Oxygen Series Box Set: A Science Fiction Suspense Box Set

by John Olson

  Bob slumped in his chair. So Kennedy thought he was paranoid. Was that what Josh and Lex thought too? Probably. That’s what gave him his edge. They were counting on him to get the ship to Mars and back. Weren’t they? Or did they already know what Flight Med was up to? Great. Now he was sounding paranoid again. But how could you tell whether you were paranoid or people really were out to get you?

  Bob checked his schedule for the day. Great, he had a flight-sim exercise in twelve minutes. One of those totally pointless things. The other three crew were ace pilots, but if they somehow got incapacitated, he had to know how to fly the ship. Right. Either the thing flew itself, or he’d be dogmeat. He was lucky if he could fly an elevator. But no use pointing that out. His position was precarious enough right now.

  If they replaced him, he knew exactly who they’d bring in. Valkerie was too good for NASA to ignore. A medical doctor. A Ph.D. biochemist. Healthy as all get-out. Coordinated. And a crackerjack mechanic. Oh yeah, she was sociable too, unlike Kaggo over in this corner, Mr. Social Misfit.

  Bob walked out of the lab, cut across the lawn past the duck ponds, and into Building 16. He didn’t get over here much, but it was hard to get lost. Walk in, take a left, and follow the big pipe that ran along the ceiling—all the way back to the flight-sim lab.

  Steven Perez stood on the stairs leading up to the large metal dome. “Okay, run that one again, Valkerie.”

  Bob stopped. What was going on?

  Perez hurried down the stairs. “Good morning, Bob! I came by your lab half an hour ago, but you weren’t in. I know we had you scheduled for some training, but I wanted to give Dr. Jansen a crack at this too.” He put a hand on Bob’s shoulder. “Realistically, I think you’ve gotten about as good as you’re going to get on this machine, and it’s not likely you’ll ever need to use this training anyway. So if you don’t mind ... ?”

  A cold knot tightened around Bob’s gut. Smile. Act calm. Don’t go postal. “That’s just fine, Dr. Perez. I’m anxious to work on the Hab some more, anyway.” Don’t act so stiff. Lighten up.

  Perez nodded. “I appreciate all the work you’ve done to improve the human factors on the Hab. That’s especially important for our female crew members.”

  Bob nodded and felt his insides go numb. Female crew members. Plural. The last time he’d checked, Lex was the only female on the crew. Since when was “one” plural?

  Perez’s cell phone rang. He pulled it out. “Perez here.” His face darkened. “Well, uh, hello, Senator Axton! What a pleasure to have you visiting today! Yes, I can meet you in about ... five minutes. You’re in my office now? How nice. I’ll be right over.”

  Perez jammed the phone in his pocket. “Um, Bob, could you maybe give Valkerie a few pointers on the sim? The trainers aren’t in yet, and I’ve got a little forest fire to put out.”

  “Sure, no problem.” Bob took a deep breath. A little time alone with Valkerie. He hadn’t been expecting this, but he might as well take advantage of it. He had an apology to make, and now was as good a time as any.

  He poked his head inside the half-dome.

  Valkerie lay in the pilot’s seat, totally absorbed in the sim. She looked bone tired. At nine-thirty in the morning! Poor kid.

  “Valkerie?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Valkerie, I’m really sorry. I was a ...”

  Bob stepped all the way into the sim and came around to look her in the eye. He froze.

  She was asleep.

  * * *

  Monday, August 27, Year One, 9:45 A.M.

  Valkerie

  Valkerie woke with a start. Bob Kaganovski’s face filled her blurry vision. “Bob! What are you doing in my bed—” She blinked her eyes, trying to make sense of the control panels that surrounded her.

  Bob stepped back and shuffled uneasily beside her. “I’m sorry. Dr. Perez asked me to help you run the sim, but I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

  “To wake me?” Valkerie looked around the room, trying to get her bearings.

  “You look really tired.”

  Valkerie nodded. “Harrington’s been working my tail off. I’m beginning to wonder if being an astronaut is worth it.”

