Orbital

Twenty-Four Testify

Admiral Jessup is waiting for me when I exit the elevator and step into the Penumbra reception area.

“Dixon,” he says, motioning me to a corner out of earshot of the armed guard.

“You just get here?”

“I’ve been here all morning.” He leans in closely. “Just listen. Okay?”

I give the guard an anxious look and nod my head.

“One of our cats peed on my wife’s favorite rug.”

“Uh, okay…” This came out of nowhere.

“She was pretty angry. She wanted to put him down. Even though it wasn’t his fault because we forgot to leave the pet door open.”

“Sounds harsh.”

“Yes. But she loved that rug. Good thing the next day the cat killed a rat that got into the house. Suddenly there’s no talk about putting him down.”

He stares at me, waiting for some kind of reaction.

“Okay…” I reply, not sure what he’s getting at.

He can tell I’m clueless. He lowers his voice to a whisper. “I’ll break it down for you. You’re useful as long as you’re useful. Get it? I’m going to teach you one important trick about this town. Never step foot into a room with someone who doesn’t need something from you.”

Oh. Snap. I’m the cat that peed on the rug.

Jessup is trying to tell me that these people are ready to send me to cat heaven if they don’t have any further use for me.

I’m about to ask how I work that angle but the receptionist comes out to escort us to the conference room.

Beth Saul is sitting at the end of the Penumbra table next to George Ozuki. Other than those two and Jessup, everyone else is new to me.

There was quick round of introductions and I heard CIA, DARPA and a few other agencies attached to names I only barely caught.

Flavor isn’t here. I eye his CIA colleague, a woman named Caroline Stennis, with wary apprehension. She’s got the athletic physicality and poker face I’ve seen in female prosecutors not afraid to stand inches away from a suspect and point a finger in their face and call them a murderer.

I catch her watching me back out of the corner of her eye. I don’t think it’s because she wants to know my relationship status.

“Mr. Dixon, before I turn this over to Mr. Ozuki, have you spoken to any of us about what transpired?” asks Saul.

“No. I made a statement in Canaveral. But that was it.”

“Has any of us or an intermediary given you instructions about how to answer any questions?”

Other than a cryptic story about cat pee? “No. Nobody has told me anything.”

She glances over at Stennis and the others. “I think we’re good to proceed.”

Ozuki is the first one to lay in with the questions about what happened. “Why did you ignore Flavor’s order to leave the astronaut?”

Jessup’s cryptic advice is still in the back of my mind. I want to ask if this is a legal inquiry but think better of it. They’ll railroad me no matter what if they want to.

I matter-of-factly reply, “The Outer Space Treaty of 1967 and the Rescue Agreement of 1968 specifically state that ‘In carrying on activities in outer space and on celestial bodies, the astronauts of one State Party shall render all possible assistance to the astronauts of other States Parties’.”

I’d stayed up late making certain that I had that one memorized.

“Very good, Mr. Dixon. Can you tell us which parts of that treaty you are in violation of?” asks Ozuki.

“Me personally? None.”

“None? Are you sure of that? Or are you trying to use the treaty as you see fit? What about Article 9?”

I see what he’s trying to do here. I think. He wants to show where I willingly violated the agreement so he can discredit my earlier argument. But why is he doing this? Shouldn’t Flavor’s pal be the one doing that?

He reads off from his computer, “Article 9 states, a State Party to the Treaty on whose registry an object launched into outer space is carried shall retain jurisdiction and control over such object, and over any personnel thereof, while in outer space or on a celestial body. Meaning that you trespassed onto Chinese territory in violation of the treaty.”

Thank goodness I had to spend so much time studying space law to get my FAA LEO license. “No. That is incorrect.”

“Incorrect? Please explain.”

“When I encountered the object it had no markings and was radio silent. There was nothing to identify the country that it belonged to. It had every appearance of space junk and was a potential hazard to other orbital objects.”

Ozuki taps at his keyboard for a moment, looking something up. “Yes. But every country registers an orbital track for their satellites. This is another means of establishing ownership.”

He knows I know the CS had changed orbit to shoot at our GRD satellite. “Correct. This satellite was not in a registered orbital trajectory.”

“But you could have inferred who it belonged to or asked?”

“Perhaps. Or the Chinese could have told us. In this case, the most expedient thing to do was to board the satellite and find out.”

“And when you boarded this satellite, what did you find, in reference to an occupant?”

“There was an astronaut in dire need of medical attention.”

“Did he specifically ask you for this?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Our CIA liaison…”

“Kevin Flavor?” adds Ozuki.

“Yes. Kevin Flavor cut our translator from the transmission before he could interpret what the man said.”

Stennis is making notes. I don’t know if this is good or bad.

“He cut the translator?” asks Ozuki. “Are you certain that’s what happened? I have a report here that says the call was accidentally dropped.”

“I can’t tell you if that was the case. But I recall Flavor ordering the translator specifically not to tell me what the astronaut said.”

“Let us hear that again.”

“Flavor told the translator to not interpret for the astronaut.”

“So how did you know the astronaut wanted assistance?”

“I inferred that when he grabbed my ankle. I had to raise my visor to hear what he was saying, but I roughly recall it sounded like Chinese for “Help.””

“But you’re unsure?” presses Ozuki.

“Of the translation? Yes. Of the intent? Absolutely not. He eagerly followed me into the airlock and into my spaceship.” Okay, that’s a stretch.

Ozuki turns to Stennis. “Do you know if Mr. Flavor speaks Chinese?”

“I have no information to that effect,” she replies coldly.

Ozuki checks his computer. “Didn’t he study Chinese at Georgetown?”

“I don’t have his personnel file in front of me, so I can’t comment.” She’s not amused.

I steal a glance at Jessup, but he’s too much of a pro to react.

What I think just happened is Penumbra threw this in the CIA’s face, telling them their boy screwed up big time and brought this mess about himself.

I guess that’s good for me. I just can’t tell if Stennis is actually glad to have a reason to go back to her bosses and tell them Flavor fucked up, or upset that they can’t pin it all on me.

What I can tell is that Ozuki has been on my side all along, despite his strongman tactics. He was counting on me to know my stuff. Thank god I did.

“Unless anyone else has any more questions, I think we’re done with this part of the meeting.”

Ozuki turns to Stennis. “Questions?”

She shakes her head.

“I have a question,” says Saul. “David, did you know that raising your helmet would potentially expose you to harmful doses of radiation?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you do that?”

“So I could understand the astronaut.”

“Would that have been necessary if you still had the translator on the line?”

Oh, man. She’s out for blood. Flavor’s… “That would have potentially made it unnecessary for me to do that.”

“And where have you been since the mission?”

“I spent three days in the hospital undergoing radiation exposure treatment.”

“Throwing up, from what I’ve been told.”

She’s laying it on thick. It was medically induced vomiting. But the people across the table don’t need to know that. “Correct.”

“I understand that after their rapid intervention, outside of any potential long term effects, the doctors have declared you fit to return to work?”

“Correct.”

“Are you willing?”

Willing to what? Don’t ask. Just go with it. “Absolutely.”