by John Olson
Kennedy knew he was sick. He could have gotten help, but it would have meant losing Mars. And that would have played right into his delusion. The shrinks are out to get me by taking me off the mission. Kennedy was sick and his sickness forced him to cover up, because admitting he was sick was the one thing his sickness wouldn’t let him do.
Catch‑22, Hampster.
The edges of Perez’s face began blurring. Josh blinked twice, then gave up the battle. He reached into Cathe’s purse and yanked out a tissue and let the tears roll. Yeah, Hampster, I can forgive even a weasel like you. If I’d been you, I might have done the same.
“ ... remember the heroic part Commander Hampton played in this mission, not forgetting his faults, but bearing in mind that all of us are human and all of us have fallen short. Kennedy Hampton, we salute you.” Perez turned and began the slow trek to his chair.
And apparently that was it. Josh looked at the final line of his program. Steven Perez: A Retrospective. Yeah. All done.
A slow buzz built up in Teague Auditorium. People standing up, talking in whispers, their faces somber. It was a tough night for NASA when an astronaut died. Even a weasel.
Josh just sat quietly in his chair, trying to absorb it.
“You okay?” Cathe said.
“Yeah. Sort of. It’s hard.”
Nate pushed his way through the crowd. “Hey, Josh? Perez and I need to talk to you up in my office. Right now.”
Josh turned to Cathe. “Wait for me in your office? I’ll call you when I’m done.”
She nodded. “See ya.”
Josh stood up and nodded to Nate. “Shall we wait for Steven?”
“He’ll catch up,” Nate said.
Which was an odd thing to say, but you didn’t argue with Nate. Josh walked outside with Nate and over to Building 1. CNN had a camera crew parked outside. Josh ignored their shouted questions. Inside, he and Nate walked past the security guard to the elevators. Nate wasn’t talking and Josh had no heart for conversation tonight.
When they reached the office, Nate fished out his keys and unlocked the door. They walked in past the desk where Nate’s secretary normally sat. A spine‑busted copy of Bactamination lay facedown on her chair. Nate unlocked the inner door and they went in.
Josh sat down in a chair. Nate stood silently looking out the window. They waited.
Someone knocked at the outer door. Nate didn’t move, so Josh went to get it. “Hi, Dr. Perez, and ...” He knew the face of the other man but couldn’t remember his name.
“This is Daniel Collins, Josh. Head of Security.”
Collins nodded at him stiffly but didn’t offer a handshake. Josh led them back into Nate’s office. Perez and Josh sat. Collins shut the door and stood in front of it.
Nate turned around, his face dark, brooding. He sat down in his leather chair. Riffled through a sheaf of papers. Looked up at Josh. “Ever been to Star City, Josh?”
Josh stared at him, baffled. “Well, of course. I went there a couple years ago to check in on Jake Hunter before he did his tour on the ISS. Even got to visit Baikonur for the launch.”
Nate nodded. “And you remember that sim machine they had for the Americans?”
“Well, it was in use most of the time, but yeah. I even played on it a couple of times. Sweet little cluster. Thirty‑two CPUs.”
“Ever do any sys‑admin work on it?”
“Me?” Josh laughed. “I’m the wrong guy for that. I’m not exactly a Unix geek—the surgery always scared me.”
Nate’s eyes narrowed. “But you have an account on that machine.”
“Had one. They must have deleted it when I left. I could even tell you the password. It’s the same one I use on my machine here.”
“Have you accessed it lately?”
Josh frowned. “Mind telling me what this is all about?”
“Just answer the question. Have you accessed that machine lately?”
Josh held up his hands. “Hey, I don’t even know how to access that machine from here. Is it linked to the Internet?”
“Of course not. But there’s a back‑channel satellite linkup to MCC. Very fast. Very secure. And with a lot of event logging.”
“And for some reason, you think I’ve been playing flight‑sims in Russia?” Josh gave a short laugh. “I haven’t got time for that.”
