T-Minus Two

by K. G. MacGregor

  “That’s good, because I don’t think there’s anything we could have done better.”

  “I felt that way about all the NASA people going in. Too bad about Jerry and Wade though.” And Marlon, though she didn’t want to put Grace on the spot by asking where he and Jean-Paul had fallen short. It was hard not to notice their discord.

  “I’m just glad they’re all right now. Jerry will get another chance in four years when we draw the next crew.” Grace shook her head and sighed. “But Wade…I suppose he’s lucky he found out about his kidney condition now instead of later. That was very frightening for all of us.”

  “Did you ever find out where the contamination came from?”

  “No, the water truck was clean and so was the source.”

  “It couldn’t have come from anything Jerry and Wade did because all of us had it.”

  “Not all of you. Just the last four teams.” That was Jerry and Wade, the Fagans, Jancey and Mila, and the Clarkes.

  “That’s bizarre.” And it went against everything she knew about the concentration of microbes in a closed water source. The only rational explanation was contamination by the worker who’d delivered it. A moot point now.

  Grace tossed back her drink and set the glass on the tray. “As much as I’d like to stay and help you plan where to put the furniture in your new home, I need to get horizontal and let my Hennessy do its job.”

  * * *

  The warm breeze fluttered in off the ocean, a welcome change from the frigid nights on Mauna Kea. Mila lounged lengthwise on the love seat with Jancey leaning against her chest.

  “I’ll never be able to look at the night sky the same way again,” she said, relishing the soft tickle of Jancey’s fingertips along her forearms. “Especially Mars.”

  “Space draws me every day. It’s like being homesick…except I’ve never been homesick for any place here on Earth. I always had an insatiable longing to go out there, and once I did, all I could think about was going again.”

  “And all I’ve ever dreamed about was going with you.”

  “Thank you for keeping your promise.”

  Mila chuckled and nuzzled the smooth skin behind Jancey’s ear. “Which promise was that? I made so many.”

  “All of them. But mostly the one about winning. You promised me we’d win if I picked you.”

  That seemed like a century ago. “We both know I rode your coattails. I’d never be sitting here if I’d teamed with anyone else.”

  Jancey wasn’t so sure of that. Mila with someone else would have been stiff competition, a real challenge for her and Marlon. Even if they’d finished first, she wouldn’t have this feeling of exhilaration, this sense that everything in her life was now perfect. Not only was she returning to space, she was going with someone who could turn out to be the best thing ever to happen to her. That’s what Grace had tried to tell her—Mila was her chance to have it all.

  * * *

  Mila had nearly dozed off when Jancey left her arms, allowing the breeze to cool her chest. She would have been content to sleep under the stars, but it soon became apparent Jancey had something else in mind.

  With an almost robotic gait, she followed Jancey to the poolside cabana, where a platform bed with half a dozen overstuffed pillows was positioned so it faced the ocean. The canvas curtains that covered three sides of the structure shielded them from view of the house.

  Jancey eased her onto the bed before stepping away to light several candles. When she returned, she crawled slowly until she straddled Mila’s waist. “It’s time we had a talk.”

  Talking was the last thing on her mind when Jancey sat back on her heels and removed her shirt and bra. Then she hovered above, allowing her breasts to brush her face.

  She reached up to cup them but Jancey abruptly pulled away.

  “No hands,” she whispered.

  Again Jancey draped her breasts across her face, leaving one in place above her lips long enough for her to pull a rigid nipple into her mouth.

  And then she took it away.

  “I love you, Mila.”

  Though spoken as softly as the breeze, the words thundered through her. Words she feared she might never hear, now spoken like a solemn vow.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. My heart felt it, but I wanted to be sure it was about feelings, not urges.”

  “You were right to wait.” She ignored Jancey’s earlier admonition, clutching her hands to hold them over her heart. “And you were right about how it would feel to hear it.”

  “I’m going to make sure you know it.”

  Mila had never been one to submit in bed, and it was all she could do to keep still while her body was covered with kisses. Each effort to assert herself was met with a firm hand, a hardened thigh…whatever it took to hold her in place. It was only a matter of time before she lost the battle for control, and Jancey dictated the terms of her surrender.

  Jancey’s lips tightened to tug on her nipple as her hand slid into the moisture between her legs. She used the essence on her fingers to paint a trail from her breast to the inside of her thigh, leaving no doubt what she intended to do next.

  With her eyes tightly closed, she envisioned the path of Jancey’s mouth. From her breast to her ribs. To the concave hollow just above her hip bone. Along the smooth crease at the edge of her pubic curls that led to the source of her wetness. Lips smacked softly, halting and deliberate, but ending in a flurry as Jancey reached her ultimate target.

  Mila opened her legs and dug her heels into the foam mattress to thrust herself upward.

  Ever in control, Jancey was there to hold her down, wrapping both arms around her thighs and spreading her outer lips with her fingertips. Mila could do nothing but wait for the mercy that would come only when Jancey felt she had teased her enough.

  She pictured Jancey’s tongue as it changed shape and texture. One moment it was soft and flat, lapping her as if to drink every drop. Then it went rapier-thin, stroking her inside and out. Plenty of pressure to stir a climax if only it would linger long enough over her swollen core.

