can't do this by myself,' she said into the folds of Mikhail's neck. 'I need you with me.'
'I'll always be with you,' he said. His voice was so quiet, yet so close. It sounded almost like it was coming from inside her. 'You'll have my memory for as long as you live.'
Sally's grip became firmer, more desperate. She was no longer holding him to greet him, she was clinging to him to stop him leaving. 'But that's not enough …' she whispered.
'You won't be alone,' Mikhail said. 'You won't ever have to be alone.'
They held each other in silence. Time still had no meaning, but for now, Sally didn't mind. She wanted the moment to last forever. As they floated there, together, she dozed, comfortable and at peace. 'I don't know what to do,' she mumbled, half asleep.
'Don't worry,' Mikhail said. He stroked her hair. 'You'll do just fine.'
When Sally woke up, it was as though she had awakened from hibernation, a long, deep sleep that had cleansed her body and her soul. As she blinked in the morning light, she was pleased to find that the nagging in her mind had gone. It had left a lucidity behind that was pin sharp and focussed, and for some reason, it made her happy. The radiance of the early morning sun warmed her body, pressing against her like the last lingering moments of Mikhail's caress. You'll do just fine, he'd said. She believed she would.
Although she felt much better, the doctor insisted she stay for a while to make sure everything was okay. It was the first documented example of conception in space, and they wanted to be certain that there had been no adverse affects. So far, so good, it seemed. The staff were understanding and compassionate, and she even had a visit from Aleks, who brought her a bunch of flowers and a card. He told her about Bales, who had set him up. He told her about Ruth Shaw and the first vessel, and she listened intently, feeling as though, somehow, she had heard the story before. But she couldn’t have, so she listened anyway. Then he told her about Gardner and Chris, which saddened her. They hadn't made it.
The next day, she had another visitor, but this one she didn’t know.
'Someone to see you, Sally,' the nurse said, leaning around the door. 'Says his name's Sean.'
Sean? Aleks had mentioned a Sean. The same one perhaps? 'Send him in.'
A young, scrawny guy with tatty clothes and a sling around his arm appeared in the doorway. He looked anxious, and he hovered there until Sally told him he could come in. Pulling up a chair, he sat down beside her, slicking his hair back in a most nervous way.
'Hello, Sean,' Sally said. She was curious about this man. There was a sense that she had met him before, even though she knew she hadn't, because at once she felt safe with him there. 'What can I do for you?'
Sean grinned the nervous grin of a job interviewee. 'Thanks for seeing me,' he said, 'and congratulations by the way.'
Sally stroked her abdomen. It was almost becoming habit. 'Thank you.'
'I suppose you're wondering why I'm here …'
'Aleks told me about you. He said you saved my life.'
Sean looked down. 'I don't know about that,' he said. 'I didn't do much.'
'You're being modest.'
'Yeah, well … maybe. Maybe not. I don't know. Anyway, I'm here because —' he faltered, stuck on a word, '— because I want to ask you something. I suppose you know that I'm a journalist, but I'm here on personal business. Not a press badge in sight.'
Sally gave him a polite smile, encouraging him to continue.
'What I want to say is that, I — I want to help you. With the baby. That sounds weird, I know, but I've been following your story for what feels like a lifetime, and although we've never met, I feel like I know you. I know what you're going through, and I want to be there to help you through it.'
If Sean had looked nervous before, he looked terrified now. Whether he knew it or not, he was gripping his chair tight. Sally could see from his face that his intentions were pure. Mikhail's voice echoed in her head: You won't ever have to be alone.
'That's very sweet,' she said. 'I'd like that.'
Sean grinned, looking relieved. 'Thanks,' he said. 'I promise I won't be any bother. It's just — you'll think this sounds silly — I had a dream the other night where I met this guy …'
He flushed red. 'Well, the details aren't important, but what I'm trying to say is that I feel this is the right thing to do. And I want to do it, too.'
Sally knew at once who he'd dreamed about. She and Sean talked for the rest of the day, their conversation wandering aimlessly, but staying strong. She was glad she had visitor privileges, because she found Sean fascinating, and he seemed to think the same about her, too. There were a lot of qualities in him that she had liked about Mikhail, and although the reminder of him made her sad, it cheered her to relive the joking and the laughter she'd shared with him. I'll always be with you, Mikhail had said.
Sean left late in the night, when he had insisted Sally get some sleep. He was right — she needed the rest, even if she didn't want it. Sean promised he'd be back first thing the next morning, and he was true to his word.
'What do you think he's going to be like?' he said, picking at the bowl of grapes by Sally's bed.
'Who?' Sally said.
'The baby. Who else?'
'Who said it's going to be a he?'
Sean shrugged, and popped another grape into his mouth. 'I dunno. It just seems … right.'
Sally didn't argue, because she agreed with him. She couldn't quite remember, but she was sure Mikhail had referred to the baby as he, too. 'I don't know,' she said. 'As long as he's healthy, I guess I'm happy.'
'But you must wonder what all this means? What he's going to be capable of? What he's going to do?'
'I suppose. But there's no point guessing for now. I'll just take it as it comes, with an open mind. Best to wait and see rather than fill my head so full of thoughts I miss it when it happens.'
Sean gave her a look that made her blush, something like admiration. 'You're a wise women, Sally Fisher,' he said.
Two days later, and the doctor deemed Sally well enough to leave. The thought of entering the wide wor
ld again filled her with trepidation, but not because she was scared of it, not quite — she was scared of normality, of sinking back into the routine that had left her cold and alone for so much of her life. The hospital had been something of a sanctuary, a purgatory that blurred the line between life up there and life down here. She stroked her abdomen, which made her smile. She had nothing to be afraid of, not anymore.
'Are you okay?' Sean asked, holding the door open for her.
'Yes, I am,' she said. 'I'm more than okay. I'm the best I've ever been in my entire life.'
If you enjoyed reading Vessel and would like to read Andrew J. Morgan's Noah's Ark for free, please review this book and subscribe at andrewjamesmorgan.com, where you'll be able to keep up-to-date with all the latest from Andrew J. Morgan. You can either review Vessel on Amazon here or by scrolling to the end of the book. Thank you, and I hope you enjoyed Vessel.
Vessel Page 27
