Gravity. Part 31

"I want my wife home now."

"Every one wants them home! We're trying the best we can, but the situation has changed. The whole station is now contaminated. The filter system's off. The EVA crew never had a chance to complete the gimbal repairs, so they remain in power down. And they're not talking to us."

"What?"

"Emma and Luther have cut off communications. We don't know what's going on up there. That's why they rushed you backa"to help us get through to them." Jack stared through the open doorway, into the Special Vehicle Operations Room. He saw men and women at their consoles, performing their duties as always. It suddenly enraged him that flight controllers could remain so calm and efficient. That the deaths of two more astronauts did not seem to alter their cold professionalism. The cool demeanor of everyone in the room only magnified his own grief, his own terror.

He walked into the control room. Two uniformed Air Force officers stood beside Flight Director Woody Ellis, monitoring the comm loops. They were a disturbing reminder that the room was not under NASA's control. As Jack moved along the back row, toward the surgeon's console, several controllers shot him sympathetic looks. He said nothing, but sank into the chair next to Todd Cutler. He was acutely aware that just behind him, in the viewing gallery, other Air Force officers from U.S. s.p.a.ce Command were watching the room.

"You've heard the latest?" said Todd softly.

Jack nodded. There was no longer any EKG tracing on the monitor, Diana was dead. So was Griggs.

"Half the station's still in power down. And now they've got eggs floating in the air." And blood as well. Jack could picture what it must be like aboard the station. The lights dimmed. The stench of death. splattering the walls, clogging the HEPA filters. An orbiting of horrors.

"We need you to talk to her, Jack. Get her to tell us what's happening up there."

"Why aren't they talking?"

"We don't know. Maybe they're p.i.s.sed at us. They have a right to be. Maybe they're too traumatized."

"No, they must have a reason." Jack looked at the front screen, showing the station's...o...b..tal path above the earth. What are you thinking, Emma?

He slipped on the headset and said, "Capcom, this is Jack McCallum. I'm ready."

"Roger, Surgeon. Stand by, and we'll try them again." They waited. ISS did not respond.

At the third row of consoles, two of the controllers suddenly glanced back over their shoulders, at Flight Director Ellis. Jack heard nothing over the comm loop, but he saw the Odin controller, the controller in charge of onboard data networks, rise from his chair and lean forward to whisper across his console to the secondrow controllers.

Now the OPS controller, in the third row, took off his headset, stood up, and stretched. He started up the side aisle, walking casually, as though headed for a bathroom break. As he pa.s.sed by surgeon's console, he dropped a piece of paper in Todd Cutler's and continued out of the room.

Todd unfolded the note and shot Jack a stunned look. "The station's reconfigured their computers to ASCR mode," he whispered.

"The crew's already started CRV sep sequence." Jack stared back in disbelief. ASCR, or a.s.sured safe crew return, was the computer config meant to support crew evacuation. He glanced quickly around the room.

None of the controllers was saying a word about this over the loop. All Jack saw were rows of squared shoulders, everyone's gaze focused tightly on their consoles. He glanced sideways at Woody Ellis. Ellis stood motionless. The body language said it all. He knows what's going on. And he's not saying a thing, either.

Jack broke out in a sweat. This was why the crew wasn't talking.

They had made their own decision, and they were forging ahead with it.

The Air Force would not be in the dark for long.

Through their s.p.a.ce Surveillance Network of radar and optical sensors, they could monitor objects as small as a baseball in low earth orbit. As soon as the CRV separated, as soon as it became independent orbital object, it would come to the attention of Command's control center in Cheyenne Mountain Air Station. The million-dollar question was, How would they respond?

I hope to G.o.d you know what you're doing, Emma.

After CRV sep, it would take twenty-five minutes for the evac vehicle to bring up guidance and landing targets, another fifteen minutes to set up the deorbit burn. Another hour to land. U.S. s.p.a.ce Command would have them identified and tracked long before the CRV could touch down.

In the second row, the OSO flight controller raised his hand in a casual thumbs-up. With that gesture, he'd silently announced news, The CRV had separated. For better or worse, the crew was on its way home.

Now the game begins.

