T-Minus Two

by K. G. MacGregor

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t care. But I’m not going to sit on a stage smiling and clapping for somebody else when it should have been me.”

  “Yes, you will, Jancey. You can’t throw a tantrum for the whole world to see and then expect people to respect you. The Tenacity Project is bigger than us. It’s Mars! Besides, you don’t know yet what the board will decide. They might only bump us down, but we’ll still get to go. Fourth is better than not going at all. If you don’t believe me, ask Marlon.” A risky thing to say, since right now Jancey probably was wishing she’d chosen him instead.

  Jancey stopped abruptly and sat in a heap on the bed, looking as though she might cry. “I’ve never wanted anything so much in my life. I’m not going to apologize for that.”

  “You don’t have to. I’ve never wanted anything more than to go into space with you, and I’m not going to give that up. No matter how long that takes, we’ll make it happen.” She summoned every ounce of courage to join her on the bed, ever so slowly drawing her into a hug.

  Jancey resisted at first, stiffening at her touch. Then gradually she relaxed, laying her head on Mila’s shoulder. She allowed herself one sob before straightening and pulling away.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jancey had taken a long run along the coastal highway to burn the adrenaline her body had produced to fight or flee. Now freshly showered for the second time today, she felt the energy building inside again as they prepared for the announcement.

  For all her bluster about remaining loyal to the program, Mila’s face was a mask of gloom as they walked together into the lobby of Tenacity Centre, which had been set up with a podium and several rows of chairs.

  Mila had spent the entire morning hovering over her computer after receiving a digital copy of the photo from Grace. She had to see it for herself. If her incoherent grumbling was any indication, she’d grudgingly come to terms with its genuineness.

  “You were right. It’s not over yet,” Jancey said as they took their seats on the second row. “If it were an open-and-shut case, we’d have gotten our answer by now.”

  Grace had promised to text her about the committee’s vote. They’d been meeting in the conference room for over four hours, something Jancey took as a hopeful sign. Any discussion lasting this long meant others besides Grace were fighting for her. They needed only two or three members to force a compromise—perhaps launching in third or fourth place instead of first. She could live with that.

  Marlon slid into a seat beside her and looked around at all the reporters and cameras. “Pretty exciting, isn’t it? I bet you didn’t sleep at all. I, on the other hand, got my first good night’s sleep in six weeks.”

  She couldn’t bring herself to tell him about the controversy, not when the jury was still out. Once the rumors began to spread, she’d share with him the truth, no matter what the committee decided.

  “I’m so sorry about you and Jean-Paul. I know how much this mission meant to you. I hope you won’t give up.”

  After peering over his shoulder to see his partner conversing with Jerry, he lowered his voice. “It’s just as well. I’m not sure I could have endured a life in such a small space with someone so moody. I’ll try again in the next round. Maybe I’ll draw a better match.”

  “I hear you. I lucked out with Mila.” Notwithstanding the fact that they were on the brink of disqualification thanks to her carelessness.

  Their carelessness. It would haunt her forever that she’d been too lazy to get out of bed that morning, that she’d lolled around in a sensual haze while Mila went outside on her own.

  Cameras began flashing as the committee entered en masse with Sir Charles in front.

  Jancey’s heart sank to see Grace slip out the front door. Only one thing would have caused her to skip the press conference.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” Wearing the faintest of smiles on what should have been the project’s most triumphant day to date, Sir Charles walked the press and visitors through the basics of the selection process, details they probably knew from the briefing materials. Next was the launch schedule. “Without further ado, I’d like to announce our four teams. The first two people to colonize Mars…Americans Brandon and Libby Fagan.”

  “What the hell?” Marlon bolted upright in his chair and swiveled toward her.

  Jancey couldn’t bear to look at him. Nor could she take Mila’s hand, which tapped against her thigh.

  “They’ll be joined twelve months later by another couple, this one from Japan. Fujio and Suki Hatsu.”

  It wasn’t even close. You and Mila were nearly perfect.

  So how far would they fall?

  “…Kamal Sidhu from India and South Africa’s David Pillay.”

  She was shaking so hard, she gripped the table for support.

  “And our final team, representing America and France, Marlon Quinn and Jean-Paul Robillard.”

  It was all Jancey could do to breathe. Marlon was up and back-slapping Jean-Paul as if they were long lost brothers.

  At least her humiliation was confined to their colleagues, since the earlier results were never publicly announced. That said, it was only a matter of time before it was leaked why she and Mila had been disqualified.

  Already, Shel Montgomery had spotted her and was inching closer with her notepad.

  Jancey had no intention of sticking around for an interview. When Sir Charles opened the floor to questions, she took advantage of the reporters’ forward surge to slip out the side door.

  Grace was sitting on a teak bench beneath the portico, primly dressed for the press event in a pale yellow pantsuit and floral scarf. Judging from her red-rimmed eyes, she was as devastated as Jancey.

  “I’m so sorry. I did everything I could.”

  “I know you did. As bad as I feel right now, you have no idea how much it means to me to know I have a friend like you who would fight for me like that.” She tugged her from the bench. “Now let’s get out of here before the press finds out what happened. I left the keys to the Jag with Mila.”

