Orbital

Twenty-Nine Insecurity

Tamara motions for me to follow her up the ladder and out of the rotating habitat into the weightless section of the station. She says nothing, clearly wanting this conversation to be just between us.

We reach a long tunnel that ends in a sphere filled with windows. Below us, Earth is a bright blue disc being devoured by night as the station continues on its orbit.

Apparently satisfied that nobody can eavesdrop, she locks eyes with me. “Why the hell are you on my station?”

“Testing equipment,” I reply, trying to do my best impersonation of someone acting confused.

“Right. I’ve been going into orbit for twenty years on US and Russian space stations. The one thing I can spot is somebody who is here with an ulterior motive. What’s yours?”

“I don’t have one. I’m just here to do the same thing I did for iCosmos for the past several years.”

I can tell from the cross look on her face that she’s not buying it. “I can have you kicked off here and put back in the next ship.”

“And what would that accomplish?”

I was worried that people might have trouble buying my cover story. Tamara could be a major problem.

While we have no reason not to trust her, we can say the same about most everyone up here. And even if we did have total confidence in her ability to keep a secret, we don’t know if her communications are being monitored by an outside party.

There’s also the fact that Silverback, the leak in the intelligence community, has a number of people reporting to him that have no idea who they’re really working for. So no matter how much I may trust this woman, I can’t tell her anything.

We float in the observation sphere in a kind of stalemate. She’s waiting to see if I break and level with her. That ain’t going to happen. I can’t even hint at a secret motive because that will just give fuel to the fire.

“Alright, answer me this: Is my station safe?” she asks.

Ah, this is what it comes down to. She’s not so much worried that I’m a spy working for some shadowy agency, as much as that I’m here because shit is going to get real — like nuclear.

I guess that’s a reasonable concern given my track record.

“Ms. Collins, let me be perfectly clear, I know of absolutely no threat being made to this space station. My job here is purely research.” Both are technically true.

“I don’t know if you’re a genuine hero or just a shithead in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“My money is on the latter.”

“Maybe so. I just don’t know which scares me more. You’ve seen what we’re working on here. It’s bigger than any of us or any nation. This is where humanity figures out how we go to the stars.”

“I understand.”

“I’m not sure you do. Ever heard of Theoptra cave?”

“No…”

“It’s in Greece. Neanderthals lived there for a hundred thousand years, then homo sapiens moved in twenty-thousand years ago. They built a wall to block the cold wind. It’s the oldest man-made structure in the world and the first example we have of humanity altering his environment to adapt to changing conditions.”

“That’s fascinating.”

“You don’t get it. What’s my point?”

She and Jessup should get together and write a damn book about peeing cats and Neanderthals.

“I have no idea.”

“We’re here and Neanderthals aren’t because someone had a bold idea to put a lot of effort into making it possible to live where it was inhospitable. That’s the kind of thinking that made it possible for us to survive. That’s what this place is. It’s not playground for whatever geopolitical bullshit that you’re up to. It’s about making sure we don’t turn into a dead end species.”

Jesus, this isn’t a captain looking out for her ship. She treats this place like it’s Noah’s Ark and the one true hope for humanity. This is a religion.

I try to find a point of shared sincerity. “We’re on the same page. We want the same thing. I took this job because it was my best chance of getting back up here.”

She watches me for a second. I think I’m getting to her.

“Bullshit.”

Or maybe not…

She continues, “But I think part of you wants that to be true. I don’t know who your bosses are or what you’re doing, but let them know that I’ll be watching you real close.”

I wonder how much pull Penumbra has? Could they have her replaced? That might cause a lot of headaches and I really don’t want that to happen. But I’m not quite sure if she knows what kind of forces are at work here.

Or maybe she does, and that’s what scares her?

“Alright, let me show you to your lab. Where you can do whatever it is you’re pretending to do,” she says sarcastically.

Just like that, she’s back to being the friendly tour guide. I don’t know if it’s a personality quirk or an acquired trait from working in a close environment with people constantly breathing down your neck.

We go to the end of the section on the opposite side of the station.

The entrance to my module is through a secured door at the back of the section.

Tamara hovers in front of the glass door. “This is the American secure section. It’s your lab and three DARPA modules. You and them are the only ones allowed in here, besides me. And I can only enter the labs escorted or in the event of an emergency.”

“You’re welcome to see mine,” I reply, hoping that assuages some of her suspicion.

“I already have.”

I put a thumb on the lock and nothing happens. “Am I in the system?”

She pulls a tablet from her pocket and checks something. “Looks like that ID system is acting up again. We’ll just have you create a number password.”

I just nod, and pretend this security screwup isn’t a major red flag.