“No. It’s not like that. When that happens… people stop looking human to me. They—you—look like monsters. I’m not angry, I’m repulsed.” Catherine ran her hands the length of her face. “I really could hurt someone like this.”
“You’re not going to.” A course of action was slowly taking shape in his mind. “Because we’re going to keep an eye on you.”
“ ‘We’—you believe me?”
Time for a few confessions of his own. “I’ve been looking into what might have happened—strictly off the books. There are… a few anomalies.”
“How do you mean?”
“Hang on. Come into the living room.” He led her there and sat next to her on the couch so they could both see the screen. He pulled up the telemetry reports he’d received. “Look, right here. Here are the readings from the ship shortly after the explosion.”
Catherine leaned in to the screen. “That can’t be right. That’s too high.”
“Look at the CO2 and oxygen. It’s about right for two people.”
“I wish I could confirm it for you.” She shook her head and sat back, looking at him. “You really do believe me. Why?”
He gestured at his laptop. “Your story fits the data I have so far. It explains some of the strangeness I’ve seen in you. It makes more sense than the story you told us initially.” He should tell her about the antibody, but he didn’t want to frighten her. She’d had a bad enough night as it was. Instead he groped for something to explain the gut feeling he had. “Plus, there’s no real reason for you to lie to me about this. The bosses at NASA are happy with your story. And—frankly—they’re not listening to me.”
“You’ve talked to them?”
“To Aaron. If it makes you feel any better, he threatened to fire my nosy ass over it.” He gave her a small smile. “I was the only holdout, and I can’t do anything to you. There’s nothing to be gained by giving me a new story. It’d just be more ammunition—if I were still looking for ammunition.”
“I get that Aaron wants this story to go away, but why the hell would he threaten your job?”
Cal ducked his head. “I… might’ve stretched a few rules while I was investigating.” He looked up to see suspicion in her eyes, and found that it stung more than he thought it would.
“Cal, what were you doing at NASA in the middle of the night?” Catherine asked suddenly. “The night you saw me there.”
Paperwork. He’d lied and told her paperwork, that he’d been working. He stood at a crossroads. She’d just told him the truth, as much of it as she knew. Didn’t he owe her the same? “That’s one of the ways I overstepped.” There was no way to make this sound okay. “I, um— I followed you there.”
“Followed me?”
God, he didn’t want to have this conversation. “From your house.”
“What were you doing at my house?” She didn’t sound angry, yet. Just puzzled.
“Um. Watching you.”
Catherine shook her head. “Why the hell would you be watching my daughter’s graduation party?”
“I didn’t know there was going to be a party.”
“So you… what, sat outside my house? What were you expecting me to do?” Now there was a flash of irritation. “I had a houseful of people, I wasn’t exactly going to go on a rampage.” She paused, her eyes widening. “Were you in my yard?”
He knew exactly what she was talking about and did his best to look apologetic. “I was there when you were saying good-bye to Leah Morrison.”
“Jesus Christ. I’ve already spent months thinking I was going insane. Thinking I was being watched didn’t help.”
“At least you weren’t imagining things.” It sounded lame as he said it, but she gave a startled laugh.
“You’re an asshole, you know that?” She was grinning as she said it. There was the Catherine he saw at the party. The one he wished he’d met sooner.
He grinned back. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”
Some of the tension dissolved. Catherine looked worlds better than she had when she first came in. Her shoulders sat lower, her face was less tight.
“Hey,” he said, “if I hadn’t followed you, we might not know you ever went to NASA.”
She sobered. “I wonder how many times I’ve gone there without anyone knowing.”
“We can find out,” he said. “We both want the truth, right?”
“I do. I don’t care how bad it is. I have to know. Not knowing is driving me mad.”
“All right. We’ll work together, okay?” Maybe it was too soon for him to be optimistic, but with Catherine giving him information instead of hiding it, surely they’d find some answers.
Catherine stifled a yawn against the back of her hand. “Thank you. I think— I think I’ve been sitting on this for too long.”
“Wait, I have some questions for you. I’ve got some printouts in my office that you need to see. Maybe you can help me make sense of them.” He jumped up, not waiting for her to nod, and left the room. He flipped on the lights in his home office and rummaged for the transcripts he had of her original debriefings, especially the sections he’d highlighted.
“Okay,” he said, coming back in. “When you were interviewed the first time, you said—” Cal stopped. Catherine lay on her side on his couch, eyes closed. “Catherine?” he said softly.
No answer except her quiet breathing.
Cal gathered up their coffee mugs and took them back to the kitchen. When he returned, she was still sound asleep. It was close to 3:00 a.m., and he didn’t have the heart to wake her. He fetched a blanket from the hall closet and draped it over her, turning off all the downstairs lights except one dim one in the hallway. He may as well go back to bed, too. They would have plenty to talk about later.
25
CATHERINE OPENED HER eyes and realized two things at once: the headache she’d been waking up with every day for weeks was gone, and she had no idea where she was. She sat up on the unfamiliar couch, pushing off the blanket, and then it came to her. Oh God, she’d fallen asleep on Cal Morganson’s couch. This was going to be the weirdest walk of shame in the history of Houston.
She swung her legs over the side of the couch and rubbed her eyes before running her hands over her hair. She was a wreck, no doubt. Wreck or not, that was the best sleep she’d had in weeks. Her head felt clearer than it had in… well, in a long time. Cal believed her. Someone else knew the truth now. That on its own was enough to make her feel less crazy, less alone.
As she tried to finish waking up, she realized just what a mess her life had become. The drinking, the way she was avoiding everyone, her relationship with Aimee. For the first time in ages she felt like it was a mess she might be able to clean up. She needed to get home and start making some phone calls.
Cal came out of his kitchen, freshly showered and dressed for work. She hated him a little for looking neat while she was sitting there with dirty hair and morning breath and clothes she’d been wearing for days.
“Hey,” he said. “Look who’s up.”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to crash here.”
“Don’t worry about it. You looked like you could use the sleep. Probably safer than you trying to get home, as late as it was.” He smiled and she hated him more—it figured he was a morning person.
“Thank you.”
“Can I get you some coffee? I promise it’s not leftovers from last night.”
“No, thank you. I should— I should get home.” She stood up, and the room didn’t spin. She really was feeling better this morning.
“Are you sure? It’s no trouble.”
“No, really. I have some things I need to fix.”