Page 148 of Stars

“President Wu, I understand you have launched an unscheduled manned mission into orbit.”

“Madam President, our ship, theBeautiful Star, is on a humanitarian rescue mission,” President Wu said. “Two astronauts are clinging to life in orbit. We are in a position to rescue them instead of leaving them to die.”

Gasps rose around the room. General Duncan’s steely gaze bored into her.

“President Wu, those astronauts are almost certainly infected with a deadly and uncontrollable virus, one that has no cure and no treatment. It is too dangerous to bring anything from the ISS, including those astronauts, back to Earth. We cannot and will not allow it.”

“We have a treatment facility established in a remote location. We will not leave them to die, Madam President. Not when there is a chance of saving lives.”

“I must insist. You cannot bring those astronauts back to Earth.” She muted the call. “General Duncan, what is our closest ballistic missile submarine?”

“The USSNebraskain the Sea of Japan.”

“Give the ready order, General. Bring our forces from DEFCON 2 to DEFCON 1.” She’d upgraded to DEFCON 2 when Zeytsev had occupied Yamantau Mountain.

She unmuted the call as President Wu insisted again that his country was on a humanitarian mission and that they were going to do everything they could to treat the astronauts they rescued.

“Mr. President, I have a nuclear submarine aiming her full complement of Trident missiles at your rocket as we speak. If you continue on your mission, I will be forced to launch against your people. We cannot and will not allow anything or anyone from the ISS to reenter the earth’s atmosphere.”

“Madam President,” President Wu said smoothly. “Any action taken against my people or my space programwillbe an act of war. China will immediately retaliate against your military and civilian populations with full-scale nuclear strikes. We will kill seventy percent of your population within the first twenty-four hours. Are you willing to trade the possibility of an outbreak for the certainty of nuclear war?”

“The United States has a robust antiballistic missile defense system, Mr. President. We can take out your missiles.”

“You may take out some of them. Many, I will concede. But you and I know that your missile defense systems have an accuracy percentage between fifty and seventy-five percent. You cannot eliminate everything we launch. How many American lives are you willing to sacrifice, Madam President? How many lives are you willing to give away for these two astronauts?”

“Madam President, we’re ready to launch at your order,” General Duncan said. “USSNebraskais standing by.”

My orders are clear: if anything leaves that station and heads for Earth, we blow it out of the sky. Nothing from the ISS will be allowed back on the planet.

You know the price of this office.

Jack, what have you done?

* * *

46

Looking back on the mission,Sasha decided he’d died the moment he launched into space.

From ignition, the first press of his body against the seat, the thrust of the engines fighting against Earth's gravity, his death was already written in the stars. He’d spat and clawed and fought his way through the atmosphere, riding a pillar of fire born of desperation. His whole life he’d wanted to break that curtain, push between the molecules of the thermosphere and plunge into space. Find the wonders of the universe—and, more than that, the wonders of his soul. In space, he knew, he would be someone different. Someone magnificent.

He’d searched the skies his whole life, dreamed and begged and hoped and wished and yearned to soar among the stars. He’d wanted the universe—and, for a moment, he’d had it. He’d slipped the bonds of gravity and brushed starlight with his soul.

But it wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t home. It wasn’t Sergey.

Every moment he was in space, he turned his gaze back down to Earth.

I want to go home to you.

Blood smeared on his upper lip. He licked the sticky warmth away, tried to sniff back his bloody nose. His eyes were wet, sticky. Something was pooling on the edges, blurring his vision.

Another revolution of the earth, another orbit passing into the dark. Mark had gone silent an hour before, fading away in soft sobs that turned to stuttering breaths as he slipped into unconsciousness.

The Arctic lay beneath him, crowning Russia. His country was dusted with midnight and speckled in diamonds. He picked out the rivers and mountains of Siberia, the darkness between the lights, the absence of humanity. An aurora danced above the North Pole, sparkling lights soaring to the same altitude he was and beyond. Sasha watched electrons and protons dance in the solar winds, in the magnetospheric plasma, tease toward him and then whirl away. Jade and aureolin shimmers rose in thundering explosions, blossoming mushroom clouds rising and bleeding, turning to blood and hovering over the earth, over him. Static grew in his ears, the radio a constant buzz, popping and crackling, then suddenly louder, too loud, filling his body with a steady hum.

It’s not the radio, it’s space.