'He's a friend of yours, isn't he?'
'Yes. He graduated from the Leningrad Suvorov military school top of his class and went on to operate fast jets. He logged five hundred hours at a record rate, including front-line operations, earning him the Hero of the Russian Federation award. He enrolled at the Gagarin Cosmonaut Training Centre at the age of thirty-one, and after five years served as Flight Engineer on board Soyuz TMA Nine M.
'Major Romanenko's Flight Engineer is another young Russian, Captain Evgeny Novitskiy. He followed the same path as Romanenko through military school and on to the Gagarin Training Centre, although he has shown himself to have an even better aptitude in testing than his Commander. A promising young cosmonaut indeed, although he still respects Romanenko's experience and authority — a trait very favourable among Alpha-males who spend a lot of time together in a close environment.'
'And the third crew member?'
Aleks knew the words he had to say, but didn't want to say them. He looked at the floor, feeling Bales' eyes burrowing into his head. 'The third crew member,' he said, not looking up, 'is an American, NASA's — your — Major Chris Williams. He was born in Ohio, was top of his class in the United States Naval Academy and has since logged over three thousand hours as an experimental test pilot.' He could feel his face flushing hot with annoyance — or was it embarrassment? It was a strange, emasculating feeling he hadn't felt since childhood.
'Very good, Aleks, you certainly know your background. But can you tell me more about Major Chris Williams? What sort of a person is he?'
Aleks shifted his weight from foot to foot. 'He's a short-tempered man, quick to anger.'
'What do you think about that?'
Aleks' face was red hot. 'What do you mean?'
'Is this really necessary?' Lev asked.
'I asked you a question,' Bales said, ignoring Lev.
'I think it's a bad situation to be in,' Aleks said. 'He should have never gone up.' He looked at Bales, who was still — strangely — smiling.
'Thank you Aleks, that's exactly what I wanted to hear. I'm glad you can be honest with me — that's important if we're going to be working together. Is there anything else I need to know? Anything at all?'
'No.'
'Are you sure?'
Aleks didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything. Nodding to himself, still smiling, Bales stood and held out his hand, an indication for Aleks and Lev to leave. He shook with them both.
'I look forward to working with you,' he said. 'I think we'll make a great team.'
Somehow, Aleks knew that wouldn't be the case.
* * *
'RS0ISS, TsUP, come back.'
Aleks rubbed his eyes as he waited. It seemed like he'd barely left his seat since the vessel had been reported over a week ago. A scratchy sting had formed over his eyeballs, complimented by a dull ache at the small of his back. The scenery around him hadn't changed much either. With not a soul leaving for more than a few hours to catch some rest and have a wash, Mission Control was a constant buzz of conversation. A three-day-old newspaper on his desk read: METEOR STRIKE ENDANGERS LIVES ON ISS. A lie, but one plausible and boring enough for the global media to let the story slip off the cover and into the middle pages. The glut of press that swarmed the building a week ago, attracted by the swollen NASA presence, had dwindled to a handful of chancers.
'TsUP, RS0ISS, go ahead,' came Mikhail's voice.
'Good morning, RS0ISS, how are you today?'
Mikhail laughed, making Aleks grin. It always cheered him up to hear his friend's voice.
'Can't complain, TsUP, can't complain.'
'Are you sure? I'm betting Doctor Kotov would love to give you one of his psychoanalytical grillings.'
The man in question, listening to the conversation on his own headset, looked back at Aleks, frowning. Aleks gave him a cheeky nod and a wink.
'No, I don't think that will be necessary,' Mikhail said. 'Spirits are high up here. It's not every day you get to discover something like this.'
'Okay. But in all seriousness, keep us informed down here. Don't bottle up.'
Aleks glanced again at the doctor, who gave a firm nod of approval.
'Although Doctor Kotov is looking very keen —'
'No doctors, no questions, no thank you,' Mikhail interjected.
Aleks laughed. 'I'm sure he'll keep off your back so long as you keep being a smartass,' he said.
'Amen to that.'
