The psychological tests were obnoxious and verging on ridiculous, at times. They wanted to be sure they wouldn’t select someone who would crack under the pressure of boredom and confinement. He understood that and resolved to stay patient with the process.
He wasn’t even surprised when they shoved him into an MRI and barraged him with graphic and disturbing images, probably as a method of determining level of libido and sexual appetites. They couldn’t risk sending a lascivious, raping pervert on a two-year mission with five other people in a small, confined space.
That had been three days before. Now, they’d sent him to sit alone in a small conference room, suddenly, without warning or explanation. He came to the conclusion they were probably softening the blow by telling the losers in advance of the big announcement. He braced himself for that possibility, determined not to let anyone see his disappointment.
But it was Jane Holloway who came through the door with a shy smile. “Hi, there, Dr. Bergen,” she said with a flutter of her fingers. She was more casually dressed this time, but still crisp and neat. Her hair was down, swinging in a trendy, flattering cut. “I heard they interrupted a meeting. I hope it wasn’t too important. I’m about to see the capsule for the first time and I asked if you could come along to show it to me.”
He smiled with relief. “So are the rumors true? You signed the paperwork?”
“I just did. Yes.” She sounded resolute, but also looked uneasy about that, unsure.
“What was the clincher? What made you finally sign?”
A laugh bubbled up out of her. “They told me who their second choice was and I thought, ‘Oh, no—that would be a disaster!’ So, I signed.”
He chuckled along with her. “So, the secret button was competition. I wish I’d known that in Stanford.”
She shook her head ruefully. “No. Not competition. Concern. He might pass among the good old boy’s club here, but he’s not suitable for a first contact mission. He’s lucky to be alive, actually, after some of the shenanigans he’s pulled. I couldn’t convince them they were wrong about him so I decided I’d better stick around.”
He realized he was standing there, nodding at her like an idiot, and headed for the door. “So, why haven’t you seen the capsule yet?”
She raised her eyebrows and took a deep breath. “I didn’t want it to be a factor in my decision-making process. They’ve given me all the tests over the last few weeks, like you, I suppose. I must have passed. They seem to think I’ll be able to handle it, so now I’m ready to see it, I guess.”
He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Well, then. This should be good.”
All the big wigs were waiting in the hall. He greeted them cordially and they walked together to the construction bays. The others stood aside, congratulating themselves, while he gestured at the capsule and explained a few technical things to her.
He didn’t notice anything amiss, at first. She just followed along as he walked the perimeter, showing her the four rocket-booster shells that were about to be mounted. Then he opened it up and she climbed the short service ladder to peek inside. She sat down suddenly on the ladder.
His eyebrows drew together. “Don’t you want to go inside?”
“I—” she plucked at imaginary fuzz on her khaki pants. “Dr. Bergen….” She trailed off.
He shifted his weight from foot to foot uneasily as he watched her struggle, then took a step to stand between her and the men chatting nearby, barely aware of her now.
She lost her composure completely. She glanced over his shoulder. Her eyes were wide with disbelief.
She spoke just above a choking whisper, “They told me this was the most advanced…they said no expense had been spared…the best and the brightest—oh my God, this isn’t a scale model, is it? This is it? It’s…this small? It’s not going to be any bigger than this for six people, for ten months, one-way? We’ll all be…inside there?”
It hit him, then—how weird it must seem to someone outside the space program. Every candidate for this mission would gladly give up a leg to be one of the five going up in this capsule—but they all understood the logistics, the mechanics behind why it had to be this way. For her, it would be a shock. Of course it would. He couldn’t take offense at that, could he?
Her eyes didn’t leave his face while he considered what to say.
“Yes, Doc. This is it,” he said gently.
She bobbed her head once and a tear fled down her cheek. She dashed it away, murmuring to herself so soft he barely heard it, and stood up. She laughed. It was forced, but she was actively re-taking command of herself. “I have a bathroom that’s bigger than this thing,” she said in a thick, pinched voice.
He grinned at her. “Sure. But can your bathroom manage twenty-five-thousand miles per hour?”
She smiled and it lit up her face with such warmth. She stepped down and stuck out her hand. He returned the gesture.
She squeezed his hand and covered it with her other one. It was a simple action, but such a full moment. “I think I can always count on you to give it to me straight, Dr. Bergen.”
She saw him. She got him.
That was it. That was when it really started. If he hadn’t already been falling for her, that would have done it.
There were flashes going off, but he was barely aware of them as he stood there, absorbing that amazing smile. He wouldn’t realize why the photos were taken until the next day when he got the news.
The average taxpayer would never see any of these photos. As far as the public was concerned, this would be the first five-man mission to Mars. Dr. Jane Holloway would be on an extended sabbatical in remote Tibet.
Nevertheless, it was an historic moment and would be documented for the classified NASA archives. One of the engineers that had designed the capsule bound for the Target, who was also selected for the team to man it, was showing it off to the newly recruited linguist-cum-astronaut for the mission.
A copy of one of those photographs was one of the few personal items he’d been permitted to bring. It was tucked inside a technical manual at the back of a storage locker. No one had seen it except the air-quality scientist who screened and approved all the personal items. The photo didn’t create any off-gassing, so it was allowed.
They climbed back into the Providence, shut and locked the hatch. Walsh and Compton went to work re-pressurizing the capsule.
Bergen helped Ajaya pull Jane’s limp form to the medical compartment to go over the EKG data. The electrodes were traditionally worn for space walks when the stress on the body was so great that an astronaut’s vitals were monitored every minute. Ajaya didn’t betray anything as she perused the data.
Bergen stared down at Jane’s face, keeping his expression neutral. She just seemed to be asleep. “Ajaya—her eyes are moving. She isn’t having a seizure, is she?”
“No. It looks like REM sleep to me. Her heart rate spiked a few minutes ago, but has returned to normal now. There’s nothing of concern here.”
“We have atmosphere,” Walsh announced and took off his helmet and gloves. Everyone else followed his example.
Bergen unlatched the seal on Jane’s helmet and began to remove her suit. Once Jane’s torso was uncovered, Ajaya started taking vitals.
It was unnerving, undressing her like a doll. He’d imagined stripping her bare many times, but never like this. He kept his hands steady, his thoughts on the task at hand. It wouldn’t do to betray anything else now.
He was peeling the cooling suit away from the waist down when Walsh issued orders.
“Bergen, get on those air samples. Gibbs, Varma could probably use some assistance.”