He doesn’t. Atlantis slips below the waterline and disappears.
**
Judd floats in the shuttle’s mid-deck. His eyes slowly open. It’s dark and murky and he can’t see a damn thing. The water is freezing.
Something presses down on him from above. He touches it, thinks it’s the mid-deck’s rear wall but can’t be sure. Whatever it is, the spacecraft is sinking, and it’s taking him down with it.
A hand touches his arm. He turns. The dead Frenchman floats in front of him. Judd pushes the body away, reaches out, searches for the hatch. He can’t find it, can’t see anything, can’t seem to devise an ingenious solution to this life-or-death problem. It’s too dark and so cold. His lungs scream, his head feels light. He thinks about Rhonda, hopes they can save her.
His eyes close.
A hand seizes his arm.
**
Corey drags Judd through the shuttle’s hatch. Light glints far above. It’s not gold or diamonds or treasure but something even more valuable, the ocean’s surface.
He kicks hard, wills himself towards it. This is not how he imagined his first swim in the Pacific would go. He hopes the surface is close because his lungs are burning and his head feels light. ..
He explodes out of the water, gasps air, drags the unconscious American to the surface. A wave swamps them, drives them into the hull of the carrier. It hurts more than he thought it would. He pushes his hand under Judd’s head to keep his face above water, scans the ocean. He’s not sure how long he can keep him afloat.
A Zodiac inflatable skid-thumps over the swell towards them. Corey’s thrilled to see it. ‘Thank you, US Navy!’
The boat swings around and hands reach down, drag them onto the deck. Corey moves to Judd, clears his mouth, listens to his chest. His heart has stopped. He pumps his chest. No response. A sailor leans over Judd, performs mouth-to-mouth.
‘Breathe! Come on!’ Corey pumps Judd’s chest but it’s not working. He’s not responding —
A cough, and water gushes from Judd’s mouth and he gulps air. His eyes blink open and find Corey, his voice a croak: ‘Thanks, Blades.’
Corey grins his crooked grin. ‘No worries, Mandy.’
**
53
One minute.
According to the doctor, when Rhonda hit the gurney she was one minute from death’s door. She’d be pushing up daisies if not for the exemplary work of the USS George H. W. Bush’s medical crew. And Judd. He landed a space shuttle on an aircraft carrier for her.
She lies in bed in the ship’s infirmary. Her newly relocated shoulder is numb, as is the bullet wound, but she’s not thinking about her injuries. She’s spent the time since she came out of surgery thinking about Judd, how he’d put his life on the line to rescue her. She thought she knew him so well but he had surprised her more than she thought possible.
The infirmary’s door swings open. It’s Judd. He wears a fresh flight suit but looks like he’s passed through the gates of hell, his face scarred and bruised, his left arm in a sling. Then he smiles and she sees his eyes are bright and, it seems to Rhonda, full of joy.
‘How are you?’
He gingerly sits in the chair beside her bed. ‘Cracked ribs, stitches. You?’
‘Better.’ She studies him. ‘Thanks to you.’ Tears fill her eyes. Surprised, she brushes them away with an embarrassed smile. ‘Oh man, I’m Costnering. Haven’t cried in front of anyone since I was seven.’
Judd grins. ‘It’s okay.’
‘I could have done more.’
He tilts his head, not sure what she means.
‘When you needed me I - I should have done more, to support you.’
‘You did it before the landing. That’s when it counted.’
‘Should’ve happened long before that.’
‘Don’t blame you. The way I was acting, it just - it wasn’t a good look.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
He gently wipes a tear from her cheek. ‘My God, tears, apologies? What have you done with Rhonda Jacolby?’ He nods at the intravenous drip connected to her arm. ‘Must be the morphine.’
She chuckles, then grimaces from the pain. ‘Please don’t make me laugh.’
‘Sorry, but it is great to hear.’
Her eyes find his and she studies him for a long moment, this man she thought she knew so well. ‘I missed you.’
He smiles. ‘Well, I’m back.’
She leans over and kisses him and realises she couldn’t be happier about that.
**
A deep noise rolls across the desert. It sounds like a thunderstorm except there are no clouds in the sky.
Spike looks up at the giant grey shape overhead. He turns and runs from it as fast as his little doggie legs will carry him, self-preservation overpowering curiosity.
The grey shape pulls into a tight bank then lands gently on the desert with a blast of red dust. Thirty metres away, Spike stops and looks back at the giant machine.
A figure emerges through the red dust. Spike focuses on it.
Corey.
Spike trots over and barks at him.
‘Somewhere at the bottom of the Pacific, mate.’
Another bark.
‘Long story, but yes, that’s why my clothes are wet.’
Another bark.
‘He’s on the aircraft carrier. Where the shuttle landed.’
A bark.
