T-Minus Two

by K. G. MacGregor

  “They were probably looking for Photoshop,” Mila explained. “That’s what most people use. This one was done with something called Bulwark. It’s architecture software. They use it to add details to their computer renderings, like furniture and landscaping. It automatically sizes everything…makes it look seamless. My friend Vio—she’s an architect—I sent her the picture and she opened it in Bulwark. Look what happens.”

  She played a video clip from their Skype chat with Vio describing the process as she demonstrated on a second laptop. “Notice how I move my cursor all over the photo and it’s an arrow. But when I get to your head, it turns into a hand. That tells me I can grab it.” A halo of red dirt that blended into the background encircled her head as she dragged it to the side, revealing a helmet underneath.

  “I’ll be damned,” Grace mumbled. “You had your helmet on the whole time.”

  Jancey pounded the desk with anger. “It has to be Jean-Paul. He’s the architect.”

  “That’s what I thought too until I saw this.”

  Vio continued with her demonstration. “Then I noticed I got another hand when I passed over the name tag. I was able to blow up what was underneath. I’m sending you a screen grab.”

  Mila stopped the video and clicked on an icon on her desktop. The close-up photo of the tape was clear—L FAGAN. “It wasn’t even me. You remember when they gave me her flight suit by mistake? That’s because we’re exactly the same size.”

  Grace started for the door. “I’ll get my car keys. We need to show this to Charles right away.”

  Jancey’s hand on Mila’s shoulder kept her from rising. “My god, Mila. Do you know what this means?”

  She wanted to scream with joy but didn’t dare. “I’m trying not to get my hopes up. There aren’t any guarantees Sir Charles will make this right.”

  “Don’t be so sure. Something tells me Grace won’t take no for an answer this time.” Jancey planted a kiss atop her head. “I’m so sorry. I should have believed in you.”

  “You don’t have to be sorry. I didn’t believe in myself either. I should have been able to say for sure it wasn’t real, and I couldn’t do that. I got caught not paying attention to details.”

  “So did I. But we learned a lesson about looking out for each other. That’s something I won’t ever forget. And I won’t let you forget it either.”

  * * *

  “I’m telling you, something weird’s going on,” Jerry said. “Are y’all sure we haven’t landed on Mars already?”

  Jancey had a gut feeling about why Jerry and Wade were included in the group of finalists who’d been invited to the private meeting at Grace’s house. Also present were Marlon, the Hatsus, David and Kamal. Changes were in the offing for the Tenacity Project, changes in the launch schedule and expedition teams. At least that’s what she hoped. Her fear was they would scrap the results altogether and restart the selection process from the beginning.

  The whole project had come to a grinding halt for the last three days while the selection committee huddled with lawyers and public relations consultants to discuss the fallout from their investigation. Grace had been feeding them tidbits. No details yet, but she confirmed they were in serious damage-control mode, and Sir Charles wanted everything fixed before reporting anything to the board of directors.

  Konani had set out a tray on the veranda with drinks and snacks, but Jancey was too anxious to eat. Wade, on the other hand, was ravenous. His bout with E. coli had left him down more than twenty pounds. Though his infection had been physically devastating, he was relieved to have his dormant renal condition now under medical control. A blessing in disguise, the doctors called it.

  Duke and Sasha suddenly ran to the front door barking.

  “They’re here,” Mila announced as she peered through the shutters at the driveway. “Grace and Sir Charles.”

  Jancey and the others scurried to seats on the veranda, all trying to appear calmer than they were.

  Grace and Sir Charles joined them, the latter leaning on his cane and looking a decade older than his seventy-five years. He removed a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and mopped his brow. An uncharacteristic sweat for a man who usually was composed.

  “Thank you all for meeting here,” he began. “And thank you, Grace, for the offer of your home. We find ourselves in need of privacy. Utmost privacy.”