  Mila was bursting with want. When Jancey’s lips finally touched her where she needed it most, she broke the “no hands” rule again by gripping her head and holding it in place. “Give me this before I stop breathing.”

  Jancey looked up, smiling with her eyes, and answered her plea. Voracious. Unrelenting. Emphatic.

  They both lay still long after the tremors ceased, with Jancey resting her cheek on Mila’s thigh. The balmy air cooled her damp skin but it wasn’t unpleasant. Nothing could lessen her comfort, nor her happiness at being the one Jancey loved.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jancey awoke to the sound of voices on the veranda, a wide porch that overlooked the pool. She slid out of bed without waking Mila and peered through the slats of the shutters to see Sir Charles leaning against the rail as he spoke with Grace.

  Seven thirty a.m. Pretty early for a social call. The press conference wasn’t until two in the afternoon.

  As quietly as she could, she laid out her clothes for what would be a media day, a freshly pressed flight suit.

  By the time she stepped out of the shower, Mila had joined her in the bathroom. From her half-closed eyes, she wasn’t yet fully awake. “Any idea what all that yelling is about?”

  “Who’s yelling?” Jancey asked.

  “Sounds like Grace, but I can’t make out what she’s saying.” She rubbed her eyes and looked at Jancey. “How come you’re dressed in that?”

  “We have a press conference this afternoon. Did you forget?”

  “Evidently. You killed all my brain cells when you took my head off last night.”

  Jancey stretched up on her tiptoes and kissed Mila on the nose. “You are such an amateur. I’ll go up and see what’s going on while you revive your poor little brain.”

  She found them sitting in overstuffed bamboo chairs around a low table, each nursing a cup of coffee. Sir Charles and Grace. Though Duk
e and Sasha met her with wagging tails, the others were clearly upset.

  It was too early in the morning for them to be having a bad day already. Whatever their problem, it appeared to be a private matter. After a cordial greeting, she poured herself a cup of coffee and turned to leave.

  “Something’s come up, Jancey,” Grace said. She held out a glossy photo.

  Jancey hesitantly approached, noting their grim faces. It was an eight by ten color shot of their analog habitat. A sunny day. Morning, given the shadows tilted toward the west. Mila was outside in her spacesuit, apparently conducting her walk-around. Then she noticed what made it remarkable—she wasn’t wearing her helmet.

  That was a cardinal sin, enough to disqualify them from the competition.

  Obviously it was taken with a telephoto lens from the east. Not a perfect photo but clear enough. With everyone positioned along the same altitude, it could have come from the Fagans, from Jerry, or even someone farther away. “Where did you get this?”

  “I received it via email last evening when I got back to my room,” Sir Charles said.

  The Fagans had left immediately after dinner. “Do you even know if it’s real?”

  “It’s been authenticated,” Grace replied softly. “No evidence of Photoshop.”

  Authenticated. At least they hadn’t simply accepted it outright.

  This didn’t make sense at all. Why wasn’t Mila wearing her communications cap? They’d been in constant contact every time one of them went out. Every single time. “This must have been taken before the analog ever started. I remember we tried our spacesuits on when we were up there setting up the dome…we walked around a little to get used to them. Maybe Mila walked outside, but it shouldn’t have counted against us then.”

  Sir Charles shook his head. “My staff tells me it’s geocoded and time-stamped for last Thursday, just before we announced the Super X solar storm.”

  Jancey recalled the morning clearly. She’d stayed in bed while Mila had done the walk-around. In fact, she was still inside the sleeping chamber when Mila returned, so she hadn’t actually seen her in her spacesuit.

  She picked up the photo to study the details. No sign of Mila’s phone. No earbuds. No wireless device affixed to her ear. Her hands were encased in thick gloves, so it wasn’t feasible that she’d been using the tiny keypad on her cell phone. How was she communicating?

  “There’s something wrong here.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Sir Charles said. “A simple mistake might have been forgiven had Ms. Todorov admitted to doing this accidentally. Instead, she signed a form indicating she had obeyed all the rules and restrictions, and that clearly is false. I’m afraid there is no alternative but to disqualify your team.”

  His words hit her like a physical punch to the gut.

  Grace sat forward and shook her finger. “You’re being hasty, Charles. This is a decision for the committee. The entire committee. Regardless of this single incident—which could never actually happen in space—I would still argue that Mila and Jancey represent the project’s very best chance for success. At the very least, we should hear from Mila.”

  “Hear from me about what?” Mila walked casually onto the veranda and poured hot water over a teabag. She too was dressed in her flight suit, its sleeves rolled to her elbows. Her hair, still wet from the shower, was pulled back in a tie.

  Jancey could barely contain her pique at her casual demeanor. “You need to get over here and explain yourself before we get disqualified.”

  “What?”

  Grace took the photo from her hands and handed it to Mila. “This was sent to Sir Charles last night. Jancey was just telling us there must be a valid explanation for this.”

  Mila studied the photo in silence, her face growing redder by the second. “When was this taken?”

