Vessel (18 page)

A light clicked on behind the door
, which then opened. A wave of hot, nauseating smell flooded out, and following it came a man who was well over six feet tall, had a scratchy beard, deep-set features and a stained vest. In one hand he held a bottle of something that looked home-brewed, and in the other, a pistol. He lowered it as soon as he saw Aleks and a grin broke upon his face.

'Aleks!' he
boomed, pulling the man in and thumping his back. He let go, and they exchanged some cheerful chatter, and then Aleks explained their situation. The tone dipped; they both looked at Sean, and then back at each other. Grigory nodded, stepped back, and waved them in.

'
Thanks, Grigory, we really appreciate it,' Aleks said. 'Come on in, Sean.'

Sean didn't
respond. As he followed Aleks into the house, the hot odour grew stronger. The smell, he decided, was blood.

* * *

When Sally found Novitskiy the next day, he was already working on Soyuz. She could hear him talking to himself long before she saw him, and as she helped herself to her morning meal, he carried on working, unaware of her presence. Her meal was half-finished before he realised she was there.

'Oh, h
ello,' he said, stopping himself as he flew out of Soyuz at breakneck speed. The wide smile he had been carrying faded almost the instant he saw her. 'How are you today?'

'Fine,' Sally said. In reality she was unsure how she felt; the
dread that had overwhelmed her when she'd been alone in her quarters was gone, but it hadn't been pushed aside by fear, or regret, or even resentment. She just felt — numb. Tomorrow was a blank page with no clues on it to guide her, and she was left empty and unsure. She recognised it as a mental defence mechanism, and was grateful for it. 'How are you?'

Novitskiy didn't answer right away. He looked like he wanted to speak, but he d
idn't, his lips twitching as they formed words, yet held them back. 'Look …' he said at last, but Sally already knew what he was going to say.

'It's fine,' she reassured him.
'It's the only way.'

'It's just that Gardner and Williams are injured, and I'm the only one that can
—'

'
I know, I know. I've told you, it's fine.' She rubbed his arm, forcing as comforting a smile as she could manage. 'I mean it.'

Novitskiy nodded, and
behind his eyes a little glimmer of excitement twinkled. She could hardly blame him for that. 'Thank you,' he said, and left her to carry on with his preparations.

Sally spent the rest of the morning helping Novitskiy
ready Soyuz for departure. He also showed her what daily maintenance she needed to do on the station. It was straightforward stuff: pretty much all the systems were self-monitoring, and all she had to do was check readings and levels and tick them off a list, plus give the place the odd clean. It was nice to have something to do to take her mind off things, and the hours rolled by far quicker than she was accustomed. By the time they had buckled up a comatose Gardner and a sedated Chris, she had built up a healthy sweat.

'What else can I do?
' she said, moving herself towards an air outlet to let the cool stream wash over her.

'That's it,' Novitskiy said. 'All you need to do now is seal the hatch behind me
.'

Sally tried to ignore the
horrible flutter in her stomach. 'Well, I guess this is goodbye then.'

'I
will
come back for you,' Novitskiy said, and before Sally could decide whether it was the light, or if his eyes were filling with tears, he had swung his arms around her and squeezed her tight. She reciprocated, although she couldn't match the desperation with which he clung to her, the trembling in his arms that he couldn't hide. He let go, and his eyes were indeed shining with tears.

'I won't ever forget what you've done for me,' he said in a str
ained voice. He looked at her for a moment, then turned and entered Soyuz. Sally did as she had been instructed and manoeuvred the large hatch shut, watching through the shrinking gap to savour her last few moments of human interaction. Her eyes met Novitskiy's just before the hatch shut completely, and the flutter in her stomach became a nauseating jolt. Hatch met seal, and she pulled the locking lever home. That was it. She was now the loneliest human being to have ever existed.

Chapter 19

Grigory, as it turned out, was a gracious host, and made Sean and Aleks' stay
a pleasant one. He was a former special forces operative, and through patchy English, had some fascinating stories to tell. He had been discharged following a leg injury on a tour of duty, and had so far spent his retirement in the countryside. He dabbled in hunting, particularly for musk deer, which were abundant in the area. It also turned out that he was a fantastic cook, and Sean's anxiety had dropped the instant the smell of cooking venison had overpowered the smell of blood. They would need to lay low for a while, stay off the grid, and this place was ideal.

Once
Sean had decided it was safe enough to report home on the satellite phone — having ditched his mobile — Grigory drove him twenty miles into the hills for him to make the call. Better to be traced to a knot of trees in the middle of nowhere than back to Grigory's house, Sean figured, and the others agreed.

'Hi, it's Sean. C
an you hear me okay?'

'Sean
— I've been wondering what happened to you. I was starting to get worried.'

'I'm touched. Look, I've got to make this quick,
so here's the gist: the US Department of Defence are planning on detonating a weapon to destroy an unidentified vessel they've codenamed UV One. Not only that, but they have a crew up there and —'

'What are you talking about?'

