“Yes,” she said softly, and closed her eyes again.
Had he imagined it? Had she really heard him? He fell asleep with questions resonating in his mind.
When he woke in the morning, she was already pulling on her gear. Glenn had a moment of sleepy pleasure, watching her slim form, before he remembered his question-and her answer-from the night before.
She looked down at him. The light fell pale and grey on her face. She looked like the ghost of an angel.
“Yes,” she said. “I said yes.”
“Glenn!” Alena shrieked. “Watch out!”
Glenn jerked back to the present as the Wheel caromed off a boulder and promptly went bouncing across a field. He pulled on his harness and leaned outside of its edge, shortening the bounces on his side and bringing them back on course. They’d been experimenting with a new technique. Each of them leaned out the side of the Wheel, giving a better view of the terrain ahead than through the translucent dust-coated fabric, and allowing them to shift its direction more rapidly by leaning in and out to shift the center of gravity.
“Pay attention!” Alena said.
“I know, I know,” Glenn said. “I’m sorry.”
“What were you thinking?”
“ Tibet,” he said.
Silence for a time. “Oh.”
“Remember?”
“I remember I don’t like losing.”
“We’re making up time,” Glenn said, after a while.
“I know.”
“The others may have problems with the Kite.”
Alena shot him a puzzled look. “Why are you trying to make me feel better?”
The spooks came in the middle of February sweeps, just three months before launch. Jere and Evan were still trying to convince themselves that making the August sweeps would be better than February, but no matter how you garnished it or rationalized it, there would be less access in the summer. Now some of the sponsors wanted guaranteed access levels or kickbacks.
And now this.
“Mr. Gutierrez?” There were two of them, wearing indistinguishable blue suits. One of them wore a cheap black tie, the other a turtleneck. Their eyes were heavy and dead and immobile, and for once Jere was glad that his father was there with him.
He looked at the ID, not seeing the name. It was one of those new fancy holo things that they were trying to sell to everyone, but this one had a big NASA logo and a discreet little eye next to it. He was also wearing a small gold motion-holo pin that flashed and gleamed as the eye morphed into a world and back again. Underneath the holo were the etched letters: USG OVERSIGHT.
“Yes,” Jere said.
Agent #1 turned to his father. “And you, sir?”
“I’m Ron.”
“Ron…”
“Gutierrez.”
“Ah. The father. We didn’t know you had a stake in this.”
“I’m an investor.”
“Ah.”›
Jere held up a hand. “Would you like a seat? Coffee?”
Agent #1 sat. The other remained standing.
“What’s this all about?” Jere asked. “Do you want to buy the program or something?”
“There will be no program.”
“What!” Jere and Ron said, at once.
The agent just looked at them. “We can’t permit the launch.”
“You’re going to stop a launch on Russian soil?”
“When the launch could be part of a terrorist attack, yes, I’m sure the Russians will cooperate.”
“Terrorist! Where do you get that?”
“What if someone was to take over your launch, and turn it back at the US? How big of a crater could he make if it went down on a city?”
Ron’s face was red. “That’s… idiotic!”
“What do you want?” Jere asked.
“We want to prevent any possible attack on the United States.”
Ron nodded, sudden understanding gleaming in his eyes. “ China.”
“Excuse me?”
“ China ’s bitching about our program, aren’t they?”
The agent shrugged. “It is your option to speculate.”
“So what do you want?” Jere said. “How do we launch?”
“You don’t. However, if you turn the program over to us, and allow us to send qualified observers, we would provide proper acknowledgement of your role in this endeavor.”
“We can’t do that!” Jere said. “What about our sponsors? They’ll come for our heads. Hell, the Russian Mafia will come for our heads, too! We can’t just hand this over to you.”
“I’m sure we can placate the Russians. And your sponsors.”
Jere slumped back in his chair. They could do almost anything they wanted. He could be picked up and whisked away and never seen again. He could have everything taken from him piece by piece, a Job job.
Taking their offer might be the best bet. Of course, he’d have to get Evan in on it, but maybe there was some way to profit from it anyway. When you were talking deep pockets, the government had the deepest pockets of all. Maybe they could spin it…
“No fucking way!” Ron said. His face was almost purple. He levered himself up out of his chair and went to tower over the seated agent. The standing one tensed, but didn’t move.
Ron poked a finger in his chest. “We’re not going to Mars to plant fucking flags!”
“Dad…”
“Shut up.” Low and deadly.
“Did the fucking pilgrims come to plant fucking flags?” Ron said. “No! They came to get away from bureaucratic fucks like you! You assholes had your chance. How many billions did we give to you shitpoles? What did we get for it? Our lunar rovers in Chinese museums! A bunch of rusting hardware crash-landed on Mars. Thanks. Thanks a lot. Now it’s our chance!”
Jere watched his dad, open-mouthed. He was frozen in place.
Agent #2 put his hand on Agent #1’s shoulder and whispered something in his ear. Agent #1 nodded and stood up.
“So you refuse to turn over the program?”
“Damn fuckin’ right,” Ron said.
The two swiveled to look at Jere. “And does he speak for you?”
Jere looked at his father. He looked back steadily, intently. He nodded, just a fraction.
“Get out of here,” Jere said.