  “Probably not. Axton’s on the rampage again. Chances are you’d only get halfway through the ASCAN program before Congress cuts our funding. Who knows what’s going to happen if Ares 10 doesn’t get off the ground?”

  “Ares 10? Why wouldn’t—” Valkerie put a hand to her mouth. Bob’s here for the simulator. Idiot. “I’m so sorry. This was supposed to be your time. I didn’t ... Perez didn’t ask me before bumping you from the schedule.” Valkerie slid out of the seat and tried to stand, but her legs wobbled under her like overcooked spaghetti.

  “No, sit down. Please.” Bob reached out for her arm but hesitated and took back his hand. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be fine. I’m just tired.” Valkerie pulled herself up by a handle on the wall. Her feet felt hot and swollen, and her lower back burned with dull pain. “Harrington scheduled me for the Vomit Comet at five and then had me on a treadmill program for over two hours.”

  “Nate Harrington? Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like Nate.”

  “I’m sure, all right. He’s trying to break me. Trying to get me to withdraw my application.”

  “No way. He’s on our side. Nate would never—” Bob froze. He looked as if he’d just swallowed a bumblebee.

  “Nate wouldn’t what?”

  “Oh, nothing. I, uh ... was just thinking that I wanted to apologize for Friday night. I was really a jerk. I—”

  “You were fine. I’m the one who needs to apologize. I was tired ... I wasn’t myself at all. I totally overreacted.” Valkerie paused. Bob didn’t seem to be paying attention. A frown creased his forehead.

  “Are you sure Nate made out your schedule? Nate Harrington?” he asked.

  “I’m positive. He called me up at four and told me himself.”

  “Four A.M.?”

  “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I promise it was him. I just saw him ...” Valkerie looked at her watch. “Oh no! I’ve got to get to Building 8. I’ve got a ‘Bruce protocol’ test in ten minutes.”

  “Hold on a second! Let me get this straight. Nate scheduled you for the Vomit Comet at five, then two hours of PT, and now you have a Bruce protocol test at ten?”

  “Look, Bob, I’m really sorry. My behavior Friday night was inexcusable, and I don’t blame you a bit for being mad, but I’ve got an appointment in nine minutes, and I really can’t afford to be late.” Valkerie ducked past Bob and hurried through the door of the dome.

  “Valkerie! Wait!”

  Following the pipe at a quick jog, she mentally kicked herself every step of the way to the main entrance. Had she said something wrong? She pushed through the doors and ran across the campus lawn toward Building 8. And why did Bob have to be so ... irritating? She entered the building at a quick walk. Two minutes later, she was standing out of breath in the exercise room.

  “Valerie Jansen?” A man in a white lab coat walked into the room from an adjacent office.

  “Sorry I’m late. I just came from Building 16.”

  “Well, I hope you didn’t run. This is a maximal-effort stress test, you know. I’ll need to get your BP and heart rate during exercise and at rest.”

  “Maximal effort?”

  “Yes. Basically, we’ll run you to exhaustion.”

  Valkerie felt the blood drain from her face. She was so tired she could hardly stand. She wouldn’t have a chance. Harrington was going to win after all.

  Chapter Six

  Monday, August 27, Year One, 10:15 A.M.

  Bob

  BOB STORMED PAST CAROL’S DESK and into Nate’s inner office. Nate stood staring vacantly out the window.

  “Excuse me!” Carol called. “I don’t think—”

  Bob slammed the door. “I want an explanation for this.”

  Nate turned and slumped heavily into his chair.
He looked as if his pet dragon had just died. “How’d you find out so fast?”

  Bob sat down on the edge of a chair. “She told me.”

  “Who told you? Carol?” Nate pressed his hands to his temples. “She doesn’t know a thing about it. I just finished talking to Axton five minutes ago.”

  “I don’t care about Axton. I want to know why you’re treating Valkerie Jansen like road kill.”

  “Oh. Um, right. Valkerie.” Nate’s face darkened. “She came late, and she’s way behind the other ASCANs.”

  “And that’s her fault?”

