by John Olson
“It’s okay.” Bob assumed his dopiest grin. “Just say it. It’s not like I haven’t heard it before.”
“Say what?”
“That I’m a geek with a capital gamma.”
“Like I’m one to throw stones.” She was laughing now. “Dr. Pot, meet Miss Kettle.”
“Um … right.” He tried to think of something clever, but the paradigms were shifting faster than he could keep up. She was a scientist, not a beauty queen. Why was that so hard to remember?
He realized he was staring and forced his eyes to the front of the car. Easy there, Kaggo. Calm down before you start drooling. He started the engine, and revved it just enough to rock the car.
“I must say I’m a little disappointed.” Valkerie’s voice sounded above the thrum of the engine as he pulled out of the parking lot. “No fuzzy dice? What kind of a geek would do all this and forget the fuzzy dice?”
Bob laughed out loud and the tension started draining from his body.
“What’s so funny?” She sounded miffed.
“Check the glovebox.”
She opened the compartment and laughed.
“I can take you back—if you’ve changed your mind about dinner …”
Valkerie hung the fuzzy dice on his rearview mirror. “Lucky for you I’m hungry.”
He glanced at her again to make sure she was still smiling and headed for Saturn Lane. Electricity tingled up and down his spine, spreading out to the tips of his fingers. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Things were going way too well. When was the bubble going to pop?
When they reached Gate 1, Bob stopped and honked at half a dozen protesters standing in the right-hand lane waving picket signs.
“Sorry,” he said to Valkerie. “The rules are that you give pedestrians a full one-lane buffer. I can’t go by until they move.” He waved at them to step back.
They didn’t budge.
The security guard at the gate walked toward them.
The protesters backed away.
Bob eased the clutch out and glided forward. “Pretty crazy, huh? They think the only reason we’re going to Mars is to prove evolution. Which they think is a religious issue, by the way. Here in Houston, people take their religion seriously.”
“Is that a ... problem?” Valkerie asked. “I mean ... everybody believes in something, right?”
“Oh yeah, sure.”
A brief pause. “Do you?”
Great … Bob felt his gut clenching. Dr. Bubble, meet Miss Pin. It was way too early for this conversation. He needed more time. Time for her to get to know him first. One of the tabloids had run an outlandish article on him three months ago that made him sound like some kind of weird mystic just because he could talk about quantum mechanics and Thomas Aquinas in the same sentence. “You probably heard I went to private Catholic schools growing up, but it wasn’t like you might think.” He glanced over at Valkerie, tried to read her face, but all he got was a voice in his head telling him this was way too good to last.
“I hear they have good schools,” Valkerie said. “The Catholics, I mean.”
“They have a great system. Best in Chicago. I’m glad I got a chance to go.”
“They? So you’re not Catholic?”
Bob’s muscles suddenly locked up. After an eternal second he looked away and changed lanes to cover for his silence. Why couldn’t she just leave it alone? He’d met way too many scientists who wanted to put him in a pigeonhole so he couldn’t get away when they started throwing rocks. But there just weren’t any Kaganovski-shaped pigeonholes.
“Let’s just say I wouldn’t be burning Galileo at the stake.” Bob turned to gauge her reaction. It was a pretty lame way to evade her question, but maybe if he made it clear he was being evasive she’d take the hint and drop it. She needed to get to know him better before opening up the whole religion can of worms. Politics, money and religion. Wasn’t there some kind of a rule about avoiding those topics on a first date?
Valkerie didn’t say anything.
Bob risked another look at her.
She was studying him through lash-shadowed eyes. Like she wanted to ask him more, but didn’t want to pry.
“So what do you think about the Mars mission?” he said. “Think we’ll find life on Mars?”
She shrugged. “It’s hard to say. We know so little about life. We only have one Tree of Life to go by, and we have absolutely no idea whether other types of trees are even possible. The big question is whether life on this planet had any choice.”