“We’ve been in touch with the Russian Space Agency about some unexplained packets that originated on that computer. Somebody used it as a cutout to break into the computers at Goldstone and place those unauthorized commands on the event queue for the ERV.”
“Whoa, slow down,” Josh said. “Cutout? What’s a cutout?”
“It’s a drone computer,” Collins said. “A hacker breaks into it and works remotely from there to hack another machine. Then when the security people come looking, all they find are tracks leading back to the drone.”
Josh looked at his watch. “It’s getting late and I’m missing something here—like what does all this have to do with me?”
Collins sighed. “Your account, Mr. Bennett. Somebody used your account to hack the Goldstone computers.”
A rush of fear. “Those idiots! Why’d they leave my account up on that box? That’s some kind of security lapse.”
“There’s more,” Nate said.
Josh looked up, suddenly aware of how loud your blood can sound when it’s gushing through the arteries right next to your ears.
“The Russians had a lot of event logging on that box,” Collins said. “So it wasn’t hard to trace it back to the Ethernet address of the source machine.”
Josh’s mouth fell open. “You’re probably going to tell me it was from my computer here at NASA.”
“You’re a good guesser, Josh.” Nate leaned back in his chair, looking really old.
Josh just shook his head, wondering how lightning could fry him twice in one lifetime. “Nate. Look me in the eye, okay? I don’t know who did this, but it wasn’t me. All right? This isn’t the first time somebody’s hacked my computer. Obviously, Kennedy didn’t do it this time. So let’s figure out who did. I’ll help you—”
“It’s not that simple, Mr. Bennett.” Collins frowned at him severely. “You’ve already admitted to doing something that grossly endangered the lives of the—”
“That’s different!” Josh stood up. “I—”
Nate sighed. “The thing is, Josh, it’s obvious you didn’t do this. First off, you’re computer‑incompetent.”
Josh opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it.
“Second, you’re the guy least likely to try to strand our crew on Mars,” Nate said. “You’re the one most vocally in favor of bringing them home.”
“Could be a cover,” Collins said.
Nate shook his head. “Right, it could be a cover, but I know Josh. It isn’t.”
Collins’ face hardened. “He deceived you, and me, and the rest of the world for almost a year, Mr. Harrington. Almost a year. I submit that he’s capable of anything.”
Nate tapped his fingers on his desk. “Josh, that’s not true, is it? You’re not capable of this, are you? Give me some evidence to back me up, okay?”
Josh hesitated. The problem was, he could have figured out a way to do the hack. It wouldn’t have been easy. But if he didn’t know where the bodies were buried, who did? If he’d wanted to plant those commands on the Deep Space Network, he could have. Probably.
Collins cleared his throat. “Mr. Bennett, where were you yesterday at 12:45 p.m.?”
“I was ...” Josh tried to remember. He’d gone to the cafeteria but bailed when he couldn’t find Cathe. That must have been about 12:30. Then he had wandered over to the duck ponds and sat by himself for half an hour.
“I was alone.”
“In your office?” Collins said.
“No, just ... outside. By the duck ponds.”
“Anybody see you?”
Josh tried to remember. There must have been somebody who’d seen him. B
ut he hadn’t been paying attention.
“Simple question, Mr. Bennett. Anybody see you?”
“Maybe. Probably.” Josh looked up at Collins. “I don’t know. I was sitting down on a bench. Thinking.”
“You do that very often?”
Josh saw where this was going, but there was nothing to do but tell the truth. “Just yesterday.” Josh looked at Nate in time to see the last gleam of hope flicker out of his eyes.
Perez sighed. “Josh, you do understand this doesn’t look good.”
Josh leaned forward. “Sir—”
“There’s an alternative to going to jail,” Nate said.
“Jail?” All of a sudden Josh was sweating buckets.
“It might come to that in the end,” Perez said, “but we’d like to forestall that possibility as long as possible. Fortunately, we have another option—a way we can protect you during the investigation.”
