There had been no more lost time or voices since she and Cal had come back from Arizona. As long as Iris’s “wall” held, Catherine didn’t think there would be again.
Cal. Their relationship was in a strange sort of limbo. They were in constant contact, and he often spent the night at her place, but they hadn’t talked about what they were to each other. There just didn’t seem to be any time, life was moving so quickly.
For the first time since she and David had announced their divorce, Aimee was coming over to spend part of the weekend with her, one last visit before she went off to college.
So really, it should have been a happy time for Catherine. But there was one major problem.
She and Cal were running out of time to put together a solid case to persuade NASA to abort Sagittarius II, and she was no longer sure they could do it. It seemed obvious; she had her memories, Cal had his data… but NASA had ignored Iris Addy. They could ignore her, too.
They hadn’t talked about what the two of them would do if their plan failed. She knew from Cal’s earlier comments that pushing this theory of theirs would end up with his losing his job, maybe his career, if their colleagues didn’t believe them. Her future was a little hazier. She was a much more public face for NASA, but then again, they hadn’t hesitated to push out Iris.
They had to move ahead with what they had. If they waited too long, hoping for some new concrete evidence to turn up in the data Cal was scouring, Sagittarius would be through the wormhole and it would be too late to bring them back.
She parked her car and unloaded her groceries. This was her last few days with Aimee before she went to school. When Aimee got to her apartment, she looked outraged. “Do you know what the temperature in Cambridge was last night?”
Catherine laughed, opening the door and pulling her into a hug. “Is it already winter back east?” she teased.
“No, but do you know how much snow they got last year?”
Catherine couldn’t help but grin. “I thought you wanted to go someplace where it snowed.”
“Not that much!”
“So what I’m hearing is that we should go shopping for some warmer clothes before you leave.”
“Sweaters. Lots of them.”
They cooked dinner together, just a simple meal, but it felt good to do something normal. Aimee didn’t comment on the lack of wine bottles in the apartment, but Catherine was sure she noticed.
While they were eating, Catherine decided it was as good a time as any to dive in and talk to Aimee. Toying with her fork, she said, “I wanted to tell you a little more about what was going on the past few months, if you’re up for hearing it.”
“Mom, you don’t have to worry about it. I’m not mad at you anymore. I know you were going through a lot.”
“I know, but I’d like you to know. I know more now than I did then.” She held her breath and waited.
Aimee’s eyes widened. “Your memories are coming back?”
“A lot of them have, yes.” She’d talked to Cal about how much to tell Aimee, and ultimately decided to tell her only the bare bones of the story, for now.
“Do you know what caused the explosion, then?” It was fascinating—and disconcerting—to see in her daughter the combination of worried family member and budding engineer/scientist. Catherine half expected her to start taking notes for future projects.
“It was sabotage.”
Aimee blanched. “What? Who? Mom, oh my God!”
Catherine raised her hand to quiet Aimee. “I know. Tom Wetherbee had some sort of breakdown.” She paused, debating saying more, then pushed ahead. “It was just luck that I was outside at the time.”
A number of emotions flickered across Aimee’s face: fear, worry, relief. “How long have you known that?”
Catherine seesawed her hand. “Not very long; a few weeks.”
“And the drinking…”
“Trying to keep it from coming back, I think,” she admitted. “Aimee, I’m so sorry you got caught up in the mess of me trying to get through all this. You deserved better from your mom.”
Aimee pursed her lips, thoughtful before replying. “I did deserve better, but I also know you were doing your best. So how can I fault you?”
It was such a calm, adult, forgiving statement that Catherine’s eyes stung with tears. She leaned around the table and pulled Aimee into a hug. “Thank you. I am so proud of you, of the woman you’ve become.”
“Mom.” Aimee squirmed away from the compliment.
“I’m your mom, I’m allowed to be sentimental,” Catherine teased.
They spent the rest of the evening watching movies and making plans to go shopping before Aimee left for school. The next afternoon, Aimee headed back home to David’s house. Once the apartment was quiet again, Catherine settled on her couch with a long, contented sigh. She had a bit of peace before a lot of craziness to come. She and Cal were going to tell NASA soon. She had no idea what to expect from them, if anything. If they believed her, and aborted the mission, the PR would be terrible, and they’d have to do a lot of damage control. But if they didn’t… her career was probably over, and she’d have the possible deaths of six other people weighing on her conscience.
36
PAUL LINDHOLM’S OFFICE wasn’t designed to be intimidating to anyone who entered it. Lindholm was subtler than that. It was calming, relaxing. Cluttered enough to look lived in. It was the sort of place you’d feel comfortable letting down your guard. Talking man to man, really. Cal wondered how many people had fallen for that during Lindholm’s tenure as administrator.
He wondered if he and Catherine were about to.
He’d contacted Lindholm before Labor Day, expecting at best to be put off until Tuesday, but here they were on the Saturday of a holiday weekend. Lindholm was behind his desk, while Aaron Llewellyn sat to the side of it. Cal and Catherine stood in front of them. So far, both men were riveted by the information Cal and Catherine were presenting. Cal talked them through the scientific evidence that indicated Catherine hadn’t been alone on Sagittarius after the Event, and described the foreign antibody that Catherine and Commander Addy both carried.
“Medical can confirm about the antibody?” Lindholm asked.
“That’s who gave me the information, sir.” Cal referred to his notes. “I included a copy of their full report in the packet I gave you.”
Lindholm nodded. “Good, good.”
When neither man could poke sufficient holes in Cal’s data, it was Catherine’s turn.
Using Cal’s evidence as a starting point, she told her story. About why the data looked the way it did. She told them about the lost time here on Earth. That the memories she’d lost on the mission had returned. (But not how—they’d agreed to leave Iris Addy’s role in this out for now.) Finally, she told them about her final confrontation with Tom Wetherbee. And, most important, about her conversation with the alien intelligence.
When she finished, Cal gave her a reassuring smile, then turned to Lindholm and Llewellyn. “We have to abort Sagittarius II,” he said. “We don’t know what we’re sending them into, save that it’s a hostile intelligence with the ability to control some of us.”
Paul Lindholm leaned forward on his desk, eyes bright. “You’re saying that it’s… I don’t know, some sort of parasite, or—or… possession?”