Rachel had giggled. And in the darkness, Sasha Blaine had given Harley a thumbs-up. “I’m not going to apologize for it. We’re doing important work, and the process is likely to be painful. Remember, however, that although Houston may not be a garden spot, it’s a damn sight better than being in Venture, or running around inside Keanu.

“So here’s what I need, and what I’m going to have: complete cooperation, and zero bitching. Anyone who doesn’t feel he or she can commit to those two rules, there’s the door. Anyone who stays is expected to comply.”

The room was silent until Williams raised his hand. “May I speak?”

“Briefly.”

“I won’t argue your, ah, self-evident points. I would just note that creative work and genuine insights do not occur on schedule or demand.”

“Noted,” Harley said, “and I’m completely aware of that. I’m only trying to create an environment in which creative work can be accomplished in an optimum manner . . . a flash of genius is no use to us if it doesn’t support the mission.

“Which is,” he said, feeling the need for a reminder, “to complete the reconnaissance of Keanu and return both crews safely to Earth—”

The door opened again, and this time Harley’s anger was genuine rather than strategic. “Goddamn it, how many times do I have to—”

He stopped when he saw that the new arrivals were White House adviser Bynum and Director Jones. Weldon was with them, looking indecently fresh. There were also a couple of the usual trailing horse-holders.

“Sorry for the interruption,” Jones said, and immediately stood aside. “Mr. Bynum has some important new information for us.” Jones looked as exhausted and grim as Harley had ever seen him.

Bynum cleared his throat. He did not ask for lights, meaning that his face stayed in darkness, and his words seemed to originate with an invisible speaker.

Perhaps that was the idea.

“Obviously this business of seeing humans allegedly being reborn on Keanu represents a . . . paradigm shift.” Harley wondered who had come up with that painfully neutral term. Obviously it was a less emotional choice than mind-fuck. “I’ve just gotten off the phone with the president—”

“What about the pope?” someone said, to more laughter than was justified. In the dark room, Harley couldn’t identify the speaker.

“The president,” Bynum said, clearing his throat again, “has officially classed the entities on Keanu as hostile.”

That pronouncement triggered a wider reaction, typified by one loud, surprisingly female voice, “That’s fucked up.” Sasha Blaine! Harley was starting to like this young woman.

Harley chose to let the uproar continue for a few extra seconds before saying, “People, remember the rules.”

He addressed Bynum but caught Weldon’s eye. “Mr. Bynum, what exactly does this mean?”

“That none of the entities will be allowed to leave Keanu’s interior, much less enter either the Venture or Brahma vehicles.”

“Which means this isn’t just our president, but the leaders of the Coalition nations.”

Jones finally spoke up. “They judged the, uh, Revenants to be hostile from the very beginning.”

Bynum persisted. “This decision also means that returning crews will be quarantined. Preparations are being made for secure containment of the Venture interior, for example. Meanwhile, regarding current mission operations, a recall is being sent to the crew as soon as full radio contact is restored—and deadly force is authorized.”

“You mean kill them?” This time it was Lily Valdez who spoke.

But it was Rachel Stewart who stood up, clearly visible in the light from the screen, and a surprising vision to Bynum, Jones, and Weldon. “How can you say that? That’s my mother up there!”

Bynum sputtered, unable to deal with a question from an unexpected source. Gabriel Jones said, tiredly, “We’re not going to attack these things. We just want our people back, safe and sound. But, Rachel, honey, there’s no way that creature is actually your mother. . . .”

“She knows things only my mother would know!”

Harley reached for the girl and gently pulled her close. “It’s okay,” he told her. “We’re going to make the best of this.”

“What this decision means,” Bynum said, “is that whatever actions you recommend, treat the Keanu situation as a public health threat. Minimize contact. Resist it. Disengage.” He moved slightly, allowing Harley to see his face . . . Bynum seemed to have aged a decade overnight.

Jones waved Bynum and the others to the door, but Weldon lagged behind. “Harls, a moment.”

Harley didn’t want to leave Rachel, who was shaking with rage. All he could do was hand her off to Sasha.

Outside, in the hallway, as Bynum, Jones, and the others kept a polite distance, Harley launched the first salvo. “Didn’t you guys just tell me I was in charge of this?”

“Not quite,” Weldon said. “You are the head of the committee, meaning that you are the one we turn to for answers. What this order does is shape your guidance to the Home Team. In other words, don’t waste time trying to unscrew the inscrutable. Concentrate on safety and security.”

“What a lot of fucking bullshit.”

“You want out?”

“I don’t quit in the middle of a job.” He knew Weldon wouldn’t have allowed that in any case. “But I want you to know, since none of your other little friends seems to get this, that the smart way to play this is to assume those people up there are who they say they are.”

“Those people. These Revenants?”

“Call them whatever you want, Shane. They are living, breathing proof that the universe is a shitload weirder than we know, and there are creatures out there who can operate its machinery better than we can. Which should be no fucking surprise, really. So why do you want to poke them with a stick? It’s only going to backfire.”

Weldon closed his eyes. Harley knew the man didn’t disagree. But Weldon’s greatest professional strength happened also to be his biggest personal weakness: He did whatever those above him asked, and usually better than they could have imagined. “What do you want me to do, Harls? This is the White House and the Pentagon at work.”

“Remember one of those little sayings you mentioned when I was an ASCAN?” Weldon, as a senior flight director, had been on the panel that interviewed Harley when he first applied to become an astronaut candidate. “‘ We’re looking for people who understand the importance of making decisions they can’t take back.’” Harley pointed down the hall, at the group waiting impatiently for Weldon.

“I’m going back to wrangle the geniuses, and I’ll keep your guidance in mind. But when you get back to mission control, don’t let them make a decision we can’t take back.”

Although communication between Bangalore and Korolev mission control centers and the Brahma spacecraft is temporarily unavailable, all signs indicate that the mission is proceeding as planned. It is believed that Brahma crew member Natalia Yorkina, citizen of Russia, was the first to enter the Keanu interior and has performed the bulk of the scientific survey.

ITAR-TASS REPORT, 23 AUGUST 2019

“I’m going out,” Dennis said.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“You heard the message.” The cosmonaut was already in motion, heading toward the Venture airlock and his EVA suit.

Yvonne couldn’t have stopped him. Even in low gravity, the pain and swelling in her leg made movement difficult. “Dennis, the man is dead!”

“It’s better for all of us that he is met—out there.” He tapped the nearest bulkhead. “Not in here.”

Yvonne had spent a terrifying half hour. The only thing she could compare it to was being flung across the surface of Keanu yesterday—frightening as that had been, it had lasted only a few minutes.