by John Olson
“I’ve put a breather on Lex. She is still unconscious. Over.”
Bob grabbed a strap and steadied himself. Kennedy stood over a console, watching it intently.
“Five-fifty,” Kennedy said. “Hang on team, we are almost to a decent cabin pressure. Let’s get it up to six hundred and we can take off our helmets. Hang tight, we are at five-sixty. Seventy. Eighty. Ninety. Six hundred. Clear to remove helmets.”
Bob unlocked the wrist couplings and pulled off his gloves, then reached up and unlocked his helmet. He took it off, breathing a sigh of relief. The air in the cabin was really thin. But he could talk now. Using real sound waves in real air with real people. He’d had enough of disembodied voices in his ear. “How you doing, Hampster?” His voice was up half an octave.
Kennedy looked grim. “We’re not out of the woods yet, Kaggo.”
* * *
Friday, April 4, Year Three, 6:30 P.M.
Nate
Nate paced back and forth beside Capcom Jake Hunter, quietly going nuts. “Try again on vox. Do we have the Ku-band back yet?”
“Negative,” Hunter replied. “Ares 10, this is Houston, do you read?”
Nate mopped his forehead. The crew had suddenly dropped comm about ninety minutes ago. The high-bandwidth telemetry was gone, and so was vox.
Static crackled from the speaker. “Houston, this is Kennedy, do you read?”
Nate spun around and stared at the speaker. Thank God! Vox! They were alive.
“We read you loud and clear, Kennedy. What’s the status? We lost signal eighty-seven minutes—”
“Houston, we have a ... problem. Bob somehow touched off an explosion in the solar panel deployment bay. We breached the hull and had complete loss of cabin pressure. Bob suffered a concussion, possibly other injuries. Valkerie and I were able to rescue him. Lex had to be put in a rescue bubble but suffered massive decompression injuries. We have repressurized the cabin from our reserves and cannibalized the fuel cells, and we are now at a breathable level and rising. But other than that ... Houston, we are under control.”
Hunter turned to Nate. “What do I say first?”
“You can start by telling them we’ve lost the Ku-band signal. The S-band telemetry is telling us there’s a power fault in Main Power Bus B. There is zero power in Main Power Bus B. Get confirmation on that. The telemetry data may be wrong.”
Hunter adjusted his headset. Nate could see him putting on his be-calm-because-I’m-in-control face. “Okay, Ares 10, we have a report that Main Power Bus B is at zero power. Please confirm, power fault on Main Power Bus B. Over.”
But long before the message could have reached the ship, the radio crackled again. “Houston, this is ... uh ... Bob.”
Nate’s throat tightened. Kaggo didn’t sound too good.
“We suspect ... we have been bombed.”
“What is this nonsense?” Nate shook his head. “Ask them again about the power bus.”
“Ares 10, this is Capcom. EECOM is reporting a fault in Main Power Bus B. Please confirm. Over.”
A buzzing sound blared from the tinny speaker. Capcom looked at Nate in shock. “Cabin depressurization again!”
“They said they fixed that,” Nate said, surprised. “Ask them about the power bus. What’s with these people?”
“Ares 10, please report on Power Bus B. Over.”
No answer.
Capcom’s face had gone completely white. “Sir, I think we may have an Apollo 13 on our hands.”
Nate turned to the Flight Director. “Get all your crews in here.”
Steven Perez dashed in. “What’s the status, Nate?”
Nate plopped down in a chair. His guts felt hollow, his heart cold. “All I can tell you at the moment, sir, is that this is not going to be NASA’s finest hour.”
Chapter Twenty
Friday, April 4, Year Three, 6:45 P.M.
Bob
THE DECOMPRESSION ALARM STABBED THROUGH the dark cabin like a screaming dentist drill. Valkerie jumped backward, sending her unconscious patient barrel-rolling across the narrow bunk.
“Bob? Kennedy? What’s happening?”
“We’re decompressing!” Kennedy’s shout sounded shrill on Valkerie’s earphones. “Get Lex back into that bubble.”
Valkerie shook her head in disbelief. The collapsed plastic shell floated in the corner of Lex’s cabin, curling inward around a long gash. “Impossible. I had to cut it open. She’s on a breather, but we’ve got to put her in the hyperbaric chamber!”