  “Bob, there’s a lot going on that you don’t know—”

  “Nate, I do know this. Valkerie is going to make a fabulous astronaut someday. She’ll be a star on the Space Station. Or the Ares 14 mission, if there is one. But she’s not going to make it if you keep pounding her into the dirt. Vomit Comet runs at 5:00 A.M., followed by two hours of PT. That’s outrageous! And then you have the gall to schedule her for a Bruce protocol stress test. What kind of a sadist—”

  “If she’s not tough enough, it’s better to find out early.”

  “Tough enough for what? Fifteen rounds with the Olympic heavyweight champion? I’m not tough enough for a quarter of the stuff you’re dumping on her. Neither is Josh. Or Kennedy. I don’t think even Lex could handle it. What gives you the right to—”

  “Listen, Bob, if you knew what was coming down the pike, you’d thank me.”

  “Thank you? For torturing a good woman? What kind of person do you think I am?”

  Nate swiveled his chair and stared out the window.

  Bob swallowed, waiting for the inevitable.

  Nate kept on staring. Maybe they hadn’t made up their minds yet. Maybe he still had a chance.

  “Just lighten up on Valkerie, okay? Does Perez know what kind of schedule you’ve got her on?”

  “Perez went around me to bring her in. If he doesn’t like her schedule, he can dump her on somebody else.” Nate opened an aspirin bottle, shook two tablets into his hand, and washed them down with coffee. “Any other Excedrin questions?”

  “Yeah. Want me to tell Perez you said that?”

  “Go ahead, make my—”

  “Mr. Harrington, am I late?” A woman’s voice at the door.

  Bob spun around. A middle-aged Asian woman stood framed in the doorway.

  “Ah, Ms. Yamaguchi, come in, please.” Nate turned to Bob. “Thanks for dropping by, Bob.”

  Bob stood up. Now get lost. “Nate, I want you to lighten up on Valkerie. I don’t care what’s coming down the pike, what you’re doing to her is wrong.” He stalked past the woman and out the door. Perez was going to hear about this.

  Behind him, Carol called out, “Oh, Agent Yamaguchi? Your office called and left a message for you.”

  Bob’s pulse picked up a notch. Agent Yamaguchi? As in FBI? Why were they bringing in the FBI? And what had Perez done to get Nate so riled? Nate was almost autonomous. Perez didn’t carry much clout over him, except in building allocations and ... personnel.

  Personnel. Perez controlled astronaut assignments. And the only astronauts Nate had were on the Ares 10 prime and backup crews.

  Kaggo, we have a problem.

  * * *

  Tuesday, August 28, Year One, 11:30 A.M.

  Valkerie

  Valkerie leaned back in the flight chair and watched the universal docking port rotate on the monitor in front of her. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing her sore muscles and aching neck to relax. “Come on. Just a little more ...” She tapped the joystick a hair to the right, and the docking port stopped rotating. She brushed the thruster control, and the port began to grow larger. “Adjusting attitude. Once more, and ... there!”

  “Maneuver Successful”—the message flashed green on her computer screen. She looked around the dome. Good. Still alone.

  Valkerie searched the menu for another maneuver to practice. So far it was working. Perez had her down for SES training all morning. Did he know how badly she needed it? She must have done horribly on the Bruce protocol test yesterday. The doctor didn’t say anything, but her resting pulse and blood pressure had to be off the chart. And she reached exhaustion embarrassingly soon. She tried to explain her schedule to the doc, but he didn’t seem to care. Apparently Harrington had already gotten to him. The race was fixed. Why even bother to run?

  Valkerie chose another docking maneuver and scanned the instrument panels. Oh great. The space station was coming in way too fast. She fired the forward thrusters, but the ship didn’t respond. What was going on? She pitched the ship around 180 degrees and fired the aft thrusters long and hard. Nothing.

  Great. Must be a glitch in the program. Oh well, crash and burn time—unless ... She pitched the ship another ninety degrees and rolled so that it was coming in broadside. Overriding the lockouts, she fired the RCS side thrusters simultaneously. The ship shimmied and started rotating, forcing her to switch from one set of side thrusters to the other and to keep a constant hand on the joystick to counter rotation. Good ... she was slowing. One hundred meters, eighty, seventy. She fought to position the ship. Thirty meters. Just about there ... She yawed the ship around in an ultraslow cartwheel to the docking port. “Attitude. Rotate, rotate ... yes!”

