John J. Nance by Orbit

Author:Orbit
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-09-01T01:25:16+00:00

Chapter 25

ASA HEADQUARTERS, MOJAVE, CALIFORNIA,

MAY 18, 5:40 P.M. PACIFIC

"I have neither the time nor the patience to deal with this right now," Diana is saying with fury into her cell phone. "I'm not overdue, my bill is paid, this is the worst possible moment, and I swear if you bother me again, I'll find a lawyer and sue your ass. Good-bye!"

She snaps the phone closed and rolls her eyes before motioning to the startled young woman standing in the office doorway and holding a pair of shopping bags.

"Is this a bad time?" Deirdre asks.

"Come on in. You get dunning calls from New Delhi much?"

"India?"

"No, Iowa. Of course, India. Where all our call centers and jobs seem to be going. Half the time I can't understand what they're saying, and they never have anyone in charge to complain to."

Deirdre walks into the room tentatively with one eye on the door, as if she'll need to run back out.

"What am I, dangerous? Bring that here, please. Did you get everything?"

"I think so. All your hair stuff and dryer, curling iron, the clothes you wanted, and a change of lingerie...and those Atkins breakfast bars, which, in my humble opinion, you're about the last person to need."

"I like them. They like me."

"I worry about you."

"What else?"

"Everything on your list. And Mr. DiFazio's bathroom and shower are yours when you're ready."

"Thanks. I feel like I've been camping for a week in the same clothes."

"Diana, has something new happened? It's been a shock per hour around here."

Diana sighs. "Richard and the team in Mission Control are fielding requests now from the Russians, NASA, the Chinese, and the Japanese about how to enter Intrepid and get our poor passenger out without killing him. We don't have a compatible docking system, so it's a big problem."

"Wait, four of them? Which one is actually going up?"

"Would you believe all four say they are?"

"That's nuts!"

"The Russians won't back down, nor will the White House."

"Well, that's good, right?"

"Maybe. As long as we get someone up there to get him, yes. But at this rate they're going to need to send a space-suited traffic cop as well."

"I'll get back out on the phones. You won't believe it, but they're even feeding Kip Dawson's transmission over that moving sign at the bank."

"No!"

"It's everywhere, Diana. Every radio station has someone reading it. I've never experienced anything like this."

"None of us has. And the media are shifting now to Kip's background, intimate details we can't answer. I'd tell you I've lost control of this story, but I never for a moment had it."

The intercom feature is ringing again with a relayed call, and she answers, shaking her head.

"Tell Oprah's producer thank you, but I cannot fly to Chicago at this...Oprah herself? Well...sure. Put her on."

ABOARD INTREPID, 5:50 P.M. PACIFIC

The cereal bars are beginning to get tiresome, and Kip wonders if there isn't at least one freeze-dried version of a real meal for his last.

Even condemned serial killers get something better than cereal bars!

It's one of the few thoughts he hasn't entered in the computer.

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