The tension in the room coiled tighter. Jack hazarded a glance at the two Air Force officers, but the men seemed oblivious to the situation, one of them kept looking at the clock, as though to be elsewhere.

The minutes ticked past, the room strangely quiet. Jack leaned forward, his heart hammering, sweat soaking his s.h.i.+rt. By now CRV would be drifting outside the station's envelope. Their target would be identified, their guidance system locked onto GPS satellites.

Come on, come on, thought Jack. Go to deorbit now!

The sound of a ringing telephone cut the silence. Jack glanced sideways and saw one of the Air Force monitors answer it. Suddenly he went rigid and turned to Woody Ellis.

"What the h.e.l.l is going on here?" Ellis said nothing.

The officer quickly typed on Ellis's console keyboard and stared at the screen in disbelief. He grabbed the phone. "Yes, sir. I'm, that's a confirmation. The CRV has separated. No, sir, I don't know how ita"Yes, sir, we have been monitoring the loop, buta"" The oficer was red-faced and sweating as he listened to the tirade from the receiver.

When he hung up, he was shaking with rage.

"Turn it around!" he ordered.

Woody Ellis answered with barely disguised contempt. "It isn't a Soyuz capsule. You can't command it to drive around like a G.o.dd.a.m.n automobile."

"Then stop it from landing!"

"We can't. It's a one-way trip home." Three more Air Force officers walked swiftly into the room.

Jack recognized General Gregorian of the U.S. s.p.a.ce Commanda"the man now in authority over NASA operations.

"What's the status?" Gregorian snapped.

"The CRV is undocked but still in orbit," the red-faced officer replied.

"How soon before they reach atmosphere?"

"Uha"I don't have that information, sir." Gregorian turned to the flight director. "How soon, Mr. Ellis?

"It depends. There are a number of options."

"Don't give me a f.u.c.king engineering lecture. I want an answer. I want a number."

"Okay." Ellis straightened and looked him hard in the eye. "Anywhere from one to eight hours. It's up to them. They can stay in orbit for four revolutions max. Or they can deorbit now and be on the ground in an hour."

Gregorian picked up the phone. "Mr. President, I'm afraid there's not much time to decide. They could deorbit any minute now. Yes, sir, I know it's a hard choice. But my recommendation remains the same as Mr. Profitt's."

What recommendation? thought Jack with a surge of panic.

An Air Force officer called out from one of the flight consoles, "They've started their deorbit burn!"

"We're running out of time, sir," said Gregorian. "We need your answer now." There was a long pause. Then he nodded, with relief.

"You've made the right decision. Thank you." He hung up and turned to the Air Force officers. "It's a go."

"What's a go?" said Ellis. "What are you people planning to do?

His questions were ignored. The Air Force officer picked up the phone and calmly issued the order, "Stand by for EKV launch." What the h.e.l.l is an EKV? thought Jack. He looked at Todd and saw by his blank expression that he didn't know what was being launched, either.

It was Todd, the trajectory controller, who walked over to their console and quietly answered the question. "Exoatmospheric kill vehicle," he whispered. "They're going to intercept."

"Target must be neutralized before it descends to atmosphere," said Gregorian.

Jack shot to his feet in panic. "No!" Almost simultaneously, other controllers rose from their chairs in protest. Their shouts almost drowned out Capcom, who had to yell at the top of his voice to be heard.

"I have ISS on comm! ISS is on comm!" ISS? Then someone is still aboard the station. Someone has been left behind.

Jack cupped his hand over his earpiece and listened to the downlinked voice.

It was Emma. "Houston, this is Watson on ISS. Mission Specialist Ames is not infected. I repeat, he is not infected. He is only crew member returning aboard CRV. I urgently request you allow the vehicle's safe landing."

"Roger that, ISS," said Capcom.

"You see? There's no reason to shoot it down," Ellis said to Gregorian.

"Stop your EKV launch!"

"How do we know Watson's telling the truth?" countered Gregorian.

"She must be telling the truth. Why else would she stay behind? She's just stranded herself up there. The CRV was the lifeboat she had!" The impact of those words made Jack go numb. The heated conversation between Ellis and Gregorian suddenly seemed to fade out.