'Indeed. Anyway, RS0ISS, we've got a bit of housekeeping to do. Did you attempt a classification of the vessel as requested?'
'We tried,' Mikhail said, sounding uncertain, 'but we can only get a reading on it optically. Anything electrical breaks down into a nonsensical mess.'
'Copy, we've had the same problem our end.'
'X-Ray, ultraviolet, infrared — it all comes back garbled.'
'What did you achieve optically?'
'Not much. The vessel's appearance makes judging size difficult, but we've estimated it at around ten to twenty metres long, five to ten metres tall, and the same for the depth.'
'Big enough to fit people in.'
'Yes, definitely.'
'Has there been any change to the vessel itself?'
'None. We even analysed the static produced by our digital equipment, but it's as random as any other.'
'So the likelihood is that it's dead?'
Mikhail made a humming sound, as if contemplating how he should say what he wanted to say next. 'We don't think so,' he said. 'From what we've been able to measure, the vessel follows us perfectly, with no deviation from our orbit. On top of that, the chances of an object falling into a synchronous orbit instead of bouncing off the atmosphere or falling in and burning up are impossibly small.'
'You think it's here deliberately?'
'Yes.'
Aleks noted down what Mikhail was saying. The conversations were being recorded of course, but it helped Aleks' mind to visualise the situation from his own notes.
'Has EVA approval come through yet?' Mikhail asked.
'Not yet,' Aleks said, finishing his last note. 'Lev keeps pushing for it, but we're being held back on that one, so no spacewalk yet.'
'How about the R2 GM robonaut? Can we get clearance to send that out?'
'We're waiting on that as well.'
'What's the hold up?'
Aleks sighed.
'The usual. Politics, paperwork, red tape — you know how it is.'
'I do, but I wish I didn't.'
'Tell me about it. Alright, next on the list is the METI standard protocol broadcasts.'
Mikhail snorted. 'Really? You want to send some old coded messages to it?'
'Not my decision, so let's run both Hello from Earth and RuBisCo Stars anyway.'
'Roger. Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence broadcast lined up and ready to go five by five.'
'Copy. Proceed when ready.' Aleks twiddled his pen between his fingers as he waited. Although he was almost certain that the METI broadcasts wouldn't get a response, he couldn't help but wonder what would happen if they did.
'TsUP, METI deployed,' Mikhail confirmed.
Aleks' chest fluttered with nervous excitement that he pushed back down again with reserved reason. 'Roger. Continue with METI broadcasts at one-hour intervals,' he said.
'Copy, one-hour intervals.'
Aleks made a note of the time. 'Stay safe up there,' he said. 'And please, seriously, let us know if there is any change in your situation, any change at all.' He knew Mikhail understood what he meant.
'Don't you worry about us,' Mikhail said.
'Okay. TsUP out.'
'RS0ISS out.'
Aleks took off his headset, and despite the ongoing chatter in the room, he felt a strange sense of isolation. As well as a gurgling unease in his gut about his friend's wellbeing, he didn't know what to make of the knowledge that whatever was up there with them wasn't there by accident. 'And now we wait,' he said to himself.
An h
our later, he finished his shift and handed over so he could go and get some rest. He needed it, but despite his exhaustion, he tossed in his bunk for what seemed like the millionth time since he had clambered in. Although his eyes stung and his body ached, sleep seemed to evade him. The air-conditioned room, one of many provided by the RFSA, was cool, but his body burned with a feverish heat that seemed to tie the sheets around his body in a sweaty, sticky jumble of limbs and cotton.
Frustrated, he kicked the sheets off and clicked the lamp on. Its glow painted the darkness away from the mix of browns, beiges and washed-out purples that made up the temporary accommodation. He sat up and yawned, the heavy weight of fatigue hanging from his eyelids, and let the soles of his feet rest on the scratchy carpet. He shuffled into the adjoining bathroom, yesterday's crumpled heap of clothing still on the floor. Yesterday felt like days ago. He looked at his watch, a cheap digital thing his ex-wife had got him, and swore to himself under his breath.
