Oxygen Series Box Set: A Science Fiction Suspense Box Set
Page 27
“How can I sleep when my crew’s in danger?”
“Josh, I need you sharp. The next few days are going to be critical. I may need you to help me make a tough decision soon. And you can’t do that if you’re brain-dead tired.”
Josh hesitated, then nodded and left.
Crystal pulled on Nate’s sleeve. “Have you got a secure room?”
Nate nodded and led her out and down the hall to a conference room. “Guaranteed bug free, sound-proof, and all that. Now what’s this dirt on Josh?”
Crystal opened her briefcase and pulled out a folder. “You remember that blueprint of the Hab that turned up in a Japanese terrorist cell a year and a half ago?”
“How could I forget?” Nate said. “That’s how I met you.”
“We just connected them to a group of university students in Tokyo. Japanese security raided their computers and found a copy of the blueprint as an e-mail attachment. It came in through an anonymous remailer in Finland.”
“A what?”
“And we had Interpol get a court order to open their files. Guess where the e-mail originated?”
“You’re going to tell me Josh sent it, and I’m going to tell you you’re nuts.”
Crystal shrugged. “Try to be objective. I can’t say for sure that Josh sent it. But it did originate from his computer. That, we can prove beyond any reasonable doubt.”
“So what are you trying to tell me?”
“Just this. Right now, Josh Bennett is our prime suspect.”
* * *
Monday, April 7, Year Three, 5:00 P.M.
Valkerie
Valkerie loaded another tiny sample onto the high-pressure liquid chromatograph. At this rate, they’d be out of oxygen before she got the drug synthesized. The mission design team obviously hadn’t expected the crew to do any organic synthesis. Whoever heard of trying to do preparative work on an analytical instrument? It was crazy.
“So what do I do if their pulse rates fall below that level?” Bob’s voice sounded less than a foot behind Valkerie’s head.
Valkerie stifled a growl. The Mr. Nice Guy routine was really getting old. Bob had been hovering around her all day, feeding her one question after another about the drug she was synthesizing.
“Bob, look ... you don’t have to do this. I’m already planning to vote for you. I don’t trust Kennedy as far as I can throw him.” Valkerie glanced over at Kennedy, who was sleeping upside down on the laboratory wall. “In Earth gravity, I mean.”
“Just trying to prepare myself.” Bob floated to Valkerie’s side. “If I run out of the drugs, I need to be able to do the synthesis myself.”
“Good luck. I used up all our starting materials. If it’s not enough, we’re in big trouble.” Valkerie pointed to a flask of liquid rotating under vacuum. “See this flask? It’s the sodium pentothal precursor. Do you know how easy it would have been for me to flush this into our water system? I could break the flask right now, and you wouldn’t be able to stop me. Know why I don’t?”
“Because you need it to look like an accident? Because you’re too softhearted to face the people you’re trying to kill? Because you’d rather do it with the poison you’re—”
“Bob! Stop it! I know you don’t believe that. You can’t. Look me in the eye and tell me you think I’m a killer. Seriously. Look me in the eye.” Valkerie stared defiantly up at Bob. He looked back at her, then diverted his gaze. He swallowed and opened his mouth but didn’t say anything.
“You can’t, can you? Want to know why? Because you don’t think it’s true.”
“No.” Bob scowled. “I’ll admit that I don’t know that it’s true, but it could be. Don’t you see? The whole notion that someone could have sabotaged our ship is mind-bogglingly crazy. But it’s a fact—no matter how unlikely it may have seemed before it happened. Of course I can’t believe you did it. I can’t believe that anybody would do such a thing. But that doesn’t change the fact that it happened.”
“But what if nobody did it? What if it was just a bizarre, low-probability accident?”
“You mean like the origin of life on Earth?”
Valkerie rolled her eyes. Bob was nothing if not persistent. “An accident—like using feet instead of meters.”
“Okay, an accident—that just happened to involve a bomb that just happened to be placed at just the right spot to cripple sixteen different systems—”
“Most of which weren’t critical.”