“You mean like convergent evolution or something?”
“That, sure, but deeper than that. Even limiting ourselves to carbon-based life forms, the questions are endless. Could life have evolved with eight nucleotides rather than five? What if codons were four bases instead of three? What would RNA-based life look like? Are there options besides DNA and RNA? But of course who’s to say life even has to be carbon-based? Who says it even has to be covalent-bond-based? We have no idea what our constraints are. Another form of life could walk up and bite you on the nose, and you might not even recognize it as life.”
“I never claimed to be a biologist. I’m just backing up Josh. He’ll be the one doing the field work.”
“I’m not talking about you personally. I’m talking about anyone. It’s possible there might be life forms out there so different from our concept of life that we won’t even be able to recognize them.”
Bob gripped the steering wheel harder. He understood the questions, but … he never would have thought to ask them. He wasn’t just out of his depth here. He wasn’t even in the same pool as Valkerie.
“In fact—” Her voice was suddenly playful—“if you find life on Mars, it’s possible that it might be more amenable to study by a physicist like you than a biologist like Josh Bennett. You have no way of knowing until you find it. If it fell out of a completely different Tree of Life, everything Bennett knows about biology might be completely useless.”
Bob glanced back at Valkerie and the look she gave him was so encouraging it took his breath away.
She had no idea what Perez was planning. No idea at all.
It was going to kill her when she found out. And the more time she spent with him, the worse she was going to feel. She was a genuinely nice person. No wonder Perez wanted her on the mission. And a face like that could launch a twenty billion dollar ship. NBS was going to eat her up.
A dull ache settled into Bob’s stomach. She was going to make Josh look like yesterday’s news. Guys were going to be lined up for miles.
Bob turned into the Enzo’s parking lot and swung the Mustang into the first parking space.
“Are you okay?” Valkerie leaned toward him, a look of concern creasing her forehead. He could smell the fragrance of her hair. Flowers and forests and sunshine …
“Bob?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I was just … thinking.”
“Yeah?” She shifted sideways in her seat, leaning back like she was settling in for a long story. “About what?”
Bob’s throat felt suddenly tight. He couldn’t tell her what he was thinking, but she was so beautiful … How could he think about anything else? This was where he always blew it. No matter what he said, it was always wrong. What did she want to hear?
“Does the pressure ever get to you?” she asked. “Knowing your crew is depending on you? All those reporters and fans hanging on your every word? The protesters? It would kill me.”
“You’ll be fine.”
Valkerie’s expression twisted. She started to say something, but he cut her off.
“It’s not that bad. It’s Josh’s crew—not mine. He’s the one in the spotlight. I’m just the grease monkey lurking in the shadows. The only people hanging on my words are the people asking questions about Josh.”
“You really believe that, don’t you?” Her eyes were laughing at him now. She smiled and Bob’s brain melted on the spot. He could feel it running out his ears and dripping onto the floo
r.
“It’s true. They could take me off the mission tomorrow, nobody would even notice.”
“I’d notice.”
Bob felt the heat starting to rise to his face. A few more seconds and he’d be a glowplug. “I’m serious. The probability of me staying with the crew all the way to launch is almost zero. I knew the risk going in, and I’m okay with it. Whatever’s best for the crew, that’s what I want. I need you to know that. All I want is what’s best for the crew.”
He turned and got out of the car slowly, exhaling a long sigh as he shut the door behind him. Valkerie still hadn’t moved. He could feel her eyes on him as he walked around the car to open her door.
He hadn’t lied to her. He could feel it deep down in his heart. If Valkerie was the best person for the mission—if having her on the crew meant they’d be safer and faster and more effective, then he’d be totally fine with that.
She was a good person. She deserved it.
But …
If Perez had picked her just for the cameras, if she didn’t have the skills to pull it off, if she wasn’t better than him, then he needed to make sure he was ready too. The crew was depending on him. He’d do everything he could to train her, and he’d do everything he could to train himself. At the end of the day, it really didn’t really matter which of them ended up going.