  “For what it’s worth, Danielle Zion was in your corner too.”

  “Good to know.” Though it meant they were outvoted by the men. As much as that stung, at least this time there had been women in the room with a vote. “I had a feeling from the very beginning Sir Charles would want to send a couple…a straight couple. Looks like he got his wish.”

  A steady rain was falling, but Grace was prepared with a large umbrella, which she opened as they exited the portico toward the parking lot. “There’s still a chance, Jancey. I don’t think anyone on the board believes Marlon and Jean-Paul will survive the training together. It’s clear to everyone they rub each other the wrong way. If you and Mila stay close to the project, you might—”

  “Oh, no. I’m not going to hang out playing fifth fiddle. This was it. My last hurrah.”

  “Now you’re just being stubborn. Isn’t it better to launch seven years from now than not at all?”

  Jancey mulled over that question as they drove the seaside highway back to the house. “I could wait that long if I knew for sure if it would happen. But not with the uncertainty. I don’t think I could stand watching another open seat given to somebody else. Especially after we did everything we could to earn it.”

  “You did earn it. If not for that one mistake…you must be furious with Mila.”

  “Actually, I’m not.” Holding her emotions in check, she explained how she blamed herself for not performing a proper check. “If I’d done my job, we’d be getting ready for Mars.”

  “How is she taking it?”

  “We haven’t talked much. She spent most of the morning commiserating online with her friend in the Netherlands. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s in total denial.”

  “She’ll come around in a couple of days,” Grace said. “Sir Charles is very interested in having her stay on as part of the engineering
team. And he wants you to join the training staff. That would put you both in perfect position to step in if there’s an opening.”

  “The answer’s still no.”

  “If you won’t consider staying in the program for yourself, at least consider Mila. You two made the perfect team. She deserves another chance.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, but not another chance with me. If there’s one thing that’s abundantly clear, it’s that Mila and I do not make the perfect team. We make a terrible team. She’s a distraction for me. I’m a distraction for her. And astronauts can’t have distractions.” She huffed sarcastically at the thought of Brandon Fagan tapping his watch in the bar to hurry Libby along. “I think the only reason the Fagans made it so far is because they don’t like each other enough to be distracted.”

  Grace whipped the car into the driveway with such force that Jancey’s seat belt locked and dug into her shoulder.

  “Whoa! When did you turn into Danica Patrick?”

  “I hate it when you pretend you don’t have any feelings,” Grace fumed. “We both know it’s an act, so just stop it.”

  “Who cares if it’s an act? Feelings don’t matter in this business. All any of us really care about is getting to space.”

  Grace parked under the portico and got out and slammed the door.

  “Come on, Grace. Do you honestly think Mila cares more about me than going to Mars? If she does, then she doesn’t deserve to go.”

  “At least she cares about something.”

  After nearly twelve years of friendship, she could tell when Grace was deliberately pushing her buttons.

  “I know what you’re doing, Grace. What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to be true to yourself. The Jancey Beaumont I know doesn’t quit.”

  “Until now. Look at who they picked. Jean-Paul’s the oldest, and he’s forty-six. That’s only three years older than me. Do you seriously think they’re going to send me to Mars when I’m fifty?”

  She also feared the collapse of the Tenacity Project. If the first colonists failed to thrive—a reasonable concern since they weren’t sending their best team—the funders would pull the plug.

  Konani appeared in the kitchen and offered to fix chi-chis, but Grace waved her off, storming into the lanai where she poured a pair of Bushmills over ice. Jancey declined and watched her pound the first one back and carry the second to an overstuffed teak chair.

  It was tempting not to follow her but she knew it was expected. “I don’t get why you’re so angry at me. I’m the one who ought to be throwing things.”

  “So why aren’t you? You’ve just totally disengaged. You’re walking away from the chance to go to Mars. You’re walking away from Mila. I suppose you’ll walk away from me next.”

  “Why would I do that? You’re practically the only friend I’ve got.”

  “You have Mila. She loves you. That’s obvious to anyone with eyes.” She threw off her jacket and loosened her scarf before slumping deep into the plush cushions. “The first time someone comes along and gives you everything you claim to want, what do you do? You move the goalpost. What is it you want now?”

  “Right now I just want to screw it all. No more space program, no more university politics. And no more dead-end relationships.” She cringed at the self-pitying dejection in her voice. “I’ve got my property in Sedona. Maybe it’s time I put a house on it.”

  “So now Mila’s just a dead-end relationship. Do you really expect me to believe you aren’t blaming her for this? You’re throwing your whole future away so you can punish her. But on the outside, you’re putting on a face. You want everyone to think you’re noble…that you’re the one taking responsibility.”

  The accusation stung, especially coming from Grace, who had always been on her side, even when she was being borderline unreasonable. Was there truth to what she said about Mila? Undoubtedly yes. It was Mila’s fault, even though Jancey could have prevented it. Mila should have been responsible for herself, and she should have taken double care because she also had an obligation to her partner.

  Finally she’d met someone who could give her everything. Instead, that woman had taken it all away.

  “I need you to do something for me, Grace. You don’t have to like it.”

