Vessel

41

CATHERINE SAT OUTSIDE Paul Lindholm’s office for the second time, although this time she was alone. It was hard to believe it had been two weeks since she was here last. With her release from “quarantine,” she and Cal were both reinstated, but the atmosphere was strained, especially between Cal and Aaron. Cal wouldn’t tell her what had happened there, but whatever it was, it had been big.

He was in the office with Aaron and Paul now, making his case for a third—impromptu—Sagittarius mission. Catherine had come along for moral support. Lindholm barely acknowledged her presence anymore. She had officially become a problem he wished would go away.

That was fine. She was pretty much starting to feel that way about him as well.

Suddenly the office door flew open and Cal came out with a hint of a smile. She stood up, her palms suddenly sweating. “Well?”

Cal’s smile broadened. “Wanna go for a ride?”

“Really?”

“Really. We’re cleared.”

Sagittarius III (Cal insisted on calling it Sagittarius 2.5) would go down in NASA history as the fastest mission ever to go from planning to implementation. With the ship prepped even before the mission got approval, it was only a few months before Catherine and Cal were strapped into the acceleration couches, waiting for the countdown to end.

Saying good-bye hadn’t been any easier the second time around. In some ways, it had been harder. She and Aimee had gone to Chicago together to visit Nora and Julie, and Catherine knew this time it really would be the last time she saw her mother alive. That certainty had made leaving harder. And while she’d spent as much time with Aimee as she possibly could, she still wasn’t sure it was enough.

As if he sensed her thoughts, Cal reached across the space between them and took her hand, even though both of them were wearing heavy gloves and pressure suits. “You know, my mom always used to say the surest test of a new relationship was to take a road trip together. Six years might be pushing it.”

Catherine laughed. Their words were being transmitted to Mission Control, but they’d quickly given up on trying to keep things a secret. They’d both had enough of secrets for a lifetime. “We might do better than most. Nobody can storm out during a fight.”

“I dunno; we’ve got a couple of EVA suits on board.”

“Uh, Three, this is Houston. We recommend against using EVA suits as tools in relationship management.” CAPCOM sounded equal parts amused and horrified. “That’s a major off-spec use.”

“Roger, Houston,” Catherine said, trying to keep a straight face. She glanced over at Cal and could see him grinning through his faceplate.

There was no certainty ahead of them—whether they would reach the other ship in time to stop a disaster, whether they would find a way to repair relations with an alien race, even whether they would make it back home.

But at least they were on their way.