'What? I'm talking about the unidentified —'

'
Have you not heard?'

'Heard what? I don't really get to
read the news where I am at the moment.'

'They've come back
to Earth. The whole crew. It turned out to be a communications problem after the solar storm knocked out the main array. Nothing sinister at all.'

'What …?' Sean
said, the revelation disorientating his mind in one sucker punch.

'They landed a few days ago. There
is
a story worth running though — the International Space Station is now empty. First time it has been since it was launched. NASA and the RFSA are sending another crew as soon as they can.'

'But …
' Sean stammered, searching his brain for something that made sense. 'But Aleks said —'

'Aleks? Dezhurov? Jesus, you are out the loop, aren't you?
There's a nationwide search going on for him after he was named chief suspect in the murder of Lev Ryumin. The man killed his best friend — can you believe it?'

Sean had nothing to say.
All the questions he had prepared in his mind escaped him in an instant.

'Anyway, it looks like this whole thing is a dead duck. I suggest you get yourself back here for debrief and reassignment. There's some crazy
stuff about to happen in North Korea, and I want you on it.'

'How many people came back?'

'What?'

'How many people were on the Soyuz
craft that returned?'

'The same number of people that were on the station
— three.'

'What about Sally? And Gardner?'

'What about them? I know what you're thinking, but they never went up. They were on the ground as consultant experts. And the Progress vehicle that went up had no one on it. We checked into that, and NASA confirmed.'

'And you
bought that?' Sean yelled, not believing what he was hearing.

'It's a damn sight easier to swallow than aliens
, Sean.'

For the second time in that brief conversation, Sean was knocked speechless
, but not by shock this time — by blind fury.

The voice at the other end didn't wait for him to talk.
'Why don't you take a couple of weeks off before you come back. Have some time to get this whole thing out of your system. We've got people here I can put on the empty space station story, so take this opportunity to recharge your batteries. I know what you're like — you work too hard, get too involved, and I don't want you wearing yourself out. You're no good to me like that.'

'This is bullshit.'

'Alright, well I've got a meeting now,' the voice continued, ignoring him, 'so I'll speak to you later.'

The speaker clicked. The voice
was gone. Sean continued to hold the phone to his ear, lost in a flood of thoughts and feelings that pinned him to the spot. He stood like that for a long while before he made his way back to the house with Grigory, where he relayed the story to Aleks.

'
What?
' Aleks said, his face looking like he'd just been slapped.

'That's what he said. That you
killed Lev.'

'That's … that's …' Aleks
spluttered, his cheeks blooming with red anger as he paced around Grigory's living room. He stopped, balled his fists and yelled something incomprehensible. Then he sat down. 'Bales …' he moaned through his hands. 'This is all Bales …'

It made perfect sense. Bales could destroy Aleks without needing to point a weapon, wi
thout even needing Aleks at all.

'I'm sorry,' Sean said.
'I'm sorry I got you into this.'

Aleks dismissed him with a wave.

'I'm a grown man. I chose to get involved. This isn't your fault.'

'So what do we do now?'

Aleks sat back in his chair and sighed, his bushy, greying eyebrows forming a frown. 'We nail this son-of-a-bitch.'

Sean tossed and turned that night, the
phone conversation going round and round in his head. Was it true? Had he been misled by his trusting nature? That would make him an aide in all of this … He turned over again, the sheets clinging to his skin. No, Lev Ryumin had been killed by Bales. He knew it was true. Or was it? Perhaps Aleks had him roiled up in a big web of lies, all fabricated to protect himself from the long arm of the law. After all, the only person who had mentioned UV One to him
was Aleks
. Lev had only implied its existence. The whole thing seemed to be unravelling in his mind the more he thought about it, and it made his stomach heavy as a rock to realise how deep in he was. But what about the email from Bales, his orders to investigate and destroy UV One? Sean winced when he remembered he hadn't seen the email with his own eyes — everything he knew he'd been told by Aleks. All at once he felt anxious about being in a house in the middle of nowhere with a wanted criminal and his ex-special forces brother, who, he realised, was pretty handy with a butcher's blade.

The next morning, Sean woke to find the house empty. There
was no sign of either Aleks, who had been sleeping in the main bedroom, or Grigory, who had taken refuge on the sofa, and the house looked as it had done late the night before.

'Hello?' Sean called
, his voice loud in his ears. No answer came. He looked out the front window; Grigory's truck was gone. Trembling panic made his knees weak, and he stumbled to the front door to slide the bolt shut, which slammed home with a dull thud. What was he going to do now? He couldn't run, he was in the middle of nowhere, and … well, he was starting to feel silly. Sitting down, back leaning up against the door, he shut his eyes and took measure of the situation. Aleks couldn't have killed his best friend. Why would he? In the cold light of day, the voices in his head that had wound him into a stupor the night before seemed a lot fainter.