Valkerie shot out of the cabin and flew down the stairwell. Kennedy was already pulling the portable hyperbaric chamber from the locker.
“Why aren’t you with Lex?” Kennedy shouted.
Valkerie did an about-face and pushed off for the stairs. By the time she reached Lex’s cabin, Kennedy was right behind her.
He pushed her roughly aside. “You should have put her in this right away. Don’t just stand there. Deploy the chamber while I put her inside!”
Valkerie grabbed the top of the basket-weave Kevlar chamber, pushed up off the floor, and attached it to a ceiling strap. The chamber looked like a children’s toy teepee. Kennedy crawled in through the slit at the bottom, hauling Lex behind him. He zipped it shut from the inside.
“I should be in there with her!” Valkerie shouted. “She needs medical attention right now.”
“Go help Bob!” Kennedy ordered. “I’ve got EMT training. I’m pressurizing now.” The chamber’s walls rapidly puffed out.
Valkerie stared at the chamber in exasperation. It was too late to do anything now. Kennedy and Lex were inside at normal pressure. If she opened the chamber, they’d decompress again—and that could kill Lex.
The beeps of the alarm seemed to be getting closer together, but gradually. A slow leak.
Bob’s voice cut through the alarm. “I’ve deployed the powder. Still no sign of the new leak.”
“Powder?” Valkerie glided down the curved corridor, pushing floaties out of the way.
“Found it!” Bob’s shout drowned out her words. “The powder’s pointing to your patch. I’m going to need a hand. I can’t get in there with the torch. Hurry!”
Valkerie grabbed a ceiling strap and jerked herself forward, smashing her shoulder against a doorway. “Ouch!” She deserved that and more. It was her fault. None of this would be necessary if she had done a better job.
Bob spotted her through all the floaties and motioned her to the rack. “See? The flux lines in the powder? The bottom seam of your patch is leaking.”
The black powder in the air formed a perfect funnel pointing to the base of her patch.
“Sorry.” Valkerie kept her eyes turned to the seam. She had fouled up. If only she had taken the time to test it before throwing open the reserve tanks. If only she ...
Valkerie looked up slowly. Bob was watching her intently. Studying her every move.
“What do you want me to do?”
Bob bit his lip and frowned. She could almost hear his mind churning. What was he thinking? Was he angry? He almost looked ... sad.
He took a slow, deep breath. “Just ... help me fix it. I can’t get through the bars.”
* * *
Friday, April 4, Year Three, 7:30 P.M.
Nate
Nate hovered right behind Jake Hunter, his gut twisting like barbed wire. The pressure in Ares 10 was finally back up to normal. And Kaggo had gone berserk.
“Houston, we want Josh Bennett, and nobody but Josh Bennett.” Bob’s voice crackled over the speakers.
Nate checked his watch. Josh had been at home today, recovering from the flu. He should be here in five minutes. If he flew that Porsche of his instead of taking the freeway.
Dr. Abrams pursed his lips. “They’re displaying classic symptoms of crisis-induced paranoia,” he whispered to Nate. “If you’d just let me talk to them—”
“He’s here!” Perez shouted from out in the hallway.
Nate spun around. Josh ran in, wea
ring a pair of pants but no shirt. “I’m up to speed—Perez filled me in while I drove.” He strode to the mike. Jake Hunter stepped quietly out of his way. Dr. Abrams leaned forward. “Mr. Bennett, let me give you some advice on how to handle—”
Josh keyed the mike without a glance at Abrams. “Ares 10, this is Josh. Talk to me, kiddos. Everything’s going to be all right.” His tone was light, but Nate could see he was devastated. Everything was not going to be all right. But thank God Josh was here.
There followed four minutes in which Bob continued repeating his demand that Josh and only Josh be put online. “Josh!” Bob shouted. “Is that you?”
“Affirmative, Kaggo.” Josh sat down. “Give me an update, buddy. Be aware that the radio delay is now two minutes each way, so just calm down and try to give me information in large blocks. I need a complete status report. How are things in Aresville?”
