“You’ve operated a shuttle and taught others to do so, which makes you intimately acquainted with its workings. But that’s almost beside the point. Of course no one is expecting you to do it all. I’m talking about leadership. You would have wide discretion in handpicking a team of professionals from both inside and outside the agency.”
She looked at him. “I’d expect a few ranking members of the organization to be very unhappy about being passed over for consideration.”
“Leave that to me,” he said with a dismissive sweep of his hand. “If their feelings get hurt, they can come in here and I’ll hand out Kleenex, scold them, compliment their hairdos or neckties, whatever it takes to settle them down. Ninety percent of what I do, day in and day out, is play conciliator between massive egos. I can butter a bun as well as any diplomat.”
A thought suddenly crossed Annie’s mind as she listened to him.
“I have to ask you right out,” she said. “Is this whole thing about trotting me out before the television cameras again? Using me as a figurehead?”
“Fair question,” he said. “And I won’t tell you the esteem with which you are held by the public hasn’t been taken into account. They need to believe in the findings of our task force, and truth from government is a hard sell. But the fact that you go down well with television viewers is only part of it.” He paused, his eyes meeting Annie’s. “I hope I’ve already made clear that the high regard for your ability and integrity extends into this office. And you also should know that Roger Gordian is pushing like hell for you.”
The revelation left her nonplussed again. “You’ve consulted with him?”
“We were on the telephone earlier this morning.” Dorset’s lips hinted at a smile. “And I can assure you, he left no room for confusion about his preference.”
Annie felt an unaccountable twitch of nervousness as that sank in.
“I don’t know what to say,” she told him. “There are other issues. The shuttle will have to be reconstructed piece by piece, and the Vehicle Assembly Building at Canaveral’s the only facility we have that’s large enough to hold it. I’d have to be in Florida to constantly oversee things, stay on top of the progress that’s being made. It would mean uprooting my family….”
“Housing won’t be a problem. We have excellent condominiums where you can sit on your balcony under a sun umbrella and watch the manatees and dolphins swim by.”
“It isn’t just that. The children are both in school—”
“Gordian’s offered to arrange for them to attend the best private school on the coast and pay their full tuition indefinitely. He will also take care of any day care and tutorial needs that may arise from the transition.”
“Sir—” She paused, overwhelmed. “I appreciate your offer. And Mr. Gordian’s generosity. But I need to think about this.”
“I understand.” He gulped down some coffee. “Take half an hour.”
She looked at him, speechless, wondering for a stunned moment if he might have been joking. The unchanged sobriety of his expression told her he wasn’t.
“I’d been hoping for somewhat more time,” she said. “A day or two—”
“And you ought to have at least that long. Unfortunately, though, the media leeches have turned up the rheostat. You know the atmosphere they’ve created. People expect everything from civil wars to natural disasters to be paced like hour dramas, their storylines concluded in time for the eleven o’clock news, and when reality conflicts with that expectation, sentiments can turn ugly. I promise that you won’t be pressured into rushing the investigation, but we need to demonstrate that we’re moving quickly to get the ball rolling. The Kazakhstan launch can’t be held up.”
Annie shook her head a little. “I’m not quite sure I see the connection. Apart from coordinating our schedules, the Russian mission was intentionally planned to be independent of Orion, and ought not be affected.”
“I know that, and you know that, but they’ve gotten cold feet before. Citing technical problems for every delay, when all it’s ever boiled down to is their unwillingness — or inability, I want to be fair — to pay for their own ticket to the show. As Gordian reminded me, they are quite capable of bumping their launch if they get jittery about the United States backing away from its financial commitments.”
Even before Dorset was finished talking, Annie had realized she couldn’t argue that with him on that count. He was right. Absolutely right.
She had nodded in agreement and risen from her seat.
“I’ll be in my office,” she had said.
“And get back to me in thirty?”
“In thirty,” she’d assured him.
And here she was, here she was, the clock ticking down, leaving her with less than five minutes to give him her answer.
Her fingers drummed the desk. Why was she having such trouble making a decision? Dorset’s offer should have been irresistible. The kids would love Florida, especially knowing they would return home to their regular gaggle of friends once the investigation was concluded. With Orlando and all its razzle-dazzle tourist attractions less than an hour’s drive away, she could arrange her schedule so that every weekend would be a visit to paradise for them. And for her it would mean the chance to make certain no effort was spared in determining what had made Orion go up in flames, why Jim Rowland had died in such a horrible way… and to see that no other astronaut was ever threatened by a similar malfunction.
Annie probed her mind for the basis of her hesitation. Could it be she was afraid of failing to discover the cause of the fire, and thus failing Jim as well? Or was there some other underlying reason she was holding back, a failure of a different sort that had kept her chained and manacled in a dungeon of self-reproach since the night Mark died. Maybe, just maybe, she was like a prisoner acclimated to captivity who shrinks from her cell door as it is opened in an offer of release, looking directly out into freedom, and feeling a sudden terror that she no longer knows how to live with it.
Unconsciously at first, then with growing awareness, she studied the picture of Mark and herself in Scotland again, two people exulting in the moment, and welcoming a future that was by its very definition uncertain. Studied the picture, and all at once knew what her response to Dorset would be.
What it had to be.
Taking a deep breath, she reached for the telephone and punched in Dorset’s extension.
His receptionist put her through to him immediately.
“Yes?” he said, taut anticipation in his voice.
“Sir, I’d like to thank you for your offer,” she said. “And also ask if I may have Roger Gordian’s phone number, so I can express my appreciation for his support. And personally inform him of my acceptance.”
An instant after reading Gordian’s number off the display of his pocket computer, Dorset congratulated Annie Caulfield on her decision, hung up the phone, then rose from behind his desk and went over to the coffee machine on its small stand across the office. This would be his fourth — or was it his fifth? — mug of the morning and he’d only gotten in a bit over an hour ago. But what the hell, who was counting — he had enough to occupy his mind without keeping a tally.
He lifted the pot from its warming plate, filled his mug almost to the brim, and took a drink of the strong black brew while still standing at the machine. He began to feel calmer right away. How was it he always needed to be sipping a beverage loaded with caffeine, a stimulant, to relax? Though one could, of course, ask the same thing about chain smokers, nicotine being another notorious hyper-upper. Perhaps it was simply an oral fixation, as with overeaters. After all, what inherent calmative properties might there be in a sausage pizza, a Subway sandwich, or a cheeseburger with a side of batter-fried onion rings?