Page 85 of Stars
“How do you know—”
Kilaqqi nodded to the sky. “The blood aurora has been sighted. The last time it painted the skies was when I was a young man and death walked among my people. I’ve known this day was coming ever since myhutechiand I saw the dead rise in the underworld. They were reaching for the stars.”
“You mean the satellite? The old Soviet one?”
“I mean a great many things,” Kilaqqi rumbled. “For decades, my people have been charged with watching over the poisoned mind that gave birth to the dead. It was the pact we made with the general. His first step toward atonement.”
“General Sevastyanov?” Ethan asked. “You know where he is?”
“Igor is gone,” Kilaqqi said. “But I will show you his life’s meaning.”
* * *
24
ISS
Earth’s Orbit
Sasha swamout of unconsciousness slowly, blinking awake into the hum and hiss and rattle of theZvezdamodule. Mark floated over him, watching his every facial twitch, his every groan, with a laser-like intensity.
“Sasha?” Mark pulled himself down, slipping his feet into the restraint loops onZvezda’s bulkhead. He unclipped the restraint holding Sasha to the backboard, and Sasha floated free, arms pinwheeling for a moment until he tucked his legs in and straightened. Mark steadied him, both hands gripping his shoulders. “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay.”
“What happened back there?” Mark’s voice was soft, almost too soft to be heard over the motel-room air conditioner noise. “We’re off the radio loop. Houston can’t hear us.”
Normally, Houston was plugged in to all ISS communications. Crewmembers wore wireless headsets that transmitted their every utterance, from whispered curses to jokes to orders passed back and forth. Even without the headsets, microphones in the modules picked up everything that was said. Still, the ISS crew had the ability to turn off the radios, cut Houston out of their loop. It had happened before, mini-mutinies against NASA’s ground team.
“You said you knew who the corpse was. You said he was your father?”
Sasha shook his head. Sedatives still lingered in his blood. He cleared his throat, reached for Mark’s elbows. Gripped his friend tight. “I don’t know what to think,” he croaked. His throat was rough and ragged, his voice raw. “He looks exactly like my…” He hesitated. “My father. Not my birth father. The man I chose as my father.”
Mark’s frown deepened.
“But I have all of my memories with him. How can I have those with my father, yet his corpse is in space for forty years?”
Mark shook his head. “I don’t know. You’re sure it’s him?”
“I could never mistake him. It would be like mistaking Sergey.”
Mark’s eyes flashed. “Well, Sergey has certainly never appeared different, has he?”
Sasha breathed out, his shaking exhale painting over Mark’s stern face.
“I only agreed to bring that warhead back because of what he said. About you. That he swore on your life we were safe.”
“President Puchkov—”
“Sergey.” Mark squeezed his shoulders again. “Iknow, Sasha.”
Sasha’s eyes slipped closed. “How long?”
“I figured it out about an hour after I met him.”
“Blyad. I told him that Superman disguise was useless.”
“You really can’t do anything by half measures, can you?” Mark finally offered Sasha the hint of a smile. “You’re dating thepresidentof Russia? For two years? Someday you have to tell me how you two got together.”
