Somebody Else's Space Program
---
Chapter Sixty Eight, continued (third segment)
The second night. There was a package on Ross's bed, elaborately wrapped in a rich brocade, with the mark that meant that it had been scanned by Security.
Ross picked it up. Not a tape, or at least not just a tape, not from the weight. As he disturbed the folds of fabric, a spicy scent wafted up. A paper-wrapping under the cloth . . . Ross opened it carefully. Some of the flaky sweet-sticky-spicy confection that Envyss loved, that Ross could take only in small dosages. Ross smiled, touched the sweet, put his finger to his lips.
"You keep eating that stuff, and Meds will downcheck you for certain."
"Not as long as I keep my exercise program going. Which means making sure you have the energy to keep up with me. So you should eat some, too." And Envyss had playfully pushed a piece against his partner's lips.
Ross broke off a small piece of the pastry, put it into his mouth, letting it dissolve slowly. The tip of his tongue to clean his lips -- one piece was more than enough. He found an empty tin to store the rest of the confection in . . . Something on the kitchen counter -- another bundle that hadn't been here this morning. This one was also Security-marked, but wrapped in a scrap of thin aluminized plastic instead of cloth.
Ross smiled. Had Envyss arranged a series of gifts as a game? Were there more packages waiting? Ross slit the tape on the silver wrapping . . . there was a small book inside, no title on the spine or cover. The book was covered in a padded leather, dyed a deep blue. The edges of the paper were gilded over a red dye.
A bookmark -- a thin ribbon of blue satin. Ross opened the book to the marked page, had to turn it over to read it. Envyss's handwriting . . . Ross thumbed through the rest of the book -- it was _all_ handwritten -- before returning to the marked page.
"My father spoke to me today. He has asked me to pick from among his favorites for my first night, and it is a great honor, but there is no one here . . . I know the color and the shape and the sound of what I want . . . My father does not know about the recordings, or he'd have them destroyed.
"Oh my golden one, do you still live? No one will tell me. My father is outraged that I want an outlander. My mother has not answered my letters, but I believe my father has ordered they not be delivered to her.
"So I wait, until I can return to the capital, and look through the records there, talk to my mother . . .
"How you shone in the sun."
Ross closed the book and put it carefully on the countertop. His hand touched the smooth leather. His other hand reached for the phone. "Mission Control."
"Ross here. News?"
"Everything's nominal. They're both awake -- do you want me to patch you through?"
"Please."
Envyss's voice, through some static, "Ross? Is there a problem?"
Ross suddenly realized he really _didn't_ want to talk about the presents over an open channel. "No . . . there was a complaint about the food seeming bland because so much of taste is related to smell and the air system on board isn't like earthside. Have you noticed anything?"
"Sweetness stays the same. Spices . . ." Envyss's voice developed a hint of a purr as he realized what his partner was hinting at, "Things need to be made spicier here. Or we're all going to be losing weight from not finishing our desserts."
"Yes. No, just a final check-in before I headed to bed. CapCom, you can have them back now. Thank you."
Ross picked up the book... carefully locked it into the safe. He didn't know how explicit Envyss was going to get in later pages, but it certainly wasn't for the casual perusal of a guard.
---
In bed, staring at the ceiling, a report in hand from Maceyka's space agency on an inconsequential satellite launch, something that had put him to sleep a dozen times already but no such luck tonight. He shifted his position, felt something under his head? Under the pillow?
This time it was a tape, only the Security mark on it. Ross wondered if Security had had instructions on where to plant these presents, or if the items had been cleared by Security and placed by someone else.
The tape player was in the living room, but Ross wasn't getting any sleep anyway. He got up, stopped in the kitchen long enough to get a small glass of juice and a bit of confection, and settled into the big recliner. The other tape was still in the player -- Ross popped it out and slid the new one in. Press "Start" . . .
A single voice, singing. Ross thought it was Envyss, but some of the pronunciations were not quite on, the voice was just a little deeper than Envyss usually sang at. And it was a collection of love songs, fairly harmless ones, if you didn't try to think of who was listening.
Ross drifted off, listening.
---
Meds met Ross outside his door the next morning, also dressed to run. "Should I check your blood sugar this morning?"
"I didn't eat that much of it." The guards lagged behind so the two men could talk. "Is there another round of gifts for tonight?"
"I'm not authorized to tell you anything about that. Did you listen to both sides of the tape?"
Ross stopped. "No. I fell asleep. Is it important?"
"I don't know. I was told to ask."
"I see." Back to running. "I'll take time at lunch and listen, if you need to give him an answer."
"Good enough." A few hundred yards, "What was in the third package?"
"Excuse me?"
"There was a third package, it was in the kitchen. Another tape?"
"I don't remember seeing it."
Ricamonte grinned.
---
Shower and a change of clothes. Ross picked up the pair of tapes . . . and put them into the safe with the book. Then down to Mission Control for the overnight reports and breakfast.
"We've had some computer glitches this morning, as we're working on trial setting for re-entry. Since we won't be de-orbiting until tomorrow, we've been working to fix it."
Ross snarled, "And why wasn't I notified when it happened?"
