He did a sort of glottal stop and looked at her.
“I asked you if NASA knows what you are doing? Do they know you are here?”
Reese waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, they wouldn’t listen to me. They didn’t want to hear. They terminated my employment the first chance they got.”
That was all Jillian needed to hear. “I have to go now, Mr. Reese. If you have something to say to my husband…” She turned and started to walk away, but he followed her like a puppy.
“All I did was show them the facts and they terminated my employment,” he said. “They referred me to a psychiatrist. I told them the facts, Mrs. Armacost, but they could not comprehend it. In fact, they did not want to comprehend it.”
Jillian still marched toward the door trying not to hear, but Reese still followed her.
“Please,” she snapped over her shoulder, “Please leave me alone. Stop following me.”
“I’ve seen Captain Streck’s autopsy report, Mrs. Armacost. He died of a massive stroke. His system overloaded. His body could not take the strain.”
Jillian did her best not to hear. But she could not help but hear the next thing he had to say loud and clear. “I’ve seen Natalie Streck’s autopsy report as well,” Reese said.
That was enough. Jillian stopped and turned on him, the anger showing plain in her face. “Natalie killed herself, Mr. Reese. She committed suicide. I was there. I saw it.”
Reese smiled blandly. “Yes, yes, that’s true. She did kill herself. But… according to the report… when she took her own life she was just three weeks pregnant. Did you know that, Mrs. Armacost? What does that tell you?”
For a moment, Jillian was silent. “What?” she said. “What did you say?”
“She must have conceived just after her husband got out of the hospital,” said Sherman Reese. “She was definitely pregnant, Mrs. Armacost.”
She knew that he was telling the truth and the truth hit her like a hard punch to the face. Jillian started to back away from him. “I don’t want to hear any more,” she said.
“But there is more, Mrs. Armacost,” he said. “There is much more. What do you think happened during those two minutes, when they were alone? What happened?”
Reese was right in her face now and he had pulled a pocket tape recorder out of his suit coat. He was talking fast. “Did you know the space suits your husband and Alex Streck wore had built in recorders? They tape everything they say, everything they hear.” He waved the little black box in her face. “This is a tape of those two minutes.;; those two minutes when they were out of contact.
Jillian stopped and watched, transfixed, as Sherman Reese held the tape recorder high and pressed play.
She heard Spencer’s voice first. “I’m going to rotate the main panel forty-eight degrees. You got me, Alex?”
“Spencer,” whispered Jillian.
Alex Streck’s voice was clear on the tape.”
“Good to go. I need the 9c spanner as soon as… There was a pause and then Streck’s voice came back on the tape. “Spencer? Did you feel that?”
Spencer’s voice was filled with fear. “Alex? Jesus. Alex? What the—”
Alex’s s voice ceased and there was nothing to hear but the hiss of the tape running over the heads. In spite of herself’s Jillian grabbed the recorder and shook it, as if trying to force more sound our of it.
“You heard Streck?” Reese asked. “He felt something. Your husband felt it, too. And what ever it was, it scared the shit out of them. What do you suppose would do that?”
Jillian spoke as if she was reciting an answer learned by rote. “It was an accident. There was an explosion. The satellite—”
Reese shook his head vigorously. “No. They train for explosions. They train for accidents. They train for hundreds of hours. When something goes wrong they have a plan. They do not panic. They do not deviate. They stick to the plan. That’s what they do.” Reese lowered his voice. “Something happened up there that those two men did not train for. What could do that to two highly trained astronauts? Something that would scare them like that… ?”
Jillian’s eyes were wide and she felt fear pulsing in her veins. She started backing away from him, but he grabbed her by the arm and asked the question she had seen avoiding herself. “Can you swear to me he’s still your husband? Can you?”
A security guard wandered into the area’s aware that something strange was going on here.
“Ma’am, is that man bothering you?”
“Yes,” said Jillian. “Yes, he is.”
Jillian pulled her arm away from Reese and pushed by the guard. When Reese tried to chase after her, the man grabbed him and pushed him, back. “Okay, mister, it’s time to leave the lady alone. Understand? No more trouble.” But Reese ignored him.
Sherman shouted after her. “Please, Mrs. Armacost. There’s more. “There’s something else. I have to show you. You have to see it,” Reese yelled.
But Jillian was running for the exit. She looked over her shoulder once and saw the guard restraining Reese. But the guard could not stop his voice from reaching her ears.
“You know,” Reese yelled, “don’t you? You already know that I’m telling you the truth.”
Jillian was going to push through the door when she heard his voice for the last time. “I’m at the Nesbit Arms, Room 323. Please, Mrs. Arrnacost. Please get in touch with me.”
Then she was outside and standing in the street waiting for a taxi. She was still shaking when she got home, but when she put her hand in her pocket for her wallet, looking for money to pay the taxi, she realized she had taken Sherman Reese’s tape recorder with her when she fled from the baby store.
Jillian let herself into the silent apartment and went directly to the most private room in the house, a large walk-in closet that led directly off the bedroom. She sat on the floor of the closet and pressed the play button.
Spencer’s voice was clear. “Alex? Jesus. Alex? What the—” Jillian snapped off the tape reorder. Very methodically, she stood up and took a scarf from a drawer in the closet and wrapped the plastic tape recorder in the material. Then she went to the kitchen and found the hammer they kept in the utility drawer. Then she returned to the closet, sat down on the floor again, and placed the tape recorder in front of her.
She paused a moment, then brought the hammer down on the little plastic box. She smashed it over and over again. And each time she brought the hammer down she said, “No, no, no, no…”
15
The upsetting events had caused Jillian to lose track of time so when she answered the front door of her apartment and found her sister Nan standing on the threshold, all she could do was stare at her, her mouth open. The effect would have been almost comic were it not for the fact that Jillian looked terrible. Since her bizarre encounter with Sherman Reese she had lost that look of sunny good health; there were blue-gray rings under her eyes, her hair was lank, and her shoulders sloped as if weighted down by some unseen burden:
Nan stood there dressed in bright clothes, a big smile on her face. “I’m looking for the pregnant lady in 1 8G,” she almost shouted. Her smile vanished, though, the instant she got a good look at her sister’s gaunt face.
“Oh my God, Jillian. Jillian, what’s wrong?” She dropped her bags and the bouquet of flowers she had been carrying and threw her arms around her sister.
“I’m glad you’re here, Nan,” Jillian whispered. “I am so very glad you’re here. They made some coffee, then settled on the couch in the living room, Jillian filling her sister in on some of the stranger events of the past months. As she spoke, she kept on glancing at the radio on the coffee table, as if it was something like a third set of ears in the room, listening to what she was saying.