“Watson’s awake! She’s talking!” What happened next would remain forever etched in Gordon Obie’s memory. He heard voices swell, cresting into noisy cheers.

He felt Todd slap him on the back, hard. Liz Gianni gave a rebel whoop.

And Woody Ellis fell into his chair with a look of and joy.

But what Gordon would remember most of all was his own reaction. He looked around the room and suddenly found his throat was aching and his eyes were blurred. In all his years at NASA, no one had ever seen Gordon Obie cry. They were damn well not going to see it now.

They were still cheering as he rose from his chair and walked, unnoticed, out of the room.

Five Months Later

Panama City,

Florida

The squeal of hinges and the clank of metal echoed in the vast Navy hangar as the door to the hyperbaric chamber at last swung open.

Jared Profitt watched as the two Navy physicians stepped out first, both of them taking in deep breaths as they emerged. They had spent over a month confined to that claustrophic space, and they seemed a little dazed by their sudden transition into freedom. turned to assist the last two occupants out of the chamber.

Emma Watson and Jack McCallum stepped out. They both focused on Jared Profitt, crossing toward them.

“Welcome back to the world, Dr. Watson,” he said, and held out his hand in greeting.

She hesitated, then shook it. She looked far thinner than her photographs. More fragile. Four months quarantined in space, followed by five weeks in the hyperbaric chamber, had taken its toll.

She had lost muscle mass, and her eyes seemed huge and darkly luminous in that pale face. The hair growing back on her shaved scalp was silver, a startling contrast against the rest of her mane.

Profitt looked at the two Navy doctors. “Could you leave us alone, please?” He waited until their footsteps faded away.

Then he asked Emma, “Are you feeling well?”

“Well enough,” she said. “They tell me I’m free of disease.”

“None that can be detected,” he corrected her. This was an important distinction. Though they had demonstrated that Ranavirus did indeed eradicate Chimera in lab animals, they could not be certain of Emma’s long-term prognosis. The best they could say was that there was no evidence of Chimera in her body. From the moment she’d landed aboard Endeavour, she’d been subjected to repeated blood tests, X rays, and biopsies. Though all were negative, USAMRIID had insisted she remain in the hyperbaric while the tests continued. Two weeks ago, the chamber pressure had been dropped to a normal one atmosphere. She had remained healthy.

Even now, she was not entirely free. For the rest of her life she would be a subject of study.

He looked at Jack and saw hostility in the man’s eyes. Jack had said nothing, but his arm circled Emma’s waist in a protective gesture that said clearly, You are not taking her from me.

“Dr. McCallum, I hope you understand that every decision I made was for a good reason.”

“I understand your reasons. It doesn’t mean I agree with your decisions.”

“Then at least we share that much—an understanding.” He did not offer his hand, he sensed that McCallum would refuse to shake it. So he said simply, “There are a number of people waiting to see you. I won’t keep you from your friends any longer.” He turned to leave.

“Wait,” said Jack. “What happens now?”

“You’re free to leave. As long as you both return for periodic testing.”

“No, I mean what happens to the people responsible? The ones who sent up Chimera?”

“They are no longer making decisions.”

“And that’s it?” Jack’s voice rose in anger. “No punishment, no consequences?”

“It will be handled in the usual manner. The way it’s done at any government agency, including NASA. A discreet shuffle to the sidelines.

And then a quiet retirement. There can’t be any investigation, any disclosure whatsoever. Chimera is too dangerous to reveal to the rest of the world.”

“But people have died.”

“Marburg virus will be blamed. Accidentally introduced to ISS by an infected monkey. Luther Ames’ death will be attributed to a mechanical malfunction of the CRV.”

“Someone should be held accountable.”

“For what, a bad decision?” Profitt shook his head. He turned and looked at the closed hangar door, where a slit of sunlight through. “There’s no crime to punish here. These are people who simply made mistakes. People who didn’t understand the nature of what they were dealing with. I know it’s frustrating for you. I understand your need to blame someone. But there are no real villains in this piece, Dr. McCallum. There are only heroes.” He looked directly at Jack.

The two men regarded each other for a moment. Profitt saw no warmth, no trust in Jack’s gaze. But he did see respect.

“Your friends are waiting for you,” said Profitt.

Jack nodded. He and Emma crossed to the hangar door. As they stepped out, a burst of sunlight shone in, and Jared Profitt, squinting against the brightness, saw Jack and Emma only in silhouette, his arm around her shoulder, her profile turned to his. To the of cheering voices, they walked out and vanished into the blinding light of midday.

The Sea

A shooting star arced across the heavens and shattered into bright bits of glitter. Emma took in a sharp breath in awe, inhaling the smell of the wind over Galveston Bay. Everything about being home again seemed new and strange to her. This unbroken panorama of sky. The rocking of the sailboat’s deck beneath her back. The of water slapping Sanneke’s hull. She had been so long deprived of simple, earthbound experiences that just the sensation of the on her face was something to be treasured. During the last months of quarantine on the station, she had stared down at the earth, homesick for the smell of grass, the taste of salt air, the the soil under her bare feet. She had thought, When I am home again, if I am ever home again, I will never leave it.

Now here she was, savoring the sights and smells of earth. Yet she could not help turning her wistful gaze toward the stars.

“Do you ever wish you could go back?” Jack asked the question so softly his words were almost lost in the wind. He lay beside on Sanneke’s deck, his hand clasping hers, his gaze also fixed on the night sky. “Do you ever think, ‘If they gave me one more to go up there, I’d take it’?”

“Every day,” she murmured. “Isn’t it strange? When we were up there, all we talked about was coming home. And now we’re home, and we can’t stop thinking about going back up.” She brushed her fingers across her scalp, where the shorter hair was growing back as a startling streak of silver.

She could still feel the knotty ridge of scar tissue where Jack’s scalpel had cut through her galea. It was a permanent reminder of what she had survived on the station. An enduring record of horror, carved in her flesh.

Yet, when she looked at the sky, she felt the old yearning for the heavens.

“I think I’ll always be hoping for another chance,” she said. “The way sailors always want to go back to sea. No matter how terrible their last voyage. Or how fervently they kiss the ground when they reach land. In time, they miss the sea, and they always return.” But she would never return to space. She was like a sailor trapped on land, with the sea all around her, tantalizing yet forbidden.

It was forever out of her reach because of Chimera.

Although the doctors at JSC and USAMRIID could no longer detect any evidence of infection in her body, they could not be certain Chimera had been eradicated. It could be merely dormant, benign tenant of her body.

No one at NASA dared predict what would happen should she return to space.