Heaven's Shadow (21 page)

She wiped those off, then put the helmet on again.

I am moved to post the words to the Navy Hymn, suitably updated:

Lord, guard and guide the men who fly
Through the great spaces of the sky
Be with the travelers in the air,
In darkening storms or sunlight fair;
Oh, hear us when we lift our prayer,
For those in peril in the air.

POSTER UK BEN AT NEOMISSION.COM

Very
appropriate! Well done!

POSTER JERMAINE, SAME SITE

Nice sentiment, but Pogo Downey would be spinning in his grave if he knew you’d used the Navy Hymn.

POSTER JSC GUY, SAME SITE

Lucas Munaretto had hated to leave Zack and Natalia behind, especially with Downey dead. But orders were orders, and he had seen the wisdom in sending one member of the team back through the membrane.

Not that he wanted to stay in that horrifying environment. He was
happy
to say good-bye to Keanu and its little red glowworms and chaotic weather and murderous machine. He just wanted Zack and Natalia to come with him.

Reaching rover
Buzz
and the link, he had told Bangalore and Houston everything he had seen, then followed their orders to enter the rover, eat, rest, and recharge his suit.

Exhausted, he had essentially passed out, waking two hours later with sore muscles in a sitting position, the suit cold and ill-fitting. It was only static-distorted shouting from the earphones of his headset that penetrated his fog.

“We’ve been calling you for half an hour!”

“I had my headset off.”

“Leave it on.” He tried to remember who the communications operator was in Bangalore. One of the crew training team—Sergei? Nair?—he couldn’t tell. A familiar voice was supposed to be comforting to a flight crew member.

“Who is this, please?”

“Vikram.” Shit, the flight director himself. “Can you function?”

Lucas had trained on the NASA rover only once, during a crew exchange in Houston. Whereas he knew every instrument and metal seam in the
Brahma
cabin—knew the sounds and smells—rover
Buzz
was an alien environment, a squat cylinder eight feet high, and not much wider or deeper. It was cramped, and because in addition to forgetting to turn on the radio, he had also neglected the interior lights, it was quite dark.

“I’m ready to go,” he told Vikram, reaching for his helmet and his gloves. He was almost afraid to ask what Bangalore had in mind—

Then the rover
rocked
. “Jesus!” It was the second most terrifying moment of this day—and one of the top two in Lucas’s life. Had the thing that killed Downey come after him?

“Say again, Lucas.”

A light swept through the rover interior, and Lucas relaxed. He pressed his face up to the window embedded in the rear hatch . . . saw two astronauts, one in a Coalition suit, one in a NASA model. “Zack and Natalia are here!”

“Double check that,” Vikram said, the exasperation audible in his voice, even across the time lag . . . and distance of 440,000 kilometers.

The speakers inside rover
Buzz
crackled, and even as he heard Bangalore in his headset, he now heard Tea Nowinski’s voice in the cabin. “Lucas, it’s Tea and Taj. Are you in suit?”

Twenty minutes later, he was completely suited up and outside rover
Buzz
, listening to Taj. “Dennis has moved over to
Venture
to keep an eye on Yvonne.”

Taj had brought another sled from
Brahma
—empty. “You didn’t have time to put anything in it?” Lucas joked.

“Didn’t you get briefed?” Tea said, sounding irritated. “This is to let us haul bodies out of there.” She grabbed the tether and began hauling it toward the membrane, less than a hundred meters away.

Lucas had no answer for that, which seemed to further annoy Tea. “They’re an hour past the extreme limit of their consumables.”

“In normal circumstances, yes.” As Taj and Lucas hurried to keep up with Tea, Lucas told the others as much as he could about the wind and glowworms.

Taj seemed confused. “You’re saying there’s a
breathable atmosphere
through this curtain?”

“All I know is that it’s not vacuum.” Lucas turned to Tea, seeking an ally on the side of optimism, however brief and foolish. “Do we know how the suits will operate under pressure, with some oxygen in the environment?”

“Yes,” Tea said. “They will operate exactly the way they would in vacuum. Unless Zack and Natalia opened their suits and breathed, they are almost surely dead.”