"You were on your way back in from your run. We were still running through routine checks when you arrived. None of the standard diagnostics worked to fix the problem."
Ross waved Ireomela over to his console. "Take over as CapCom while I deal with this."
Onto the phone, and Ross cursed the delay as the international operator took his time connecting. "Drum, I need you to run some numbers for me."
---
Stacks of paper, numbers scribbled on them. Ross read the numbers over the phone to Drum who plugged them into his computers. "Are you sure about that last batch?"
"I'll have them check. Hold on."
Ross moved back into the CapCom seat. "Nara, I need you to read me the numbers again." One by one, Ross named an instrument, Narayana gave him a number. "All right. I'll be right back." He slid over one console to where a phone had been installed, and read the numbers off to Drummond.
"Working. Those fit. Here are your settings:" Drummond read off numbers, and Ross repeated them to check.
"Thank you."
"Should I keep the line open?"
"Yes. We might need you again."
---
Numbers read up to the capsule and back in confirmation. "Only one way to find out if they work. Do you want an early re-entry, Director?"
Ross sat back in his chair. "The numbers are for a re-entry tomorrow, with that consumable level. We could dump weight . . ." He leaned forward to the microphone. "Narayana, Envyss."
"Roger, Mission Control?"
"Do we bring you home before something else goes wrong or do you want to stay up for the scheduled time?"
Whispers in the capsule that might be clear on the voice recorder but didn't make it down the radio waves. "The vote up here is split."
And phrasing it that way meant they weren't going to say who wanted which option, either. "I see. We'll leave you up there for a while, then, but if anything else goes wrong, you're coming down."
"We understand."
---
Ross didn't even try to go to the apartment that night. Someone brought cots in and put them in one of the press rooms for the senior staff. And Meds had to threaten to take Ross completely off the project unless he at least left the control room and tried to sleep before he would leave the station chair.
"There's a tape I need to listen to."
"Tomorrow. You don't want everyone else to hear it, and if you go back to your apartment, you won't sleep. It can wait."
---
All through the night Ross woke up every time someone else came in to sleep. He gave up at 0600 and straggled out for a large cup of coffee. "Report?"
"Nothing new. They're awake if you want to talk to them."
"Let the caffeine kick in first."
Ricamonte studied Ross. "I'm not letting you send him up again. Not while you're Director."
"That's not fair to him."
"He's replaceable, you aren't, not right now. I don't dare slap a blood pressure cuff on you right now -- you know what I'd find, and what I'd have to do."
"You'd have to pull me from the job, and then that would create stress upstairs where you can't do anything about it. Let's get them down, then we'll talk. If he wants another mission, I'll have my deputy handle it -- you can keep me sedated for the whole trip if necessary."
"The missions keep getting longer. Keeping you calmed by drugs the whole time would damage your body as much as the stress will damage your mind."
"Let's get them down," Ross repeated.
---
When Ross picked up the headset, he heard Envyss laughing. He just sat and listened. Narayana had just apparently finished telling a joke. "Good morning, children."
Narayana chirped, "Good morning, grandfather." In the background, Envyss laughed again.
"We're bringing you down today. How many of the experiments were you able to get done?"
Numbers reeled off, checked against a list. "We had to take some time out to deal with the computers. Thank Dr. Drummond for us."
"I did. Do you have some new numbers for me?"
New numbers matched what Drummond had come up with. "Looks good. Flight? Anything to add?"
Hlukayrn took his time going over the figures. "Looks right. Bring them home."
---
All the figures were checked and rechecked. This was no time to let fatigue destroy the mission, the people. Narayana announced, "Ready for re-entry burn."
Flight said, "You're go for re-entry burn."
Ross whispered, "Do it."
Flight nodded, and took the headset away from Ross. "Pilot, bring her down."
"Roger, Mission Control."
---
Ross closed his eyes and let the noise flow over him. That was exactly the wrong time to freeze up, a critical point...
Someone was putting a cup of warm liquid into his hand, something that didn't smell like coffee. "Drink it."
Chocolate, heavily laced with whiskey. "I can't drink this right now."
"You can, you're going to, or I'll feed you a pill. Then you'll go up to your station as Director and let us bring them in."
"Yes, Doctor." A sip, then a gulp. It burned a bit going down, then Ross could feel his muscles start to unknot. "I better get some food into me if I want to stay upright."
"Good idea." Ricamonte took the cup, replaced it with a breakfast sandwich. "Eat."
Three bites, then juice instead of chocolate. "Where are we on the re-entry?"
"About to enter the blackout period. All of the figures are spot-on."
Ross nodded, looked at the big clock. Telemetry went to pure noise...
---
"Mission Control, this is Dual Five. We can see the pickup ship."
"We see you, too. Come on home. Try not to land on the ship, though."
"Roger, Mission Control."
---
"They're on the copter. Do you want to talk to them?"
"Yes." Ross took the offered headset. "Ross here."
Envyss's voice, "We got back in one piece."
"Good. When do you think you'll be back here?"
"The ships's doctor wants to watch us overnight, because of the length of the mission. You can override that."
Ricamonte nodded. "We need to observe them here."
Ross said, "Come home."