“—that were just critical enough to guarantee a slow prolonged death and two or three weeks of media-grabbing publicity. That’s what the saboteur would want, right? To scare the public so bad, they’ll never send another mission to Mars. To drag it out as long as possible—”
“If it were me, why would I suggest the coma? Why didn’t I just leave you out there to freeze in space?”
“Two or three weeks of media-grabbing publicity.”
“But I was the one who fixed the hull breach. I was the one who rescued Lex.”
“Two or three weeks of—”
“Stop it!” Valkerie snapped. “Was I the one hogging the camera during the press conference we did last week? Was I the one giving everybody a tour of our toilet? Kennedy’s the camera hog. Not me. He’s the one who pushed for that press conference. Don’t forget, he’s the one who bullied, lied, and cheated to get us to leave Earth in a crippled ship.”
Bob held up a hand. “I don’t trust Kennedy either. Does that make you feel any better? I can’t afford to trust him.”
Valkerie considered Bob’s words. He didn’t know how to trust people. That was his problem. But why? “Something happened to you, didn’t it? Something in your past that makes it hard for you to trust people.”
Bob’s neck flushed. “Right, I’m fighting for my life, and you’re trying to psychoanalyze some hidden trauma. How about the fact that my life depends on it? Isn’t that reason enough?”
“But you should at least be willing to consider the facts—”
“I didn’t plant that bomb and that means someone else did. Until I find out who that person is, I can’t afford to trust anyone.”
“I didn’t do it either, but I’m willing to trust you. Why can’t you trust me?”
“See? Another reason not to trust you.”
“What?”
“The only way you could know for sure that I’m not guilty is if you were guilty.”
“Not necessarily. I’m just a good judge of character. I know you didn’t do it. I can see right through that titanium-reinforced aluminum shell of yours. Underneath, I see the generous, warm, loving heart of a good man. Deny it if you want, but I know it’s there.”
Color rose to Bob’s face. “Why would I want to deny that?”
Valkerie reached toward Bob and rested her hand softly on his forearm. “I don’t know. I wish you would tell me.”
Bob went rigid. His jaw muscles clenched and unclenched, and the tendons stood out on his neck. He turned suddenly and made for the door.
“Bob?”
He disappeared up the stairwell. She made a move to go after him, but then stopped. What could she say that she hadn’t already?
“Don’t worry, I’ll get him,” Kennedy said.
Valkerie jumped. How long had he been awake?
Kennedy peeled back the Velcro-fastened meshwork of the bunk. “I must say I’m surprised. Not so much at your tactics, but that Bob actually turned you down. Interesting.”
Valkerie started to protest, but stopped. Why bother? He was going to vote for her anyway. Hmmm ... if he switched his vote to Bob, then Bob would win, and she wouldn’t have to worry. What if she tried to convince Kennedy that she was the saboteur? She could force him to vote for Bob.
“Kennedy?”
He regarded her with a wary expression.
No, it was too risky. They’d all choose Kennedy, if they thought she was the saboteur. “I’ll go get Bob.”
“Oh no you don’t. It’s your turn to sleep.” Kenne
dy moved toward Valkerie menacingly.
Valkerie shrank back from him. “But I’m not tired. I have to finish the synthesis.”
“And deprive me of my chance at rebuttal? Not on your life. Come over here and lie down. And don’t try anything funny while I’m gone either. I’ll be listening.”
“I thought you trusted me.” Valkerie circled around Kennedy and started to squirm into the sack.
“What gave you that idea?” Kennedy floated above her with a sneer.
“Well, for one thing, you voted for me to stay awake.”
Kennedy laughed and turned to leave the lab. “I voted for myself. You’re just too dumb to realize it yet.”
* * *
Monday, April 7, Year Three, 5:15 P.M.
Bob
Bob felt his pulse pounding in his temples. How dare Valkerie try to tell him what was wrong with him? That was some kind of gall, trying to tell him he had a problem with trust, when she was the one with the death wish. Probably. And of course she could trust him. Why shouldn’t she? He hadn’t done anything except ... blow up the ship.