“I guess you heard about the simulation we’re running over in the Mars analog Hab in Building 29,” Nate said.
“The rapid‑growth edible plant experiments?” Josh nodded. “Yeah, but we should have started running those months ago.”
“Late is better than never,” Nate said. “We’ve got two women lined up to stay in there full time. We need a male volunteer. You know, to provide the ... right balance for the soil.”
That had to be the lamest excuse JSC had ever come up with. “So you want me to be the volunteer.”
“We’re offering you a chance to volunteer,” Nate said. “We’ve got over four hundred applicants.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Look, Josh, it’s just until we can find some evidence to get you off the hook,” Nate said. “We’ve got the FBI monitoring all our computer systems. Whoever tried this is going to try again sooner or later. And we’re going to catch them.”
“What if I don’t want to volunteer? My crew needs me.”
Perez coughed. “Josh, it’s for your protection.”
“I don’t want the protection.”
“Mr. Bennett, whether you want the protection or not, you are going to receive it,” Collins said. “You will be isolated from the rest of the world—no cell phone, no e‑mail, and no unauthorized visitors. An armed guard will be posted outside with authority to arrest you should you attempt to leave.”
Josh didn’t say anything. Next time he wanted to buy a car, he was going to take these three campers to do the negotiating.
“The problem is ...” Nate looked unhappy. “There’s that little confession you made to me and Dr. Perez. It makes you a very plausible suspect right now, Josh. It’s ridiculous, and I don’t like it, but you can see the position I’m in.”
Josh glared at him. “Do you believe there’s any kind of remote possibility that I did it?”
Nate met his gaze for a few seconds, then turned to pick up the phone. He punched in a number. “Leroy, we’ll be ready to start your sim in a few minutes. We’ve nailed down the last volunteer.” A pause. “Okay, see you in five.” He sighed and set the phone gently on the cradle. “I’m sorry, Josh. Let’s hope they find the real hacker soon.”
Oh right, the real hacker. Josh blinked hard, fighting back ... whatever. Nate thought he was innocent.
As innocent as O.J.
* * *
Friday, April 10, 2:00 p.m., CST
Josh
Josh lay on the cot in his private quarters. The place was worse than prison. At times the two agonizing weeks he had spent in this place seemed more than he could bear. The two women assigned to work with him in this experiment were nice enough. But they had clearly heard the rumors about him, and believed them. Josh felt like a pariah.
Everybody thought he had done it! Unbelievable! Even Nate thought he was guilty. These idiots thought he’d somehow hacked in and queued up those commands that would have sentenced his crew to life on Mars. To death on Mars. They thought he’d do something to endanger his—
Josh clenched his fists. They were right. He already had done something to endanger his crew, as they knew full well. He had bombed his own crew. It was an accident, but he’d almost killed them. Was he ever going to get over that? Valkerie had forgiven him. And probably Bob. He hoped Lex had. Kennedy—that was a different story. Kennedy had been competing with him ever since they’d been named to the crew. Had tried to outdo him in everything—outpilot him, out‑train him, outwomanize him. In the end, he had outcheated him—knocked him off the crew.
Josh covered his face with his hands. He’d blown it. The explosive should have been safe, should have never gone off until after aeroentry, should have ...
Never mind. Should‑haves didn’t count. He had no right to do what he’d done. It was wrong. One big lie after another.
And it hadn’t even been needed. His crew had found evidence of life without any help. Now somebody was out to get them. Somebody bad. Somebody willing to sentence them to life without parole on Mars.
Because he had gummed things up, he was out of the loop—powerless to help them when they needed him most. For that, he ought to be taken out and shot. Josh had never hated anyone like he hated himself right now. If they died because of him—
Voices in the stairwell.
Josh looked at his watch. 2:00 p.m. Too early for dinner. Maybe it was one of the soil scientists from—
“Josh!” Cathe Willison burst through the door.
A flood of emotions shot through Josh. Astonishment. Guilt. Relief. Fear.