Because one of them was staying behind.
Either way, he’d end up being the big loser.
* * *
Friday, August 24, Year One, 6:20 P.M.
Valkerie
It took Valkerie five seconds to fall in love with Enzo’s—about as long as it took her to scan the menu. She was probably going to regret this evening next time she got on a scale, but … just for one night, she was going to enjoy herself. Enjoy the food. Enjoy the company. Enjoy getting to know Bob.
Bob Kaganovski. She still couldn’t believe it. The media made a big deal out of Josh Bennett, the mission commander and the public face of the team. Josh looked like a movie star, but the problem was, whenever he opened his mouth he sounded like a movie star too.
But Bob was the real deal. There hadn’t been much coverage of him for the last few months, but Valkerie had watched every minute of it. Anyone who understood technology knew that Bob was the one person the mission couldn’t do without. She couldn’t wait to get back to her room and call her dad and tell him who she was hobnobbing with. He was going to freak.
After they ordered, Valkerie leaned forward and smiled at Bob. “So … I understand you went to Berkeley. How’d you like it there?”
An odd look spasmed across his face and he studied his knuckles for a few seconds. “You know I went to Cal?”
“It’s not exactly a secret. Remember that little two hour special on NBS last month?”
“Oh. Right. Well, Berkeley was great. When I started, I thought I was going to do superstring theory. Just like every other geek in the class.” Bob gave a short laugh. “I dumped that delusion quicker than most of them. Turns out I’m pretty good with a screwdriver.” Bob’s eyes flickered up from his hands to her face—without any discernible stops along the way.
She smiled her appreciation at him. There was a time she would have considered it genetically impossible for a guy to do that. Thank God for genetic anomalies. “Did you get over to Old Saint Mary’s in San Francisco? I visited there once and it was gorgeous.”
He shrugged. “Not really, but … hey, that reminds me. I read your Nature paper on extremophiles. Have you ever been to Antarctica?”
Valkerie looked down at her napkin to hide her annoyance. Every time she tried to talk about something personal, he changed the subject back to something work-related. Was that what this was to him? A business dinner?
“We can talk about something else …” Bob said. “I don’t mean to bore you.”
“No!” Valkerie blurted the word out. Way too loud. Great. Now she sounded desperate. “You’re not boring me at all. Extremophiles are fine.” She reestablished eye contact and forced a smile. “I’ve never been to Antarctica, but I’ve been to geothermal sites in Hawaii and Iceland and Alaska …” She launched into an explanation of how she’d discovered Thermococcus ferrophilus living it up in a toasty 120°C underground vent feeding a series of hot springs in Iceland.
Bob peppered her with questions, keeping her on the subject long after their dinner arrived. He seemed genuinely interested … In fact he was so excited about the “molebot” she’d developed that he was bouncing in his chair like a six year old. But every time she hazarded a question about his personal life, he always steered the conversation back to her work—field sensors, prospecting robots, extremophiles … It felt more like an interview than a date.
“Enough about robots,” Valkerie finally said. “Tell me about you. How long have you lived in Houston?”
“Too long.” He grinned at her. “I hear the heat is supposed to grow on you, but so far I’m not very thermophilic. And now that Perez is in charge, things are going to get even hotter. Nate Harrington’s officially in charge of the Mars mission, but Perez has been shaking things up a lot. It could get ugly very soon.”
“I’ve met Harrington. He didn’t exactly seem overjoyed to see me.” Valkerie leaned forward, happy to finally have someone on the inside to confide in. “Dr. Perez has been wonderful, but Harrington treated me like I’d just axe-murdered his grandma. He all but said he was going to kick me out of the program first chance he got. What’s up with that? Was it supposed to be part of the psych test? They were just playing good boss, bad boss?”