He pounded the wall. That explosion wasn’t his fault. It was a freak thing. Bad luck to have the multimeter on the wrong setting. Bad luck to have the detonator wires so close to the power cables. Bad luck that any of those wires had been exposed in the first place.
So if it was all bad luck, what was the original plan? That just flat out didn’t make sense. When had the saboteur intended the bomb to go off? On the landing? Boy, wouldn’t they have gotten some great TV coverage then?
He shook his head, trying to clear the swirl of thoughts. You’d never get anywhere trying to figure out the rationale of an irrational person.
“Kaggo, you okay?” Kennedy said.
Bob turned. “Hey, Hampster. Yeah, I’m fine. Tired of watching little Miss Righteousness like a hawk to make sure she doesn’t accidentally synthesize a dose of arsenic to put us out for good.”
“She was putting the moves on you pretty slick there,” Kennedy said.
Bob felt his ears burning. “What moves?”
Kennedy grinned. “You don’t know much about women, do you?”
I know a whale of a lot more than I’m going to tell you. Bob cleared his throat. “What are you trying to tell me?”
“Just thinking that you could catch more flies with honey than vinegar.”
“I’m not interested in catching flies.”
Kennedy raised an eyebrow. “And she just happens to have birth-control pills packed away in her personal kit. Now why do you suppose that is?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Bob said. “But I’m still trying to figure out why you’d vote for her. You don’t trust me, do you?”
Kennedy shrugged. “I trust you a lot more than I trust her. But I trust me more. Sorry, nothing personal, but you were the guy who set off the bomb.”
“It was an accident!” Bob said.
“And Valkerie was nowhere near it.”
“Somebody put it there. Bombs don’t just appear by chance.”
Kennedy gave him a devilish smile.
“So you really think I put the bomb there?”
“I have no idea who made that bomb. But you set it off, Kaggo, and you did it after we told you not to touch those wires. Valkerie saved Lex and patched the ship. Can you honestly expect me to vote for you after that? I’d have to be crazy.”
“So you’re telling me we have a stalemate?” Bob said. “Because there’s no way I’m going to vote for Valkerie. Ever.”
“Maybe you could persuade her to vote for me,” Kennedy said. “She seems to trust you.”
For whatever reason, she doesn’t trust you. Bob studied Kennedy. “I don’t think she’ll listen to me.”
“So we’ll deadlock,” Kennedy said.
“Which means Nate has the tie breaker.”
“Nate’s not going to vote for you,” Kennedy said. “You know that, right? He can’t. For the same reason I can’t. You set off the bomb.”
Does everybody have to keep reminding me? Bob swallowed. “Okay, fine. Nate’s not going to vote for me. So what’s your point?”
“My point is that Nate has two real choices—me or Valkerie. Josh is going to have a voice in the decision too. And I get the impression he favors her.”
“Did you see how he signed his notes to her?” Bob said. “‘Love, Josh.’ Can you believe that?”
“On the other hand, Josh is a rational guy. He knows I’m the best pilot in the known universe—except for him, of course. I’m the best person to do the docking with the ERV. That means I should be the one who stays awake.”
“I think I need to talk to him. He might be interested in hearing about an old college buddy of Valkerie’s,” Bob said. “Is he on Capcom shift right now?”
“He’s around, even if he’s not on shift,” Kennedy said. “The guy’s been a maniac down there. He already came up with the lifeboat idea. If there’s any way to save our cookies, Josh’ll find it.” He pushed off from the wall and headed for the bathroom. “Gotta take a pit stop.”
Bob grabbed the mike and keyed it. “Houston, this is Ares 10, Bob speaking, with a personal message for Josh Bennett. Over.”
Minutes ticked by. The delay was getting on Bob’s nerves. We’re lost in space.
“Ares 10, this is Josh. Man, what a coincidence! I was just coming online to give you some news. Let me go first with the news, and then I’ll wait for you. Nate wanted me to give this to you right away. The mystery man on Lex’s e-mail is a guy named Ronald J. Anderson, a U.S. Air Force officer.” Josh went on for about two minutes, giving details about Anderson.
Bob didn’t really see the significance. Okay, fine, so Lex had a boyfriend. She could have one in every hamlet in the country, for all Bob cared. The only mystery was why she was keeping him a mystery.
