Vessel (13 page)

Aleks composed himself, patting his stomach as if to wring out the last few laughs.
'I'm sorry,' he said, his grin wide. 'When we were younger, we used to write secret messages into our dissertations to see who could get the most ridiculous statements published by the university. The best one was Lev's:
I have nothing but contempt for the odious man, Professor Tselner
. Tselner even read the thesis to the class it was so good, but the message always stayed a secret.'

'So there'
s a message in this post then?'

'Yes
— it's right there, clear as day.'

Sean looked
again, leaning in close to scour the text. Frustration was becoming desperation, to the point where he was staring through the screen rather than at it. 'Please just tell me,' he said, despondent.

'Write down the
last letter of the last word of every sentence and tell me what you read. If the last word is a number, write down that number instead.'

Sean
's eyes bobbed up and down as he tried to work it out in his head, but he gave up after a minute and snatched his notepad from the bedside cabinet, almost knocking a stale glass of water over. 'T …' he said as he wrote, '… H …' He continued writing until there were no more words. Then he spaced out the letters, organising them into more a understandable arrangement. He looked at his pad in disbelief.

This key card will give you access to Bales' file. You need to see what's in there. Lives are in danger. Be careful.
User JohnRBales Password USDF1T42

'That old dog …' Sean whispered.
It was no joke after all.

Chapter 14

While
Gardner and Chris worked on Progress, and Novitskiy took care of the station's day-to-day operations, Sally spent her time analysing UV One. Patience was a virtue she was blessed with in abundance, but after four endless days of futile effort, she was beginning to tire. Coupled with the onset of insomnia — weightless sleeping seemed to be evading her, a common problem she'd been told — and life on the station was taking its toll. How she longed for the exhaustion-fuelled sleep she'd had on the first night.

She hadn't been into the MLM
to see UV One since her conversation with Gardner, conducting all her experiments from the Columbus module on the opposite side of the station. As she ran a thirty-second pulse of microwaves one more time before wrapping up for the morning, she decided she could no longer ignore the fact that the only response she'd had from the vessel was when she'd looked at it, deep into its formless shape. The thought made her shiver; in retrospect, what she had experienced in the MLM was more akin to a reaction than an action — as though it knew she was watching it and it was watching her back. Alone in the quiet of the American end of the station, she couldn't be sure that it wasn't looking for her still, and the last thing she wanted to do was to expose herself to it again. She knew in her heart that it was the cause of her insomnia as well, that in her sleeping state she would be vulnerable to — to what? She didn't know. But she could feel it.

The morning shift
over, she affixed her notepad and pen to the wall, logged off her computer and guided her way to the galley at the Russian end. She was hungry, but like every mealtime she felt a nauseating sense of unease as she floated over the downward hatch to the MLM. It yawned at her, open and dark, threatening to suck her down into its belly. Looking forward, she gave a firm kick to propel herself over it, catching herself on the far side next to the food store.

She was alone:
Gardner and Chris were performing an EVA, examining Progress in a survey that seemed to be taking a very long time — 'We need to check absolutely
everything
,' Chris had said — and Novitskiy was — well, she didn't know where Novitskiy was. She only came upon him every now and then, most often crossing paths to and from the galley as he shepherded storage bags along like cuboid sheep, still performing the mission he came here to do in the first place.

The food heate
r pinged. She retrieved the pouch from its hollow and brought it to the table. Steam wafted from its nozzle in that strange micro gravity way as she tore off the cap, and with it came an aroma she still wasn't used to. She couldn't place her finger on what it was, but it was present no matter the flavour, and it clung to the back of her nostrils like mucus. Wrinkling her nose, she tucked in anyway. She'd almost finished half when she froze, nozzle still in her mouth. Was that a noise she'd heard, or had she imagined it? She listened hard, the loud whooshing and humming of the Russian module masking the last essence of detail. Nothing. She carried on eating. But there it was again. It sounded like — like crying. She affixed her meal to the table and tried to trace the source of the noise, following it as it got louder. It seemed to be coming from the next module along, the FGB. But wait — as she neared the downward tunnel to the MLM, the sound changed direction. It was coming from its dark mouth. Chest tightening, she peered into the gloomy hole.