  Under the circumstances, Jancey couldn’t blame them for wanting to keep the scandal confidential. The Tenacity Project didn’t need controversy, certainly not the sort that would cause potential investors to question the board’s oversight.

  Marlon spoke up. “I believe I speak for everyone when I say you can count on our cooperation.”

  Heads nodded all around.

  Sir Charles visibly relaxed and seated himself in the chair Fujio Hatsu had offered. “I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to sit down at a meeting that isn’t hostile. The events of the last several days have shaken my faith somewhat in human nature, but I am confident we have at last assembled a crew of which we can be proud. You are that crew.”

  Just as Jancey had suspected.

  “I’m going to let Ms. Faraday walk you through what we discovered in our recent investigation.”

  Jancey was still in shock over what had transpired, unable to reconcile how a NASA colleague—a woman who’d worked inside an honorable culture where they always supported one another in pursuit of the mission—could stoop so low as to cheat another astronaut out of the opportunity to fly. It just wasn’t done. Clearly, she’d put too much stock into Libby’s supposed professionalism and too little into her resentment about being passed over for Guardian. That jealousy had festered for a very long time.

  Grace accepted the offer of Marlon’s chair while he stood off to the side. “As you all know, Jancey and Mila finished first in the competition and were awarded the distinction of the first launch. The next morning, however, the committee received a photo from Brandon Fagan showing Mila outside the habitat on Mauna Kea without her helmet, a clear violation of the rules. He indicated to us when he submitted the photo that he had concerns—concerns he maintains were shared by others—that Jancey and Mila were always favored to win because of Jancey’s friendship with me. Within his message was the implication he and others would go public with charges of favoritism if Jancey and Mila were not completely disqualified from the program for breaking the rules.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Mila said under her breath.

  “We were not aware of any such grievances among other candidates, and in fact are not convinced they exist outside of the persons involved in this incident.”

  The revelation made Jancey sick to her stomach. Professionals didn’t grumble about petty gripes, real or perceived. They focused on the mission and waited for their call. How many of the people sitting around her right now had groused privately about her having the inside track? How many had assumed their win was unearned, that she and Mila couldn’t possibly have performed better than the others? She wanted to know…no, she didn’t. Screw them. She had one job—getting ready for Mars.

  Sir Charles was speaking again. “I want to make perfectly clear the allegation of favoritism is baseless. In fact, it’s fair to say the committee subjected Major Beaumont and Ms. Todorov to even more scrutiny in order to overcome that perceived bias. Anyone who doubts that is invited to examine our selection data. I assure you, you’ll come to the same conclusions as we did. They exceeded all of our performance expectations, and used far fewer resources than any other team.”

  “That is irrefutable,” Grace added. “The Fagans’ accusations began to unravel when it was discovered the photo in question was manipulated using a software commonly used by architects. That led us to question Jean-Paul Robillard. When confronted with the evidence, the Fagans and Jean-Paul implicated one another in what was a conspiracy to have not only Jancey and Mila but several other colleagues disqualified.”

  “In other words, they cheated,” Jerry sn
arled, giving voice to what all of them were thinking.

  “We have secured their resignations,” Grace said as a chorus of angry voices rose in protest. “And we’re confident there are no other conspirators involved. However, several questions remain…questions only you can answer. That’s why we wanted to meet with you privately. I’ll let Sir Charles explain.”

  “First, let me say there is no evidence whatsoever that Ms. Todorov broke the rules going outside without her equipment, so she and Major Beaumont will be reinserted into the launch schedule.”

  Jancey cast a quick glance at Mila, who gave her a thumbs-up, but Sir Charles’s choice of words made her uneasy. Reinserted into the schedule? Why hadn’t he mentioned their place in the order?

  “With Mr. Robillard leaving the program, the board made the decision to team Colonel Quinn with Major Huffstetler.”

  “Outstanding!” Jerry said, stretching to shake Marlon’s hand.

  “I was trying to figure out why you were here, bro.”

