Burnout: the mystery of Space Shuttle STS-281 (5 page)

Crash picked up the phone again and dialed room service, ordered a club sandwich and coffee, then pulled out the stack of log books and prepared for a late night read.

* * * *

The next morning, bright and early, they were all back at the high bay. More chunks of debris had come in overnight, and the night shift had been busy assembling them into a telling whole. It was becoming obvious that
Atlantis
had simply nosed in, fast and steep, and had overloaded the heat dissipating capacity of the tiles that protected her. At that point, the underlying alloys had begun to soften and melt, and
Atlantis
had lost her structural integrity, outer parts ablating and shedding along the final miles of her trajectory. Impact with the water of the Gulf of Mexico at the high Mach speed she had been traveling had, quite efficiently, finished the job. Approximately seventy-five percent of the orbiter had been recovered so far: The parts clustered around the point of impact in the Gulf. But Crash remembered the blazing fireball that night, and knew that not all would be recovered; in addition to souvenir hunters on the beaches, some of the orbiter had ceased to exist.

One of those non-existent parts, however, was not the flight ops recorder. Crash watched with Mitch and a seemingly omnipresent Lisa as an olive drab Army cargo helicopter, rotors beating the air, brought it suspended in a crate to the Redstone Arsenal airfield, and technicians loaded it onto a flatbed to carry it to the high bay for analysis.

"Well, finally," Lisa remarked, her voice shrill with impatience. "Now maybe we can find out something."

"Yeah," Mitch remarked in full agreement. "You gonna handle it, Crash, or they callin' somebody else in from Houston?"

"Well, at least for now, I guess I'll handle it, see what it tells me about the re-entry trajectory and guidance systems. If I need help, I'll give JSC a call."

"Want a hand, Crash?" Lisa murmured, with a sidelong emerald glance. Mitch, behind her, rolled his eyes.

"…No. I'll do just fine on my own, thanks," Murphy replied curtly, just before leaving.

Chapter 4

When Anders let himself into the spacious, warm, inviting flat, Doctor Cayleigh Monteith, tall, statuesque blonde and future Director of the soon to be constructed Sydney Planetarium of the Australian Museum, stood waiting, clad in a turquoise silk negligée. Anders stopped dead, staring.
Dear Lord, she's gorgeous.
Her ivory brow was furrowed with worry, and as soon as he got well in the door, she came to him.

"Mike! Where have you been?" she pressed, grasping his hands. "I've been worried half sick."

Anders shook himself out of his ardent reverie, flushing in embarrassment. "Oh, damn. I should've called, love," he murmured penitently. "I'm sorry. I ran out of petrol on my way in to Sydney, and that ran me late to begin with. Then I had to meet two blokes from the A.C.T. for dinner, there was this near fender bender in Chinatown--"

"Fender bender?! Are you all right?" She took him by the arms, surveying him for more personal damage.

"I'm fine, love," Anders soothed her, "and, well, it all just ran longer than I thought it would. Forgive me?"

Cayleigh smiled then, her lovely brow smoothing. "Of course. Don't I always?"

Anders grinned sheepishly. "You do."

Cayleigh took his hand, leading him deeper into the apartment. "Come on. It's getting late, and you have to make your flight tomorrow."

Anders followed her back to the bedroom.

* * * *

"You know," Cayleigh mused some little bit later, as they lay, snuggled close in the huge platform bed clad in red silk linens, "I think it's your turn."

"My turn?" Anders looked at his longtime lover, puzzled.

"Yeah. Lie back and close your eyes and relax. I'm taking over."

Anders' eyebrows rose in characteristic curiosity, then he lay back against the satin clad pillows. "All right."

Cayleigh leaned over him and kissed him. Anders sighed his pleasure. Then her lips left his mouth, trailing over his firm chin, down his throat, teasing the stubble there. He tilted his head back, letting her nuzzle his Adam's apple, and sighed again as her lips wended their way further down, traversing his collarbone. She deposited kisses across his chest, outlining his strong pectorals. Suddenly she seized one of his nipples between her teeth, nipping gently, and he almost shot upward into a sitting position at the exquisite, delicious pain. "Ahh!" he exclaimed. "That… Cayleigh…" With some reluctance, he allowed her to push him back into the feather pillows.

He gazed up at her hungrily with dilated blue eyes, causing Cayleigh to wonder in delight at seeing him so willingly vulnerable. "Do it again… please, love."

Cayleigh leaned over his torso, lovingly savaging his nipples as he groaned with pleasure. After awhile, she eased her way lower, watching his sensitive, smooth skin ripple at the butterfly touch of her lips against his firm, flat belly. He began to pant in anticipation.