'Hello?' she called, watchi
ng the shadows in its belly flicker.

There was no response, but the weeping had taken on a more three-dimensional quality. It was definitely coming from down there.
Taking a deep breath, she fed herself into the hatch, wide eyes searching as her hands nudged her along rail by rail. As she got further in, she could see a person at the bottom, a small, scruffy-looking man who was pressed up against the glass, looking out into space.

'Novitskiy?'

Novitskiy jumped, spinning around so fast he ended up at a lop-sided angle. He looked around until his eyes met Sally's, blinking as they readjusted to the gloom. His chest rose and fell, his expression strained with terror.

'Sally …' he said, sounding relieved, and he wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeve. 'I didn't hear you come down.'

'Are you okay?' Sally asked, keeping her distance.

Novitskiy sniffed.
'Yes, I'm fine,' he said, looking a little sheepish. 'I'm just feeling a little, ahm, how you might say, "sick for home".'

'Homesick?'

Novitskiy nodded, sniffing again. Over his shoulder, Sally could see the ponderous shape of UV One, following them from a distance.

'Let's get out of here and have some lunch,' she suggested, breaking her eyes from it and back to Novitskiy's own puffy, sodden ones. 'It gives me the creeps down here.'

Novitskiy agreed, and they drifted back up to the galley. Sally prepared some food for him, and they sat at the table and ate together in silence. Sally considered the unkempt man; she couldn't believe this frail thing in front of her was the result of intense selection and training by the RFSA, or any professional organisation for that matter. She considered her words before she offered them to him. 'Do you feel like it's watching you?'

Novitskiy stopped chewing mid-mouthful, swallowed, then took a large gulp of drink.
'I don't know what you mean.'

Despite him trying to avoid her gaze, Sally held it until he
put his pouch on the table and stared straight back. He licked his lips, twitched, then spoke. 'It didn't start like this. It gets worse. It gets worse the longer you stay here. I can feel it
in
me, in my head, picking at every detail of my brain. It's searching for something, but it can't find it, and the longer it searches the deeper it searches and the more it makes me want to —'

He cut himself off, looked back at his food and carried on eating. Sally could see that
he was quivering, although he was trying to restrain himself. 'You should probably get back to work,' he said.

Sally rose from the table,
not breaking her eyes away from him. 'Will you be okay?'

He nodded.
'I just need to be alone. It's easier when I'm alone.'

'Ok
ay,' Sally said, and she deposited her waste and left, gliding over the open mouth of the MLM as fast as she could. As she entered the American section of the station, she was certain she could hear sobbing coming from behind her.

* * *

'Hello?'

Sean swapped the phone from one ear to the other.
'Hi, it's Sean. Just a quick catch-up call.'

'What have you got?'

'Well, I've just had a very interesting meeting with a rather disgruntled friend and employee of the late Lev Ryumin.'

'And?'

'We've cracked the key card.'

'So what can you tell me?'

Sean paused. He had hoped for a bit more praise, but no matter. 'We discovered some coded instructions from Ryumin explaining how to use it.'

'Well
, get on with it then.'

Sean held the phone to his chest and rubbed his forehead. Sometimes he wondered if it was all worth the hassle.
He brought the phone back to his ear. 'Aleks — Ryumin's friend — he has the card. He's going to log in at an RFSA terminal and relay the information back to me.'

'Can you trust him?'

'I think so.'

'And what about this Gardner character? Any more news on him?'

'Any information there is on him that hasn't been deleted will be in Bales' file.'

'Which
you'll access with the key card?'

'Right.'

'Okay, good work. Looks like we're really close on this one.'

A bubble of pride swelled in Sean's chest.
Better late than never. 'Thanks.'

'Talk to you later.'

Sean hung up the phone. Rain continued to batter the window, as it had done since he'd last spoken to Aleks those few days ago. He really did hope he could trust him.

* * *

When Sally awoke, she checked the time to see how long she'd slept, something of a habit she'd developed. To her surprise she'd gone through the night without waking once, and she felt refreshed for it. Wiggling free of her canvas cocoon, she dressed herself and exited her quarters. Finally,
finally
, she was getting used to sleeping in space. Since the guys hadn't yet fixed Progress, she wasn't sure how much longer she'd be sleeping there for, but she was glad that it was making sense to her disorientated brain at last. The mission was supposed to be seven weeks, but she felt sure that no-one here wanted to stay as long as that.

