Oxygen Series Box Set: A Science Fiction Suspense Box Set

by John Olson

  “The current class. You mean I won’t have to wait until the next one?” Valkerie felt her face starting to glow. “What can I say? Thank you!” She followed Perez from the elevator out into a dimly lit parking garage. “But aren’t you the director? Why would you have to push?”

  “The new director. NASA is a huge bureaucracy, and bureaucracies are very resistant to change.” Perez put Valkerie’s bag in the trunk of a white Ford with government plates and opened the passenger door for her.

  She could feel the old excitement coming back—the same excitement she felt before going off to grad school. But this time she was going to be part of a team. She could settle down and make friends—friends who wouldn’t graduate and leave every year.

  Perez slid behind the wheel and started the car.

  “Are you allowed to tell me anything about the tests?”

  “Pretty standard physical and psych tests. We mainly want to make sure that you are a healthy, stable, sociable individual. With Mars looming large on the horizon, we can’t afford to have our astronauts going postal on us.”

  “Mars? Is there really a chance I could go to Mars one day?”

  “Anything’s possible. Does that worry you?”

  “No—just the opposite.”

  “Good. The life question is one of the main driving forces behind the Ares program. It has all kinds of scientific and philosophical implications. Microbial ecologists will always be a crucial part of our Mars teams.”

  Valkerie nodded weakly, feeling overwhelmed. Perez drove down an isolated freeway, surrounded by stunted hardwoods and scrubby pines. Not nearly as bad as she had imagined. At least Houston had trees. Perez rambled on about NASA and the unmanned missions to Mars. Valkerie interjected a question here and there, but it was all she could do to pay attention. If she could go to Mars ... The thought was staggering.

  The trees gradually gave way to a vast wasteland of concrete, metal, and dust. Tangled oil refineries and filthy smokestacks stretched to the horizon as far as the eye could see. Flaming chimneys painted black streaks across a sooty sky. Perez droned on about government bureaucracy and budget cuts, but all she could think about was Mars. What could she accomplish if she were free from the money and time pressures of academia? What would it mean if she discovered a totally new life form on Mars? What would her father think?

  By the time they left the freeway, she had already won two Nobel Prizes and was working on a third. They drove slowly through a small town dominated by parking lots and strip malls. It was a little seedy but better than the refineries. The air looked almost breathable.

  “We’re putting you up at the Holiday Inn.” Perez pointed across the car at a large building on the right. “But if you don’t mind, I’d like to get you started right away on some of the tests. We’re under a huge time crunch.”

  He turned at the next intersection. A white concrete sign read “National Aeronautics & Space Administration.” Valkerie watched as an outdoor exhibit of enormous rockets loomed larger. The car slowed and Perez emitted a throaty sigh of disgust. “Freaks.”

  Valkerie followed his gaze from the security gate to a ring of protesters, circling beneath a cluster of pines. Clumsy handwritten signs drooped across their shoulders. “Say No to Mars.” “Evolution Is Dead and Mars Won’t Help.”

  Oh no! Please. Not protesting NASA. Of all the brain-dead, humiliating ...

  Perez rolled his eyes. “Welcome to the Bible Belt, Valkerie. Home of fundies, freaks, and fruitcakes.”

  Great. Valkerie forced a smile. She hadn’t been here three seconds and she was already guilty by association.

  * * *

  Wednesday, August 22, Year One, 11:00 A.M.

  Bob

  Bob’s personal purgatory this week was a treadmill in the Environment Simulation Lab. For two hours a day, he had to walk on the thing, the lower half of his body encased in a near-vacuum gizmo. The flight docs’ idea.

  Bob thought it was bogus, but no astronaut ever won an argument with Flight Med. Flight Med. He cringed at the name. What had he said wrong in that interview with the flight surgeons last week? He’d asked Nate about it, but Nate just skittered around the question like a puppy on ice. What had they found?

  It couldn’t be the safety thing. He’d promised to follow Josh’s orders. But maybe they thought he wasn’t careful enough? No way. Not with his record. They had to know he was fibbing. Maybe they didn’t care what he said at all. Maybe they’d just been watching his body language. Maybe they’d finally caught on to him.