  * * *

  Mila found herself terrified behind the wheel of the expensive sports car. Four vehicles were lined up behind her, itching to pass at the first opportunity. When she reached a long stretch with a dotted yellow line, she slowed and let them around.

  She’d have been completely at ease piloting someone’s billion-dollar spaceship, but not Grace’s Jaguar. If something happened to it, she’d have to look her in the eye and take the blame.

  It annoyed her that Jancey had bailed on her with Grace, leaving her to talk to reporters on her own. She’d answered Shel’s questions by dancing around the truth, chalking up the results to the excellent performances of the four teams that were chosen. Not that her deflection would matter—word would get out eventually. Maybe Jancey had the right idea after all. She should have bailed too.

  She carefully squeezed into the garage, getting out twice to check the proximity of her rear bumper so it wouldn’t be crushed when the door came down. If she’d exercised this much care on Mauna Kea, they’d be readying for their trip to Mars. She’d never forgive herself for blowing the chance to be first, but was more determined than ever to ace the next trial.

  Grace and the dogs met her in the foyer. “Come into the lanai. Would you like a drink?”

  Until that moment, she’d never really understood the appeal of getting drunk. “No, thank you.”

  She expected to find Jancey in the lanai but she was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s Jancey? I should go talk to her.”

  “That probably ishn’t a good idea. Sh-she’s in a very bad mood.” A noticeable slur.

  “That makes two of us. I really thought they’d let us fly, even if it was third or fourth. Jancey always said we had to make them choose us because they wouldn’t want to.”

  “Probably some truth to that. Men!” Grace poured an amber drink from a decanter. “What really happened?”

  Mila wanted the answer to that as much as anyone. “I don’t know. It’s not like I did it on purpose. I can’t even remember it. Putting on the suit was automatic. Same order every time—from the bottom up. I just can’t believe I would have walked out before I put my helmet on.”

  There were other things that stood out as strange. The collar on the spacesuit was stiff. Without the helmet weighing it down, it would have stood up awkwardly. Surely she would have noticed that—just like she would have noticed the sun in her eyes as soon as she stepped outside. Her instinct would have been to retrieve her sunglasses. And Jancey was right about her cell phone. How could she have used it without her comm cap?

  And yet she had. A picture was worth a thousand excuses.

  “I should go talk to Jancey,” Mila said.

  “Let’s jush give her a while. She’s upset.”

  “Who could blame her?”

  Jancey had hardly spoken three words to her at Tenacity Centre, dismissing her apology by taking the blame herself. Then she’d put on a brave face right up until the moment Marlon and Jean-Paul got the nod.

  A single lapse so small she couldn’t even remember it. Their only chance was to try again in four years.

  “You know the committee, Grace. Is it worth coming back to try again?”

  “Absolutely! They didn’t want this to happen. It wasn’t the photo that upset everyone. It was the note…the note that came with it. It accused us of favoritism. Me in particular because Jancey was shtaying here.” The effects of whatever was in the decanter were becoming more and more apparent with her emphasis on certain words and dramatic hand waving. “They shaid it was obvious we picked Jancey before the competition ever shtarted.”

  That was bullshit, the kind of trash talk that spewed from sore losers. Even if it were true, why should
the committee have to defend their choice? It was their money. They could send whomever they wanted.

  “Charles has the skin of a boiled onion,” Grace spat. “Completely withers at the least bit of criticism. He couldn’t bear to have people say mean things about his beloved Tenacity Project. The child he never had. And everyone kishes his butt because they want to keep their jobs. All but Danielle…she’s got guts, that girl. I like her. I like her quite a lot,” she added, her lascivious look making her meaning clear.

  “Did you ever find out for sure who sent it, Grace? Was it Brandon Fagan?”

  “Who else? Sniveling…self-righteous…brown-nosing ashwipe. You should have heard him this morning when they called him in.” She slugged the rest of her drink and stumbled to the wet bar to pour another. In a whiny voice meant to mock him, she added, “This is so difficult for me, Sir Charles. I was worried if it got out later, people would question the overshight of the project.”

  “That almost sounds like a threat.”

  “I thought so too but Charles bought his pearl-clutching. Told us all it might jeopardize our support with funders. That’s what really shcared him…having his competence questioned. He had to look tough.”

  The whole episode sickened Mila, but she couldn’t push back at all. Faced with graphic evidence of someone skirting the rules, she might have voted the same way. She rose with dread and said, “I better go out there and talk to Jancey.”

  “No, no! Shtay here and talk to me. I want to know what you’re going to do next.”

  Her plea was so emphatic, Mila hurriedly sat back down. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure. Svein Helland wants me to stay with the program, but now I’m not so sure Sir Charles really wants that.”

  “He will if he wants my support.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Her greater concern was Jancey. From the very beginning, she’d vowed to call it quits if she failed to make the launch team. “I really need to see what Jancey’s going to do.”

  Grace let her leave this time, and she realized why as soon as she entered the guesthouse. Jancey’s blue flight suit, T-shirts and khakis—everything issued by the Tenacity Project—were folded neatly on the bed. But her suitcase was gone.