He stayed at the lab for two years, leaving only for meetings of a motorcycle club for recovered addicts he had cofounded. At the beginning of July he was informed by Welch that he had been selected to conduct research on a top-secret project so potentially dangerous that it could only be performed on Trikon Station.
“You know the rest,” O’Donnell concluded.
Dan was reluctant to agree. The story may have jibed with information he and Lorraine had pieced together. But he still heard her cautionary words: Addicts are con artists. Even if they clean up, those other habits die hard. Dan wanted to question him, but before he had a chance a call came over the observatory intercom.
“Hi, Dan. Oh, I can’t believe I’m saying this.” The voice belonged to Lorraine. She sounded giddy, like a giggling little girl. “I want you to know that I really do care about you. Maybe it’s because—”
“Lorraine!” shouted Dan.
“—it’s because I can’t see you right now. Sometimes it’s easier—”
He flew to the comm console. “Lorraine, this is Dan. Acknowledge.”
“—to say things over a gadget rather than in person.” Her voice faded.
“What the hell was that all about?” said O’Donnell.
“Lorraine, acknowledge,” Dan repeated. But all he raised was silence. “Damned if I know.”
Dan pulled himself to the airlock and peered through the portholes.
“Crazy broad must have O.D. too,” he said, hoping that explained the message. He moved his head around the porthole, focusing on the silhouette of each of the modules one at a time. Everything appeared normal.
“Aw hell, Dan. There you go selling yourself short. A woman doesn’t need Orbital Dementia to be interested in you. She needs to be totally insane.”
Dan answered him with a grunt as his eyes scanned from The Bakery to Jasmine to ELM.
“Anyway,” said O’Donnell, trying to win back his audience, “I think whoever slipped me the mickied toothpaste knows what he’s doing.”
Dan nodded absently. The Mars module, which jutted out beyond the trailing edge of the diamond as a continuation of the connecting tunnel, seemed to be askew. Dan blinked. The module still seemed bent. Thinking it was an anomalous reflection on the glass, he moved his head. The module was not merely out of line. It was completely broken from its mooring.
“Holy shit!” he said. “The goddamn Mars module just separated from the station.”
“What?” said O’Donnell.
“You heard me. Get your ass suited up. We’ve got to get back there.”
As O’Donnell struggled into the EMU, Dan tried to raise Lorraine on the comm unit. Channel D was silent. He opened all the channels. A synthesized ringing made his flesh crawl: a life-support alarm.
“You and I will talk over channel C,” he said to O’Donnell as he put on his helmet.
O’Donnell grunted. Dan helped him struggle into his suit, the need to hurry fighting against the need to make certain the suit was safely sealed and working properly. There was no need to prebreathe. The pure oxygen of the observatory was the same pressure as the EMUs. And entering the higher pressure of the station itself would pose no danger of embolism.
Dan led the way out the hatch and fit himself into the MMU. “Sit on my lap.” he instructed O’Donnell.
“What lap?” But the space-suited figure backed against Dan, who wrapped his legs around O’Donnell’s waist.
“Lock your arms around my knees,” Dan said.
“Just like biking,” O’Donnell said. “Almost.” His voice in Dan’s earphones sounded full of doubt, if not outright fear.
The station shuddered. Like a giant sail suddenly caught in a crosswind. Like a man startled by danger.
“Did you see that?” Dan heard a voice yell, high-pitched with fear. His own.
“Looked like the whole damned station . . . shook,” O’Donnell said, hollow-voiced.
Dan fought back murderous fury and the terrible fear that clawed at his chest as he watched the space station begin to wobble and sway. Through the heavily tinted visor of his helmet he saw the bulbous, burnt-orange structure of the detached Mars module begin to drift away, like a rudderless ship caught by an evil tide. The broad wings of the solar panels were swaying, undulating visibly. Dan knew they would break up within minutes.