When Josh finished, Bob took the mike. “Thanks for that info, Josh.” I don’t see the point, but thanks. He hesitated a minute. He had to phrase this in such a way that it didn’t look like he was trying to influence Josh. “The reason I called was to ask your advice on something. You know we’re going to be voting soon on who should stay awake while we’re in a coma. For a lot of reasons, I’m not going to win that vote. No problem with that—I’d hate to be alone for that long anyway. Now my question is this. Can you get me the scores on docking maneuvers for both Valkerie and Kennedy? The reason I ask is because whoever stays awake is going to have to dock with that ERV, and I kind of want us to be in good hands, you know what I mean? Anyway, if you can get me that info, I’d be much obliged. Also, I have a request of a more personal nature. Strictly between you and me, okay? Valkerie mentioned dating a guy from Yale. Sidney Nichols. Could you do a little research on him? I need to know right away. It’s important. Over.”
Bob set the mike aside, feeling like an idiot, the way he usually did when he talked to voice mail. He usually just blabbed and blabbed until he ran out of steam.
“Hello, Bob, funny you should ask about docking scores. I just checked over those this morning,” Josh said. “Kennedy and Lex both have ratings of one hundred on docking maneuvers. Valkerie is at ninety-eight. And you are ... pretty low. Seventy-one, I think. But don’t worry about those scores. Frankly, the computer’s going to do the docking just fine ninety-nine times out of a hundred anyway. There’s not a dime’s worth of difference between Kennedy and Valkerie on that. You should be making your decision based on other criteria. You need to evaluate their mental states. That’s probably the most important thing. Who’s least likely to crack up if they’re alone for five or six weeks? As for the other question, I’ll get on it right away. I knew you two were going to hit it off. Any other questions? Over.”
Bob closed his eyes. He’d missed with the first pitch. The second had better be a strike. He keyed the mike. “Houston, this is Ares 10. Thanks for that input. Let me know on the second question as soon as you can. That’s a big help in making my decision. Over and out.”
>
Kennedy was nowhere in sight, but the In Use indicator was still showing on the handle of the bathroom door. Bob pushed off and floated down the stairwell and into the lab.
Valkerie was strapped onto the wall in her SRU. Bob floated over and studied her intently. Was she really asleep? Her chest rose and fell slowly. You could only just hear her breathing. A dull ache settled in Bob’s gut. He wished Kennedy would quit the suggestive remarks about Valkerie. Sure, she was a nice-looking woman. But what was killing Bob was the way she seemed to read his heart, his thoughts, his past. Like Sarah. Valkerie could see through the tough shell he put up. And she didn’t reject him. She even seemed to like him. Sort of.
If only ...
Something hot welled up in Bob’s eyes. He brushed at them madly. Never mind the what-ifs. The reality was that Valkerie might have put a bomb on this ship. Probably put it there. It was the only logical possibility.
And he couldn’t afford to let her finish the job.
Bob checked Valkerie’s eyes again, then gently pushed off toward the medical bay. He silently opened the drawer. There. He grabbed a syringe, eased it into one of the long pockets on his leg, and Velcroed it shut.
As he closed the drawer, he heard a noise in the stairwell.
“Misfire.” Kennedy floated into the lab, looking irritated. “My guts are playing games with me again. Did you get hold of Josh?”
Bob nodded. “Yeah, he was in. I kind of felt him out on all that stuff we talked about.”
“And?” Kennedy narrowed his eyes.
“Don’t worry,” Bob said. “It’s taken care of.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Monday, April 7, Year Three, 11:00 P.M.
Nate
NATE HADN’T BEEN IN HIS own office in days. Now he had a good reason to be there. He had to confront Josh Bennett about that stolen blueprint. And he needed privacy to do that. He drummed his fingers on his desk. Where was Josh?
“Nervous?” Perez said.
“I can’t believe he’d do such a thing.” Nate shook his head. “Josh’s father was an engineer here during the Apollo years. Josh grew up eating, drinking, and breathing the space program. He loves NASA. He couldn’t—”