Morning exercise, a
wash and then breakfast, she decided. Stretching her sleep-tightened muscles off the rails as she pulled herself along, she yawned a long yawn that was a sorely missed by-product of a good, deep sleep. Slipping from one module to the next, she breezed along with minimal effort, touching a surface here, a surface there, to keep her direction true. If there were any freeze-dried bananas left, she decided she would have some of those. They were no banana milkshake, but they would make a welcome change from the gungy porridge that seemed all too commonplace on this tin-pot station. Up through PMA One she went, along the FGB and into the service module, where the exercise bike lived. Popping two panel fasteners, she unfurled the spindly contraption, swung her leg over the saddle, snapped the bungees into place over her shoulders and started pedalling.

As the virtual miles passed,
microdots of perspiration became bulging droplets, each forming a glistening, spherical mound over her pores. She checked her watch — seven minutes to go. Lungs burning, she squeezed out the last few revolutions, slowing as she hit her target. Twice a day every day she'd done this, and still it didn't seem to get any easier. Panting, she unstrapped herself from the bike and dismounted, retrieving a towel to dry herself off with. She gripped the towel under one arm while she disassembled the bike, occasional stopping to mop fresh sweat from her brow. Then something caught the corner of her eye, and she looked up. The hatch to the FGB — and the rest of the station — was closed. She hadn't seen or heard it close, yet it was. She attached her towel to the wall and floated over, still not quite believing it. She looked up, and the hatch to MRM Two — the docking port that Romanenko had taken Soyuz from — was also closed. She looked down: the hatch to the MLM was still wide open. The darkness within it seemed to be sucking all the light away, drawing it down into its murky gullet. Bubbling up from its depths like a frothy bile was an energy, fizzing and throbbing, that swelled in time with the heartbeat in Sally's temples. She tried to cover her ears to block the sensation, but it pushed through into her body, into her head, and she squeezed her eyes tight shut. It was a primal fear that gripped her, made her want to shut everything out, but she knew it was no use. She could feel the force guiding her, steering her down, and even with nothing to see but the blackness of her eyelids, she knew where it was taking her. Then the blackness began to glow blood red, a bright light shining though her eyelids and into her very being. She opened her eyes, shielding them from the brightness with her hand, until they adjusted.

And t
here it was, UV One. But it was unlike anything she'd ever seen before, a display of colours that folded and spun beyond the visible spectrum. But she could see it, its intensity, and what she saw she understood in a whole new way, as though a door had been opened in her mind and the secrets of the universe had been poured in. The colours stretched out beyond the vessel, growing in a sphere that expanded by the second, engulfing the station and her in it. And then it hit her, a feeling of familiarity, of knowing, like she shared a kinship with another mind. The feeling grew, becoming stronger and stronger, until a torrent of agony scored the insides of her eyeballs, and she screamed, tumbling away from the window. A pair of hands grabbed her by the shoulders, stopping her mid-spin. She blinked, and through her burning, streaming eyes, Gardner came into focus.

'Are you ok
ay?' he said.

'I …' she croaked.
She could barely get the words out.

'What happened?'

'I … don't …'

Gardner looked
over her shoulder, out of the window. He turned back to Sally, his face creased with worry. 'You — you see it too, don't you?'

Sally nodded. She felt drained
. Gardner gripped her shoulders harder, and a strange look came about him. 'He's here …' he said.

'Who … who's here?'

Gardner looked around, eyes distant. 'God.'

Cold liquid ran through Sally's veins
as, with a sudden clarity, she realised what had happened to him on TMA Eight. 'You mean … you mean you've seen this before?'

Gardner nodded. He was looking out
of the window rather than at her. 'He's been here a long time, watching, waiting,' he said. 'I tried to ignore him at first, but I couldn't. He's just so beautiful.' His eyes bulged with tears, the Earthlight catching the shimmer and the puffy red skin around them. He let go of Sally and hugged himself. 'I couldn't bear to go,' he said, wiping his eyes on his sleeves. 'It — it broke my heart to leave him behind.'