Dr. Abrams put a hand on his shoulder. “Mr. Bennett, the first thing to remember is that—”
Nate grabbed his elbow. “Dr. Abrams.”
Abrams spun on him. “This is important. Trust is a very fragile thing—”
That was more than Nate was going to take from an overpriced, underpowered shrink. “Out!” he hissed. “I have a mission to run, and you are not going to interfere.”
Steven Perez stepped up. “Dr. Abrams, could I have a word with you?”
Abrams’ eyes went wide, and his face tightened in fury, but he followed Perez out.
Nate turned back to see what Josh was up to.
“—sure you’re right about that, Kaggo, but let’s do first things first, shall we? We’ve got a little engineering problem. EECOM is telling me she’s reading no power on Power Bus B. Can you confirm that?” Josh’s tone was cool, but his face twisted in anguish.
Bob’s voice crackled with tension. “We have just survived a bombing. Have you got that? This is sabotage, and I want some answers. I want to know who had access to Ares 10 after we arrived at KSC in December.”
Nate leaned into Josh’s ear. “You guys are getting into a time warp here. Bob said this two minutes ago and he hasn’t gotten your message yet, so let’s pick up this thread and run with it.”
Josh nodded. “Regarding your comment about a possible bombing, Kaggo, we are initiating a complete check of all personnel who had access to Ares 10 during final assembly of the launch package. I’ll tell you right now, it could be dozens of people.” Josh scrawled a note and handed it to Nate. Nate read it. Get me that list.
That was simple enough, but Josh was wrong. Nate would have Security check the video, but only six people had unrestricted access to the Hab during the assembly phase—Nate, Josh, and the four crew members. He’d made sure of that. So Bob had to be wrong too. This was an accident, not a bomb. Nate wrote the six names on the note and held it up for Josh to read.
Josh’s eyes went wide. He shook his head. “Okay, Kaggo, I’ve put through that request, and we’ll get you that information just as quickly as we can. In the meantime, let’s do a status check. First off, are all of you healthy?”
There followed four minutes of gut-twisting radio silence.
“Negative, Houston.” Valkerie’s voice. “Lex is unconscious in serious but stable condition. She is suffering from ebullism, hypoxia, DCS, and arterial gas embolism. Kennedy has her in the hyperbaric chamber under oxygen and a pressurized IV. It’s too soon to know her prognosis. All we can do is pray that she comes out of it alive. Bob suffered a mild concussion and some compressive injuries to his chest, but he is mobile and alert. Kennedy experienced some disorientation after the explosion, but he’s fine now. I have minor abrasions on my left hand—nothing serious.”
A hush settled around the room. Nate was sweating cannonballs.
Josh pressed his hands to his eyes. After a long pause, he leaned into the mike. “Ares 10—Valkerie, Kennedy, Bob, and especially Lex—please be aware that our prayers are with you.”
Nate hadn’t prayed since fifth grade, and he wasn’t going to start now. The only thing that could help Ares 10 was a good solid team of engineers. He handed Josh another note: STATUS CHECK NOW!
Josh picked it up. “Um, Ares 10, if we could run that status check on Power Bus B, I’d like to be able to tell EECOM that there’s just a glitch in her telemetry data. Could you look into that for me, Kaggo?”
Another long, horrible pause. Then Bob’s voice, tight. “Serious problem here, Houston. Solar Panel B is gone.”
Josh stared at Nate. “Does he mean it’s gone offline?”
Bob sounded close to panic. “Solar Panel B was blown away by the explosion.”
“It’s disappeared!” Valkerie’s voice broke in. “We can’t even find it on radar. Josh, what are we going to do?”
* * *
Friday, April 4, Year Three, 11:00 P.M.
Bob
Bob sat slumped at the conference table while Valkerie dressed the wounds on his right arm.
“No more shrapnel.” Valkerie taped on a bandage. “Just a couple of massive hickeys. You were lucky. We all were.” Valkerie’s voice trembled.
“Ares 10, this is Houston.” Nate’s voice came over the comm.
Bob lunged for the receiver and turned up the gain.