  “Last week…right before they called up to announce the Super X. You went outside that morning to do the walk-around.”

  She needed to hear Mila offer an explanation, however feeble it might be. Her helmet was broken. A bee had flown inside and she’d been forced to rip it off.

  “I have no memory of this. As far as I know, I always put on my helmet to go outside. It was automatic.”

  Under the circumstances, that was as good a response as any. An oversight was better than a deliberate flouting of the rules.

  Grace turned to Sir Charles. “Which means she was being honest when she signed her form saying she’d adhered to the rules. That’s something the committee should consider.”

  Jancey’s question was more pointed. “But do you distinctly remember wearing it? You talked to me while you were outside. Did you have it on?”

  “I…” She hesitated too long to be convincing. “I thought so.”

  “Your uncertainty is problematic,” Sir Charles said, and then turned to Grace. “The issue was raised by one of the competing teams, along with charges of favoritism. Everyone knows about your friendship with the major. That was something we all were willing to overlook when it became obvious they were the better team. This clouds that. I worry the press will focus on infighting among our astronauts instead of the mission. Or worse, they’ll criticize the whole project based on the selection process. We can’t allow something like this to undermine our integrity.”

  Jancey felt her panic rise as she whipped her head from Grace to Sir Charles and back.

  Grace shot her a worried look before pressing her case. “With all due respect, Charles, we owe it to all the members of the committee to allow them to make the decision together. Perhaps there is something short of disqualification…Jancey and Mila could forfeit their position and fly later in the rotation.”

  He lumbered to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane. “There’s very little time to act. We have reporters flying in this afternoon from all over the world. Call the other members of the committee. Tell them to come to Tenacity Centre right away.”

  If his dour tone was any indication, the meeting would be a waste of time.

  * * *

  Mila drew in a deep breath and grasped the door handle of their bedroom, relieved to find that Jancey hadn’t locked her out. She was shocked to see her stuffing her belongings into a suitcase.

  “What are you doing? Nothing’s been decided. They’re taking it to the whole committee. We might get bumped down but Grace won’t let them disqualify us.”

  “Don’t kid yourself,” Jancey spat, not even looking up from her task. “You heard what Sir Charles said. We went in with a strike against us because Grace was my friend and they didn’t want anyone to think they were playing favorites. And don’t think for a minute they wanted the first two people on Mars to be a pair of lesbians. We made them choose us. Our scores were so high, they had no other credible alternative. And now we’ve lost that advantage.”

  “I don’t know how this happened. I have no recollection of going out without my helmet but…”

  “But what?” The brusque tone wasn’t frustration or disappointment. It was anger.

  “It’s just that I’d taken that zolpidem a few hours earlier because I couldn’t get to sleep. It’s possible I did something without being aware.”

  “Great, so it’s my fault for making you take a sleeping pill. That’s rich.”

  “I didn’t say that. I’m just trying to figure out how it happened. I remember when I came back in telling you about Brandon Fagan staring at me. We joked about how creepy he was, how we wouldn’t ask him to dinner if we all ended up on Mars. I think he’s the one who took the photo. Maybe he was looking at me like that because I didn’t have my helmet on.”

  “It doesn’t matter who took the photo.” Jancey dumped the contents of the nightstand’s drawer into a small bag, zipped it closed and tossed it into her suitcase. “What I find so maddening, so…excruciating, is that I watched you go in and out two or three times a day for six weeks, and the one time I didn’t see you, you went out without your helmet.”

  It hurt to see her so quick
to believe the worst, though it was hard to argue with the evidence. Brandon Fagan obviously had caught her outside bare-headed. And being the jerk he was, he took a photo in order to bring her down.

  She shuddered to recall the night she’d exited the library and he’d all but accused her of cheating during the underwater exercise. The confrontation had unnerved her and caused her to doubt herself. It was Jancey who’d assured her then she’d done nothing wrong, but for all Mila knew, Brandon had taken his concerns to Zion, since she’d supervised the test. Now he was taking them to Sir Charles.

  One thing she remembered with crystal clarity was seeing him outside his habitat when she first stepped out. It pissed her off to think he just happened to have a camera and telephoto lens at the very moment she appeared without her helmet. He probably carried it with him all the time just waiting to catch her.

  Or what if all of it was a setup?

  It was perfectly rational to believe he had it in for her. Even though it supposedly had been authenticated, Brandon was too smart to get caught Photoshopping. He could have tweaked the time stamp on a photo that was taken before the analog ever started.

  “I need to figure this out,” she said.

  Jancey rolled her eyes dramatically and continued to pack.

  Mila grabbed her shoulders and forced her to pay attention. “Seriously. If I did this, I’ll take full responsibility. But I need to be sure.”

  “You can’t take full responsibility, Mila. You can only take half, and I have to take the other half. And you know what? I’m not even angry at you. I’m angry at myself. Protocols matter in space. Even the smallest mistake can kill you, and it was my job to check you. I let sex get in the way of that. I knew all along we needed to focus, and I didn’t. I let down my guard to satisfy my stupid libido. Whatever happens to us, I deserve it. We deserve it.” She jerked her shoulders free and stomped into the bathroom to collect her toiletries.