11 Number Ten

The thirty days after my return from orbit were a whirlwind of activity.

Firstly, four days debriefing by Roscosmos, NASA, and ESA teams in Noordwijk. Next, Mario and I took a seven-day break in Madeira for fun, food, and to compensate for seven months of imposed celibacy. On our return, we rushed off for the Goonhilly interview and then Christmas was only a week away. Mario returned to Holland to tidy up his affairs there and arrange for our furniture to be packed and put into a container to be moved to Truro, ready for us to equip our new home. Meantime, I organised a furnished cottage in Helston for us, until we bought somewhere suitable. I fantasised about owning an idyllic, chocolate-box cottage in a quaint Cornish fishing village. I was still in a state of shock over the size of my salary and elevated status and wanted it reflected in our new home.

On the twenty-second of December, Mario and I met up at the extremely posh Royal Garden Hotel where we were being accommodated as VIPs by ESA for one night for a special London meeting on the twenty-third. It was a beautiful hotel and we thoroughly enjoyed our meal and evening, although the price of a gin and tonic was in a higher orbit than even I had been!

At ten in the morning, we arrived at the back entrance of Number Ten Downing Street, where there was to be a small reception coffee party taking place in my honour. This was normal for returning astronauts, but there was much more to take place on this occasion. Mario was in for a shock. I’d been keeping more than one secret from him and today would, hopefully, see me relieved from the anxiety of keeping the greatest of those secrets from my fiancé.

On our arrival, we were taken into one of the Cabinet Office briefing rooms where we met the Home Secretary, Mrs Jenny Rae and a government lawyer. I had not been allowed to tell Mario about this meeting. He was gobsmacked when he realised it was the actual Home Secretary who was shaking his hand.

Introductions were made and Mario gave me a sideways glance which clearly posed the question he’d have liked to have asked out loud – “Eve, what the fuck is going on?”

We all sat around one end of a plush, leather-inlaid conference table.

The Home Secretary said, ‘Mr Casali, we have asked to meet you because currently Doctor Slater works under the Official Secrets Act and you don’t.’

‘No. I do lots of confidential commercial work, but nothing you’d say is of a secret nature.’

‘Well, Doctor Slater has been, and in her new post she’ll be continuously involved in international secrets. That in itself is not unusual, there are many times when partners have to keep secrets, particularly the military and secret service staff. Their spouses and partners would have no need to be appraised of those secrets. However, the secrets Doctor Slater has to maintain are unique, unconventional, and complex.’

Mario looked at me again, curiosity and intrigue in his expression. I tried to keep looking forwards rather than meet his gaze.

‘She is in possession of certain far-reaching secrets and we’d like her to not have to keep them from you. It would be difficult for her and, in fact, for the two of you. We feel she should be able to confide in you to give her peace of mind. We’d like to offer you the opportunity to be obliged under the Official Secrets Act to be that confidant. A government lawyer is here to witness your signature should you wish to sign, but it has to be your decision.’

Mario examined me with a frown on his brow and said, ‘What’s been going on, Eve?’

‘I can’t answer that, Mario,’ I said.

Mrs Rae said, ‘The secrets are unconventional and unique. If you sign you would be committing to secrecy, perhaps for many years. Doctor Slater tells us it is unlikely that your relationship will break down, but if it did, you would still be obliged to secrecy and we have extradition rights with most countries and would certainly pursue any infringement.’

‘I see. What exactly does it entail and what would my responsibilities be?’

The lawyer responded, ‘Your responsibility would be to never speak about anything told you under the act. It means not to your family, not to any future children, not even to your lawyers. If you break the act in this case, which involves the highest level of international secrets, I can assure you a lengthy period of incarceration, probably in isolation.’

‘Phew,’ Mario said looking at me, ‘What the hell have you been involved in?’

I took his hand, ‘Sorry, I can't answer that either.’

Mario sat back in his chair and looked at me, the Home Secretary, then back at the lawyer. I could almost hear the cogwheels whirring. He looked at me again for guidance and, once more, I kept an expressionless face. It had to be his decision, and his alone.

Slowly, thoughtfully, and almost resignedly, he agreed. ‘Okay, you seem to want me to be part of this. If you assure me it is in Eve’s best interests, then I’ll sign.’

‘It is. You have my word,’ said Mrs Rae.

She stood, shook Mario’s and my hand and said, ‘The Prime Minister will be relieved. I’ll see you in thirty minutes at the reception,’ and she left the room.

The solicitor gave Mario a document and said, ‘There is no actual signature required. The act now covers you. You will also find your residency permit has been expedited.’

He left, and we were now alone. Finally, I could tell Mario of my discovery.

‘Sorry about that, Mario,’ I said timidly and kissed him.

‘What’s going on, Eve? Damn it, she’s the Home Secretary for Christ’s sake, not some anonymous government official. She actually said that the Prime Minister will be relieved. Relieved! Why the hell should he be relieved? This is all like something from James Bond. Unreal. What’s it all about?’