Bob’s mouth dropped open. She could see the color draining from his face. “I … uh … Nate’s just like that. More rough edges than a sea urchin. I’m sure it wasn’t you. He was probably just upset about … politics.”
“It was me all right. He made Perez agree that if I didn’t pass his tests he could kick me out of the program. I could tell he wasn’t going to let me pass them. He all but came out and said it.”
Bob sighed and raked his fingers into his hair. His knuckles whitened. He looked like he was fighting the urge to yank it out by the roots. “Look … It’s not going to happen. Everything’s going to be fine. Perez won’t let it happen. I won’t let it happen.”
“But why … What does Harrington have against me?”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with you. It’s just … politics.”
“What politics? What’s going on?”
Bob chewed on his lower lip and watched her forlornly from across the table. He knew what it was. She could see it in his eyes. He seemed like he wanted to tell her, but something was holding him back.
“Look, if it’s a secret, I don’t need to know. I don’t want to get you into trouble.”
His eyes tightened in pain—like she’d just stabbed him in the gut.
“I’m sorry. I just don’t understand. Any of this.” She reached out her hand, but he just stared at it with a blank expression. “If you don’t want to be here—if Perez is forcing you to do this, to help catch me up with the rest of the class or … whatever—I promise I’ll tell him you were wonderful. More than wonderful. I never meant to be a burden.”
“No!” Bob practically jumped out of his chair. “You’re not being a burden at all. And Perez isn’t making me do anything. I …” His expression turned inward. Battling emotions played across his face. Finally his shoulders slumped in a silent sigh and the ghost of a lopsided smile twisted his lips. Good or bad, he’d made up his mind about something. “Look … I asked you here because I wanted to get to know you better. I think you’re really … great. You’ll be a huge asset to the program.”
Valkerie nodded cautiously.
“Nate is old school. He doesn’t like change, but sometimes change is for the best. He’ll come around. He doesn’t have a choice.” Bob’s voice hardened. “I’ll make him come around.”
A surge of warmth rose up inside her. She didn’t know what was going on, but Bob seemed to be offering his protec
tion. Like a chivalrous knight of the round table. This had to be more than just work for him. He couldn’t be this nice to all his coworkers. Could he?
Bob grinned and leaned back in his chair. “Say … would you be interested in banana cheesecake? It’s an Enzo’s specialty.”
“Sure.” She could worry about the calories Monday. Right now she needed to get Bob talking about … Bob. She might not get another chance. Maybe he just needed her to prime the pump a little.
She leaned forward. “Want to hear a secret?”
Bob’s right cheek dimpled as he leaned forward and spoke in a soft whisper. “I have top secret security clearance.”
“When I was a little girl, the one thing I wanted most in all the world was to be …”
He took a sip of his Coke.
“… a garbagewoman.”
Bob choked out a laugh and Coke squirted out of his nose. He wiped his face with his napkin, grinning like a maniac. “That was evil! Give a guy a little warning, would you?”
“So what did you want to be when you were a little boy?”
He thought for half a minute. “A ballerina.”
Valkerie snorted with laughter, which was horribly embarrassing, but Bob didn’t seem to mind.
“Okay, seriously,” he said. “What did you really want to be when you were a kid?”
“You mean after my garbagewoman phase?” she said. “For a long time I wanted to be a nurse, but when I got to third grade, I realized a woman could be a doctor, so I wanted to be a family practitioner. Then I started getting a swollen head and decided to be a heart surgeon—you know, the best in the world at heart transplants. But then when I got to Yale …”
She gave him the entire History of Valkerie—only editing out the humiliation of her freshman year. Organic chemistry, biochem, molecular biology … Getting sucked into the world of proteins and DNA—the magical universe of self-replicating machines that ran on its own. Deciding to go to med school. Dropping out of her surgery residency to take care of Mom when she got cancer. The horrible aftermath when chemo and radiation turned out to be too little too late. Her decision to switch to molecular biology and then microbial ecology …