‘It’s true, and I’ve got to go back there now. I need to be debriefed or something. Mandy had to pull a favour so I could get you. Come on, we need to go.’
A bark.
‘I came back, didn’t I? If you’d been on the chopper you’d be at the bottom of the Pacific too.’
A bark.
‘I’m not doing that.’
A growl.
Corey takes a moment and sighs. ‘Sorry.’
A bark.
Corey hangs his head. ‘And I won’t do it again.’ He points at the Sea Stallion. ‘Can we go now?’
Spike barks, turns and trots away.
‘Where are you going?’
Corey turns to the two crew members sitting in the Sea Stallion’s rear compartment. He forces a smile then holds up a finger and mouths ‘one minute’. They nod, and both look quite unsettled.
Spike trots back to Corey, something swinging from his mouth.
‘My lucky bucket! You found it.’
A bark.
‘Finders keepers? No, it’s mine!’
Corey grabs at it but Spike scrambles out of reach. ‘Give me that!’ Corey quickly realises he’s never going to catch him and gives up. ‘Oh, for God’s sake, get in the chopper.’
Spike saunters towards the Sea Stallion. Corey’s right behind him. ‘You know that’s mine.’
They climb into the giant chopper and ten seconds later it lifts off in a blast of red dust.
**
EPILOGUE
It’s a perfect Houston dusk, the breeze warm, the sky burnt orange.
Spike barks.
‘Don’t know, mate.’ Weighed down with shopping bags, Corey scans the busy streetscape. Though he’s been living in Houston for the last three months he’s never been to this part of town before. ‘He said around here somewhere.’
Spike barks again.
‘Where?’
Corey turns, sees Judd approach along the footpath. ‘There you are. ‘Sup, Mandy?’
Judd smiles. ‘Hey guys.’
Corey grins his crooked grin. ‘See what I did there? I said “sup”. Learned that today. How’d it sound?’
‘Pretty good, actually.’
‘Picked it up it from the guy who sold me this.’ Corey gestures to the Cincinnati baseball cap emblazoned with a ‘C’ that sits on his head. ‘I’m thinking about wearing it at an angle.’
‘Nice.’ Judd pats Spike on the head then takes a couple of bags from Corey to lighten his load. ‘Get everything you
need?’
‘Reckon so.’ Corey’s been stocking up for his impending journey. If his experiences with the hijackers in the Northern Territory had taught him anything, it was that life could be short, bloody short. So, with some folding stuff in his pocket from the Loach’s insurance payout, he’s decided to hit the road with Spike and hitch around the States for a year, ‘to see what all the fuss is about’.
It’ll be hard to leave Houston. He really likes the place. Rhonda is great value and Judd has become a good mate. That he’d decided to find the whole talking-to-the-dog thing charming rather than off-putting means a lot to the Australian. And the guestroom at their house was deluxe. Spike even liked hanging out with The Ghost and The Darkness. But that wasn’t enough reason to stay. Corey had never travelled, had never even been out of Australia before, so he wanted to grab this opportunity and have an experience to remember. These were meant to be the best years of his life, after all.
‘Hey Corey!’ A convertible Mustang rolls past and a young couple twirl their hands above their heads as if they’re about to rope a steer. It’s been a common occurrence since Corey arrived for the debrief after the hijacking. A sailor on the USS George W Bush had used his iPhone to film the Atlantis landing and the most striking part of the footage was Corey standing up through the viewport, swinging the rope above his head like a lasso. With over fifty million views on YouTube the video had gone viral, and with it Corey E. Purchase.
‘Hey there!’ Corey excitedly twirls his hand above his head in response, then turns to Judd, amazed. ‘I have no idea who those people are.’
Judd grins. The Australian had taken his sudden fame in stride. They all had. The ‘Atlantis Four’, as Judd, Rhonda, Corey and Severson were now known, had become the biggest news story of the year. Instead of being a negative episode for NASA, the hijacking was spun as an upbeat, feel-good tale about three astronauts, an Australian and a dog who had prevented the shuttle from being used as a weapon of mass destruction. NASA hadn’t had this kind of positive press for decades so it milked it for all it was worth. The public relations blitz was unprecedented. The ‘Atlantis Four’ were everywhere, on news shows and the newsstand. Making the cover of DeLorean Magazine had been a personal favourite of Judd’s.
Corey looks up at the letters on the side of the building beside them. ‘What are we doing here? What’s IMAX?’
‘A movie theatre.’
‘Is Max the guy who owns it?’
‘No. It means it’s a big screen. Max as in maximum size.’
‘Right. So what’s the movie?’
‘Remember you said you wanted to see the view from orbit? Well, this is the best way to do it, apart from actually being in orbit. The movie’s called Magnificent Desolation and IMAX is the only place to see it. It’s about the moon.’
‘Cool magool.’
Spike barks.
