This sounded like a relaxed way to make it seem like the box wasn’t that important to me, so I agreed.
Behind the bar is a man I’ve only seen in passing a few times. From his file I know he’s Eduard Calvo, an Argentinian molecular biologist working for a German pharmaceutical company.
He gives me a friendly nod as he shakes a concoction in a silver tumbler. After a few seconds of mixing, he holds the container perfectly still then lifts the top. A spinning globule of amber liquid floats out with a cherry in the middle.
Calvo takes a plastic straw from a container and hands it to me. “Mr. Dixon, if you would. And save the cherry for last.”
“Drink it?”
“No, bloody take a photo of of it,” says a cranky British voice from behind me.
I hold the straw towards the ball of liquid and take a small sip. It shrinks slightly as I suck it in.
There’s a sweet rum taste with a crisp flavor I can’t quite place.
“That’s good,” I tell Calvo.
Samantha slaps me on the ass and commands “Drink the whole thing.”
“I’m still working,” I reply.
“Doctor’s orders,” says Warren.
“I think the doctor is drunk.”
“Yes. But my order still stands.”
If my goal is to not appear to be some uptight government operative with a secret agenda, then it’s probably a good idea to play the opposite.
I flick the straw away and put my lips on the ball and inhale it in one giant slurp. When I finish, the cherry is at my lips.
I spin around to face the gathered group and grin.
“Who’s going to take Dixon’s space cherry?” bellows Warren.
I lock eyes with Samantha. I can see she’s already preparing to go in for the kill, but then out of nowhere, Tamara Collins swoops in and snatches the cherry from my lips like a shark.
She gives me a wink as she drifts away.
“You miserable cougar,” says Warren.
“Adapt or die,” she replies. “That’s the problem with you people, you can’t make up your minds.”
Samantha and the other two women she’d been talking with are bent over laughing, rolling in the air.
I smile, happy to be part of a fun group. Inwardly, I’m thankful Tamara was the one to get me off the hook.
Primarily because it means that whatever reservations she has about me, she’s trying to make some effort to accept me. Also, I’m relieved because it alleviates some of the tension between Samantha and myself.
“What do you think?” asks Calvo.
“That was great. Definitely a first.”
“I didn’t put too much alcohol in there. So don’t worry. But if you do plan on getting drunk, I recommend you have your hangover in the hotel. I can tell you from personal experience you do not want to experience that in zero-g.”
“That’s excellent advice.”
He shoves the tumbler under the bar then leans into me. “So, it looks like Dr. Turco has taken a liking to you.”
“I think she’s just kidding around.”
“No, she’s not. We were beginning to think she was asexual. It seems she was just waiting for the right guy to show up.”
“I’m not sure if that’s me.”
Calvo raises a hand and shows me a wedding ring. “I can understand. I enjoy watching the debauchery, but from a happy distance. So I take it there’s someone special?”
“It’s complicated.”
“A work in progress.”
“Yeah. Maybe so.” I look over at Turco as she talks to her friends and catch a flash of her green eyes as she steals a look at me and smiles. “Once upon a time I would not have hesitated.”
“Oh man, you have it bad. This complicated situation, has it even progressed to an intimate level?”
I let out a laugh. “Who the hell are you?”
“Right now? Space bartender.”
“As a matter of fact, no. I’m not even sure if it’s mutual.”
“Wow,” replies Calvo. “You really have it bad. There’s a perfectly willing incredibly sexy female just a few meters away from you ready to have hot, steamy space sex and you’re saving yourself for some girl you’re not even dating.”
“Pour me another drink.”
“A let me lose my inhibitions and just go with it, kind of drink?”
“How about, a take my mind off hot steamy space sex, drink?”
“Have you ever done it in zero-g?”
“No. iCosmos would prefer their pilots focus on flying. You?”
“Well, no. First chance I get to have my wife up here, we’re going to try to conceive. She’s a medical doctor, so it’ll be in the interest of science.” He gestures to the rest of the module, now tightly packed with about a dozen people. “I’d say half of them are little less inhibited than you and me. I wouldn’t have put Turco into that group, then you showed up. Must be the bad boy reputation.”
“Must be.”
Forty-Three
Mission Control
After spending another hour in the Tiki module, doing my best to act like a care free guy while steering clear of any more of Calvo’s cocktails, I head for the hatch.
As I near the exit, Samantha grabs me by the elbow. “Where are you heading off to?”
“I’m going to take a microscope to my shoe and see where it went wrong.”
“Don’t forget to ask your friend about the little box thing.”
“Yeah. I’ll make some scans and send them down.”
“Think we should show it to Tamara?”
Samantha seems like she’s not sure who to trust. This could be an act, but it’s best if I proceed as if I believe she’s being sincere.
“Probably. But let’s see if I can get an answer from somebody first. Just in case.” I don’t spell out what that case may be, but my implication is that we don’t even know if we can trust Tamara.
“Good point. Hey, if you’re going to be around later, some of us are going up to the observation bubble.”
“Is that where the after party is?”
“If you think this is the party, you have another thing coming.”
“I’ll try to stop by.” I grab a rail to push off towards the exit, then stop. “Hey, thanks for helping me out today.”
“Don’t mention it. I could see in your eyes out there for a moment you weren’t sure if I was going to save your ass.”
“Did it show?”
“Don’t worry. If I wanted you dead, you’d never see me coming.”
“Thanks Dr. Turco.”
“Anytime.”
I head back to my lab, shut the hatch then call down to Earth. I get Admiral Jessup and Captain Baylor on the screen.
“How did the search go?” asks Jessup.
“Other than a minor hiccup, it went well.”
“Could you define ‘hiccup’ for us,” Baylor replies.
“My space shoe had a malfunction and my foot swelled to cartoon proportions. But it’s fine now.” I quickly change the topic from my incompetence, “The important thing is I found this.”
I take the box from my pocket and let it float in front of the camera.
“Is that the fingerprint sensor jammer?” asks Baylor.
“I believe so.” I place it inside a scanner. “I’m going to send you some images. Maybe someone down there can give us an idea of where it came from.”
Green laser light begins to pass over the box inside the machine as thermal and millimeter radar sensors probe the interior.
“Getting it now,” replies Baylor. “Not a very sophisticated device.”
“No. It just needs to know the frequency of the security system. The clever part is the surface which is actually a solar panel. It almost matched the color of the station.”