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“What were you there for? What kind of questions were you asking?” Ethan pressed. “Why are you in Tomsk? Why were you even talking to Dr. Sevastyanov? Why are you interested in her father?”

“He was part of a program!” Ilya snapped. His palm slammed down on the table, slapping the medal facedown against the old wood. “And you are dangerously close to something you shouldnotbe.”

“Well, we’re not going anywhere. We can either help you or we can keep getting in each other’s way,” Jack said. “You should really let us help.”

Ilya cursed, muttered Russian bitten off beneath his breath as he hung his head. “General Sevastyanov worked on special projects for the Soviet premier and the organizing committee,” he finally said. “And for the military. Black projects, off the books. Projects for the future of the Soviet Union—”

He wanted peace. What had the general for off-the-books covert operations personally managed for the Soviet Union’s highest officials? What kind of operations had he overseen? “Weapons programs, you mean?” Jack pushed into Ilya’s space, leaning across the table. “Is what’s happening in Sakha related to something he worked on?”

Ilya’s eyes closed. A flicker of pain whispered across his face.

“What did he work on, Ilya? Is Russia covering up an outbreak? Is something about to happen related to General Sevastyanov’s work?”

“Something already fucking happened,” Ilya growled. “We couldn’t cover it up if we tried. It’s on every fucking television around the world.”

“What—”

“The weapons satellite,” Ethan breathed. “General Sevastyanov worked onthat?”

Ilya couldn’t nod. His red Russian blood wouldn’t allow him to. But he said what he could with his gaze, with the weight in the depths of his eyes, like planets were sinking behind his irises and eclipses were climbing into endless nights.

“If he worked on the weapons satellite, then why was his uniform in a mass grave in Uchami? At a suspected biological warfare lab site?”

Gravity swallowed what Ilya refused to say.

“Ilya.” Jack grabbed Ilya’s hand across the table. “What is on that satellite?”

“Something that was meant to stay forgotten,” Ilya whispered. “Something even the Soviets wanted to get off the planet.”

“Jesus,” Jack breathed. “Does Sergey know?”

Ilya shook his head. “How could he? I still don’t know what the fuck is happening! I only just found out from you about this outbreak. And this biological weapons lab. I only know General Sevastyanov tried to throw his secrets away, as far as he could. Well, looks like he did not go far enough.”

“When did the mission launch to retrieve the satellite?”

“Thirty-six hours ago,” Ilya said. He scratched a line into the wooden table with the pointed tip of the old Soviet medal. “Sasha… he’s on it. NASA needed a Russian.” Ilya dug crevices into the old wood as Jack and Ethan stared at each other.

“We have to go back to Dr. Sevastyanov. We have to know what she knows about her father. You have to tell her who you are, Ilya.”

Slowly, Ilya nodded. He pushed back, the chair scraping on the old, cracked concrete floor. “But you,” he said, pointing at Jack and Ethan. “You will not say who you are. You will keep your mouths shut,da?”

Jack nodded. After a moment, Ethan did too.

“Let’s go,” Ilya grumbled, pocketing the medal in his clenched fist.

* * *

They walked backtoward Dr. Sevastyanov’s home, squinting against the slanted sunbeams that carved through the football stadium and the city park. A creaking Ferris wheel spun slowly in the wind, the hold-down chain long gone, rust crawling up the frame and over the buckets and bonnets that used to ferry riders in lazy circuits over the city. Grass grew around abandoned rides, a caterpillar and a train steaming around a long-dry pond.

“Do you smell that?” Ethan sniffed the air, trading worried looks with Blake.

Jack breathed deep. Grass and damp air, rust and old concrete, mildew and age. And, faintly, smoke.

“Lots of fires in Siberia,” Ilya grunted. “People burn fires every night.”

“Look at that—” Pete pointed, jogging to Jack’s side. “Smoke ahead. Maybe two hundred yards.”

“That’s the university!” Jack took off, Pete, Ethan, and Blake hot on his heels. Cursing, Ilya followed, jogging behind them across Lenin Avenue and up Moskovskiy Trakt.