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“Mark.” Sergey’s voice overrode Bob’s and General Duncan’s. “I swear to you, on my astronaut’s life—on Sasha’s life—that warhead willnotdetonate. Not while I am president.”

A louder, deeper silence than Sasha had ever felt seemed to stretch like a rubber band. He didn’t even hear Mark breathe. He didn’t hear the static of the radio or the hum of his space suit, the whir and hiss of his oxygen. All he heard was Sergey’s voice saying his name, the promise he’d given.On Sasha’s life.

“I don’t like it,” Mark finally growled. “Atall. But we’ll do it.”

It took an hour for Mark and Sarah to maneuver the warhead back toFreedom. Sasha readied a storage locker for it, padding the interior and gathering all the straps he could find. Houston and Roscosmos were quiet, Mark’s final pronouncement seeming to end all chatter.

The floating warhead was a silver canister about the size of Sasha’s thigh. One side panel had been removed, and wires tumbled out of it like spaghetti or Medusa’s wild hair. A manual control panel near the top of the canister had knobs and switches, all marked in Cyrillic, and a 1980s-era display, like an old calculator.

Sasha was supposed to keep away from the nuclear side of the operation, but Mark had him help secure the warhead, hold it down while he and Sarah strapped and strapped it, covered it in more padding, and shoved it out of sight.

“Houston,” Mark said, once the airlock door was closed. “We’re on our way back to ISS.”

* * *

ISS

Earth’s Orbit

Mark tooktwo deep sniffs when he floated offFreedomand onto the ISS. “Smells like bleach,” he said, calling up the stack fromHarmonytowardUnity.

“We had a biological,” Phillipa called back. Her head appeared upside down out ofUnity, like Spider-Man hanging from a web. “Had to scrub every inch ofColumbus.”

“What happened?”

“Our murder victim sprung a leak during autopsy.” Rafael came out of the Japanese lab on Mark’s right. He seemed drawn, exhausted. “Phillipa, I’ve secured his shroud to the end of the Japanese lab.”

“Thanks, Raf. Get some rest.”

Rafael gave Sasha, Mark, and Sarah a tired smile before pushing up the stack past Phillipa and heading for theTranquilitymodule. “We moved all the crew quarters,” Phillipa said, “and disinfected the entire module. Everyone’s beat.”

“Bet that was gross.” Mark helped Sasha pull their space suits offFreedomand reattach them to the hooks outside the airlock. He grabbed the oxygen hose and plugged Sasha’s suit in first. “Everyone okay?”

“Jim got some blood in his eye. It’s red and angry, and he’s pretty grossed out. He might have a contact infection. Michaela gave him a shot of antibiotics and a Valium. They’re resting onIndependence. Rafael just finished stowing the body. Joey was monitoring the experiments for Houston when it happened, so he’s good. Made a joke of wearing a rebreather at dinner.”

“What did we learn from our Soviet friend?”

Phillipa tossed a tablet down the stack. It soared and twirled in the weightlessness, and Mark dove for it like he was underwater. He snatched it and rolled, his shoulder thumping into the bulkhead as he threw his hands up, a pretend zero-g touchdown.

Sasha and Sarah shook their heads. Sarah rolled her eyes. Sasha pushed off after Mark, floating behind him as Mark tapped the tablet screen and brought up the autopsy report.A full-screen photo of the corpse with his helmet removed popped up.

“Chto za khren!” Sasha shouted. He jerked back, tumbling elbows over asshole in a violent jerk away from Mark, the tablet, and the image.

Mark spun, reaching out and catching him, the tablet still in his free hand. “Sasha!” He frowned, his confusion palpable.

In two years, Sasha had never cursed so vividly in front of Mark. But in those two years, he’d never seen a ghost.

Sasha’s heart raced, still staring across the module at the photo of the corpse. The swept-back cheekbones knifing across the tanned, broad face. The wide, flat lips and the long, dark hair. Even dead, even desiccated and mummified, Sashaknewthat face. A hundred memories snapped through his mind, moments from his life he’d preserved like photos.

Those moments hadhappened. He’d been with his man, hadknownhim.

“Sasha?” Mark shook him, his hands squeezing Sasha’s shoulders. Through Mark’s punishing grip, Sasha felt his own muscles as rigid and hard as lead. “Sasha, look at me!”

Slowly, he tore his eyes away from the tablet and met Mark’s worried gaze. His own wide-eyed panic was mirrored in the shine of Mark’s dark irises. No wonder Mark was concerned. He looked wild, out of control. He panted, gasped.

“Sasha, what’s going on?” Mark cupped Sasha’s face in both of his hands. “Look at me.Breathe.”

“I—” Sasha blinked hard. Moments froze behind his eyelids.