DR. UNDERBERG WAS ALIVE. BARELY.
In order to deal with their depressurization and reduce the need for constant oxygen and continual monitoring on the station, Anton had placed both Dr. Underberg and my father back in hypothermic torpor. He did the same for Elana, too, in order to, as he put it, get her out of the way.
He also tried to talk the rest of us into it.
“Honestly, it’ll make for a more pleasant trip home,” he said.
“Forget it,” said Nate, crossing his arms.
“Yeah!” said Howard, copying his brother’s stance. “I want to see what it’s like to reenter the Earth’s atmosphere.”
We all stared at him.
“What?” he asked. “Is that not why?”
“No,” Nate said. “That’s not why. The why is we’re not getting knocked out and shoved in a box. Been there, done that. I’m going to be in control of what happens to my body from now on.”
“Oh,” said Howard. “Yeah, that, too.” He crossed his arms again.
Anton scoffed at that. “Kid, how in control do you think you are when landing a spacecraft? I’m a trained pilot and I depend almost entirely on the computers and ground control.”
“Ground control?” I said. “Wait, you mean the people landing us are Shepherds?”
Anton spread his arms. “This entire operation is Shepherds, remember? Secret space station?”
Right. That. I guess it was time to talk about that. I floated over to the porthole and looked out at space. I’d saved Dad and Dr. Underberg. I’d even convinced Anton to take us back home. But we still had to deal with the Shepherds.
I looked at Anton. He was so creepy, so terrifying. But he’d saved my father’s life. He’d had those tranquilizers on him the whole time, but instead he’d chosen to talk to us, to try to convince us of the power of his mission. He’d killed a bunch of bees, but he wanted to save the world.
I thought of home, and our silly cat, Paper Clip, and the way that people throughout history had done bad things for the good of all mankind. Even when we knew the truth, it didn’t diminish what had been accomplished. The lies were a tarnish on the fabric of history, but we still fought to move forward. To make progress, like Dr. Underberg dreamed.
Despite all their lies and manipulations, the Shepherds had created something extraordinary in Infinity Base, just as they had created something extraordinary in Omega City. I didn’t want to see it shut down. I wanted a way for it to remain, for the good of all humanity. Like the Shepherds once thought, back when Dr. Underberg had been young and full of hope for the future.
“I want people to know the truth,” I said. “The truth about what you’ve managed to accomplish here. Infinity Base is only a secret because that’s the way the Shepherds want to operate. But isn’t it the Shepherds who have lost their way?”
Eric whistled. “Gills, you’ve gone to the dark side. Really. You’re lucky Dad’s frozen.”
I looked at him. “No, this is exactly what Dad wrote about. Dr. Underberg left the Shepherds when they tried to keep Omega City to themselves. And now they’re doing it again.”
Savannah nodded vigorously. “You think letting us go, letting your secrets be exposed means you’re turning on the Shepherds. But it’s really the Shepherds who were turning on their mission. You say you want to help humanity, but look at all the ways you’ve hurt people. And . . . bees.”
I kept going. “People deserved to know about Omega City, and everyone on Earth deserves to know about what you’ve created up here.”
Anton’s brows were furrowed. He was raised a Shepherd, just like Dani. They were steeped in secrecy and self-importance, but there was one part of their beliefs that trumped all. Everything they were doing was supposed to be for the good of mankind, to help humanity survive the future.
“We’ll all get arrested,” he said after a minute of thought.
“Good,” murmured Nate.
Savannah gave him a dirty look, then looked back at Anton. “You might,” she agreed. “For, like, kidnapping. And fraud.”
“And conspiracy,” Eric added. “This is definitely a clear case of conspiracy. Even I can see that.”
“But you also stopped an even bigger conspiracy. You could be the whistle-blower. Maybe you get immunity for that.”
“Or time off for the good behavior of building a really awesome space station and gifting it to the world,” I finished. “This place—Infinity Base—Anton, it’s the future. Don’t you think the world should claim it?”
