“You probably don’t have all the facts,” Jerry said. “We’re doing all right.”

His visitor nodded. “Every time the government has a problem, they cut your funding.”

“We’re still here.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Jerry.” He cleared his throat. “I suspect the country will always be in good shape as long as NASA is here and functioning.”

“We like to think so, Bucky.” Blackstone glanced back toward the outer office. The Downtowners were doing “The Frankford El.” The volume had gone down, but it was still audible. He signaled surprise that Jerry would permit such moonshine. “Guilty pleasure,” Jerry said. “What can I do for you?”

Blackstone smiled benignly. He understood perfectly. We all have weaknesses. “I saw the press conference this morning,” he said.

Jerry nodded. “Odd story, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, yes.” He sat back, relaxed, crossed his legs. “More years ago than I care to remember, I did public relations for the Stanfield Corporation. Nothing at the level you’re operating at, of course. But I remember how unnerving it could be. You were always at the mercy of the unexpected.”

“That’s certainly true.”

“I thought you handled yourself pretty well, Jerry.”

“Thank you.”

“Were you able to find out how it happened? The conversation between Myshko and ground control? What was it, some sort of test run?”

“Probably. We haven’t tracked it down yet, Bucky.” He didn’t feel comfortable using the man’s first name. “But I can’t imagine what else it could have been.”

“Of course. I thought maybe it was a hoax. That somebody added it to the information released by NASA.”

“At this point, we just don’t know. We’ll figure it out.”

Blackstone leaned back and shook his head. “Strange things happen.” He had dark, piercing eyes, narrow cheeks, and a no-nonsense manner.

“I guess,” Jerry said. “Did you come in for the press conference? I didn’t see you in the room anywhere.”

“No. I was up talking to your boss. Afterward, I went down to the cafeteria for lunch. I always like eating here. You never know whom you might meet. Anyhow, that’s where I saw it. Just the last fifteen minutes or so.”

Jerry wasn’t sure how to respond. So he made a sound deep in his throat and nodded.

“Jerry, I know your time is valuable, and I don’t want to take it up unnecessarily.” Blackstone smiled, and much of the hardness went away. “Despite what we’d like to see happen, we both know NASA’s time is done. Over. There’s a lot of pressure right now by the corporates who feed off NASA to keep you going, and that’s the only thing keeping it afloat.”

“I’m not sure I agree.”

“It’s okay. We can debate it another time. At the moment, we both know UPY and MagLev and all the rest of them have made a fair income selling Saturns and test vehicles and God knows what else to the government for sixty years. They’re not in the same league with the armaments industry, but there’s still a lot of money involved. Today, though, times are changing. The government’s under a lot of pressure. Next year’s an election year, and the public is up in arms. They’ve had it with billions spent for a program that doesn’t do anything. You know as well as I do that the Hall of Fame is a diversion, the latest step in a general shutdown.”

“That’s not going to happen, Bucky.”

Blackstone shrugged. Jerry’s opinion was of no consequence. “The president’s going to have to show more progress in cutting costs than he’s been able to do so far. He’s even going to go after the Pentagon, I hear. You really think he won’t be coming after you? After NASA, that is?”

“They’ve already hit us pretty hard. We’re still here, though. We’ll still be here when I retire.”

Blackstone’s eyebrows rose, and an amused smile appeared. “You know, Jerry, the truth is that, okay, you need public funding at the start for something like a space program. You have to have it. The project’s just too big, the risk too great, for any individual company. But once you get it off the ground, the best way, the way that’s always worked most effectively in this country, is to turn it over to private industry. If Nixon had done that in, say, 1973, it’s hard to say where we might be by now.”

Jerry didn’t really want to get into an argument. And in any case, he knew there was some justification for what Blackstone was saying. So he held out his hands, suggesting that the future was anybody’s guess. “How about some coffee, Bucky?”

“Thanks,” he said. “But I should be on my way.”

“Okay.”

“If we’re ever really going to get back to the Moon, put together a manned expedition to Mars, do anything like that, it will be a private entity that does it, probably a group of corporations. I came here today to talk with Mary Gridley about some areas where we can help each other. And I watched you in that press conference when they asked you about the Myshko flight.

“You handled yourself pretty well, Jerry. NASA will never get to Mars. You know that as well as I do. But we will. Blackstone Enterprises. If you’re interested, when we leave, we’d like you to come along.”

“You’re offering me a job?”

“I need a good public-relations officer. I have a good one in Ed Camden, but I’ll admit to you that he doesn’t believe in what we’re doing. I need somebody to be the face of the organization, a true believer. Someone who understands that we belong in space. That we have to get clear of this world if we’re ever going to be more than simply a lot of people sitting around watching television. That we’ll continue to evolve as a civilization.”

“Bucky,” Jerry said, “I appreciate the offer. It’s very kind of you.”

“But—?”

“I’m committed here. I just don’t agree that a single corporation or a corporate group can manage a project of this size. I think that, if the United States government can’t do it, if NASA doesn’t do it, it’s not going to happen.”

“Jerry, the future’s with us.”

“I wish you luck. But you’ll have to show me.”

“We will. In any case, the offer’s on the table. But it won’t be there forever.”

—

Jerry was the most visible person in NASA, save for the old astronauts. That was like being the biggest satellite in Earth orbit, except for the Moon. Nevertheless, Jerry got a lot of calls from strangers. Barbara deflected the majority of them. They tended to be from people asking how they could become astronauts, meet astronauts, or get astronauts to help out in various fund-raising events. A few were from cranks who complained that NASA was spending too much money or wanted to know why we weren’t on Mars. And some even wanted to report meetings with aliens or UFO sightings.

Occasionally, she passed one that mattered on to him. “From somebody named Harkins,” she said. “He says he’s a former Navy captain. And that it’s important.”

“Did he say what it’s about, Barb?”

“Negative. Insists he’ll talk only to you, Boss.”

—

The guy was easily in his eighties. White hair brushed back, bifocals, cracked voice. But he sat straight up in a leather chair, his wrists draped over the armrests. “My name’s James Harkins, Mr. Culpepper,” he said. “I used to fly choppers for the Navy.”

Jerry could see the flickering light of a fire in the background. “Yes, Mr. Harkins, what can I do for you?”

“I’m not sure that what I have to say will be of any interest to you. But I think it’s time for someone to know. I watched you earlier today.”

“Okay. What did you want to tell me, sir?”

“I was aboard the Kennedy when it picked up the Myshko team. There were three of them on board, of course.” The other astronauts had been Louie “Crash” Able and Brian Peters.

Jerry had a sinking feeling. Whether it was a suspicion that he was about to hear something that would undercut his convictions or because he was going to discover that Harkins wasn’t as sane as he looked, he couldn’t be sure. “You actually helped pick them up?”