Vessel

27

“ALL RIGHT, THAT’S about it for right now.” Cal tuned out the chatter around him in Mission Control so he could focus on the crew, which was now somewhere past Mars and close to ERB Prime. “Anybody have anything else I need to know about?”

On the screen overhead, the crew glanced at one another, and Navarro nudged Nate. “Go on, Doc. Ask him.”

Nate sighed. “So these guys—”

“And you, too,” interjected Navarro.

“Fine; we just wanna know why NASA is stealing our thunder.” Whatever Nate was talking about, Cal could tell it wasn’t his idea to bring it up, whether he agreed or not.

“What do you mean?”

“One of the techs told us about the interview with the Wells family. We watched it.”

Cal chuckled. “You and a few million other people, Nate.” It had been a ratings bonanza, no doubt fulfilling Paul Lindholm’s wildest dreams. Americans had tuned in to hear about the sole survivor of Sagittarius I, and how her family felt after getting her back from the dead. Lindholm probably hadn’t been thrilled that David and Catherine admitted they’d filed for divorce. But the real surprise of the night hadn’t been the announcement, but rather their daughter, Aimee. She’d turned out to be well-spoken and incredibly bright—and already gunning for a job at NASA.

“So who’s going to listen to what we have to say about TRAPPIST-1f when we come back?” Nate asked.

“I thought you said you watched the interview. Come on, guys. Nobody was paying attention to a few vague artistic renderings from years ago. She came back, yeah, but her memories didn’t.” Cal was suddenly aware that most of the staff in Mission Control had stopped to listen to what was supposed to have been an ordinary status meeting. “The story there was all about how she survived a tragedy. God willing, that’s not the story you guys will be telling—and you’ll have some hard information about another planet. Trust me, gang, there’s plenty of story to go around.”

He swallowed his misgivings. Depending on what he and Catherine learned, the story Sagittarius II brought back might be different from anything they could have imagined…

But instead, he just grinned at his computer screen. “You bunch of walking egos have anything else, or are we good?”

“That hurts, man. That really hurts.” Nate was grinning back, though, and the rest of the crew looked a little more relaxed.

“Yeah, well, they hired me for my brutal honesty.”

“We’re good,” Commander Duffy said. “Thanks, as always, Cal.”

“No problem. I’ll talk to you all tomorrow.” He signed off and closed the connection, pushing back from his station.

Cal headed for his office, thinking about the interview. He’d watched it, too, of course. The divorce announcement caught him off guard, his stomach twisting in a mix of nerves, worry, and anticipation. It was a combination of feelings he really didn’t need right now, not while he was still trying to figure out what Catherine was doing during her blank spells.

He got to his office and settled behind his desk. The problem was, he couldn’t kid himself that he was objective anymore. But then, he never had been, had he? At first, he was digging into Catherine’s records because he wanted to find some evidence of wrongdoing. Now he was looking because he wanted to confirm that she’d done nothing wrong. Whatever she was doing, he was convinced she didn’t remember it.

A knock at his door interrupted him. “Cal, hey.” Aaron stuck his head in the open doorway. “Just wanted to say good job defusing the interview issue with the crew earlier.”

“That was easy. We should’ve seen it coming.”

Aaron chuckled. “Yeah, everybody’s gonna wanna write a book when they get back. If they wanted the lion’s share of the glory they should’ve been first, right?”

Cal didn’t point out that the other five people who’d been “first” hadn’t come home—but that was part of being first. You took the bigger risk. “Right,” he said instead.

“And good job with the Wells thing. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that the ice has thawed between you two. Finally figured out she was telling the truth, huh?”

“Yessir. I believe her story.” That wasn’t a lie—he didn’t say which story he believed. “I was just being cautious. That’s one reason you hired me, right?”

“You bet. And I’m glad we did.” He tapped the doorframe. “Get out of here, would you? It’s nearly eight. We’ll be busy when the crew gets to ERB Prime soon. Save some juice for then.”

“Yeah, thanks. Just have a few more things I need to do then I’m out.”

He stared at the door Aaron had just exited through. What had Catherine been doing in Aaron’s office that night? Cal had to admire her for not wanting to read top-secret information once she’d come to, but it sure would help if they knew what she’d been after in her altered state.

Maybe… he shouldn’t even try to do that, but he could…

Cal got up and shut his door, although the floor was empty by now. Even Aaron’s office light had gone off, thank God.

No one would ever mistake him for a hacker, but he knew how to access and read server logs. Of course, if the files Catherine accessed were out of Cal’s security clearance, it still might not help him, but it was worth a shot.

Catherine had showed up at his house at two that morning, so all he needed to do was see what files were accessed from Aaron’s computer shortly before then—assuming she’d come right over after being in Aaron’s office. He looked through the logs until he found the right time frame. The files she’d been looking at should be… there.

Cal stared. That couldn’t be right.

He double-checked the date, the time, the workstation.

They were all correct.

Fuck.

Cal didn’t need to open the files to know what they were. He knew exactly what they contained. He’d written most of them. And only half a dozen people at NASA even knew they existed. Half a dozen people, and now maybe Catherine Wells.

Before he could think, he grabbed his cell phone and called Catherine. Shit, how was it ten o’clock already? Voice mail.

“Hey, it’s Cal. Call me when you get this. It’s urgent. I figured a few things out. We have to talk.”

While he waited, waffling on his next step, he pulled up one of the docs she’d accessed that night. He knew the text by heart, but looked at the memo anyway.

Catherine—or more accurately, whatever was controlling Catherine—now knew all about Longbow. Including… wait. He paused to double-check the server logs again… Shit. Yes. Including the codes and locations needed to trigger the first sequence.

Fidgeting, he dialed Catherine’s number again. Voice mail.

His heart raced in his chest as he pictured her, blank-eyed and determined, coming into NASA that very night to set the protocol in motion.

She’s known about it for weeks; there’s nothing that says tonight would be the night.

But the skin on the back of his neck crawled with panic. It was fine. It would be fine, he told himself. He’d just go to her place. Wait, no. She’d moved.

Even if he found her, what would he do, exactly? Tell her what he’d found? Kill her? No, of course not; that was a ridiculous thought. But they could talk it through. Aaron was the only one with the fail-safe codes to disconnect Longbow; they might have to tell him everything.

Then a worse thought occurred to him: What if she’s not there? What if she’s on her way here right now? Or already here?

He grabbed his coat and ran.