FOR THE RECORD, spacecraft landings are . . . boring. It took us ten heart-pounding minutes to get into space. It took us about six uneventful, turbulent hours in a Shepherd shuttle covered completely with heat shields to make it back to Earth. Eric complained that they should have in-flight video games. Nate, I’m pretty sure, took a nap somewhere above China. Howard read every single line of data, from altimeter and velocity readings to heat and life-support checks.
I kept my screen trained on the cargo area, where the three hypothermic transport pods containing Elana, Dad, and Dr. Underberg were strapped in tight.
I had no idea what awaited us on the ground. Anton had been in several intense conversations with Shepherd personnel back home, and we’d even gotten the chance to have a short chat with Dani and my mother, in order to assure us that we weren’t walking into another Shepherd trap. They’d both been released, and from what I could see, Dani was back in charge of operations.
I was hoping that was a good thing.
Anton had decided to stay aboard the station. I was pretty sure it was his way of avoiding arrest, at least for a little while.
“I’m not going back,” he’d said to us, his eyes firmly trained on one of Infinity Base’s many checklist screens. “Whatever happens, the continuation of Infinity Base is now in question. Without Guidant resources, I don’t know what will keep this station going. No new research, no new supplies. . . . You’ve seen the things I have up here,” he said. “The ecosystem I’ve created. I can’t abandon them.”
“You can’t stay here,” said Savannah. “Alone?”
“Dr. Underberg did,” Anton said. “He was in that spaceship for nearly a year.”
“And look what happened to him!” Eric said.
“Infinity Base has much better resources,” Anton said. “Astronauts stay in the International Space Station for months at a time and they don’t have nearly the radiation shielding or the benefits of artificial gravity sections that I will here.”
“They also have support from multiple countries and private corporations,” Howard pointed out.
“Hopefully, that will be the deal the Shepherds work out with the international community,” said Anton. “But I’m not going to risk losing my station while we wait to find out.”
I watched him working the screens as if he hadn’t a care in the world, and realized another clarion truth. “You want to go down with the ship.”
Like Dr. Underberg. These Shepherds. Their priorities were all screwed up.
For a moment, there was nothing but the sounds of machinery and artificial atmosphere. You could have heard a pin drop, if pins dropped in zero g.
“What I want, Miss Seagret,” said Anton, “is for the ship not to go down, And I feel like my best protection against such an eventuality is to not abandon it here.”
I’d run out of energy to argue, and when I looked at the others, they didn’t seem to think it was worth it, either. If Dr. Underberg could survive for months on a broken-down rocket from the eighties, maybe Anton would be okay up here.
So we’d left without him. And endured six hours with no communication from the ground or Infinity Base.
“This would be cooler,” said Howard, “if we could see the part where we catch fire.”
“Yeah,” said Savannah sarcastically. “That’s just what this trip is missing.”
Eric harrumphed in agreement.
THERE WAS A moment of excitement when the parachutes deployed and we began, at last, to really slow down. We all jerked in our seats at the sudden deceleration, and I held my breath for a moment, terrified that something had gone wrong and we were about to crash.
We didn’t. Instead we started a long, slow drift to the ground. Very long. Very slow. Nate fell asleep again.
Two hours later, we touched down, as planned, on the Shepherds’ landing field. And there we sat, for another hour or so, until someone came to pry us out of our capsule.
There was a mechanical sound on the hatch, as whatever locks were applied to the door were pried loose, and then a line of daylight, real daylight. I craned my neck to watch as the door was removed, and then a figure appeared, shadowed by the sunshine behind her.
“You all are grounded,” said my mother. “Permanently.”
“Mom!” cried Eric, fumbling for his seat belt. I quickly unhooked mine and then tried to stand up in my seat, only to stumble and fall as the full weight of the Earth hit me again.
“Watch out,” she said, and pulled me up and into a hug. “Gravity will kill you.”