  “Now you know. They’re sending me to Mars with you to make sure you don’t get lost.”

  “One thing I forgot to mention,” Grace interjected, “Jean-Paul also admitted to stealing solar panels from the Hatsus and from Jancey and Mila. They were discovered yesterday afternoon buried near his habitat.”

  Another mystery explained.

  “And in the course of our interviews,” Sir Charles said, “Mrs. Fagan became exasperated with her husband. She expressed strong regrets about her role, and also a willingness to provide more information…including some that involved potentially criminal behavior involving the electrical box in the submersible that mysteriously caught fire. The attorneys who were present advised her at that point not to elaborate.”

  Mila abruptly sat up straight, her jaw dropping. “They could have killed us!”

  Jancey vividly recalled her feelings that day. Concern for Mila and Andi’s safety, and pride in the way they handled themselves under pressure. The idea that the Fagans had caused a near-fatal catastrophe by tampering with the box filled her with rage.

  Sir Charles thumped his cane loudly on the tile floor to quiet the outcry. “That’s precisely why we’re having this meeting—to discuss how to proceed. The police department’s investigation of the fire was inconclusive. Our attorneys have advised it will be very difficult to prove culpability without a confession, which we did not receive. Similarly, we have reason to believe the Fagans grew E. coli bacteria in their habitat and used it to contaminate four water tanks, including their own so as not to raise suspicions.”

  “Whoa!” It was Wade who was riled this time. “Are you saying someone deliberately poisoned our water? You can kill somebody like that.”

  Kamal and David reacted angrily as well, though they’d been able to return to Mauna Kea shortly after receiving treatment.

  “Brass necks, the lot of them,” Sir Charles said. “If any of you wish to pursue criminal or civil charges, the Tenacity Project will support that decision and assist in your investigation. There is, however, an alternative the committee would ask you to consider.”

  “As long as there’s accountability,” Jancey said. “They don’t get to walk away and point fingers back at us.”

  “Yes, the committee found that possibility quite troubling as well. We proposed an accord that requires them to withdraw from Tenacity, stating personal reasons, and to refrain from pursuing future employment in the aerospace industry. It isn’t Jersey justice, but it guarantees our paths shall not cross again. All three of them accepted those terms in order to avoid public humiliation and criminal charges.”

  They were smart to accept it, Jancey thought, considering the difficulty they’d have had getting jobs in the first place if their employers found out they were scumbags.

  Sir Charles continued, “Furthermore, the confidentiality clause of our agreement prohibits them from discussing the Tenacity Project with anyone. That helps us avoid negative publicity that might inhibit our ability to develop further support. Negotiations for additional funds are at a critical point, and it wouldn’t do to raise questions.” He peered over his glasses to emphasize his point. “These funders could well mean the difference between success and failure of the entire project.”

  Jancey grasped what was at stake. The last thing they needed now that the world’s media were paying attention was a managerial disaster that would cause potential investors to question their overall competency.

  “What it requires from you is waiving your right to hold them publicly accountable, and criminally liable.” He made eye contact with all, lingering especially on those who had reason to want them prosecuted. “The decision is yours, but I hope you’ll consider this entire incident water under the bridge.”

  “I wasn’t impacted the way you guys were,” Marlon said. “I’ll back you a hundred percent if you want to see them in jail. But we all know what it’s like to dream about space every minute of every day. Cutting me off from that would be the worst thing you could do to me, so think about what their lives will be like now.”

  Mila set her jaw and nodded. “Agreed. There’s justice in a deal that totally shuts them out of aerospace.”

  As the others signed off, Jancey entertained a couple of niggling thoughts. “What does Wade get out of this? He spent two weeks in the hospital and lost his chance to fly forever.”

  “A seat on our board of directors,” Sir Charles answered, not missing a beat. “We’ve assembled the leaders in the space industry with not one astronaut. A serious oversight on our part, corrected with his addition. He’ll guide us on behalf of all of you.”

