"Wait!" I yell.
She hasn't shut the K1 docking hatch.
Without that…
BOOM!!!
The capsule hull lurches at me, slamming the hatch into my head, making me see stars.
I float there, dazed for a few seconds.
When I come to my senses, I realize that she disengaged the docking collar while the other hatch was open.
The explosion was the sound of the air popping the capsule out like a BB from an air rifle — ejecting the Unicorn and killing her.
Seconds ago she was alive…
No time to overthink. I can only react.
I slide myself into Bennet's chair and try to stabilize the ship.
The controls are now responsive. Did he have them triggered to come back after some kind of event?
"Nashville, this is Unicorn 22, we have an emergency." My voice is calm, just like Bennet trained me.
"Nashville, can you read me?"
Nothing.
The comm is still down.
Something catches my eye from the side porthole.
It's Peterson.
Her arms over her head, red crystals of blood staining her white uniform; she looks as if she's diving into a pool of black.
The Unicorn tumbles away from her while I sit stunned.
Time goes by, Earth flashes past the window dozens of times. I finally stabilize the ship when I come to my senses slightly.
There's a crackle on the short range ship-to-ship radio and a Russian accent commands, "American vessel, return to the K1."
I ignore it.
Christ. Peterson is dead. Bennet too.
There was blood. Lots of blood.
My space suit is still speckled with it.
I realize I'm still clenching the black square and shove it into my thigh pocket then yank the Russian air mask off and slide on my space helmet.
"American vessel, return to the K1."
I'm not in a talkative mood right now. And I'm pretty sure I won't like what they have to say.
"American vessel, return to the K1. Now!"
I shut the radio off.
This situation is so fucked, I don't even know how much. It could have been some bizarre accident or a damn international incident.
I'm so lost in it I don't even notice at first there's a phone ringing from under Bennet's seat.
Something went down. Something serious enough for Peterson to sacrifice her life.
Ring.
And now the Russians are yelling at me to return to the K1.
Ring.
Bennet told me something was going to happen. But this?
Ring.
Peterson's face as she drifted past the window. My god.
Ring.
All my training and nothing prepares me for this.
Ring.
What would Bennet do? Forget the crazy Bennet that may have just got himself killed. What would the guy that taught me everything about being an astronaut do?
Ring.
Be present. Focus.
Ring.
I unstrap and reach into the small tray under the cushion.
It's an iPhone with a satellite antenna case.
The display says "Unknown caller."
I decide to answer it, rather than deal with the angry Russians. "Hello?"
An electronic voice responds, "If you want to survive, do exactly what I say."
11
Ground Control
"Who the hell is this?" I shout at the phone as if it will help. "What the fuck is going on?"
"I'm the guy that's going to save your life. Pull up reentry profile eight."
I load the eighth profile Peterson had programmed into the system. The tracking is all wrong.
It has the ship coming down over Brazil.
"What the…"
"Why can't I just go back to Canaveral or Mojave?"
"Take a look at the S.O.T."
I pull up the Space Object Tracking map; a 3-dimensional model of all the different objects currently in orbit. Each one has a dot and ghostly outline tracing its orbit.
"See those two dots that just moved from their orbital paths?"
Two specks in Low Earth Orbit have moved away out of their tracks.
"Those are Russian satellite killers. Each one is armed with a chemical laser that will burn a hole in your hull at the moment of reentry. If you try to land anywhere on US ground, you'll be a pile of ash before you hit the surface."
"Why can't I talk to Mission Control?"
"Right now Roscosmos is telling them that you went berserk and used a smuggled gun to kill Bennet and Peterson before almost destroying the K1."
"What? That's bullshit! I'll tell them I don't know what happened! They'll have to believe me."
"Do you want to take that chance? And not everyone with an American flag on their lapel is your friend."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Part of the reason Bennet and Peterson died is because not everyone can be trusted."
"Why are they dead?" I remember the black square in my pocket. "What did Peterson give me?"
"You'll live longer if you don't know."
"Fuck you!"
"Rotate your heat shield towards the K1 now!"
"What?" I reflexively spin the Unicorn so the nose is towards Earth and the heat shield is facing the station.
There's a flash on the heat shield sensor display. A portion of the underside is getting ridiculously hot.
"What the hell is that?"
"The K1 just fired a laser at your ship. Start your reentry now if you want to live."
"Let me get a message to Nashville."
"They can't help you."
I watch the temperature climb on the heat shield. There's a red line point at which they can do permanent damage and I won't be able to land.
If I hadn't turned when the voice told me, I'd already have a hole in the hull. If I survived the explosive decompression long enough to get my visor down, I'd still be stranded in space and my only chance of rescue would be the Russians who just shot at me.
"Do it now, David." The electronic voice somehow conveys the sense of urgency.
Fuck it. My life is over either way. I punch the button on the screen and the ship's rockets begin to fire.
The K1 recedes behind me but the heat shield sensor stays steady.
My trajectory still keeps my heat shield towards the station. At this altitude, I need about three minutes before the station is beyond the horizon and its laser is out of reach.
After four minutes the reading goes back to normal and I rotate the ship towards atmospheric reentry.
They tried to kill me. The damn Russians tried to kill me!
The reentry profile has me doing an aggressive loop around the earth, slowing down in the upper atmosphere before beginning a steep drop over the Southern hemisphere, landing somewhere around the southern part of Brazil.
"Brazil? What the hell?"
"Would you prefer Africa or India?"
"I'd prefer Cape Canaveral."
"You won't make it to the ground. And if you do, through some small miracle, you'll never make it out of an interrogation room."
"Jesus Christ."
"David. I need you to follow my instructions very carefully. We only have a few minutes before we'll lose signal. First, give that chip to Wallman. Only him. Nobody else can be trusted."
"Who the hell is he?"
"He'll find you. What matters most right now is your survival. Go to the trunk and pull out Peterson's bag."
I tuck the phone into my helmet, unhook my harness and drift over to the cabinet. There's a large black duffle bag inside.
I place it into my old seat under the harness and take Bennet's console. "Now what?"
"The Russians are going to figure out that you're taking a different reentry path. They won't be able to re-task the kill-sats fast enough, but they will be able to send long-range MiGs to intercept you in the air. They will fire upon you if you're over the ocean or an uninhabited area."
"Well, fuck."
"We have to land the Unicorn in a bay."
"Jesus Christ."