Actually, it was my brother who would, as Eric barreled me down again as he climbed over me and into my mother’s arms. Our helmets knocked together.
“Mom! Mom! You’re all right,” he cried, his voice muffled by his helmet.
“I’m thrilled to see you, too,” she said.
Behind her, I saw the field was swarming with cops. Real cops. There were men and women in jackets emblazoned with the letters “FBI” holding back what had to be dozens of reporters with big microphones and even bigger cameras. I saw vans with satellites on their roofs, and helicopters circling overhead.
I guess it wasn’t every day you learned about the existence of a secret space station.
More personnel were coming in. I’d expected to see Shepherd or Guidant uniforms, but these staffers were wearing orange outfits with the NASA logo.
“Are they getting Dad?” I asked. “And Dr. Underberg? They need medical attention.”
“Like it or not, you’re all headed to the hospital.”
Mom was right. We were herded straight into the back of an ambulance and all went to some kind of military hospital. There were guards at the door. No TV in the rooms. There were people in dark suits standing in the hall, and no one got in except for the nurses and doctors on duty, the Nolands, and Savannah’s mother.
Mrs. Noland looked like she’d aged about ten years since I’d seen her at Howard’s birthday party. Mr. Noland was quiet, but every few minutes, he found some reason to hug both the boys. Even Howard tolerated it.
Ms. Fairchild told Savannah she was fielding calls from film agents. The people in dark suits didn’t seem to like the sound of that at all.
Meanwhile, the doctors took about ten vials of our blood and evaluated our hearts and lungs for “deleterious effects of space travel on adolescent respiratory systems.”
Apparently outer space is bad for your lungs. Who knew?
No one would tell us what happened to Dr. Underberg. No one would tell us what had happened to the Shepherds.
And even after they’d determined we were all just fine, they didn’t let us go. Instead we were relegated to a drab waiting room, where decade-old issues of magazines sat alongside dusty, threadbare Reader’s Digest collections. There were pictures of kittens and fairgrounds on the wall, and a Scrabble box missing—as Howard dutifully reported—two Ss, three Es, and a J.
He and Nate tried to play, anyway. Eric got super into some story in Reader’s Digest about a dog. Savannah asked for some scissors, and spent her time making hexaflexagons. I climbed the walls.
“Sit down,” Savannah said to me. She pushed some paper my way. “You’re making me nervous.”
“I don’t know how you aren’t nervous already,” I replied. “We don’t know if Dr. Underberg survived the trip. We don’t know what was going on with the Shepherds and Elana. We don’t know what’s happening outside this room! Is the world finding out about Infinity Base?”
Savannah chuckled. “Are you worried someone is going to scoop your dad’s next book?”
I laughed ruefully.
“You did it, Gillian,” she said. “You saved your dad.”
I sat down next to her. “We did,” I corrected. “And I think we kind of saved the whole world, too.”
“Yeah,” agreed Savannah. “I think that’s going to be really good for Nate’s college essays.”
“Not to mention your future film deal.”
The two of us started laughing uncontrollably.
“Remember me when you get to Hollywood,” I said.
“At least California is closer to Idaho,” she replied.
That pretty much stopped the laughter. “I’m going to miss you next year.”
“Yeah?” She folded the flexagon back and forth to crease the seams. “I’m starting to wonder if maybe it’s a good thing you’re going.”
“Hey!” I said, indignant.
“When you only lived in town for the summers, I never once almost died. And now it happens all the time.” She smirked. “I really don’t have time for that. I need to focus on middle school.”
“All those new boys?”
“All that precalculus.”
I leaned my head on her shoulder. I’d still miss her. I’d miss all of them. Except Eric. He’d be right there with me, driving me nuts and saving my life. I grinned at him and he looked up from his book.
“Why are you staring at me?” he asked, sticking his tongue out.
“I love you.”
“Uh-huh.” He went back to his story, but I could see him smiling like a fool at the page.