Shit, he thought, only one o'clock?
He had been in bed longer than he'd realised, but for less time than he'd hoped. He would need to be up, washed, dressed and back smiling at his station in less than five hours, and the very thought made him want to curl up and die. For a moment he longed for his own bed back home, but he remembered it was just as empty and lonely as the one here. The overnight room was pretty convenient come to think about it. He shuffled back to bed, accepting that he would have to lie there and wait for the sound of the alarm.
But that sound didn't come — it didn't have a chance to. Shuddering awake, his eyes searched the darkness, hunting for the dream that roused him. The screaming silence mellowed, and he eased himself back onto his pillow, taking deep breaths of the cool, dry air to ease his skipping heart.
Thump, thump, thump.
There it was again, the noise from his dream. His semi-conscious brain fumbled for an answer, but the wires weren't connecting. Then, a muffled voice called through the door: 'Mr Dezhurov, sir? Are you there?'
The dream was gone for good as conscious and subconscious snapped back to together in an instant. 'I'm coming,' he croaked. He got up, grabbed a dressing gown from the otherwise empty closet, threaded his arms through the sleeves and wrapped it around himself, yawning as he slouched to the door. He looked at his watch. It read: 3:49am. Opening the door a crack, he squinted at the silhouette of a man standing outside. As his eyes adjusted, he saw the man was practically a boy, a young soldier wearing the uniform of the centre's security.
'What?' Aleks said.
'Sorry to disturb you, sir. You're needed in Mission Control.'
The soldier looked awkward during the silence that followed. Aleks considered him for a moment, then nodded. 'Alright,' he said. 'Let me get washed and dressed and I'll be right there.'
'Thank you, sir,' the soldier said, looking relieved.
Aleks sighed, and shut the door.
Lev greeted Aleks as he entered Mission Control through the makeshift security point that had popped up overnight. He had concern on his face, even if he was trying his best to mask it. For the first time in a while, Bales was not at his side.
'I'm so sorry to wake you up at this time in the morning,' he said, handing Aleks a polystyrene cup filled with hot coffee. 'But we have a small situation that we thought would be best for you to be in on.'
They walked around the circumference of the room before slotting in at the appropriate row. A relieved-looking junior communications officer stood up as they approached, the suddenly taut cable almost ripping the headset from his ears. Lev had barely dismissed him before he darted away, and Aleks watched him leave, apprehension stirring in his chest.
'What's his problem?' he asked, still watching the man as he left the room.
'He's out of his depth, I suppose,' Lev said, inviting Aleks to sit down, before doing so himself.
'Where's your NASA friend?' Aleks said, nodding towards the empty third seat at his station. He took a sip of his coffee, allowing the lingering heat to flow to his extremities.
'We, er … haven't alerted him. It's only a minor thing. Nothing worth disturbing him about,' Lev said, looking guilty.
'Not minor enough to let me catch up on my rest though,' Aleks said. 'You know I don't sleep well, you know I've been up doing long shifts —'
'As have we all,' Lev interjected, 'and I'm sorry, but we have some very powerful eyes watching over us, so we need to make every decision perfectly. We can only do that with the best personnel on the job.'
Aleks felt numb, cranky and exhausted. He had probably overreacted. Lev was just doing his job after all. He took another sip of coffee, placed the cup down on his desk and started again.
'So what's the deal with Bales? Why is he here?'
Lev pulled a face, one of frustration. 'NASA pretty much funds this entire operation. With money comes control. They may let us think we're running the show, but if they want something, they get it.'
Aleks snorted with disbelief. 'And we let them?'
'We don't have a choice. If we say no, they could pull the plug. As long as they stay happy, and we preen and smile for their puppet, Bales, we'll be okay.'
There was a visible annoyance forming in the creases of Lev's brow at the mention of Bales, so Aleks decided to drop the topic altogether.
'What's going on here, then?'
'Well, you know that solar flare that was predicted for the next month?'
'Yeah. I saw the NASA STEREO report a few weeks back.'
