“They’re just trying to protect their home from a perceived threat,” Catherine said. She started to go on, but Cal gave a little shake of his head. He’d spent more time pondering Lindholm’s question than he would’ve cared to confess to Catherine.
“We can’t know for certain,” Cal admitted. “But consider this: whatever has been compelling Catherine to do the things she’s done, whatever’s resulted in the periods of lost time, there have been no new attempts since we stopped their original plan to trigger Longbow. As it is, it’s like we’ve thwarted Catherine’s programming and things have stalled out. Perhaps similar to what Commander Addy experienced.”
“Hmm.” Aaron furrowed his brow.
“They’ve made it clear they don’t want us on their planet.” Cal leaned on one of the bookcases lining the walls. “Until we have a clearer way to communicate with them, and… and a plan, we need to steer clear.”
“You’re talking about us losing years of work,” Aaron said. “And a mission abort is going to cost millions, which we’ll then have to explain to the American people.”
“But… first contact,” Catherine broke in. “I think that’s going to be bigger news than scrapping a mission.” She addressed Lindholm. “This is exactly one of the things we hoped to do with the Sagittarius missions. This is ‘Mission Accomplished’ in one hell of a big way, Director.”
Lindholm looked thoughtful, and Cal could see the headlines he was writing for himself in his mind. “Still,” he said, “it wasn’t exactly a positive experience.”
“A cultural misunderstanding,” Cal said. “That’s been an issue with humanity ever since we first started bumping into one another. That’s why it’s so vital that we get it right this time.”
He had them, he could feel it. Llewellyn especially. Aaron believed him, finally. He met Cal’s eyes and actually looked a little ashamed. Cal wanted to rush ahead, to say something else, but elected to stay quiet and let them continue to convince themselves.
“We need to talk about this,” Lindholm said. He glanced at Llewellyn, who nodded in agreement. “If you two can wait outside my office, give us a few minutes?”
“Sure,” Cal said.
The lobby was empty and the two of them sat side by side in the guest chairs. “It went well.” Cal wanted to take her hand, as much for his sake as for hers, but refrained. They’d agreed to keep their personal connection to themselves for now.
“I feel like I’m sitting outside the principal’s office,” Catherine muttered.
“As long as we don’t get expelled, I’m happy.”
The minutes ticked by, enough of them that Cal started getting restless. He fought the urge to pace, not wanting to show any sign of his growing anxiety, not to Catherine, and not to Lindholm when he called them back in.
As the office door opened, Cal stood calmly and Catherine did the same. Lindholm didn’t invite them to sit after he closed the door behind them. Hopefully that meant this would be short. Hopefully that was a good sign.
“Catherine, I’ve said all along that the ordeal you went through was unimaginable, and now, with all the details…” Lindholm shook his head. “It’s a testament to your strength that you’re standing here.” The intercom on his desk buzzed. Lindholm hit the button and said, “Come on in.” To Catherine he said, “I’m very sorry.”
Before either of them could ask what for, the office door opened, and three security guards came in. Two of them took Catherine by the arms.
“Paul, what’s going on?” Catherine struggled, panic rising as she met Cal’s eyes.
“Look at this from our perspective. You’ve told us that you killed Tom Wetherbee. You’ve confessed to attempting to sabotage an ongoing mission—and we even have an eyewitness.” Lindholm nodded to Cal. “That alone would warrant taking you into custody. And if your theory is correct, if you are under the control of a hostile alien entity… I’m sorry, Catherine. This is for your safety as well as ours.”
Oh God. Cal should have seen this possibility. He’d been so sure his evidence was overwhelming… How did he not foresee this? “Don’t do this,” he said.
Catherine’s movements grew more and more frantic as she struggled with the guards. “You can’t do this. My family will want to know where I am. Where are you taking me?” The words came out in quick succession, as if she could prevent this just by saying the right thing.
“We’re going to put you under quarantine for now, until we’re certain you’re no longer a potential danger.” Lindholm nodded at security, who started to take Catherine out.
“Cal! Tell them I’m okay.”
The look in her eyes, the fear, cut him deep. He turned to the other two men. “This can’t be legal.” Aaron Llewellyn wouldn’t meet his eyes. Lindholm looked determined.
“It is,” Lindholm said. “We’re authorized to quarantine any astronaut who might have brought back any sort of threat from a mission.”
“But what about my crew—”
“Cal,” Aaron interrupted gently, “go home. We’ll figure out the best way to deal with this on our own.”
To the third security officer, Lindholm said, “Please escort Mr. Morganson to the front door.”
Cal looked back at Catherine, who was quickly going from desperate to resigned. She saw the truth as clearly as he did. They were almost out of time to stop the mission, and now they were out of chances, too.
37
AS CELLS WENT, Catherine supposed this one was comfortable. The bed wasn’t bad, the toilet wasn’t exposed, and she suspected some staff member or other was making the home-cooked meals that showed up three times a day.
None of that changed the fact she was a prisoner somewhere in the depths of Johnson Space Center, or that everyone who came to see her was forced to go through a ridiculous routine of hazmat suits and decontamination, as if she hadn’t been walking around freely for months.
The first time they’d brought her food in, she’d laughed. “Seriously?” She recognized the staffer in the suit. “I sat next to you in meetings every week. Don’t you think you would have caught something by now?”
If the excuse for holding her was that she needed to be quarantined, then NASA needed to follow quarantine protocol to the letter. It was almost darkly humorous to watch the charade.
At least they let her have some visitors. The second day she was there David showed up at her door right after breakfast.
He gave her an awkward hug through the hazmat suit. “Catherine, what the hell is going on?”
“Is Cal okay?” It was the one question that had been eating her alive. She didn’t know if he’d been fired—or worse. Was he sitting in a cell, too?
“Morganson? I haven’t seen him. Tell me what happened!”
Each time she told her entire story, it got a little easier. She’d been so concerned about being believed—about what other people would think—she’d never stopped to consider how telling the whole story would make her feel free.
“I’ll see what it will take to get you out of here,” David said. “Do you want me to hire a lawyer?” He didn’t say a single word about aliens, or first contact. Whether he believed her or not, he was still the man with the practical solutions.
“Please. I need to get out of here.”
“Catherine, I meant a criminal defense lawyer. They could charge you with killing Tom. With all of them, even.”
It wasn’t that Catherine was unaware of the danger she was in. They could charge her with whatever they’d like, as long as she and Cal managed to bring back Sagittarius. Six people might well die, or worse, because they had failed.