“Yes. And thinking very hard about a lot of what you’ve had to say. Kip, simultaneous translators have been changing your words into, I don’t know, maybe a hundred or more languages. The President, senators, kings, queens, billionaires like Gates—and damn near everyone at this hospital and base—I don’t know of anyone who’s been able to blink or tear themselves away.”
“I was just writing for myself, and… and…”
“And whoever would find that hard drive fifty years from now. I know. We all know. That’s what makes it so incredible. We were watching the real-time thoughts of a doomed man grappling with his fate and his life. And, I might add, a guy who utterly refused to give up. That makes you heroic in my book.”
The physician can see the blood draining from Kip’s face as it begins to sink in. He squints, looking at the doctor for signs that he’s the butt of a joke, then moves back slightly, as if to distance himself from what he’s heard.
“This can’t be true! This
“Four days, Kip. From the very first sentence you wrote—although at first only a few were seeing it live. But all of it was captured and replayed endlessly. Even your first lines where you were saying something about having twenty minutes before you had to turn the ship around, and it was scaring you silly.”
“I don’t believe you! With all due respect, Doctor, I don’t fricking believe you!” He’s gripping the sides of the table now with white knuckles, almost wishing for the security of the spacecraft again.
He struggles to find his voice after long seconds of wide-eyed silence, aware that the doctor has given no sign of suddenly breaking into a grin and saying “April Fool.”
“You’re…
“No, Kip. This is no joke.”
He tries to call up a memory of everything he wrote but it’s impossible, given the stream-of-consciousness that flowed through the laptop. But what he does remember is enough to curl him into a fetal ball.
The doctor is clearing his throat in an unsuccessful effort to refocus Kip’s nearly dilated eyes.
“Kip,” he says at last, “I’d say that right now it’s safe to say that you are probably the most famous living person on Earth. I realize you didn’t intend that to be, and I realize it’s like having the whole world read your diary, but that’s what’s happened. I know it’s going to take you a while for this to sink in so you can come to grips with it.”
“They broadcast everything?”
“Every word. And people were acting on it. For instance, you talked about your employer’s misconduct with that bad batch of antibiotics, and federal indictments have already been issued.”
“Against me?”
He laughs. “No, Kip. Against the guys in your company who did what they did. Hell, man, you’re probably not even aware someone filed your divorce for you?”
“My…
“You wrote out the papers up there and someone printed them out down here and raced to the nearest courthouse, I think in Tucson.”
He feels the room getting a bit fuzzy.
“Well, she’s been interviewed on TV a dozen times, so I’d say she… you okay, Kip?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Kip, breathe deeply a few times. There. Hey, fellow, the world isn’t laughing at you, we all have great respect for you. You needn’t be embarrassed.”
“That’s easy for you to say!”
“What’s amazed all of us is the way you just told the truth about your life and your thoughts and everything.”
“Doc, I feel like I’m standing buck naked in front of the whole world. You know that dream everyone has where you’re suddenly out in public without clothes? But I’m naked in front of the whole planet.”
“Hey, man. One of the greatest things about what you wrote was the glaring truth about your own feelings.”
“But… I mean… how do I deal with this? What the hell do I do now?”
“You already know, Kip. You wrote the answer. You go out there with your head held high and live for yourself, knowing you’re one of the few humans on the planet who’s been truly honest with himself.”
“Yeah. Honest. Any chance the government would let me disappear into the witness protection program?”
“You’ve got a booming voice now, Kip. Use it well. We’re all listening.”
Chapter 46
Suddenly Geoff Shear sees what he’s walked into is an ambush.
He should have been clued in, he thinks, by the others already assembled in the Oval Office, and their tight- lipped response when he was shown the place of honor on the couch. The FBI Director, the Attorney General, and the White House Chief of Staff would not normally be expected to evaluate NASA’s emergency scrub of a shuttle launch.
Nothing sinister had been reported by any of his sources in the last few days, but the fact that Dorothy Sheehan had evaporated has been scratching at him like a strange vibration in an airborne engine, vaguely threatening, though nothing has happened yet.
But now the President has entered with a tight-jawed expression and little more than a glance at him, and Geoff feels his blood running cold.
The President stands behind his desk, not even sitting, a bad sign.
“Geoff, you recall what you personally promised me when I took office and chose to keep you on as head of the agency?”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“I told you above all else, I demand two things. Honesty in communicating any disagreements or distasteful information, and complete lockstep obedience when I’ve made a decision.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’ve violated both. Jim? Hand him the evidence.”
The FBI Director leans over and wordlessly plops a manila folder in Shear’s lap.
“Evidence?” Geoff feels his stomach flip-flopping.
“Yes, Geoff. From the woman you sent to sabotage the rescue mission I ordered by keeping it on the ground. I’m aware you’d never imperil the crew or the vehicle on purpose, but I consider you’ve done just that. She, and you, put at risk more than just my orders, and when you’ve had a look at that folder, you’ll understand why I have a decision to make right now. One, to prosecute you to the fullest extent of federal law in what will be a slam-dunk case, and put your ass in a federal prison; or two, have you resign immediately and preserve the illusion that we know what the hell we’re doing in this office when I and my predecessors appoint someone to high position on the presumption that they’re honest.”
“Mr. President…”
“Don’t even think about oiling your way out of this, Geoff. You’re busted. And you’re going to twist in the wind for the next forty-eight hours while I decide what to do.”
The others are already on their feet, following the President from the room as a secretary appears, quietly motioning a stunned Geoff Shear to an alternate exit.