Mom came in a few minutes later, looking worried but rested, with her hair freshly washed and a clean set of clothes on.
“Mom!” I cried, leaping up to give her a hug.
“Oof.” She caught me, then squeezed me tight. “I could get used to this.”
“Where is Dad? When are they letting us out of here? What’s going on? What’s happening with the Shepherds? With Infinity Base? What about Dr. Underberg?”
She smiled weakly. “Okay, settle down. Those are a lot of questions.”
I blinked at her. “So?”
“Never change, kiddo,” she said. “You really are your father’s daughter.”
As if there had been any doubt.
“Look, Gillian, it’s complicated. I don’t really understand all this stuff. National security, everything. This is your dad’s area.”
“Where’s Dad?”
“Recovering,” she said. “And I don’t think even he would know where to begin with these people. We’re all under a massive gag order. But from what she’s told me, Dani has it under control.”
“Dani?” Eric asked, looking up from his book. “You mean she’s getting something right for a change?”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I looked over to the door to see Dani Alcestis standing there. She’d done her hair again—it was back to the perfect, sleek yellow swoop—and she was wearing a classy black suit and silk blouse. “It’s always so lovely to do business with you Seagrets.”
I stood up. “You have to tell us what’s going on!”
“So demanding,” she said, wrinkling her nose. She strode into the room, taking in the decor. “And yes, trust me. I know I do. If I don’t you’ll just find a way to get the information anyway. Hey, nice hexaflexagon, Savannah.”
Savannah held up her creation. “Thanks. This one has six faces, like the zipper pulls.”
“Well done.” She stood in the middle of the floor. “I’m glad to see you all have been keeping yourselves . . . busy.”
Very funny. I tapped my foot. “What’s happening with Infinity Base?”
“Nothing at the moment,” she said. “You can’t inform the governments of the world that you’ve built a secret space station and expect them to just take the keys and run. Any kind of transition at all is going to take a little time. At present, NASA and the CIA are just concerned we’ve built a massive orbiting death machine with missiles trained everywhere. They’re busy making sure that’s not the case.”
“Oh, no!” cried Savannah. “They aren’t going to do anything to hurt it, are they? Like, shoot it out of the sky or anything? There are all those animals up there.”
“Indeed,” said Dani lightly. “Plus Anton. But I doubt it. First of all, I don’t think they could hit it with anything, even if they wanted to. The U.S. rocket program is a good decade behind ours. Secondly, they wouldn’t destroy anything they could use. They just have to make themselves feel better by pretending to be careful and concerned. That’s how governments work.”
I rolled my eyes. Dani was back to smug Shepherd mode. I hadn’t missed it. “Okay, so what about the Shepherds and Guidant?”
“Well, I’ve tendered my resignation at Guidant,” Dani said. “It’s funny. There have been a lot of resignations there over the past day or so. And a lot of arrests.”
“So it’s disconnected from the Shepherds,” I clarified.
Dani looked at me blankly. “I really wouldn’t know,” she said, in a voice of innocence. “I have been busy with a family matter. My father has been very ill. Thanks for asking about him, by the way, Gillian. Very thoughtful.”
“She is thoughtful,” said Howard, from his Scrabble table. “Dr. Underberg isn’t safe unless the Shepherds agree to leave him alone.”
“Thanks, Howard.” I turned back to Dani. “Leave all of us alone. Are the Shepherds doing what they promised?”
“If I had any knowledge of Shepherd activity, I would be inclined to say yes. I think whoever is in charge these days has Dr. Underberg’s well-being as her utmost priority.”
“Wait,” said Howard. “Does that mean you—”
“Howard,” I interrupted, because those guys with the suits were still listening. “I think she has it covered.”
She smiled at me. I took a risk and smiled back.
Mom held out her hand. “Your father’s awake,” she said. “Do you want to see him?”
Eric and I went running.