“We have no definitive word yet on whether that was a bomb or an accident. We are still reviewing the evidence. But we do have an answer to your question about access. A team of federal agents has reviewed our security records. The videos show that only six people had unsupervised access to the Hab. The Ares 10 prime crew plus Josh Bennett and myself. Repeat, we are still reviewing the technical evidence, but the security review seems to rule out a bomb or any kind of sabotage. Please confirm. Over.”
“It was a bomb, all right,” Kennedy muttered. “Nate, this is CDR confirming. Only the crew, Josh, or you had unsupervised access. You haven’t finished analyzing the evidence yet. Now here’s my two cents. I was there. I saw the explosion. It was definitely a bomb.”
Bob felt woozy, disoriented. The crew, Nate, or Josh? Impossible. It had to be an outsider, somebody who could get through the security system and ... The audit leaped into his mind. P.T. Henderson. Who would steal JSC pyros rather than bring a bomb in from the outside? Who could get past the heightened security? All the evidence pointed to an inside job.
Bob looked up from the table. Kennedy’s eyes darted back and forth between him and Valkerie. Valkerie looked as if she was going to be sick.
Nate? Josh? Absolutely not, he’d known them for eight years. The crew? Ridiculous. It was suicide. What could possibly be worth ... oh God, no ... Sidney Nichols. Valkerie’s old boyfriend. He’d given his life for a stupid research lab. What would a guy like him have sacrificed to stop Mars?
Bob felt sick. A damp chill spread across his back. He couldn’t breathe. He twisted free of the table bars and gathered his legs under him to push off for the bathroom.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Kennedy’s voice froze him like a slap in the face.
“To the bathroom.” Bob’s own voice sounded hollow in his ears.
“Not now, you’re not,” Kennedy growled. “We’ve got to talk. We told you not to go near that wire, and you touched it anyway. I want to know why.”
“It was an accident!” Bob spluttered. “That multimeter somehow got switched to measure resistance, and when I touched the power wire—”
“What do you mean, somehow got switched?” Hostility tightened Kennedy’s face. “How?”
“I tried to set it to Voltage, but I was having a little vertigo out there, and my vision was playing tricks on me.”
“Why didn’t you call off the spacewalk, then?”
“Because you wanted to stay out and play. I wanted to come in—”
“Then why didn’t you say so?”
Bob glared at Kennedy. “What are you trying to say? You think I’m the bomber? That’s real bright—I was the one who got hit the hardest.”
“So maybe you’re suicidal,” Kenned
y said. “Maybe you wanted to go out with a bang. The rest of us would have lingered, but you’d have had the easy way out.”
“That’s ... bogus.” Bob turned away from the table. “You’ve known me how long? Eight years? And you think I’m suicidal?”
“Guys, stop it.” Valkerie put a hand on each man’s arm. “Nate’s got to be wrong. There have to be more suspects than just us six.”
Bob shook his head. “No ... I think he’s right. When somebody breaks a really secure system, it’s usually an insider.”
Kennedy nodded. “It’s true. And I hate to say it, Kaggo, but you make a pretty good suspect.”
“What’s my motive?” Bob jutted his chin at Kennedy. “Give me one good reason why I’d want to blow up this ship. Go back and read your Sherlock Holmes, Hampster. Motive is everything. Without that, you haven’t got a case.”
“I agree,” Valkerie said. “Bob would never bomb this ship.”
“Okay, fine,” Kennedy growled. “If it’s motive we’re looking for, how about Josh? He got cheated out of this mission by a stupid teamwork index. That had to make him bitter.”
Bob thought about that idea, trying it on for size. Would Josh try to kill them ... just because Perez had derailed his career? Not in a million years. If he were going to take anyone out, it would be Perez.
“Um, guys,” Valkerie said. “I went to talk to Josh right after he stepped down from the mission. I thought he was going to hate me. And ... and he didn’t. His only concern was for the mission. If it doesn’t succeed, he won’t get a chance at the next one. If you’re looking for a motive ... all I can say is, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Josh would never do anything to hurt us.”
Kennedy rubbed his eyes. “She’s got a point, Kaggo.”
Bob felt his heart constricting.
“I hate to say this, but what about Lex?” Kennedy asked. “What was Lex doing while we were out there? Valkerie, did you see what she was up to?”