“What if they sat down . . . rested . . . slowed the rate of consumption?”

“They’ve run those calculations, too,” Taj said.

“They can’t be very precise—”

“They
aren’t
,” Tea said, clearly wanting to end this line of discussion. “That’s why we’re still calling this a rescue and retrieval mission.”

They had reached the membrane. “We just walk through this?” Taj said, clearly doubtful.

“It’s about ten meters deep . . . maybe less,” Lucas said.

“Can’t you fucking remember?” Tea again.

Lucas was appalled, not just by her obvious anger. He was embarrassed to know that their words were being recorded, even if they wouldn’t be heard for hours yet. “The boundaries are compressible. It seemed thinner the second time I went through.”

Tea was examining the seam where the membrane attached to the rocky walls. “Are we being heard?” Lucas asked.

“Only in both mission controls,” Taj said. “Both sides agreed on a blackout.”

“A first for everything—”

Tea shut up as the membrane bulged.

Someone was emerging! Taj hauled Tea away from the seam. “Stand back, everyone!”

It was Natalia, stumbling forward.

Lucas caught her. She was clearly happy to see them, so happy she was almost incoherent, speaking half in Russian about
vorvolaka
.

“Calm down!” Taj said.

“I’m
really
glad they can’t hear this at home on television,” Tea said, grabbing Natalia by her shoulders and turning her face-on. “Natalia, where’s Zack?”

“I left him—”

“You
what
?”

“Wait, Tea.” It was Taj, who had been reading the oxygen levels on Natalia’s suit. “We’ve got to get her to the rover. She’s almost out of gas.”

“Fuck! Fine!” Tea joined Taj, each taking Natalia by the arm and halfescorting, half-hauling her back to the rover.

“Zack was okay when I left him,” Natalia said, quickly explaining that both astronauts had removed their helmets and breathed the atmosphere of Keanu.

On hearing this, Tea seemed to relax. “Okay. What else is going on in there? What is
vorvolaka
?”

“A word my grandmother would use. Is like ‘ghost’ or ‘undead.’”

Even though she had calmed down considerably since finding them, Natalia was almost hysterical, and her English was the first casualty. Lucas had a difficult time understanding her.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Tea said, clearly impatient with the cosmonaut’s Old World imagery. “You’re not making sense.”

They were at the rover now. “It is very hard to believe,” Natalia said. Then she patted her helmet camera. “But I will show you.”

Taj pulled a linking cord out of his chest pack. “You’ll not only show us, you’ll be showing Houston and Bangalore.”

My name is Rachel Stewart. I am eleven years old. I live on Chestnut
Drive in Clear Lake City. My father is a
NASA
astronaut. My mother is
driving me crazy with her camera.

UNPUBLISHED TEXT FROM RACHEL STEWART, SIXTH-GRADE ASSIGNMENT,
ST. BERNADETTE’S SCHOOL

“What about Rachel?” To Zack, it was as if “Megan” wouldn’t allow herself to say,
Was Rachel killed with me?
or
Was she badly injured?

“She was shaken up. She went through a very traumatic period. Lost her mother, all of that. But from the accident? A bump on her head and some cuts.”

“Tell me about her!”

So for ten minutes, he did—suitably sanitized. This was not the time or place to complain about Rachel’s inability to be the perfect dutiful daughter.

“And she’s in mission control?”

“She was a few hours ago.”

“I want to see her.”

Zack hesitated. “As soon as we can figure out how to get us in touch—”

Then she stood and began rubbing off the second skin, revealing some other layer of shinier material underneath. Stranger and stranger.

“What about Harley?”

Zack had to tell her about Harley’s injuries. “It wasn’t his fault,” she said. “It was just . . . all messed up.”

“Well, he still feels guilty. But I’m going to guess that getting absolution from the person he killed might make him feel better.” She actually shot him a perfect Megan look—
Ha-ha
—as she stood and began to rub off the flaky outer husk, leaving the tougher layer beneath.

“Do you feel different?”

“Yes and no. Physically, mentally, I feel pretty much the way I did before I got killed—which, by the way, is a phrase I’m really never going to get used to.