Corey shakes his head. ‘Pretty sure you’ll have to wait outside, mate.’
Judd will miss the Australian. He’d shared a lot with Corey over that day in the Northern Territory and not much of it had been sweetness and light. Judd had, at times, been a bit of prick, but, in his darkest moments, Corey had come back for him with a very big herd of cattle and had dived into a raging ocean to pull him out of a sinking spaceship, so Judd knew exactly the kind of man he was and was happy to call him a friend.
‘We going in?’
‘Gotta wait for Rhonda. And Severson said he might drop by —’
‘Here she is now.’ Corey nods at Rhonda as she approaches.
‘Hey Corey, hey Spike.’ She lays a kiss on Judd then shoots him a wide grin.
‘You look happy.’
‘I am.’ It’s taken a while but she’s back to feeling her old self. Her experience since the hijacking had been quite different to Judd’s, any post-traumatic stress he’d felt had been offset by having shared the journey with Corey, and as the Australian loved to talk, they had talked it out at length. But Rhonda had no one who directly understood what she’d been through and she found it hard to explain to Judd, even considering how supportive he’d been during her recuperation.
She’d thought about the Frenchman quite a bit. In spite of the circumstances she still had difficulty coming to terms with his fate and was surprised by how it weighed on her. She also wondered if the 9/11 conspiracy, which the Frenchman had been so sure of, was real or imagined. Of course the truth had died with the hijackers, and Edgar, who had a heart attack while gardening a day after the hijacking ended, but it would still cross her mind from time to time.
Judd takes her hand and they move towards the cinema. ‘So why are we happy?’
‘I just heard.’
He stops, looks at her, shocked. ‘It’s on?’
‘It’s on. Official announcement’s tomorrow.’
‘And?’
‘We’re in! First group.’
‘Oh, man.’ They embrace, euphoric.
Corey watches, confused. ‘What’s on?’
‘Mars!’ Judd turns to him. ‘We’re going to Mars.’
‘Well that’s bloody fantastic!’
It sure is. As a result of the hijacking the shuttle program had been cancelled, NASA reluctantly deciding to utilise Russia’s Soyuz launch vehicles to service the International Space Station for the rest of its operational life. The hijacking also prompted a swift review of the space program’s security measures and its long-term objectives. The rumour being that the White House would declare a new goal for NASA, capitalising on the renewed interest and goodwill generated by the ‘Atlantis Four’, which the President hailed as ‘an unexpected yet indisputably galvanising “Sputnik” moment’.
That goal, as Rhonda had just informed Judd, is the red planet. Best news of all is that being a member of the ‘Atlantis Four’ meant that Judd, along with Rhonda, had been included in the first group of astronauts to train for the mission, something that would not have happened before the hijacking. He may yet fly into space again and no longer be that guy, the one-hit wonder.
As awful as the hijacking had been, Judd now realises it changed everything for him. The Frenchman and Tango in Berlin had, unwittingly, helped repair his faulty life and for that he feels oddly grateful. The world even thinks he’s a steely-eyed missile man after he performed the impossible and landed a space shuttle on an aircraft carrier. Personally he’s not sure. He’d only found the confidence to make the landing because of a moment of reassurance from Rhonda and a mantra of self-belief from Corey. And once Atlantis was on deck it only stopped because of the barrier net, and even then it ended up in the drink, after which he would have drowned if not for Corey . . .
Behind Rhonda something catches Judd’s eye. She turns to where he’s looking. ‘What?’
The colour drains from Judd’s face and he glances at the Australian. ‘Corey?’
‘Hmm?’
‘Remember the black chopper, the one Severson blew up?’
‘Yes.’
‘And how you thought you might have seen —’
‘A parachute?’ Corey studies him cheerlessly. ‘Why are you asking me this?’
‘You saw a parachute.’
‘How do you know?’
Judd points down the footpath. Twenty metres away Corey focuses on a man with blond hair wearing a trench coat. ‘Oh, damn it!’
Rhonda’s confused. ‘What’s going on? Who’s that —?’
‘Tango in Berlin.’ Judd and Corey say it together.
Rhonda studies the blond man, astonished. ‘That’s - Dirk? The hijacker? I thought he was dead.’
The German sweeps back the right side of the trench coat and draws out a sawn-off shotgun.
‘So did I.’ Judd turns to the crowd gathered by the cinema’s entrance. ‘Everybody down!’ They look at him like he’s mad, then they see the blond man swing the large shotgun towards Judd and they scatter to the four winds.
Judd moves fast, drags Rhonda, pushes Corey
and kick-sweeps Spike behind a white Toyota parked on the roadway nearby.
The shotgun fires and the Toyota’s back window explodes. Shards of glass spray as they crouch behind the car’s boot. Judd can’t believe he’d been feeling grateful to this guy a minute ago.
Velocity Page 29