DAD’S LUNGS HAD undergone some damage due to smoke inhalation during the fire on Knowledge, but otherwise he was in good shape. He was on antibiotics to keep infection from setting in, and still had the IV tube in his arm when Eric and I piled on his hospital bed.
“How’s Dr. Underberg?” he asked, his voice crackly and wheezing.
“He’s in the ICU,” Dani said. She’d accompanied us to Dad’s room. “His body has deteriorated quite a bit from his year in microgravity. Not just his bones and muscles, but his heart, his circulation, his lungs . . .” She swallowed. “They still aren’t sure if he’s going to make it back here on Earth. He’s almost ninety, you know.”
“I’m so sorry, Dani,” said my father. “I want you to know what an honor it was to spend time with him—”
“And I want to thank you, Dr. Seagret, for saving his life. I heard about what happened during the fire on his ship. That was incredibly quick thinking.”
“You can thank Howard,” said Dad. “He told me where to find the fire extinguisher and the rescue device. Everything was burning up, but Howard just kept talking.”
Dani smiled. “Yes, I think we’ve got to keep our eye on that boy.”
“I don’t think he’s seen the last of outer space,” said Mom.
“I want to go back, too,” said Eric. “It was cooler than swimming.”
“Wow,” said Dad. “High praise coming from you. What about you, Gillian? Are you going to be an astronaut now?”
I thought about it. I’d been terrified during liftoff, but the sight of the Earth from space was one I’d never forget. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “Maybe. I guess it depends what kind of future Infinity Base has to offer.”
“Good answer,” said Dani.
“Well, I’m done,” Dad said. “I’ll just have to watch you guys go.”
I frowned. He would, wouldn’t he? And not just to space, either. We’d be going off to Idaho soon, with Mom. My thoughts must have been showing on my face, because Dad squeezed my hand, and I felt a sob rise in my throat.
“Not forever, kiddo!” he said to me. “Not forever. If there’s one thing I learned on Infinity Base, it’s that it doesn’t matter how far away we are from each other. You and Eric and me—we’ll always be a team.” He reached out and hugged me. Eric came in, too.
A nurse appeared at the door.
“Miss Alcestis?” she said. “The patient is waking up. He’ll want to see a familiar face.”
Dani frowned. “I’m not . . . I’m not familiar.”
The nurse faltered. “You don’t want him to be alone right now . . .”
She looked at me. “Could the children . . . he knows the Seagrets better than me.”
“It’s not standard to allow children in the ICU. Certainly not five of them . . .”
And yet ten minutes later, there we were, surrounding the bed of Dr. Underberg. He looked even smaller here than he had in his ship, his wasted body and brittle skin almost as pale as the bedsheet. There were tubes and wires in his arm, his nose, and traveling under the bed. The skin around his face was shrunken to his skull. But the machines showed a steady heartbeat, and his chest rose and fell. There were seven of us there in the room: Nate and Howard, Savannah and Eric, Dad and Dani, and me.
On the monitors, his rate of respiration rose. His heartbeat quickened. His eyelashes fluttered. He opened his eyes and looked at us all, surrounding his bedside.
“Seagrets . . . ,” he wheezed. “Where are we?”
“Back on Earth,” said Howard, almost disappointed.
“Ah . . .” Dr. Underberg echoed the sentiment. He took us in one by one, then frowned. “I . . .”
I looked around. Dani was shying back, and I pulled her forward. “Dr. Underberg, allow me to introduce you to your daughter. This is Dani Alcestis.”
“Hello.” She tripped over the word and focused on the bedsheets, the floor, anything but her father.
I looked up at Dad, and he just smiled reassuringly and put his hand on my shoulder. “Let them be.”
Dr. Underberg breathed in and out, then reached for her. “It’s good to see your face. At last.”
She broke into the first true smile I’d ever seen her wear. “Dad,” she whispered. “It’s good to see yours.”
I smiled, too, and leaned against my father. We were home.