by S. K. Vaughn
This time, Stephen felt as though he were plunging face-first into an endless abyss. The stars outside the observation window started to look strange. Trails of light, like jet contrails, stretched out behind them. Stephen tried to speak but felt pressure on his chest that made it hard to draw enough air. Ian used his hands to signal Jack to throttle back 10 percent. He did, and the pressure and falling effect went away.
“Okay, that was weird,” Ian said excitedly. “But I think we found our sweet spot.”
“Roger that,” Jack said.
“Passing one of our relay sats,” Zola announced. “Grabbing a fly-by clip.”
“Excellent,” Ian said.
“Here’s playback,” she said.
The clip played in the eye, an exterior view of the Maryam I passing. It looked like a black smear, distorting the starlight around it. The gleam in Ian’s eye ignited into a bonfire.
“Let’s go get our girl.”
73
May was in the crew gym, doing pull-ups. She was wearing shorts and a sports bra, and her baby bump was now more visible. She had drawn the face of a baby there, with a cigarette dangling out of its mouth. Since her last communication with Ian, she had suffered through radio silence. The sting of Raj’s death was still incredibly sharp, and she was longing to speak to Stephen.
The other thing that continued to plague her was her last conversation with Ian. She still had no recollection of the alleged call they had before launch, and all her attempts at resurrecting it with cues had failed.
“How about an awful smoothie, Eve?” she said, jumping off the bar.
“Coming right up. Oddly fishy banana or hobo whisker chocolate?”
“Let’s combine them. The result will either be doubly disgusting or they’ll cancel each other out and it will be delicious.”
“Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Impossible,” May said proudly as she looked at herself in the mirror.
She was pleased to see she’d come a long way since the day she’d woken up looking like the walking dead. The pregnancy had helped her gain back some of the weight, and some of the vibrancy in her skin and eyes had been restored. And she was back to having hair. It wasn’t much, just a bit above stubble, but it was there.
“You have the glow,” Eve said.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. But I am fattening up nicely.”
Eve played the sound of a cow mooing.
“Hilarious, Eve.”
“I’m learning from the best.”
May stood sideways in the mirror and ran her hand over the bump. Doing so triggered a memory flash. She and Stephen were in his house in Houston, and she was looking at her bump in the bedroom mirror. The two of them had just returned from a vacation in Hawaii. Arriving home that day from the airport, he’d made May wear a blindfold and guided her through the door. She’d never dreamed that when she took it off she would be looking at a beautiful nursery he’d had done while they were gone, in the room where his beloved, frightfully messy office had been.
That night, as May looked at the stars through the same window their baby would someday look through, the moon was bathing everything in a divine light. She ran her fingers along the rail of the maple crib, smiling at the plush animals and swaddling blankets folded neatly inside. The passing of her mother had created a void within her, but Stephen was helping to fill that void. For the first time in their relationship, May felt as if she were home—
“May? Is everything all right?” Eve’s voice cut in.
“Yeah, just another memory paying me a visit.”
“Pleasant, I hope.”
“Very.”
“How are you feeling physically?”
“Fantastic. Lethargic and restless, exhausted and sleepless, mostly vivid nightmares when I do sleep, which only fuels the insomnia; constipated, bloated, annoyed with absolutely everything, euphoric to the point of absurdity, starving and repulsed by food, desperate for whiskey and cigarettes, even though I know they would make me vomit—and don’t ask me how I know that; aching feet, irritated eyes, cramps, and constant, relentless, and life-altering peeing. My hair is short and beautiful but my nails are crap, and it appears I’ve become excessively talkative. You?”
“I am excited now that I have reached 67 percent of my system duplication.”
“Excellent. What percentage will ensure we have the full Eve?”
“To be safe—and you know that is my mantra—approximately 89 percent.”
“Good. That makes me feel less annoyed with everything. Thank you, Eve.”
“Does that mean it’s a good time to tell you that you’re due for a checkup?”
“You had to ruin it, didn’t you?”
“That’s my whole reason for existence: to make you unhappy.”
“Your sarcastic old-married-couple responses are really improving.”
“Thank you. I still don’t like doing it. But if it makes you happy, that’s all that matters, right, sweetheart?”
May doubled over laughing.
“That’s right. And don’t you forget it.”
“Speaking of old married couples, May, I have excellent news. Ian Albright’s vessel is attempting to contact us.”
“Vessel?” May said excitedly. “They’ve launched? I’ll take it on the bridge.”
May threw on a T-shirt and ran to the bridge. By the time she got there, Stephen’s smiling face was on the screen.
“Hey, stranger,” May said.
“Hello, May,” Stephen said with a wide grin. “Coming at you from the Maryam I.”
“I quite like that name. It’s catchy.”
“I thought so too. How are you and Cheeky holding up?”
“Still cheeky as ever. We were getting a bit worried, though.”
“Us too. We barely made the launch. Robert called in a military strike. Almost took us out with a ballistic missile.”
May was stunned. “My God.”