Joy.
Josh catapulted himself off his cot and caught her up in his arms, spinning her around and around. “Cathe!” He set her down and looked into her eyes, feasting on her smile. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”
“That’s Dr. Willison to you.” Cathe stepped back and he noticed that she was wearing a white lab coat. A stethoscope hung draped around her neck. “Complete with signed authorization from Nate Harrington.” She held up a sheet of paper with Nate’s handwriting scribbled across it.
“Nate sent you?”
“Read it.”
Josh took the paper and struggled to make out the words. Jake Hunter ... Washington ... Senate subcom ...
“It’s hard to read. Either it’s authorization for me to visit you—or it’s an itinerary for a trip Jake Hunter is taking.” Her face lit up with a wicked smile. “I found it on the floor next to Jake’s desk. I’m sure he meant to give it to me.”
Josh shook his head in amazement. He didn’t deserve her. He leaned in close, brushing her lips with his. A fire, deep within him, roared to life. He pulled her in closer, cupping her upturned face in his hands.
Cathe pushed him away. “Josh, no,” she said breathlessly. “I only have a few minutes. We’ve got to figure out how to clear your name so we can get you out of here.”
Josh stepped toward her. He didn’t care about that. Didn’t care about anything but her.
“Josh, they’re saying awful things about you in the FCR. Some people actually believe you did it—maybe even Jake Hunter.”
“So?” He took Cathe by the hand and pressed it to his lips.
“He’s been coordinating the investigation with the FBI.” Cathe pulled her hand away. “He’s practically in charge.”
“How’s the Mars crew?”
“Okay for the moment. They’re saying there may be a lull in the storm in the next week or so. Nate’s already announced that as soon as the storm dies down enough, they’re getting off the planet.”
“Will they have enough food to last that long?”
“If they get lucky, it might even happen in the next couple of days. And according to the crew, they’ve got food for several weeks.”
Josh raised his eyebrows. “What does that mean—according to the crew?”
“There’s some speculation they’re making the whole thing up.” Cathe looked up at Josh with worried eyes. “I’m hearing a lot of rumors.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Well, we know they’re not
being straight about some things,” Cathe said. “You and I know they don’t have the Antarctica flu. It had to come from Mars.”
“Maybe. But that’s crazy too. Life on Mars couldn’t infect humans.”
“It could if it originally came from Earth on meteorite ejecta.”
“That’s such a long shot.”
“Everything’s a long shot. Josh, I think you should talk to Nate. Tell him what you know. It’s always better to tell the truth. Always.”
“You could tell him. If it’s important, you should.”
“Josh, I’d never do anything to hurt you. You should tell him yourself. It’s the right thing to do.”
“I’ll tell him when they’re off the planet.”
Cathe’s eyes glittered. “Josh, I can’t make you do what’s right, but ... I wish you would.”
“I need to do what’s right for my crew.” Josh slumped down on his cot. “And right now I can’t do anything. I’m stuck here. Somebody set me up. Unless Jake Hunter figures out who framed me, I’m going to be here a long time.”
Cathe didn’t say anything, but her mouth tightened.
“Do you know something I don’t know?”
Concern filled her eyes. “If you go to jail, I’m just wondering who might get promoted to Flight Director.”
“Cathe, that is ridiculous. Jake wouldn’t frame me.”
“No, of course not. I’m just saying ... what if he doesn’t try too hard to find out who did?”
Josh closed his eyes. Would Jake do that? Of course not. Jake was a good guy. But Kennedy used to be a good guy too, and he had set up Josh for a big fall. “We’ve got to figure it out ourselves.”
“Way ahead of you,” Cathe said. “I brought some paper. We’re going to brainstorm right now. I can be your eyes and ears on the outside. Now, think outside the box. Who hates you?”
Josh pointed to a chair. “Have a seat.”
Cathe sat down next to him. Close enough that Josh’s mind went blank. “I have a theory that it’s the Russians.”
Josh raised an eyebrow.