“I know,” she said. “But I don’t think they will. I heard someone saying they’re debating bringing me up on espionage charges, but they’re not quite sure how the laws work when the other entity is from another planet. I bet they don’t even do that. Not when they can hold me here indefinitely.” She smiled thinly. “Better PR if I just quietly disappear. So, make some noise and get me out of here.” The only problem was, David wasn’t the type of guy to make noise.
“They can’t just keep you here; quarantine ends at some point, right?”
“I’m a whole new ball game,” Catherine said dryly.
“Then I’m definitely getting you a lawyer,” David said. “You’re not going to sit here and let them figure out how to keep you locked up forever.”
“How’s Aimee doing?”
“She’s shaken, but okay. She’s coming to see you later today.”
“I wish she wouldn’t,” Catherine sighed. “She should be at school, not focusing on me.”
“I know, but it’s her choice.”
“How is she taking this?” She didn’t want to ask but had to know. She and Aimee had made such progress. Would Aimee be angry that Catherine had—yet again—not told her the whole truth?
“She’s worried sick about you. We all are.” There. There was the slightly pitying look. David didn’t believe her, not about all of it.
Their time ended with David promising again to find a lawyer for her. The whole visit was more unsettling than comforting. If David hadn’t seen Cal, then Cal must be gone from NASA—unless he was locked up down here somewhere, too; but even if Cal was free, a visit from him was probably too much to hope for. She doubted they’d let her see him, for fear of some sort of conspiracy.
Aimee arrived during the long, dull hours between lunch and dinner, ushered in with the same routine of hazmat suit and air-lock doors.
“Mom!” Another awkward half hug. “How can they do this? Don’t they know what you’ve already gone through?”
They settled in side by side on Catherine’s bed, and Catherine filled her in on all the things she couldn’t tell Aimee before. Unlike with David, this time Catherine was nervous.
“So… actual aliens?” Aimee’s eyes lit up. “I mean, that must have been awful, but Mom, oh my God, aliens?”
Catherine couldn’t hold back a smile despite everything. “Yeah, I know. It sounds crazy. Which is why I’m here.”
“I can’t believe NASA would do this to one of their own astronauts.” Aimee’s face fell into mutinous lines. “If anyone should understand the possibilities here, it should be them.”
She didn’t know about Iris Addy, and now wasn’t the time for Catherine to tell her. “So you’re not mad that I didn’t tell you sooner?”
“Mom, you work for a government agency. I know there’s stuff you can’t tell me.” Aimee lifted her shoulders in a sheepish shrug. “I might not like it, but I know it’s not your fault.”
“I promise I will always tell you whatever I can.”
“I know you will.” Aimee looked around the featureless cell and shivered. “I never knew that NASA had anything like this.” She turned back to Catherine. “What can I do to help? There’s got to be something.”
Catherine was torn. Aimee should stay far away from this, all of it. She should focus on college, move on with her life. But right now, there seemed to be two people who believed what had happened to her: Aimee and Cal. And Cal was missing. Catherine had to find out what happened to him.
Sensing her hesitation, Aimee said, “Mom, come on. Tell me.”
“There was a man I was working with. Cal Morganson. He helped gather some of the evidence we found.” Again, Catherine found herself on the edge of how much to tell Aimee and backed away from it. Besides, what was she going to call him? He wasn’t her boyfriend, not really. She pushed on. “I don’t know what’s happened to him. I don’t know if NASA has him ‘quarantined’ somewhere or what. Can you find out? Ask your dad; maybe he can help.”
“Do you want me to go talk to him, if he’s okay?”
“No, honey, you don’t need to do that. They’re not going to let me see him, so it doesn’t matter. I just… want to be sure he’s okay.” I want to make sure he’s still out there, that he’s still on my side.
“I will. I’ll let you know what I find out.”
When Aimee’s time was up, Catherine held her as tight as the suit would allow. If she let go, would she ever see Aimee again?
38
EVERY TIME CAL closed his eyes he saw the despair on Catherine’s face as security took her away. He wasn’t sleeping much.
Not that it mattered; with only seven days—at most—to go before Sagittarius II lost radio contact, he had no time to sleep. And it wasn’t like he had anywhere else he had to be. Aaron hadn’t fired him outright, not yet, but he was on an indefinite leave of absence. That might have been a bonus, except that meant he had no way to contact the crew directly. And there was no one at NASA he trusted enough to go around the chain of command and send them a message. So he had far too much time to think. To plan. To look for any pieces he and Catherine might have missed, something so irrefutable that NASA would have to listen.
At least three times a day, Cal picked up his phone. One of the science writers at the New York Times always came to Cal when she needed information on anything aerospace related. She’d be delighted if Cal handed her the scoop of the century, proof not only of alien life but also that NASA was hiding it.
God, he was tempted. With all the information he and Catherine had collected, there was enough to warrant an investigation, enough to put pressure on NASA and get Catherine released.
Would he be viewed as a whistle-blower or disgruntled employee? If this story broke, how badly could it hurt NASA? Paul Lindholm liked to think of this as NASA’s first real golden age since the Mercury and Apollo days, but how fast would the funding dry up if the truth came out? Would NASA ever recover? More to the point, Cal couldn’t help wondering if it deserved to.
He wasn’t ready to give up on NASA just yet. They could still fix this. He just needed more proof of first contact, and he needed it yesterday.
So he kept his coffeepot filled and spent his waking hours in his home office, going over every bit of information he’d gathered on every single aspect of the Sagittarius I mission. There was something here. He just wasn’t seeing it.
A knock sounded at his door. That was the last thing he needed interrupting his thought process.
He ignored it, but after the third flurry of knocks, he muttered and went to answer.
At first, he didn’t recognize the girl standing on his doorstep. She was vaguely familiar; he’d seen her somewhere before, but without any context…
“You’re Cal Morganson, right?” She tilted her head, and Cal realized where he’d seen her. “I’m Aimee Wells. You work with my mom.”
“Yeah, I did—I do.” Cal could only blink at first, and then he broke through his fog. “Is your mom okay?”
“She’s fine—well, as fine as you’d imagine.” She glanced around as if making sure there were no observers. “She sent me.”
Stranger and stranger. Cal swung the door open farther. “Come in.”
She followed him inside and he tried to make sense of it all. Once again, he found himself sitting in his living room with a Wells, and he was baffled. “So you’ve seen her? How is she? I can’t get anybody at NASA to tell me anything. I tried your dad, but he won’t return my calls.”
Aimee grimaced. “I think that’s one reason Mom asked me to come. Dad was ordered not to talk to you.”
That was ominous, but it explained why no one else was returning his calls either. If he was persona non grata with the NASA staff, then his career was over. “But your mom is okay? Is anyone helping her?”