The assistant director lightly knocked on the wooden door. He listened intently for a response. Nothing. Ming tried again, this time knocking harder. Again nothing. Convinced his boss was on an important phone call, Ming cautiously opened the door. Because he had not been invited in, he bowed his head as he entered.
Looking at the floor, Ming was surprised he did not hear a sound. “Sir, I have an important update.” He stopped all movement as he waited for his boss to answer. After a long beat, Ming gradually lifted his head. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of Kuang hunched over his desk, his head turned sideways with his arms sprawled out. Ming stood stunned. He saw no movement. He approached guardedly. Kuang’s lifeless eyes were wide open with a blank stare aiming directly at him. Ming tried to process the grim sight. Soon he stood over the desk and saw the bottom side of his boss’s face soaking in a puddle of blood. Ming cautiously placed two fingers on the director’s neck to check for a pulse. As he struggled to get a reading, a handgun lying on the floor next to the desk confirmed his suspicions. After a few moments, it was obvious his mentor was dead. Ming gently closed the dead man’s eyes before softly placing a hand on Kuang’s head. He bowed to say a short prayer for the disgraced leader.
PETER’S MIND WAS floating in a big fog. Where the hell am I? He was going in and out of consciousness as he tried to focus on his surroundings. He felt like a big blob of Jell-O lying in a bed. He was having a difficult time moving any part of his body. He took a few minutes to grasp his situation. As he struggled to clear his head, he saw a man in a military uniform with a stethoscope around his neck standing over him. The man appeared to be talking, but all he heard were muffled sounds. Come on, Peter, wake up.
He looked away as he tried to recall what had happened. He closed his eyes. Bit by bit he started to remember the mission. Then it hit him—he and Jesse had crashed in the Pacific. The man standing over him must be a doctor. His first impulse was to try to find out if his friend had survived. He turned to the man and tried to ask, but nothing came out of his mouth.
The sound of the doctor’s genial voice began to break through Peter’s haze. “Don’t strain yourself, young man. You’re lucky to be alive.” The man turned away. “Nurse, get him some water.”
Hearing the word water made Peter realize his mouth was bone dry. He circled the outside of his mouth with his dry tongue, feeling the rough edges of his chapped lips. The doctor grabbed a cup with a straw from the nurse. He bent down and gently slipped the straw into Peter’s mouth. The first few sips burned flowing down his parched throat. He was starting to get his bearings. He tried again to talk, hoping his words wouldn’t come out gibberish. “How umm Jesse?”
The man looked dumbfounded for a second before he let out a big sigh. “Oh, how’s your partner? He’s fine. He’s banged up too. You two are a couple of lucky sons of guns. Someone up there likes you two. So how do you feel?”
Peter was relieved to hear that Jesse had made it. He tried to move his arms, but found he was having trouble. Obviously he was heavily drugged, yet still in a lot of pain. “I feel like I was hit by a wrecking ball.”
The man chuckled. “That’s a good description. Your body did experience something like that. You sustained some serious internal bleeding caused by the blunt force trauma your body has been through. In fact, blood had stopped flowing to your left leg due to the pressure buildup from the bleeding. I was forced to do a deep cut in your thigh to relieve the pressure before I was able to stop the internal bleeding. The good news is you should be okay; the bad news is you have a couple of tough weeks ahead of you.”
Peter cleared his throat as he looked around. “So where am I?”
“You’re in the infirmary of the LaGrange, the Navy ship that picked you two up. You’ve been out for awhile.”
Peter’s head was clearing by the minute. He assumed SpaceQuest couldn’t get their recovery ship to their location. He tried to sit up before the doctor put his hand on his shoulder. “Son, you don’t want to do too much. Remember you just had surgery.”
Peter relaxed as he let his head fall back on the pillow.
A slow grin began to emerge on the doctor’s face. “I have someone here who would love to see you.”
“Who?”
The doctor stepped back and motioned for someone to approach. All the pain miraculously disappeared when Anya stepped into the light, her face beaming with a joyous smile. She looked like an enchanted angel floating toward him. He thanked God once again for another chance at life as she leaned down toward him. The familiar scent of her coconut body lotion empowered him to slightly raise his head to kiss her soft lips. She cooed, “Thanks for sticking around.”
Peter dropped his head as he remembered his promise to God. “Baby, I don’t plan on going anywhere. You mean too much to me. In fact, I’ve decided to make some changes. I don’t want you worrying about me anymore.”
Anya rose with a twinkle in her eye. She caressed his hand. “I appreciate that, but we don’t need to make any hasty decisions.”
EVER SINCE THE small infirmary had cleared out, Anya had been holding Peter’s hand. It was one of those simple moments in life he was pleased to be experiencing. He was savoring every minute as he stared at his soul mate. He had no opportunity to mull over Blake’s death; Anya consistently kept steering their conversation toward easier ground. Though he was still groggy and tired, he appreciated the light talk.
One subject she talked passionately about was their wedding plans. She was giddy with excitement when describing the latest details. He was delighted to see her happy, and more importantly, glad he was going to be around to participate.
During a lull in the conversation, he stared up at the ceiling. In his mind, the mission had still been a failure. His heart ached for Suzy knowing she had probably been informed of her husband’s death. He wished he could have been there when she was told, comforting her with Blake’s last words before the hatch was closed. He convinced himself the first thing he needed to do when he returned to Houston was to visit her.
Peter’s concentration was broken by the sound of the door opening. “How’s the astronaut doing?”
Peter turned to see the doctor entering with a small, blue duffle bag in his hand. “Hanging in there.”
The doctor did a quick scan of the monitors before stationing himself on the opposite side from Anya. “Good. How’s the pain?”
“Bearable.”
“Let the nurse know if it becomes unbearable.” The doctor then passed the duffle bag over to Anya as he kept his eye on Peter. “I was asked to give this to you. It’s your personal items found in the spacecraft.”
Peter was curious what exactly was in the bag as he watched Anya set it in her lap. “Thanks.”
The doctor patted him on the shoulder. “Make sure you take it easy. If you need anything, just push the call button.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
As the doctor left, Peter turned to see Anya pulling out her picture from the bag.
She wore a blushing grin as she eyed the photo. “So you took me along?”
Peter tenderly responded, “You’ve been with me on every space flight. You’re my good luck charm.”
Her smile grew larger. She then reached in and pulled out Matthew’s toy plane. “What’s this?”