He groaned as
the predicament rolled around in the wash of his mind, and in a single frustrated moment, he decided what to do. Hauling himself to his feet, his heart spiked as he realised his stun gun, which he was about to get, was drained flat; he had forgotten to recharge it.
Shit.
Rethinking his plan, he went to the kitchen, listening out for Grigory's truck. He took the biggest knife he could find, the one Grigory was using to carve up musk deer the night they had met. It was weighty, imbalanced by the long, thick blade. Along its cutting edge it shone bright, the metal sharp and gleaming only where it needed to be.

The crunch of tyres on t
he loose road and the chug of an engine sent Sean running to the window, heart thundering, knife in hand. Peering through the blinds, he saw Grigory's truck pull up to the kerb outside. He and Aleks got out. Sean unlocked the bolt and backed up, grasping the heavy knife in both hands. He held it out in front of him like an axe, ready to drive it home the moment he was provoked. The handle turned and the door opened. Aleks walked in. He was chatting with Grigory, who was following him up the footpath, laughing. When Aleks saw Sean, his face dropped, wide eyes moving from the knife, to Sean, then back again. Grigory pushed past Aleks, and also stopped when he saw Sean. They all stared at each other, locked in an unspoken stalemate, and the silence that held them apart grew longer. It made Sean tired, his heart beating fast and his limbs moaning with a dull ache. He wanted to say something, but he didn't want to be the one to push the first domino.

'What are you doing?' Aleks said, breaking the
unsteady truce.

'I'm protecting myself,' Sean
tried to say with force, although his voice came out flat and thin.

'From what?'

'From you.'

Aleks' face
was one of shock, of confusion, but it wasn't a look his brother shared; Grigory had the same expression he'd worn when Sean had first met him: suspicion.

'I do
n't understand …' Aleks said, his wide eyes unblinking.

'
I'm not sure you've been telling me the truth.'

S
omething changed on Aleks' face. 'Everything I've told you is the truth,' he said, taking a step towards Sean.

Sean retreated back, thrusting the knife out
further in front of him. 'Stay where you are!' he yelled through gritted teeth. 'Don't come any closer!'

Aleks
lifted up his hands, palms outward, but the instant Sean glanced at them, Grigory pounced. Sean slashed with the blade, but Grigory countered, knocking back against Sean's arms with his own. Then Sean felt a large, hot hand clasp his wrist, and a sudden agonising pain shot through it. Grigory retreated. Nursing his empty hand, Sean stumbled back, quivering with pain and shock. Grigory passed the knife to Aleks. He then reached into his jacket and retracted a handgun, matt-black and snub-nosed, which he cocked and pointed at Sean. He walked over to Sean, gun levelled at his face, and stopped with the muzzle inches from his forehead. Sean shut his eyes, his tightening throat suffocating him, forcing his breaths to become fast, ragged gasps. All at once he felt numb, distant, as if he were buoyant and weightless. He waited, but the pain never came, nor the flash, nor the thunder.

H
e opened one eye, and then the other. Grigory was still standing in front of him, still holding the gun inches from his face, but now it was reversed, pointing the other way. Grigory jiggled the weapon, making Sean's insides squirm, but he realised that Grigory had done it in a,
here, take this,
kind of way. Sean lifted his hands, moving them towards the grip until his fingers met cool steel. As he took the gun, Grigory released the muzzle, and backed up next to Aleks. Now Sean was pointing the gun, which was shaking in his hands. He moved it to Aleks, whose eyes looked back deep into his, and then to Grigory. Neither of them spoke. Sean didn't know why he did what he did next, but he did it anyway: he lowered the gun and put it down on the coffee table. Then he fainted. He didn't know how long he was out for, but when he came round, it was because a shadow was hanging over his face.

'Sean, are you ok
ay?'

Pain smouldered in a pocket behind his eyeballs, and as he opened his eyes, it seared with vicious agony.
'Eurghhh …' he gurgled as he sat up, reaching for the source of the pain, the back of his head. When he looked at his hand, there was blood, but not much. 'What happened …' he groaned.

'You fainted,' Aleks said, helping him to stand. 'You knocked your head on the table.'

Bit by bit it all came back to Sean. The knife, the gun … the fainting.
Shit.
But he was still alive.

Aleks helped him to the sofa and lowered him down.
'I'll clean you up and get you some pain killers,' he said. 'It doesn't look too bad. You'll be fine.'

The pain in Sean's head had begun to subside already, but in its place came nausea at the thought of what happened before he fainted.
'I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do.'

'That's fine,' said Aleks, who
had returned with a damp cloth. He mopped the back of Sean's head with it. 'I can understand your position. But I hope there will be no more knife waving from now on.'

Sean shook his head, which reinvigorated the pain, and he winced. Not that there was any point
in threatening him with a knife — Grigory had plucked it from his hands without so much as a thank you.

The front door opened
and Grigory himself walked in, carrying a bag of shopping. 'Food for tonight,' he said. 'You're not going to stab me over it, are you?'

An embarrassing stupidity burned on Sean's cheeks.
'No,' he mumbled. 'I'm sorry.'