Jack was no longer focusing on the fate of the CRV. He could think only of Emma, alone now, and trapped on the station, with no way to evacuate.

She knows she is infected. She has stayed behind to die.

"CRV has completed deorbit burn. It's descending. Trajectory is on the front screen." Tracing across the world map at the front of the room was a small blip representing the CRV and its lone human pa.s.senger.

They heard him now, on comm.

"This is Mission Specialist Luther Ames. I am approaching entry alt.i.tude, all systems nominal." The Air Force officer looked at Gregorian. "We're still standing by for EKV launch."

"You don't have to do this," said Woody Ellis. "He's not sick. We can bring him home!"

"The craft itself is probably contaminated," said Gregorian.

"You don't know that!"

"I can't take that chance. I can't risk the lives of people on earth."

"G.o.ddd.a.m.nit, this is murder."

"He disobeyed orders. He knew what our response would be." Gregorian nodded to the Air Force officer.

"EKVS have been launched, sir." Instantly the room hushed. Woody Ellis, pale and shaken, stared at the front screen, at the multiple trajectory tracings, toward an intersecting point.

The minutes went by in dead silence. At the front of the room, one of the women controllers began to cry softly.

"Houston, I'm approaching entry interface." It was a shock to hear Luther's cheery voice suddenly crackle on the comm. "I'd greatly appreciate it if you'd have someone meet me on the ground, *cause I'm gonna need help getting out of this EMU." No one responded. No one had the heart to.

"Houston?" said Luther, after a moment of silence. "Hey, you guys still there?" At last Capcom managed to reply, in an uneven voice, "Uh, roger, CRV . We'll have the beer keg waiting for you, Luther of' buddy. Dancing girls. The whole works ."

"Geez, you guys have loosened up since we last spoke. Okay, looks like I'm bout ready for LOS. You keep that beer cold, and Ia"" There was a loud burst of static. Then the transmission went dead.

The blip on the front screen exploded into a shocking sunburst of fragments, scattering into delicate pixels of dust.

Woody Ellis crumpled into his chair and dropped his head in his hands.

"Securing air-to-ground loop," said Capcom. "Stand by, ISS."

"Talk to me, Jack . Please talk to me, Emma pleaded silently as she floated in the hab's semidarkness. With the circulation fans shut down, the module was so quiet she could hear the whoosh of her own pulse, the movement of air rus.h.i.+ng in and out of her lungs.

She was startled when Capcom's voice suddenly said, "Air-to-ground secure. You may proceed to PFC."

"Jack?" she said.

"I'm here. I'm right here, sweetheart."

"He was clean! I told them he was cleana""

"We tried to stop it! The order came straight from the White House. They didn't want to take any chances."

"It's my fault." Her exhaustion suddenly gave way to tears. She was alone and scared. And haunted by her catastrophically wrong decision. "I thought they'd let him come back. I thought it was best chance of staying alive."

"Why did you stay behind, Emma?"

"I had to." She took a deep breath and said, "I'm infected."

"You were exposed. That doesn't mean you're infected."

"I just ran my own blood tests, Jack. My amylase level is rising."

He said nothing.

"I'm now eight hours postexposure. I should have another twenty-four to forty-eight hours before I a can no longer function." Her voice had steadied. She sounded strangely calm now, as though she were talking about a patient's impending death. Not her own. "That's enough time to get a few things in order. Jettison bodies. Change out some of the filters, and get the fans working again. It should make cleanup easier for the next crew. If there is a next crewa" Jack still hadn't spoken.

"As for my own remainsa" Her voice had steadied to numb dispa.s.sion, all emotions suppressed. "When the time comes, I think the best thing I can do, for the good of the station, is to go EVA. Where I can't contaminate anything after I die. After my bodya"

She paused. "The Orlan is easy enough to get into without a.s.sistance. I have Valium and narcotics on hand. Enough to put me under. So I'll be asleep when my air runs out. You know, Jack, it's not such a bad way to go, when you think about it. Floating outside. Looking at the earth, the stars. And just drifting off to sleep." She heard him then. He was crying.

"Jack," she said softly. "I love you. I don't know why things apart between us. I know some of it had to be my fault."

He drew in a shuddering breath. "Emma, don't."