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“We don’t know, Mr. President. We’re going to conduct an autopsy as soon as he’s back on Earth and answer that very question: why did he die? I can tell you there was no accident with his space suit, and there were no injuries that we know of—not that could cause that kind of trauma.”
“Then how—” President Puchkov’s voice wobbled. Drew tight. “How did this happen? Are the others safe?”
Roxanne sighed, slumping against the door.Sasha…Maybe she should have listened to Dan. Sasha and the Russian president as star-crossed lovers was romantic back at the lake, the kind of secret that felt good to keep, like she was shepherding Cupid's arrow or protecting true love on an underground railroad.
It was less romantic when she had to personally answer to the president of Russia and try to reassure him the love of his life was safe.
Especially when she didn’t know if she could make that promise.
What was happening up there?
“Mr. President—” She stopped. Hesitated. “Mr. President, we’re trying to find out everything we can. Right now, the crew is resting. We told them all to unplug and decompress. While they’re taking a break, we’re coming up with fifteen different plans to address this. Everything from evacuating the station to sending the two astronauts on the Lunar Gateway to come relieve everyone while our people bring the bodies home. But one way or the other, Mr. President, we’re bringing our peoplehome. I promise.”
* * *
ISS
Earth’s Orbit
Michaela rockedin Mark’s hold, her tearstained face pressed against his biceps, her arms wrapped tight around his shoulders. Her legs floated free, limp, and the force of her sobs pushed their locked bodies aroundIndependence’s hold. Mark stroked her hair with one hand and held her tight.
Eventually her sobs quieted, and they stopped ricocheting off the bulkheads, slowly coming to a bob behind the pilot’s chair and the darkened consoles and command screens.
“I’m sorry, Michaela,” Mark breathed. “I’m so sorry.”
“This is why you’re not supposed to fraternize.” Michaela sniffed, long and loud. “Damn it, it wasn’t supposed to be this way. We always said, if we do everything together, then we’ll die together. We could crash on impact together. Or burn up on the launch pad. We weren’t supposed to beableto leave the other behind.”
Michaela Fairclough and Jim Howland were one of the astronaut corps’ worst-kept secrets. Everyone who spent five minutes with the two knew there was more to them than they admitted. They were binary stars that orbited each other, each a dazzling brilliance on their own but nearly blinding when together.
Mark had watched them fall in love on his third posting to the Lunar Gateway, their first assignment together. They’d been nearly insufferable then, taking the lunar rovers out for drives beyond the dunes to watch the Milky Way rise from beneath the rims of shadowed craters. They were never more than five feet from each other on the station, going so far as to move their sleeping quarters together. Mark had nearly asked them what sex in zero g was like, but he wasn’t that brave. When Phillipa had relieved him as commander, he’d given her the official briefing—and then the unofficial briefing over a bottle of bourbon.
Six years later, Michaela and Jim were still going strong.
Had been going strong.
“I was going to propose to him when we came back from this mission,” Michaela whispered. “He didn’t want to get married ’cause he thought it would hurt my career. He thought… I dunno, I needed to be able to take the bigger missions, and you and Chris would only assign those to the single astronauts. He wanted me to be the first woman on Mars. But I just wantedhim.” She exhaled, wet and slow. “I decided I didn’t want to go any farther than the moon if it meant having him.” She buried her face in Mark’s sleeve. “I wanted us to be the first married couple in space.”
“I’m sorry,” Mark whispered again. He tucked a lock of Michaela’s hair behind her ear. “I admired you two, you know. How you guys kept going. Nothing would ever stop you, it seemed. I was afraid it was just lust at first. And, how bad would it be when you guys broke up? But no, Michaela, this isn’t why there’s the no fraternization rule. You and Jimlovedeach other, and you always will.”
She sniffed again, and then again, faster. “Fuck, Mark—” Michaela pushed away from him, her hands to her face, cupping her nose. Her eyes were wide and wild, rings of bloodstained white surrounding her dark irises.
“What is it?” Mark reached for her, but she pushed away, backing into the far bulkhead. She pointed at his sleeve.
Mixed with the snot and the tears soaking his T-shirt was a stain of blood, a deep, dark aubergine so intense it was nearly black.
“Mark, what’s happening to me?” Michaela’s voice fractured as blood spilled over her cupped hands and floated free inIndependence’s hold, droplets scattering in all directions. “Oh God!” she cried. “What’s happening?”
Instead of tears, bubbles of blood built at the corners of her eyes.
“Phillipa!” Mark hollered down the airlock. “Call Houston! We have a big fucking problem up here!”
* * *
27
Putoransky State Nature Reserve Siberia
Milesof flat-topped mountains dusted with snow surrounded them on all sides. Flurries blew in the open door of the helicopter, stinging any exposed skin. Jack tucked his face into his thick jacket collar and tried to squint through the freezing wind. Ethan, behind him, buried his face in Jack’s neck.