  Astronauts were supposed to be macho, high-flying daredevils. Stunt pilots. Skirt chasers. Afraid of nothing.

  Bob wasn’t any of that stuff. He hadn’t even planned to be an astronaut. Six years ago, when he’d been doing robotics for NASA, one of the supervisors put Bob’s name on an application for the Ares program and arm-twisted him into signing it. And somehow, somehow he’d wound up on the crew. Because he was good at fixing things.

  Nobody knew how scared he was. He wasn’t a pilot. Got vertigo on anything higher than a kitchen counter. Didn’t want to be a hero.

  But his team needed him. He was the best man for the job and all the psychobabble in the world couldn’t change that fact. Okay… maybe he sometimes went overboard on the safety thing, but he could change. He’d already proved that. He hadn’t wanted to go to Mars at first, but he wanted to go now. It was a new world, waiting to be discovered. They’d learn all kinds of stuff: whether Mars ever had life on it, how other planets could be colonized, how planets … worked. Okay, maybe he wasn’t so interested in that stuff, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t important. And somebody had to ride shotgun to keep the ship running. To make sure the crew got home alive.

  And if that somebody was a fraidy-cat flight mechanic named Bob, well ... he’d just have to swallow his fears and go. It was something he had to do, like Sam going to Mordor. The crew needed him. If Flight Med meant to pry him off the mission, they’d have to use a crowbar.

  Bob wiped his face with a towel and took another swig of the oversweet sports drink NASA forced him to drink.

  “Wow, that was fun!”

  Bob turned to look.

  A woman at the far end of the lab staggered along beside Steven Perez. Dark blond curls. A face right off a soap commercial.

  “Sarah?” Bob stumbled forward, catching the treadmill controls hard in his chest before he could pull himself back up. Sarah McLean?

  The woman stepped out from behind the gyros.

  Bob stumbled again. No, it definitely wasn’t Sarah. If it was, she had to be Sarah 2.0. More like 4.0. Talk about some major upgrades ...

  “You did great, Valkerie.” Perez led her by the arm.

  Valkerie? What kind of name was that? She was probably a reporter from the network. Perez was always bringing in media people, letting them try out the equipment, staging impromptu interviews. It was nuts, trying to train with somebody sticking a camera in your face, but after a while you got used to working in a fishbowl. They could look all they wanted—as long as they didn’t expect him to talk.

  Perez’s cell phone chirped. He yanked it out. “Steven Perez here.” A funny look spread across his face. “White House calling? I’ll need to take this on a secure line.” He covered the phone. “Valkerie, would you excuse me? I’ve been trying all week to get the president, and she’s finally got a few minutes to talk. Look around, and I’ll come get you as soon as I can.”

  Bob smiled with grim satisfaction. Perez was mucking up NASA but good. About time somebody started putting his feet to the fire.

  Perez trotted off, leaving the reporter without a supervising adult.

  Bob suppressed a grin as the reporter immediately walked over to inspect the waste-recycling bioreactor. The last reporter to escape her leash had managed to contaminate an air-recycling rig that had been in continuous operation for over a year. Heads were still rolling after that one. If looks were any indicator, this one might be capable of taking out an enti
re building.

  The reporter wandered away from the bioreactor and turned to survey the rest of the lab. When she got to Bob, she stopped and stared.

  Her eyes lit up with recognition.

  No! A chill ran through Bob’s gut. Not another interview. Not with this reporter. She was way too … female. He’d be babbling like a moron inside twenty seconds.

  The woman stepped around the bioreactor and started walking toward him.

  Bob lowered his eyes and tore at the straps tying him into the machine, but the stupid shroud wouldn’t let go.

  Footsteps tap-tapped across the floor.

  He leaned over and started punching random buttons on the treadmill controls. Maybe if he looked really busy, she’d leave him—

  “Hi!” Her voice was startlingly close. “Aren’t you Bob Kaganovski?”