“I’m breathing. I have a heartbeat. What’s different is my outfit.” She nodded at him. “I bet it’s more comfortable than that suit.” She was picking at her second skin.

“You’re going to be naked if you keep that up.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” She had done her legs and arms. “Help me with my back.”

The outer layer of the second skin was more fragile than Zack had thought. “Is this drying out and flaking off?”

“God, I hope so.”

Zack stood back then, looking away in some bizarre and unnecessary attempt at politeness. The moment allowed him to think again about larger issues. “So what do we call this event?” he said. “A resurrection?”

“I guess. I mean, not in the I-saw-Jesus sense. But I never was as religious as you.”

He had no immediate comment. Megan noted his silence. “You still don’t believe this, do you?”

“Put yourself in my place: Would you?”

“Hell, no!”

“As long as we understand each other.”

“The moment I have some definitive explanation for my current state, I’ll pass it on.”

Zack nodded. “Do you remember
anything
after the accident?”

She pressed a hand to her mouth. “Yes. I’d have to say I was dreaming. Long, crazy dreams that . . . actually, I do remember, sort of. I was floating or flying or just aware.” Then she forced a smile. “What I remember most, though, is being in that car with Rachel and Harley. Not, bam, an hour ago. But it feels like . . . it all happened yesterday.”

She rocked her head from side to side. “I’m digging the repair job on my neck. I’m guessing it was broken.”

“Among other things,” Zack said, barely able to utter the sentence. “How did you know you were on Keanu?”

“I just knew, the same way I opened my eyes and spoke English.”

“But you knew English before.”

“Fine. Come up with a better analogy. I just knew I was on Keanu, that I’d been killed and brought back.” She frowned, clearly searching for a way to describe it. “Think of it like a role in a play—I’m an actor who just knows her lines.”

“What else do you know? You knew you were on Keanu. Is there anybody else here? I mean, who did this to you?”

“When I ask myself that question, I hear or feel or download one word: Architects.”

“That’s all? Just Architects?”

“That’s the word in my head.” She was nearly naked now, sitting knees together, arms around them, swaths of the underlayer second skin still clinging to her.

“Is there something I can do for you . . . ?”

“You could start by calling me Megan. You were never much for using my name, did you ever realize that? But given the circumstances . . .”

He realized that she was correct. He’d almost never called her by her name. Rachel was often
Rachel
, yes. But Megan had always been
honey
or
baby
—

“Megan,” he said, “Mrs. Stewart . . .”

“Now you’re just being silly.”

“Megan . . .”

“Yes, Zachary.” That was what she’d called him most of the time.

“Nothing, just trying it on again.” He couldn’t help smiling. Even if this encounter turned out to be some insidious alien monkey trap, Zack was going to enjoy it to the extent he could.

“Oh.” She frowned. “Hey, I don’t suppose you have anything to eat.”

Zack was able to pry an energy stick out of his helmet stash. “There are only a couple of bites left.”

“Men, never thinking about food.” But she happily devoured it. “Remember that restaurant we went to in Los Angeles? Barsac?”

Another memory only he or Megan would know. “Yeah. Most money I’ve ever paid for a meal. But a good one.”

She waggled the last bite. “This is better. . . .”

“Well, you haven’t eaten in over two years. Talk about sharpening your appetite.” She laughed so hard she actually shuddered. “You must be cold.”

“Not really. The breeze is warm, kind of like Santa Anas.” She clapped her hands together, as if cleaning them off, another familiar Megan gesture. “
You’re
the one who must be uncomfortable. Take off that suit.” She saw the immediate look of confusion and reluctance on his face. “What now?”

“I’m not sure—about you or anything right now. Not hitting on all six. For example, I haven’t thought about my EVA partner for thirty minutes.”

“Where do you think he is?”

“She. Natalia Yorkina, one of the
Brahma
crew. And I just don’t know.” In fact, he’d tried calling Natalia on radio, and gotten nothing but static. For the first time in his astronaut career, Zack literally had no idea what action to take.

“Nothing?”

“Comm isn’t great in here.”