‘Yes. They’re taking it pretty seriously.’

‘So, spill the beans. I take it we’ve been left alone for you to enlighten me.’

‘Yes, well, brace yourself.’

I took both of his hands in mine. His expression was so severe; distrustful and worried, as if I’d let him down. I gave him a quick kiss.

‘You remember in those first few days in orbit we had a satellite which was spinning badly and we lost the video connection?’

‘Yes…’

‘Well, there was nothing wrong with the video. The television feed which is supplied to the media is always five minutes behind, not live. ESA cut the media feed because I’d realised we were seeing something unexpected. The system was geared to the chance of us finding a military satellite which might embarrass one or more of the member countries.’

‘So, you found a bomb or something?’

‘No. Much more of a bombshell than that!’ I said with a chuckle.

His expression told me he hadn’t a clue what would come next. I opened the folder Mrs Rae had left with me and there was a full colour close-up photograph of the alien artefact.

‘Good God! What is it?’

‘We don’t know.’

‘What do you mean, “you don’t know”?’

‘It’s alien.’

‘Really? You really mean really alien? Sigourney Weaver alien?’

‘It doesn’t bleed acid, but, no, it’s not of this Earth.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘Positive.’

‘What does it do?’

‘We don’t know. You know how during the last couple of months up there I was under huge operational pressure?’

‘Yes. You seemed to be involved in more ISS stuff rather than satellite disposal.’

‘That’s right. Yuri, Martin, Göran, and I were building this,’ and I flipped the page to the next image which had been taken from the ISS by a long lens. It showed the Cluster, in all its glory with a Progress, a Dragon, and the Scaffy Wagon attached to it.

‘Isn’t that the comet-monitoring lab or something?’

‘Well, NASA had to release some information about it as it was visible from Earth but, in fact, the alien artefact is inside it and being studied right now by four scientists. They’ll be working with my people at Goonhilly, so everything I do down there will be top secret.’

‘I see why you got the job now, but why’s it secret? Why not tell the world? I don’t understand the need for secrecy.’

‘At the moment, the USA has convinced Britain, Europe, Russia, Canada, and Japan to keep it secret until we know more about it. I had an argument with the Prime Minister about it the day we found it.’

‘You argued with the PM?’ Mario was dumbfounded.

‘Yes. He reassured me that it’s currently in the national interest to keep it secret, but I also challenged him about other alien rumours like Area 51. He assured me none of the rumours were true, and I must say I believed him.’

‘But you argued with him? Seriously?’

‘Yes. I’ve strong views about the alien device and how to go about releasing the news to the public. I’m actually very worried about these delaying tactics. Remember, I do have a psychology doctorate.’

‘Wow. Yes, of course. Was he annoyed?’

‘What? That I argued?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, I got the job, didn’t I.’

‘Yes. Oh, Eve, I'm so sorry I had my doubts about it, before.’

‘Well, expect to be regretting it when I can think of some appropriate punishment!’ We both laughed.

‘Sorry,’ he said, and we kissed briefly.

He examined the picture of AD1 again before we went through the album together. The pictures helped to show him how I’d held it with the Scaffy Wagon arm, attached it to the Progress craft and finally positioned it inside the first of the cluster spheres. Twenty minutes of our half hour was gone.

‘This is all amazing, Eve. And so exciting!’

‘It is, isn’t it? I’ll show you some official video once I’m settled in at Goonhilly.’

‘I’m so impressed. Were you scared?’

‘Apprehensive.’

‘Tell me about it.’

I recounted the adventure in double-quick time.

A young man knocked on the door and entered.

‘Can I take you and Mr Casali through to the reception room now, please, Doctor Slater? Mrs Rae says I should take the folder.’

‘Ready to face the throng?’ I asked as I handed the folder to the assistant. Mario nodded.

We descended to one of the reception rooms where we met Gerald, Peter, and Yuri, who gave me one of his bear hugs. Another door opened and in walked Sir Henry Edwards and Mrs Ellen Bray from my interview panel. Accompanying them was the deputy head of NASA, the head of ESA plus the Russian ambassador to London. Introductions were made all around and it was noticeable how interested the latter group to arrive were in meeting Yuri and me. I guess we were famous among this group of already well-known space VIPs.

All this adoration surprised Mario and the kudos went up a further notch when Prime Minister Roger Clarke, Home Secretary Jenny Rae and Secretary of Defence James Faulkner walked into the room through yet another doorway.

The Prime Minister walked directly over to me and shook my hand.

‘Congratulations, Evelyn, on a wonderful discovery. And who is this?’ he said, turning towards Mario.

I introduced them and called Yuri over. Both men were warmly greeted by Mr Clarke.

Mario was even more nonplussed when the Prime Minister lowered his voice and said to him, ‘I am so glad you chose to sign the act. Doctor Slater will need a lot of support during the coming years.’

