slower death.”
“You going to write that book? Have they finalized the contract?”
“I have to. No, wrong answer. I
“So, what are you planning after that?”
“The same thing I want you to do, son. Something I didn’t know how to do. I’m planning to appreciate every minute of this life.”
For some reason he can’t explain, Kip closes his cell phone and finds a phone booth instead. Maybe it’s too many old movies featuring the grand old railway station, or maybe just a need to touch something corporeal, something connected by actual wires. Never mind the fact that his voice in digits is probably bouncing through satellites to reach her phone in California.
“So, what are you up to?”
Diana’s laugh is like music, especially when she’s feigning stress.
“Drowning, I am, in the process of setting up the next Internet contest.”
“How many this time?”
“Four winners.”
“And let me guess, this time ASA is guaranteeing at least four days of stark terror for each one while the world watches?”
“Well… I did take one of your ideas.”
“Which is?”
“They get their own laptop while on orbit and can type directly into their own Web site during the flight. Of course, we just can’t guarantee a two-billion-strong audience like you got…”
“Lucky me.”
“Is the disguise working, by the way?”
“You mean the baseball cap and mirrored dark glasses you FedExed? No. I tried them in Denver two days ago. Four people came over immediately to say they really liked my new look.”
There is a moment of silence.
“You said in your text message you had something serious and professional to ask me?” Diana says.
“I do. But first I want to know when I’m going to see you again.”
“I could e-mail you a picture.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I get a lot of offers, too, Mr. Dawson, thanks to everything you wrote about me.”
She pauses. “How about this evening?”
“Diana, I’m in New York.”
“I know. So am I.”
“
“Turn around.”
The grin on her face as Kip realizes she’s standing right behind him is infectious, and he pulls her to him for a hug that becomes a tentative kiss.
“How did you…”
“I followed you from the publisher’s office. You know, jumped in a taxi and had fun saying, ‘Follow that cab!’”
“This is great.”
“But…” she says, holding him back. “I need to know what that important professional question is you were so hot for me to answer.”
“It’s a serious one.”
“Okay.”
“I mean, considering all I went through up there.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And because I’ve been your poster boy ever since.”
“You’ve done very well for us, Kip, especially considering the various ways we tried to kill you.”
“I’m glad you appreciate the danger I was in.”
“I do.
He glances skyward, then back to her, eye to eye.
“So, when can I go up again?”
Also by John J. Nance
Copyright
Rockefeller Center
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright (c) 2006 by John J. Nance
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
SIMON & SCHUSTER and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Designed by Davina Mock
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Nance, John J.
Orbit / John J. Nance
1. Space flights—Fiction. 2. Space vehicle accidents—United States—Fiction. 3. Space rescue operations—