"Now, Cayleigh."

"No. Not yet. You have to wait," she teased him with a smile. "I'll get there… eventually." She chuckled with mischief at his frustrated moan. But instead of giving him the instant gratification he desired, she stoked the fires of his passion, kissing all around his groin area without ever contacting his genitals, even spreading his legs to give herself room to deposit kisses all along the sensitive inner thighs.

By the time her lips wrapped around his manhood he was in agony. Mike gasped, his body arching, his shaft filling her mouth. He felt her tongue on him, rasping delicately against the tender tissue, its tip following his contours, running around the rim of the head before she applied delicious suction. She released him, her breath warm against his saliva-wet skin, and his body instinctively thrust upward, seeking to be imprisoned again in the warm wetness of her mouth.

"Cayleigh… take… me…" he whispered the plea.

With that, she was astride him, and he was thrusting deep into her loins, arching again. She rocked her hips, and he gasped his ecstasy. He felt the heat beginning in his shaft, and he began to pant again. "Hur… ry…" A flurry of thrusts was his response. He heard her groan, a low, sweet sound, as her body contracted around him.

Anders was lost.

"Cayleigh!" The cry seemed to come from the depths of his being, wrenched from him and yet effortless, as his body reached a new level of sensation. His hands fastened on her hipbones, locking her against himself, nearly immovable, as he deliberately surrendered himself within her.

"Ahh… ahh… oh, dear God…" he panted fervently, "Cayleigh… don't stop…"

"Ca… can't stop," Cayleigh gasped, writhing on top of him. "Mike… oh, Mike…"

She flung her arms around him, pressing as close as she could get to him, thrashing wildly. As the throes of their passion subsided, he smiled in tenderness, wrapping his arms around her and cuddling her against his chest. She snuggled into him, and Anders smiled, delighting in the feeling of her soft, warm body molding itself to his.

"Damn," he breathed happily, with more than a hint of teasing in his tone, "I have got to make it to Sydney more often." He chuckled before planting an affectionate kiss on the tip of her nose as she looked up.

Cayleigh grew anxious. "Mike… love, can we… talk about that?"

Anders felt the sudden tension in her. He held her in place as he rolled them onto their sides, facing each other. He gazed down into her lovely sapphire eyes, letting his own expression become open and curious; somewhere in the back of his mind he was musing on how beautiful she looked, lying there surrounded by flame colored silk, her long platinum hair spilling across the pillows. "Sure, sweetheart. What do you want to talk about?" he asked, his voice soft and low.

"Mike… I…" Cayleigh's eyes dropped, as her cheeks flushed deep red. "Mike, have you ever considered… settling down here in Sydney?"

Anders looked bemused. "Well, not really." He paused in thought. "It isn't that I… well, I stay so busy, it just hasn't crossed my mind."

"I know," Cayleigh sighed her wistfulness. "I've been there myself. But… but, Mike, I'm going to direct the new planetarium. I'll still get to do research junkets and such. We've been a couple so long--ever since grad school--together but never really together, at least not for long. Always on the go. Grabbing little stolen moments with each other, like tonight, but never for more than a couple of days at any given time. Mike, we could be together now. All the time. Not just once in awhile, when we're both in the same place at the same time. I can work the planetarium, and you can head the Anglo-Australian Observatory's Sydney office--they're looking for a director. I dropped your name just to see, and the committee was positively ecstatic at the thought of getting an astronomer of your international stature. And then, we could do our research together, go to the States, or to the Inter-American Observatory, or… or anywhere you wanted…"

Anders stared at his blushing, intense lover, startled at her ardency. "You've really thought about this."

"A lot. I… I love you, Mike." She fixed her eyes on his chest, afraid to look at him as she made her admission; he had heard her utter those words before, but never like this, never so fervent.

A silent Anders continued to gaze at her, thoughtful. Finally, Cayleigh dared to look up, meeting his eyes. At his lack of expression, her own eyes filled with tears.

"You… you're not interested." A tear spilled over, trickling down her still-flushed cheek.

That galvanized Anders into a response. "No, love, no, that isn't it. Not at all. I'm just… stunned. I…" Tender fingers brushed a strand of blonde from her eyes. "Do you want to get married?"

"Are you proposing?"

"I'm… not sure." He gazed at her, face honest and open, if confused.

Cayleigh shrugged, diffident. "I'd like to. But, but, as long as we can be together, I'll be happy."

