The grand tour was less than impressive. Wires hung from open panels while teams of dirty Russians shot heated phrases back and forth with expressions of deep frustration and anger. There was a steady drip in the cockpit that tick-tick-ticked onto the synthetic material of the acceleration seat. When Ron ran a finger across it and looked up questioningly, Frank just shook his head. “Condensation. Can’t help it with so many people in here. They’ll flush it before we launch.”
When they were back out in the freezing cold again, and well away from Russian ears, Ron turned to Jere and said, “Would you fly in this?”
“Of course,” Jere said. Not a bit of hesitation. Not a bit. He knew how to deal with Dad.
The older man looked up and down the ship. “If you need more money…”
And be even more in your debt? “No,” Jere said.
“You sure?”
I’m sure I don’t want to hear you remind me about how you bailed me out again. Jere nodded and turned to Evan. “We’re on schedule?”
“Unless Frank tells me different.”
“We’ll make it,” Frank said. “No problemo.”
Later, when they were back in the car for another freezing, terrifying ride back to the hotel, Ron spoke again.
“Do you get the feeling that Frank wants this to work a little too much?”
“How’s that?” Evan said.
“He’s an astronaut. But he never flew.”
“So?”
A frown. “So maybe he wants to fly. Really badly.”
“Sometimes a little enthusiasm is a good thing,” Evan said.
Ron turned to Jere. “What do you think?”
Pretend to consider, then answer. “I think it’s good we have someone who loves what he does.”
Silence from Ron. Then: “I hope you’re right.”
Last. Dead last. No denying it now. No excuses. It had taken them way too long to assemble the Wheel that morning, far longer than they had taken back on Earth. Blame it on the cold, or the parts that didn’t want to fit together, but facts were facts.
And yet Glenn was strangely happy, oddly content. Just like that one freeclimb in Tibet, when it was clear they were beaten, hanging exhausted from numb fingertips beneath a thin sun rapidly disappearing behind a front of ominous purple-grey clouds. That moment when he realized they weren’t going to make it, that they would have to go back down. The stress and the worry suddenly lifted from him. And his great surprise when Alena agreed with him. They scrambled down the rock as the icy rain hit.
They made love back in what passed for a hotel with incredible intensity, golden and yellow sparks flying in a perfect night sky, impossible to describe, infinite and endless in a moment’s perfection. They finally collapsed, sated, face to face, sweat cooling to an icy chill in the cold room. He waited until her breathing had slowed, and lengthened, and deepened, then said, very softly, “Marry me.”
Alena’s eyes opened. In the dark they were like the glassy curve of two crystal spheres, unreadable.
“Yes,” she said softly, and closed her eyes again.
Had he imagined it? Had she really heard him? He fell asleep with questions resonating in his mind.
When he woke in the morning, she was already pulling on her gear. Glenn had a moment of sleepy pleasure, watching her slim form, before he remembered his question-and her answer-from the night before.
She looked down at him. The light fell pale and grey on her face. She looked like the ghost of an angel.
“Yes,” she said. “I said yes.”
“Glenn!” Alena shrieked. “Watch out!”
Glenn jerked back to the present as the Wheel caromed off a boulder and promptly went bouncing across a field. He pulled on his harness and leaned outside of its edge, shortening the bounces on his side and bringing them back on course. They’d been experimenting with a new technique. Each of them leaned out the side of the Wheel, giving a better view of the terrain ahead than through the translucent dust-coated fabric, and allowing them to shift its direction more rapidly by leaning in and out to shift the center of gravity.
“Pay attention!” Alena said.
“I know, I know,” Glenn said. “I’m sorry.”
“What were you thinking?”
“ Tibet,” he said.
Silence for a time. “Oh.”
“Remember?”
“I remember I don’t like losing.”
“We’re making up time,” Glenn said, after a while.
“I know.”
“The others may have problems with the Kite.”
Alena shot him a puzzled look. “Why are you trying to make me feel better?”
Because I love you, Glenn thought. That’s another thing I never wanted to lose.
The spooks came in the middle of February sweeps, just three months before launch. Jere and Evan were still trying to convince themselves that making the August sweeps would be better than February, but no matter how you garnished it or rationalized it, there would be less access in the summer. Now some of the sponsors wanted guaranteed access levels or kickbacks.
And now this.
“Mr. Gutierrez?” There were two of them, wearing indistinguishable blue suits. One of them wore a cheap black tie, the other a turtleneck. Their eyes were heavy and dead and immobile, and for once Jere was glad that his father was there with him.
He looked at the ID, not seeing the name. It was one of those new fancy holo things that they were trying to sell to everyone, but this one had a big NASA logo and a discreet little eye next to it. He was also wearing a small gold motion-holo pin that flashed and gleamed as the eye morphed into a world and back again. Underneath the holo were the etched letters: USG OVERSIGHT.
“Yes,” Jere said.
Agent #1 turned to his father. “And you, sir?”
“I’m Ron.”
“Ron…”
“Gutierrez.”
“Ah. The father. We didn’t know you had a stake in this.”
“I’m an investor.”
“Ah.”›
Jere held up a hand. “Would you like a seat? Coffee?”
Agent #1 sat. The other remained standing.
“What’s this all about?” Jere asked. “Do you want to buy the program or something?”
“There will be no program.”
“What!” Jere and Ron said, at once.
The agent just looked at them. “We can’t permit the launch.”
“You’re going to stop a launch on Russian soil?”
“When the launch could be part of a terrorist attack, yes, I’m sure the Russians will cooperate.”
“Terrorist! Where do you get that?”
“What if someone was to take over your launch, and turn it back at the US? How big of a crater could he make if it went down on a city?”
Ron’s face was red. “That’s… idiotic!”
“What do you want?” Jere asked.
“We want to prevent any possible attack on the United States.”
Ron nodded, sudden understanding gleaming in his eyes. “ China.”
“Excuse me?”
“ China ’s bitching about our program, aren’t they?”
The agent shrugged. “It is your option to speculate.”
“So what do you want?” Jere said. “How do we launch?”
“You don’t. However, if you turn the program over to us, and allow us to send qualified observers, we would provide proper acknowledgement of your role in this endeavor.”
“We can’t do that!” Jere said. “What about our sponsors? They’ll come for our heads. Hell, the Russian Mafia will come for our heads, too! We can’t just hand this over to you.”
“I’m sure we can placate the Russians. And your sponsors.”
Jere slumped back in his chair. They could do almost anything they wanted. He could be picked up and whisked away and never seen again. He could have everything taken from him piece by piece, a Job job.
Taking their offer might be the best bet. Of course, he’d have to get Evan in on it, but maybe there was some way to profit from it anyway. When you were talking deep pockets, the government had the deepest pockets of all. Maybe they could spin it…