  Warmth prickled at his cheeks, lighting up his face like a signal flare. “If you’re looking for Josh Bennett, he’s right next door.” Bob glanced up.

  Her smile hit him in the chest like a baseball bat.

  He was trapped.

  * * *

  Wednesday, August 22, Year One, 11:10 A.M.

  Valkerie

  Valkerie couldn’t believe it. She was talking to Bob Kaganovski. The Bob Kaganovski. What had gotten into her? She’d trotted up to him like he was a free sample at Costco. What could she possibly have to say to him?

  He stood looking down at her with one of the shyest, most heartrendingly endearing grins she’d ever seen. His cheeks were every bit as rosy as in the magazines, and his eyes …

  Oh. My. Gosh.

  She felt like one of those bubble-headed fan girls.

  “Are you looking for Josh?” His voice snapped her back to reality. “He’s just down the hall. Second door on the right.”

  “I’m sorry.” Valkerie took a quick breath and tried to collect herself. “Josh who?”

  Bob’s eyes went wide and then he started laughing.

  At least somebody found her amusing. “Oh, Josh Bennett! Of course.” Valkerie gave a quick glance back to the spot Perez had left her. “No, I wasn’t looking for him. I just saw you and I was wondering what you were doing in this … what is this thing?”

  “This?” Bob made a sound like a strangled laugh. “It’s a … treadmill?”

  “Of course it is.” She could feel a slow blush rising to her cheeks. “And I assume that shroud over your hips is a low-pressure unit?”

  “Um, yeah.” Bob’s eyes narrowed. He seemed to be studying her—like he was an entomologist and she was a new species of beetle he’d just discovered.

  Whatever … Valkerie shrugged her embarrassment aside and plunged on. She’d already made a fool of herself. What did she have to lose? “Does it work? Do you really get a redistribution of body fluids?”

  He shrugged. “No idea. Far as I can tell, it’s flight-doc mumbo-jumbo. They make me do it because I’m too tall.”

  “You’re only five inches taller than Josh Bennett. That’s an eight percent effect. What’s the big deal?”

  “It’s supposed to be nonlinear. And I’m twice as clumsy as Josh, which is a hundred percent effect.” He paused and pinned her to the floor with another piercing look. “You’re not a reporter, are you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  Bob pointed in the direction she’d come. “I saw you with Perez and figured you were a reporter. But you’re not dumb enough.”

  She laughed. “Thank you ... I think.”

  He grinned and a weight seemed to lift from her chest.

  “Sorry,” he said. “That came out wrong. Blame it on oxygen deprivation.”

  “I know what you meant ...”

  Bob powered down the treadmill and plodded to a stop. A hush fell over the room as the vacuum pumps switched off with a hissing sigh. “So … what was your name again? Valerie?”

  “Valkerie.” She stepped forward and offered her hand. “Valkerie Jansen.”

  His hand completely engulfed hers, making her feel like a little girl again. He was grinning now. Not quite meeting her eyes. Like he was just as shy as she was. It felt comfortable. Nice.

  Valkerie slowly withdrew her hand and watched as Bob went to work on the laces binding him to the treadmill. “I’m sorry to interrupt your training, but when I saw you I had to tell you how impressed I was with your Science paper on 4-D machine vision.”

  “My Science paper?” Bob sounded incredulous. “You actually saw that?”

  “Read it. Several times, actually. It was … well … I’m sure you hear this all the time, but it was brilliant.”

  Bob stopped fumbling with the shroud and stared at her like she was crazy.

  “Not that your other papers weren’t brilliant too,” she hastened to add. “They all are. But your Science paper was—”

  “You’ve read my other papers too?”

  “Of course. I’ve been interested in machine vision since high school, but your—”

  “Who are you?” Bob blurted out.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re not a reporter, and you’re obviously not a suit. Should I have heard of you? Perez wouldn’t be giving you the VIP treatment if you weren’t important.”

  “Actually, I’m just a scientist. No VIP treatment. Dr. Perez was just walking me through some tests.”

  “Tests?”

  “For the astronaut corps. I’m hoping to become an Astronaut Candidate.”

