Gwendy’s Final Task

But she does mind. The last thing she wants on this horrible morning is company. She’s cranky and frightened and filled with doubt. What if I have another Brain Fart? See, that’s not even right! What if I have another Brain Freeze, and he runs back and blabbermouths to Kathy? What then?

As if reading her mind, Adesh gently touches her on the shoulder and asks, “Can we stop for a minute? I wanted to tell you something at dinner last night, but we were never alone long enough and I didn’t want to say it in front of the others.”

Gwendy stops walking and turns to face him. “Is something wrong, Adesh?”

He lowers his eyes and shrugs. “Yes … no … I mean, I don’t really know, I guess.”

“Well, spit it out and let’s figure it out together.”

“I’ll try.” He takes a deep, wavering breath. “When Doc Glen and Commander Lundgren first came to me asking questions about you, I had no idea what their specific concerns were or what they were thinking. I figured it was because you’re … well …”

“Because I’m old? It’s okay, it’s true. And not a dirty word.”

Adesh shakes his head. “No’ ma’am. You might be older than the rest of us, but you’re not old. Now my Grandma Aanya, she’s old.”

“Point taken,” Gwendy says. “Say on, o revered Bug Man.”

“Well, it was only later, when I found out about the cognitive assessment test they made you take, that I went back to them and spoke my true mind.”

“They didn’t make me do anything, Adesh. I agreed.”

Adesh nods, then shakes his head. “Nevertheless, I was very angry when I heard what they did. And I told them so.”

Gwendy is genuinely touched. “You’re a good friend. Thank you.”

“And when I heard that you passed the test with flying colors, I marched right back in there and said ‘I told you so.’ A brilliant woman like you could never fail such a basic assessment.”

If only you knew, she thinks sadly.

“Anyway, I needed to get that off my chest. In case people tell you, ‘That Bug Man, he spoke out of turn.’ It’s the correct phrase, isn’t it? Out of turn?”

“Yes.”

“I just wanted you to know I had to speak my mind.”

She floats up a few inches to give his shoulder an affectionate squeeze—and that’s when she sees it. Maybe thirty yards behind them, where the inner wall of the corridor curves out of sight, someone is standing in the shadow of the big overhead air purifier, watching them. Before Gwendy can call out or get a better look, the figure disappears. Winston? she wonders.

“… say the word.”

She turns back to Adesh. “I’m sorry … I missed that. What did you say?”

“I said if there’s anything I can do to help you, anything at all, please just say the word.”

Gwendy’s mind—suddenly very clear, and what a gift that is—flashes to her laptop. Probably she forgot to put it away, just as she forgot her notebook on Eagle Heavy. But if she did put it away … and then it was not only back on the coffee table but open …

“As a matter of fact, there might be something.” Because of all the people she rode the rocket with, Adesh Patel is the one she trusts the most.

“Tell me,” he says.

38

THE ZOOM MEETING WITH the University of Maine faculty and staff goes well. Gwendy experiences one minor hiccup—when speaking with the Director of Athletics, she accidentally refers to the Black Bears men’s basketball team as the Blueberries—but she catches herself right away and makes a joke of it. Everyone enjoys a laugh and she quickly moves on to other topics.

The rest of her afternoon is spent writing a blog entry for the National Geographic Society (complete with a couple of Dave Graves’s photos) and video conferencing with the Vice President about climate control issues. She has always found the man well-meaning but stupid … which pretty well describes Gwendy herself these days, unfortunately. In between these chores, she catches up on emails and practices tying her shoes (murmuring the bunny song as she does). At some point, she closes her eyes and tries reaching out to Gareth Winston, but nothing comes back to her. Not even the subtlest vibrations confirming his presence on the space station. Another chocolate animal might help, but it also might be a very bad idea.

At one point, Gwendy finds herself looking out the big main window with no idea how she got there. Or when.

NG, she thinks.

At dinner, Winston sits about as far away from Gwendy as is possible. Wonder why, she thinks with a satisfied smirk. For dessert, Sam Drinkwater surprises the crew with a pan of homemade chocolate brownies, still warm from the oven. Gwendy eats two, including a crunchy corner piece, her favorite ever since she was a young girl. They’re certainly not the button box’s special chocolates—for starters, they taste nothing alike, and for finishers they possess not even a hint of magic—but the brownies are delicious just the same. A cozy and much-needed reminder of home and simpler times.