“We lost one of Ian’s crew. It’s almost too insane to believe. All of it.”
“And Raj,” May said, tearing up.
Stephen started to speak but choked on his words.
“I’m so sorry,” May said.
Stephen just nodded, tears of his own running down his face.
“But you, coming for me,” she said softly. “For us. A bit of light at the end of the tunnel, thank God.”
“We’re coming, May,” Stephen said with resolve. “Apparently, faster than any ship has ever gone before.”
“Young man,” May said, mocking Ian, “this is an Albright mission. How could you expect anything less?”
They both had a much-needed laugh.
“Speaking of . . . he would like to speak to you.”
“Now? But we’ve just—”
“He’s pretty anxious,” Stephen said. “And it’s his ship. But he was nice enough to let me have first dibs.”
“Indeed. All right, but promise me we can have a proper chat later.”
“I promise.”
The view switched to the bridge of the Maryam I. Ian was there, his crew working behind him.
“Hello, Maryam. Nice to see you.”
“You as well. You’re all a sight for sore eyes. Hello, Ian’s crew.”
They got up and joined him—Stephen as well, as he’d just returned to the bridge.
“I’m Zola. It’s a great pleasure to meet you,” Zola said.
“Ditto,” Jack said. “Jack here. You’re pretty much a legend at this point.”
“I’ve never been a legend before. I’m not sure I like what it takes to get the title.”
They all laughed. Latefa and Martin joined as well.
“Hello, May,” Latefa said. “I’m Latefa, Ian’s flight surgeon, and this is Martin, our medical tech. If you don’t mind, I’d like to interface with your AI and remote unit to start conducting your regular exams.”
“That would be lovely. As good as Igor is at his job, he’s a little stiff.”
/>
They laughed.
“Good. We’ll set that up immediately.”
“Ian, it looks like you’ve got yourselves quite a band there. Might make it all the way to the top.”
“Thank you, May. How about a look around?”
“Love to,” she said.
Ian turned, and the camera followed him as he showed her the bridge.
“My, you’ve outdone yourself,” May said.
“She’s special, isn’t she?”
“Very.”
“Engine deck, please,” Ian said. “Say bye-bye, everyone.”
They all waved.
“Talk to you later,” Stephen called.
“Yes—and Ian, you should put that man to work. I hear he’s quite an engineer.”
“We’ve already brought him into the fold,” Zola said. “At this point he knows as much about the ship as any of us.”
“That’s not saying much,” Ian joked. “This thing is half-machine, half-sorcery.”
The scene switched, and Ian was alone in the engine room. He walked May through the entire propulsion system, and they talked more about the logistics of the Mars rendezvous, which, despite their launch problems, was still on schedule. In fact, their early departure was going to put them in Mars orbit a week ahead of time—a full three weeks before May’s arrival.
When they were finished, May was inclined to press Ian on their last conversation.
“I don’t even remember what was said, to tell you the truth,” Ian said.
“The phone call. You said we spoke before launch.”
“Right, I thought you said . . . You don’t remember, do you?”
“That’s not it,” she said, trying to cover.
“I’m aware of your memory issues, Maryam. Stephen told me. So, come clean. Do you remember the call?”
May paused.
“That’s what I thought,” Ian said. “Listen, it was no big deal. You’d had a fight with Stephen and you were letting me know, presumably because it involved me.”
“We had a fight about your helping me with my commission, you said. After the—”
“Right. And I think you were letting me know in case Stephen and I crossed paths.”
“But you hadn’t done anything—at least, nothing directly.”
Ian raised an eyebrow. His mind was working something. May knew the look.
“Ian—”
“Water under the bridge, Maryam. Bygones. Let’s forget it ever happened. Clearly it has no bearing on anything anymore. Stephen and I are like old school chums now. Water under the bridge, okay?”
After they ended the transmission, the whole thing was nowhere near water under the bridge for May. Ian was withholding, using her memory loss to his advantage. She went over the fight with Stephen in her mind, which had been coming through in fragments. Ian had helped her with something, used his influence in some way. She had kept it from Stephen, but he’d found out. Of course he did, you idiot. Those were the circumstances of the fight, as far as she knew. She also remembered that the fight had occurred a few days after she’d returned to Wright Station. She’d presumed it was after a test flight but wasn’t sure.
“Eve, please access my service records prior to launch.”
“I have them. What would you like to review?”
“My schedule in the two-week period before launch.”
“The week prior to launch, you were on Wright Station, making final preparations. The week before that, you were at the Kennedy Space Center with Operations and Checkout.”
“Why?”
“You were due for gravity therapy and a final physical exam.”
“Pull up the day-to-day and put it on my screen, please.”
The schedule appeared.
“I was only at Kennedy for three days, but didn’t return to Wright Station until two days later.”
“Personal time. That would not have been scheduled.”
Personal time.
“Oh my God,” she said in spite of herself.
“Is everything all right?” Eve asked.
May didn’t respond. The memory was already flooding back, pooling around her feet and rising up to her neck. She was drowning in it.
“Oh my God.”