  Jerry was first to offer a pat on the back. “No more of that squash soup, buddy. You hear me? That stuff is nasty.”

  Jancey interrupted the congratulations with one final question, the bit of information Sir Charles had skirted in his plan forward. “What’s the launch order? Who goes first?”

  He looked down, noticeably uncomfortable. “That is a sticky wicket, I’m afraid. We’ve already announced the Fagans as the first to launch. If we replace them with a team not even on the rotation, it would be difficult to explain.”

  In other words, the Hatsus would launch first, followed by David and Kamal.

  Mila abruptly rose and stomped away from the group, clearly trying to control her rage. Falling back on old habits—say nothing to avoid losing control.

  Jancey understood her anger. None of this was their fault—everyone else knew it too—and yet they were being asked to step aside so the committee could save face.

  “Unacceptable,” Wade said emphatically. “From the beginning, the Tenacity Project said the selection process would be based on merit. We took you at your word. You want me on the board to speak for the astronauts? That’s what I’m doing now. The committee can’t break its faith—nor sacrifice its integrity—for the sake of public relations.”

  “We feel the same,” Fujio said, gesturing toward his wife, who nodded her agreement. “We did not earn the right to be the first team on Mars. It would not be proper to take that honor from Major Beaumont and Miss Todorov.”

  David spoke up. “Fujio and Suki are right. We went through all the trials together. They came out on top, fair and square.”

  It felt good to get everyone’s support, especially after hearing that some of her fellow candidates had been suspicious of her friendship with Grace.

  Yet even Grace appeared conflicted, a sign to Jancey that it wasn’t as simple as Wade and the others made it sound. The threat of losing investor support was real. If potential funders or space contractors raised questions about the project’s leadership, the entire effort could crumble.

  Jancey couldn’t ignore those concerns. Grace wouldn’t be so worried unless she believed the risk to be great.

  With a slight jerk of her head, she summoned Mila back to the group. “Trust me on this,” she whispered. For the sake of the project, they had to be team players. “We’ll do what’s best for Tenacity. What
matters most—not just to me, but to all of us here—is having the resources to get to Mars, and then to support the colony once we’re there. Mila and I don’t want to screw that up.”

  Sir Charles beamed. “Splendid! We’ll issue a press release at once announcing both the withdrawals and the replacements.”

  Grace tugged his sleeve. “Perhaps we could add that in light of our new personnel, there may be subsequent changes in the launch schedule. It is, after all, vital that we have the best team in place when the others launch.”

  “Yes, perhaps,” he said, noticeably dismissive.

  That didn’t bode well for their chances, but Jancey could make peace with it. At least she had a guaranteed seat, something that wasn’t true when she’d decided to return to the project to be with Mila.

  As Grace and the dogs walked the entourage to the door to see them off, Jancey and Mila huddled at the rail, looking out over the back lawn and the ocean beyond.

  “Kinda sucks, doesn’t it?” Mila said.

  “Not as much as it sucked four days ago. Look at the bright side.”

  “Which is?”

  “I don’t know. There has to be one somewhere.”

  “I’ll tell you the bright side,” Grace said, squeezing in between them. “There’s no way I’m letting Charles fly anyone else first.”

  * * *

  “Do you think Grace has any idea what goes on in her cabana after dark?” Mila asked, spreading a spa towel over their bodies to ward off the chill as their perspiration dried. Jancey’s head lay on her chest, and a bare leg was wedged between hers.

  “This place has been here as long as I can remember. I suspect she and Lana spent a lot of nights out here doing exactly the same thing we just did.”

  The second phase of training, eighteen months from now, would take them to Cologne, Germany. Until then, they’d have many more nights like this while they studied at Tenacity Centre.

  “By the way,” Mila said, “I feel very proud to be your partner. Watching you negotiate with Sir Charles, it just struck me what a special person you are. Everyone listens to you. You could have gone with anyone and you chose me.”