  “And Perez is showing you around?” Bob let out a slow whistle. “You must have one hot resume.”

  “Not really. It’s just that the class has already started, and he’s trying to help me catch up.”

  Bob’s mouth fell open. He looked like he’d been punched in the stomach. “The new class began training in July.” His voice was almost a whisper.

  “I know I’m behind, but he said if I worked really hard I’d be able to catch up.”

  Bob shook his head slowly. He obviously didn’t hold out much hope for her. “So what are you really? Some kind of war hero? Bill Gates’s daughter?”

  Valkerie shook her head slowly. What had she said to upset him? He looked like the cat who had just been swallowed by the bigger cat. “Actually, I’m just a microbial ecologist. Nothing special at all.”

  “An ecologist?”

  “That’s what my degree says.” Valkerie shrugged. “But mostly I build equipment. Remote sensors, robotics, that kind of stuff. Basically, I’m just a glorified mechanic.”

  “Uh-huh.” Bob looked down at the treadmill, shoulders sagging like someone had let out all his air.

  Valkerie watched him helplessly as wave after wave of emotion rippled across his features. She should say something, but what? How could she apologize if she didn’t know what she’d said wrong?

  Finally, Bob sighed and an expression of determined resolution hardened his face. He looked up at her and forced a smile.

  “I’m sorry if I said something wrong,” she said in a quiet voice. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your training. It’s just that … I’m a huge fan of your work and I—”

  “I’m fine.” Bob’s features softened and a lopsided grin turned up the right corner of his mouth. “Better than fine really.” He looked down at the treadmill again and took another deep breath. “So … have they given you a chance to … settle in?” An uneasy tremor shook his voice at the last word.

  “Not really. It’s all been such a blur. I just got here yesterday, and already I’ve taken three physicals and a psych test. I haven’t even had a chance to unpack my suitcase.”

  “I know. It’s crazy, right?” Bob said. “Perez is a bulldog. Once he gets hold of an idea, he never lets up on it. He’ll keep pushing and pushing until you’re either dead or … in the position he wants you to be in.” A haunted expression settled over Bob’s features as he spoke, but he chased it away with another forced-looking smile.

  Valkerie nodded, trying to figure out what was going on. She was missing something here. Something big. It was pro
bably as obvious as the dumb expression on her face. If only he’d stop looking at her with those eyes, she’d be able to get her head back in the game.

  “I can help if you want.” The softness of Bob’s voice took her by surprise.

  “Help with what?”

  “Getting acclimated. Showing you the ropes. Whatever I can do.”

  A rush of warmth tingled at her skin. Was Bob Kaganovski … interested?

  In her?

  “Tell you what. To make up for calling you a reporter, I could buy you dinner tonight.”

  “That would be great.” The words were already out before her brain kicked in. The tests! Perez had scheduled her for tests until nine o’clock. What could she say? What if he thought she didn’t want to go? What if she never saw him again?

  “Great!” Bob’s face lit with a hundred megawatt smile. “I’ll pick you up at … What time will you be finished here?”

  “Oh no!” She bopped herself on the head and tried to look as dejected as she felt. “Dr. Perez has me scheduled for tests until nine o’clock. I really want to go, but I’m booked solid through Friday afternoon.”

  Bob’s smile faded. He turned and glanced back across the lab.

  “I’m free Friday night.” She tried to be casual, but it came off sounding desperate. Which was maybe okay. He was Bob Kaganovski after all. He was probably used to desperate.

  “Great. Friday night.” His smile seemed a little wary.

  Had she been too forward? What if he was only asking her because he felt obligated? “If you had other plans …”

  “No!” He shook his head vigorously. “Friday night is … great!”

  “Valkerie!” Dr. Perez’s voice echoed from across the chamber. “I see you’ve already met Bob.”

  She took a quick step back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have interrupted his training.”

  Perez strode toward her, his eyes flicking first to Bob, then to her, and then back to Bob again. A sly smile slid across his face. “No, no, quite all right, I’m sure. Am I correct, Bob?”