It didn't matter. She would never see anything familiar again.
During reentry, Reed had kept the communications channels switched off. He didn't think he could bear listening to Harry Landon's whiny questions and expressions of concern. Nor did he want to be distracted from what lay ahead. Positioning himself in front of the exit hatch, he punched in the alphanumeric code that shot back the bolts. But the hatch still had to be opened from the outside.
Reed glanced down at the pants pocket in which he'd placed the vial of variola. Suddenly, he wanted very much to be rid of it.
Come on! he thought impatiently.
He felt the orbiter shift slightly. Then a second time. He imagined he could hear the hiss of air as the cocoon mated itself to the shuttle. Anxiously he looked at the overhead display panel. A green light appeared, indicating that the mating was complete.
Reed was changing frequencies on his suit radio when, without warning, the hatch opened and retracted and he found himself looking straight at the masked face of Dr. Karl Bauer.
“You!” he cried.
The original plan had called for Bauer to wait for Reed on the quarantined side of the decontamination chamber. But with Richardson and Price out of the picture, Bauer had decided to improve upon his scheme. Working the levers on the pedestal-mounted control panel, he raised the cocoon so that its open end mated with the shuttle. Once the seals were in place, he took a moment to slip into his new role, then opened the hatch. He almost smiled when he saw Reed's startled expression.
“What are you doing here?” Reed demanded. “What's wrong?”
Bauer motioned him to step back so that he could enter.
“Richardson is dead,” he said bluntly. “So is Price.”
“Dead? But how could ??”
Bauer began to mix in the lies. 'The president knows. about the virus.
Even through his protective faceplate, Bauer saw how badly Reed paled. “That's impossible!”
“It's true,” Bauer replied. “Now listen to me. There's still a way out for us. Are you listening?”
Reed's helmet bobbed as he nodded.
“Good. Now give me the sample.”
“But how will we ??”
“Get it out? Me. Listen, Dylan. I haven't a clue as to how much Castilla and his people really know about Richardson and Price. Maybe they've already connected you to them. But we can't afford to take the chance that they have. If you're searched, it's all over. But they wouldn't dare lay a finger on me.”
“What's going to happen to me?” Reed demanded, his voice panicky.
“Nothing. You have my word on that. By the time this is over, you'll be the hero, the only survivor of a mission gone tragically wrong. Now give me the sample.”
Carefully Reed reached into his pocket and handed over the vial. He jumped back as Bauer calmly opened it and poured out the fatal contents on a stainless-steel counter.
“Are you crazy?” he screamed. “That's all we have!”
“I didn't say that we wouldn't take a sample,” Bauer replied.
He pulled out a swab and a tiny, ceramic capsule, the size of a vitamin capsule. Bending over the puddle he had just created, he brushed the swab in the fluids, broke off the tip, and sealed it in the capsule. Reed watched, puzzled. He couldn't quite snare the purpose of the capsule.
“You're going to carry it out like that?” he asked. “What about the decontamination process?”
“The ceramic will protect the sample,” Bauer replied. “After all, that's what the plates on the underbelly of this craft are made of, to preserve the shuttle from the heat of reentry. Don't worry, Dylan. It's all part of my new plan.”
Something didn't sound quite right to Reed. “So what do I?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of the scalpel that cut open his suit, slicing all the way to flesh.
“No!” he cried, staggering back.
“Witnesses aren't part of the new plan,” Bauer said. “If I let you come out, the interrogators would tear you apart. And because you are fundamentally a weak man, you would talk. But if you don't survive, then I get to write the final chapter of Discovery's history, sad as it will be.”
Bauer simply sidestepped when Reed made a desperate attempt to grab him. Reed fell and rolled over, then began shaking violently. His body was seized by convulsions that made his spine bend like a bow. Keeping a safe distance, Bauer watched, fascinated, as his creation went about its deadly business. He couldn't take his eyes off Reed for more than a few seconds, not even when he began to arm the autodestruct sequence.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
It won't be the gas jets. Something else… What?
The question echoed in Smith's mind as he hurried under the shuttle's left wing toward the landing gear. Either Bauer didn't know or he had overlooked the fact that there was another way into the craft other than through the cocoon. Smith stepped up on the tires, then moved onto the landing assembly. He popped open a small hatch, reached inside, and pulled down a handcrank. Fitting one end into a slot, he began turning. Little by little, the much larger hatch detached itself from the orbiter.
Pushing the hatch to one side, Smith climbed into the belly of the payload bay located behind the Spacelab. He found himself crouching next to the get-away canisters where unattended experiments and supplies were stored. In front of them was an oval, submarine-type door ? the back entry to the Spacelab.
Inside the Spacelab, Megan Olson stared in horror as the wheel on the rear door spun faster and faster. Leaning against the sled chair, she felt dizzy and nauseated. Even though she'd been strapped in as securely as possible, the buffeting reentry had been extremely jarring. She felt as though her entire body had been pummeled.
It's not too late. I can still get out of here.
Seizing that thought, she'd climbed out of the sled chair and staggered to the door that connected the lab to the tunnel. But after a few minutes of trying, she realized that either she was too weak or the door was locked from the outside.
Fighting back tears, she had tried desperately to think of another way out. Then she had heard the sounds coming from the get-away section of the payload bay.
Why is Reed coming back? And why that way?
Frantically Megan looked around for something that might serve as a weapon, but found nothing. She heard the hiss of a seal breaking. As the door swung back, she moved to the side, raising both arms over her head. Surprise would be her only defense against Reed.
First a leg appeared, then a pair of arms. As soon as Megan saw the helmet, she started to bring down her arms. Then, in that split second, she realized that it wasn't a space suit, but one designed for biohazard work. She managed to stop her swing just as the figure looked up at her.
“Megan!”
She tried to grab Smith but her gloved hands slipped off his suit. The next instant he was holding her by the shoulders, his helmet bumping hers, their faceplates touching. She couldn't take her eyes off his. She leaned against his shoulder and wept for everything that, only moments ago, seemed to have been snatched away, and was now restored. She pulled back a little so that she could look at him.
“How did you know?”
“They heard you in mission control. Not much got through, but enough so they knew you were alive.”
“So you came for me…”
They stared at each other, then Smith said, “Come on. We've got to get out of here.”
“But Reed?”