'Well, it's come early. Only a small one at the moment — M Two class I think — but the reports suggest this is the first of many, and they're going to get larger.'
'Do we still have contact with the ISS?' Aleks asked.
'Not at the moment,' Lev said. 'The radiation storm from the first flare is still passing. We estimate another half-hour before comms are restored. I wanted you here ready for the link up.'
Aleks nodded, turning to look back at the double doors. He could hear raised voices, and as a member of security exited, a fragment of the shouting slipped in through the swinging door.
'Excuse me one moment,' Lev said, heading for the door himself. It had barely swung shut behind him when Aleks heard Lev's deep, authoritative bark adding to the muffled cacophony. The voices died down after a minute, and Lev returned looking furious. Bales followed him, his tanned face expressionless and cold below his colourless crew-cut hair. They marched over, and Aleks shot a puzzled expression at Lev when Bales wasn't looking, but Lev either ignored it or didn't see it. He sat down beside Aleks, but Bales continued to stand, looking around the room. Clearing his throat, he addressed everyone in a near-perfect Russian dialect, albeit one tainted with a slightly robotic accent:
'Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention for a moment, please?'
He already had it.
'My name is John Bales, and I have been sent by NASA to work closely with you all following the recent discovery of the unidentified vessel that we have code-named UV One. It has been decided in a joint negotiation between our two states that should the situation escalate to a point that our astronauts are in a state of immediate danger, our expertise and authority — NASA's expertise and authority — will take command. That time —'
Hushed whispers rippled around the room.
'That time,' Bales repeated, raising his voice a fraction, 'has come, and so I will duly take command of this operation.'
The flutter of whispers became open discontentment, some operators shaking their heads in disbelief.
'It is for the safety of us, our astronauts and for the people of Earth,' Bales said, scanning the room, 'and I expect you all to continue doing your very best. That is all.'
He stood watching as everyone turned back to their stations. Aleks could tell by the look on his face that he was glad — no, worse than that, delighted — to be taking control of the mission.
Chapter 3
'Still nothing,' Aleks said, after failing to reach the ISS yet again.
<
br /> Bales chewed the stylus of his touch pad, thinking. 'Okay,' he said. 'Keep trying, ten-minute intervals.'
Aleks made a note of the time for his next broadcast. Lev, who was sat alongside Bales, was staring into the distance.
'If you'll excuse me,' Bales said, standing up, 'I need to make a few phone calls.'
Without waiting for a response, he strode off, flicking through his touch pad as he walked. Just before he left the room altogether, he turned around and called: 'Please be sure to inform me of any changes to the situation, okay?'
And then he was gone. Aleks, who watched him leave, turned to Lev as soon as the door swung shut.
'Are you going to let him carry on like this?' he said.
Lev, a faint veil of dejectedness hanging over him, shrugged. The expression aged him considerably, and the usual sharpness in his keen eyes seemed to have fizzled out.
'What can I do?' he said. 'It's not my call if the RFSA decides that this is the best course of action. Maybe it is for the best. Maybe the Americans are better trained at this than we are.'
Aleks snorted. 'No-one is trained for this and you know it.'
Lev looked blank for a moment, and before he could speak, a wiry-looking man with a floppy haircut appeared with a ream of printouts.
'I've got some more readings on the radiation storm,' the wiry man said, flicking his drooping side-parting with a twitch of his head, 'and it looks like we should get an opportunity for communication with the ISS in the next few minutes. But,' he continued, letting the ream spill onto the desk so he could point to a line that slashed up and down in quick succession, 'it'll only be for a minute or two at the most. After that, the next window could be hours, days — even weeks away.'
'Thank you Pyotr,' Lev said, acknowledging the man with a half-hearted smile. Pyotr dithered, looking unsure, then gathered up his printouts and returned to his station. Before Lev could even open his mouth, Aleks was already broadcasting, nudging his headset down to a more comfortable position on his head as he spoke.
'RS0ISS, TsUP, please come back.'
He paused and waited for a few seconds before trying again.
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