  The green “Maneuver Successful” message flashed once on the monitor and then the screen went blank. A message appeared one letter at a time on the monitor. “Beautiful work. Couldn’t have done better myself.”

  Valkerie rotated in the flight seat and looked back through the dome window. Josh Bennett waved at her with a grin. He motioned down at her vid screen.

  A message appeared. “Want to do another one?”

  Valkerie turned around and shook her head. She had gotten lucky. The odds were one in a million that she could pull off a repeat performance.

  Josh ducked away from the window and appeared at the simulator door. “That was terrific! They told me you weren’t a pilot.”

  “I’m not, but Dr. Perez is letting me play on the equipment anyway. I think he knows how much I need a break.”

  “Well, I’ve been flying since I was thirteen, and it took me two tries to get the Wilcutt maneuver right. Most people don’t even think of it. You’re a natural.”

  Valkerie smiled. Josh’s eyes sparkled with excitement. Most guys she knew would be threatened, but he seemed truly pleased—as if he had made an important new discovery.

  “I guess I should tell you my secret. I thought the computer had glitched. I was just goofing off and happened to get lucky. Too bad the trainers weren’t here to see it, huh?”

  “Oh, they’ll see it all right. Everything you do on this machine is recorded.”

  “Everything? But ...” Valkerie tried to remember—how much time had she spent playing around? “If I’d known I was being monitored, I’d have taken it more seriously.”

  “I’m sure you did fine.”

  “That’s not the point! This place is—it’s worse than Big Brother. Last night one of the security guards insisted on searching my pack before he would let me leave. Why do you put up with it?”

  “I don’t know why the security’s so tight right now, but I’m sure there’s a good reason for it. They’re doing it for our protection. Everything. The tests, the training, the monitoring. If you were fifty million miles away from the nearest human being and you had to execute a perfect Wilcutt maneuver to save your life, would you be happy knowing that NASA had left that part of your training up to chance?”

  “Yeah, right. Like I’ll ever have a chance at a space flight.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Nate Harrington. He’s made it very clear he wants me out of the program.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure. The way they’re pushing your training, I’d say they’ve got you slated for Ares 10 backup. For ... Susan’s position.” Josh’s face darkened and he looked down at Valkerie’s console.

  Valkerie waited for Josh to look up. “Wh
o’s Susan?”

  “Susan Dillard. She was a friend of mine.”

  “Was?”

  “We were out in the desert on my bike. I guess I was going too fast. I didn’t see a section of barbed wire until it was too late.”

  “Did she ... ?”

  Josh shook his head. “Broken hip. Not bad. It’ll heal in time, but she’s out of the corps.” Josh looked off into space. “And she blames me.”

  “I’m really sorry. Were you ... dating?”

  “No. We were just friends, but I ...”

  Valkerie watched the emotions racing across Josh’s face. He was silent for a long time, but it was a comfortable silence. She felt at ease with him.

  “I know that NASA has taken a lot of hits in the last ten years, but it’s still a great organization. It’s so important. So vital ... I was an idiot. In one burst of blazing stupidity, I could have ruined the mission. I could have killed NASA.”

  “Don’t you think you’re being just a little overdramatic?”

  Josh shook his head. “Some politicians would like nothing better than to dismantle the entire space program. If a rocket doesn’t carry a warhead, they don’t want to have anything to do with it.”

  “That’s what Bob said. He thinks Congress may cut NASA’s budget again.”

  “They may have already done it. Senator Axton visited yesterday, and I’ve been getting weird vibes from Nate and Perez. Nate just set up a meeting with me at one. He sounded like a funeral director.”

  “But you’re so close to launch. Surely they wouldn’t cancel the mission now. The country would be furious.”

  “They might not cancel this one, but I’m worried about the big picture. Going to Mars once doesn’t mean we’ll get to go back. If the Ares 10 mission isn’t a smashing success, if we don’t bring back more than just a few dry, red-tinted moon rocks, then there won’t be an Ares 14. NASA as we know it may cease to exist.”