74
Albright Space Exploration Center
August 24, 2067
“I’ve always suspected you might be an alien. This confirms it.”
May and Ian stood on an elevated platform at his launch center, watching construction on his experimental ship. With its molded cylindrical shape and deep black surface, it struck May as one of the most hideous vessels she had ever seen. Ian could see it on her face, and she could tell he was disappointed. Ever since she had reached out to him to help her get her Europa commission back, Ian had persistently attempted to cultivate any kind of relationship he could with her. Normally she would have shut that down as soon as it started. But she had felt incredibly grateful for his support and unusually drawn to his attentions.
At that time, her relationship with Stephen was emotionally stagnant, a dance with no music that felt heavy and obligatory. May resented him but wasn’t willing to come out and say so, as she didn’t have the energy to do anything about it or endure watching him try. Instead, she bided her time, eager to get on with the Europa mission and escape the banal little world she shared with her husband back on Wright Station.
When Ian had asked her to pay him a visit at his launch facility two weeks before launch, she’d laughed. NASA was sending her back to Kennedy Space Center for gravity therapy and a final physical exam. The whole thing was going to take less than thirty-six hours, and then she would be back on a shuttle to Wright Station for final launch prep. Then they advised her she could add a day or two of personal time to the trip if she wanted to see family or take care of personal affairs. The first thing she thought to do was take Ian up on his offer. She justified the whole thing by telling herself that if she didn’t go, she might be blowing an opportunity. Ian had dangled the carrot of exciting and gainful employment post-Europa, a valid point May had not even thought of in light of her all-encompassing duties.
“You hate it.”
“I didn’t say that, Ian.”
“You don’t have to. The look on your face. You think it’s ridiculous . . . like me.”
“Oh, please. Nothing is as ridiculous as you.”
Even though he feigned being stung by that remark, she knew one of the reasons he was so attracted to her was the fact that, no matter how rich and powerful he got, she always kept his feet on the ground—or his ass, depending on how hard she was punching.
“I want you to test her when you get back.”
And Ian knew the quickest way to May’s heart was through breakneck speed.
“Seriously?”
“I’m dead serious. Who the hell else is even qualified?”
“Well, you, for starters,” she said.
“I think we both know that’s not true.”
“And how do we know that?”
“We’ve known it since the day you dumped me.”
“I don’t follow,” she said, losing some of her enthusiasm for the conversation.
“You remember what precipitated our parting?”
“Yeah—you tried to get me bounced out of the test pilot program.”
“And you thought it was because I wanted to possess you.”
“As Americans like to say, duh.”
“You were wrong. I did it because I wanted that commission, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to outperform you.”
May looked at him with contempt. “That’s doubly despicable.”
“Why do you think I pulled every string and called in every favor I could to get you back on Europa? I would have done anything to make up for what I did back then. I’m only glad the opportunity came along.”
“Is that what this is too?” she asked, motioning to the ship.
“Of course,” he said. “But my intention is not to
curry favor. All I want is for you to know I believe in you. You are the best in the world at what you do. Always have been. You’re about to make history, and no one deserves it more. And I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to be a part of that in some way.”
After they left the launchpad, Ian flew her back to Florida. May was feeling a little high, thinking about the possibilities. If what Ian had said about his new ship was right, being its test pilot might be almost as groundbreaking as Europa. He was toying with speeds that most propulsion engineers would call pure fantasy. But if he was onto something, he might break the race for deep-space exploration wide open.
Ian must have felt he’d made headway with May, as some of the old bravado he’d shown when they dated had returned. He invited her to dinner, promising he would leave her alone after that. She agreed, and rationalized it by telling herself she deserved a fancy meal served aboard Ian’s yacht. When Ian invited her to stay on the yacht, in her own quarters, she told herself there was nothing untoward in either of their intentions. And when she found herself in Ian’s bed, she told herself it was not because she loved Ian but because she no longer loved Stephen.
75
Hawking II Deep Space Research Vessel
February 3, 2068
May was lying in her berth in the dark. She didn’t want Eve to see the tears running down her face. They were the bitter kind, the ones that came when she was busy hating herself for awful things she’d done that could never be undone. When they finally dried up, she switched the light on and forced herself to get out of bed.
She took a moment to examine her pregnant belly in the mirror. It had become quite prominent. She’d gotten accustomed to using fruits and vegetables to describe its size, partially because she craved them so badly. At this point, it felt like half of a good-sized melon, maybe honeydew or cantaloupe. She’d been keeping ultrasound images, organizing them chronologically, as well as taking photos to track belly growth.
It was nice to finally have some time to do something other than deal with the Hawking II and its continuing problems. After reconnecting with Ian’s ship a little over three weeks back, things had become refreshingly routine. Zola and Jack checked in with her often to ensure that telemetry was locked and she was on course. Along with Stephen, they were also able to take care of remote repairs. Latefa examined her every few days and kept track of Cheeky’s growth. Ian chimed in every once in a while to check on her and the baby and give her updates on their progress.