Anders' expression melted into a tender smile. "You know, I rather like that idea, myself," he considered. "In fact, the more I think on it, the better I like it. I'd been noticing anyway, these long nights at the telescope are telling on me a little more than they used to, when I was younger. Maybe it really is time to settle down, act more like normal blokes."

Cayleigh smiled, hopeful at his response, eyes still glistening. "You want to, then?"

"Yes, I do. I love you too, darling. ‘S why we've stayed together all these years. You're my… my other half, I suppose. At the risk of sounding softer than marshmallow fluff, you know the old saying, ‘Home is where the heart is?'" Anders asked, face growing hot. "Well, you're… home, Cayleigh. My home. There's never been anyone else but you. I already think of you in that way, so I suppose we ought to go ahead and make it official. But I can't do it just yet, Cayleigh," he informed her. "I have the stint at the VLA, and I have to check out this thing for the DSTO. But that'll only take a few months, and then I promise I'll come straight back here. While I'm gone, why don't you go ahead and send my appy into the AAO office for me, and let Sherman know I'll help you run the planetarium into the bargain?"

Cayleigh seemed to light up from inside, almost taking his breath away with her beauty. "Oh, Mike." She hugged him tight. "I'm so happy."

"Wait a minute." He sat up, pulling her up with him, then he eased out of bed, dropping to a kneeling position, and positioning her to sit on the edge of the bed. When she saw his classic pose, she giggled happily, and he glanced up. "Now, hang on there, I'm not ready yet."

"I just don't think I've ever heard of it being done in the nude before," she giggled again.

Anders knelt on one knee before her, grinning impishly, shifting his posture a bit to ensure that his male assets were totally exposed to her gaze. "How's that?" he teased, taking her hand in his.

"Perfect," she snickered, sapphire eyes sparkling in devilish delight. "Marvelous view."

"Good. Glad you like it. Cayleigh Anne Monteith, will you marry me?"

"Michael Charles Anders, nothing would make me happier."

"Then that's taken care of," he said, lunging up and forward, tackling her and taking her back down into the fluffy scarlet bedclothes. "We'll get the ring tomorrow before I have to go to the airport."

"That's fine," she lilted. "Now somebody needs to get some sleep. And I don't mean me," Cayleigh pointed out. "You observed all last night, then drove all day today, and you have that long flight tomorrow."

"In a bit," he grinned, playfully rolling on top of her. "I'm not done here yet. After all, I have a fiancée now. I can always sleep on the plane."

Cayleigh's giggles grew muffled as Anders' mouth came down on hers.

* * * *

First thing the next morning, a private phone rang in the headquarters office of a certain Australian bank. A balding executive in a conservative pinstriped suit answered it. "Hodges here."

"Piggybank, Hotdog," came a gruff voice on the other end.

"Ah, yes, how may I help you, sir?" Hodges cloaked his surprise.

"I need you to freeze some accounts."

Hodges' hazel eyes darted around the marble office. "Certainly. May I have the account numbers?"

"Two credit cards. One, card number 405025678133. Private code 0260."

"I have it, sir. And the second?" Hodges entered the information into his computer.

"Card number 9715 3264 1455, code 6510."

"These are personal accounts," Hodges noted, reviewing the information on his screen.

"Right."

Hodges entered several commands. "Very well. Both accounts are from this bank; both are now frozen. May I be of further assistance?"

"Yeah," Hotdog answered. "Freeze the following checking account: 7025683."

"The name on the account?"

"Michael C. Anders."

"I… will need paperwork," Hodges hesitated. "Then it will take approximately two weeks."

A long string of cursing was heard. "Paperwork in progress," Hotdog snapped, then hung up.

* * * *

Jones came into Brown's office in Canberra, latching the door behind himself. "Heads up, mate," he murmured, gesturing toward his own breast pocket.

Brown took the hint, extracting his palm computer and initiating the anti-surveillance mode. "What's up?" he asked his partner.

"Johnson wants to know how last night went. We're to be in his office in ten minutes. I think he also has a bit of news for us, too."

"Names?" Brown asked curiously, tucking the Blackberry into his jacket and standing.

"Maybe," Jones shrugged. "I think he also might have some info about the little incident in the outback, as well."

"Let's go, then," Brown said, headed for the door.

* * * *

"I like this one," Anders noted, as he and Cayleigh bent over a selection of diamond solitaire rings at the jeweller's shop. The shop's huge plate glass front window framed a near-postcard view of the Sydney skyline, laid out before them.

"Oh, darling, that's much too big," Cayleigh protested, gazing in awe at the crystalline fire set in platinum against which Anders' finger rested. "I don't need anything that big and expensive."

"Maybe you don't need it, but I still want to get it for you." He smiled into her eyes.