Inside I was burning up with emotion over Mario’s excitement at everything. I’d been desperate to tell him and it was tearing me apart having to keep the secret. We kept exchanging beaming smiles.

Coffee and the most amazing array of pastries, cakes, and biscuits arrived and were arranged on a circular dining table near one wall.

Mario whispered to me, ‘What would have happened if I hadn’t signed the act?’

‘It wasn’t an option, darling. They would have become increasingly persuasive until you did.’ I gave a nervous laugh as I knew Mario hated being manipulated. He narrowed his eyes and frowned at me and I gave him a disarming smile.

Once the caterers had disappeared, Mr Clarke took a central position by the table and his personal private secretary clapped his hands twice to call us all to order.

The Prime Minister began, ‘I called this small assembly together as I wanted to celebrate Evelyn and Yuri’s momentous discovery. What they found in orbit will change our view of the universe forever. We’re no longer alone. There are other intelligent life forms out there… somewhere.

‘When I spoke to Evelyn on the momentous day of the discovery, she was aboard the SDIV and the alien artefact was rotating only two or three metres from her.’ He looked at me and gave an admiring smile. ‘She was concerned about the discovery being hushed-up in the way all governments are suspected of doing. I assured her, as far as this country is aware, no alien artefact has ever been discovered before and the rumours of UFOs kept in secret American bunkers were all exactly that – rumours and conspiracy theories.

‘In addition to congratulating Evelyn personally, I can also tell you she’ll receive the DCMG in the New Year Honours list, although that news is embargoed until Wednesday.’

Mario was shocked and whispered, ‘What’s that? Never heard of it.’

I returned the whisper, ‘Sorry, tell you later. Ran out of time,’ and chuckled under my breath, which elicited an elbow in my ribs.

‘Evelyn is to take up her new post as UKSA and ESA Chief Executive of the government arm of the Goonhilly Earth Station and, together with the international scientists who are currently studying the artefact in orbit, she’ll be coordinating them and other scientists in a secure facility at Houston. Their task will be to find out exactly what this object is, what its purpose was, and what we can learn from it.

‘We already know it’s from an advanced civilisation. Are they trying to interact with us? It’s a crying shame it was so badly damaged while in orbit, as it makes our investigations that much more difficult.

‘Once we do know exactly what we’re dealing with, this government has no intention of unreasonably withholding knowledge of its existence from the public. Until then, Mr Faulkner, Mrs Rae, and I do need to keep in mind whether it poses a threat. The last thing any of us would wish to do is alarm the general populace. There are religious aspects we need to consider too.

‘For that and other reasons it must remain top secret at the present time, but all of us in this room have clearance to talk freely about it among ourselves.

‘Once again, sincere congratulations to Yuri and Evelyn. Now, please help yourselves to the refreshments. Shortly a photographer will arrive to take some photographs, so watch what you say in her hearing.’

There was warm applause and we congregated around the table. Mario was obviously bursting with questions, but he couldn’t get a word in edgewise. It seemed everyone wanted to talk to me. They were asking what went through my mind when I first knew it was alien, did it frighten me or disturb me? I spoke about the shock of it suddenly recommencing its rotation and almost pulling off one of the Scaffy Wagon’s arms. I told them it was the most worrying moment as we were very close to it and had no idea if it was a prelude to some violent reaction to being manhandled. Mario was hanging on my every word.

Suddenly, Mrs Rae tapped her glass loudly and told us we needed to assemble for the photographer. A young woman entered with a professional camera atop a sturdy tripod.

There were a number of group photographs taken then some with the Prime Minister shaking my hand with and without Mario and then Yuri beside me. Such huge fun. I couldn’t wait to give my dad copies.

Soon the assembly broke up, the photographer had gone, and the Prime Minister came over for another word with Mario and me.

‘One day,’ he said, speaking more to Mario than me, ‘Evelyn will be world famous. As an astronaut, she already has a certain minor fame, of course, but when the news about her discovery eventually breaks it’ll be on a whole different scale, not quite equal to, but in the same stratospheric heights as the first moon astronauts. Her name will become part of world history.

‘She now has a difficult task to undertake at Goonhilly and I’m sure your support will be a great help.’

He shook Mario’s hand, then mine and held it firmly for at least thirty seconds while he concluded, ‘Good luck, Evelyn, I’ll keep in touch and I’m sure I’ll meet you… both of you, again,’ and he left.

When we exited Number Ten via the front door, a Scottish journalist shouted at me from across the road, ‘Doctor Slater… are you the first scaffy to meet the PM?’

I couldn’t help but laugh and shouted back, ‘Everyone has garbage!’

In the evening, the scaffy clip was played on Sky News every half hour. How exciting. We arrived at my parents’ house in time to be shown it by my father several times as he chirped – ‘You’re famous, Eve… my daughter’s a famous astronaut.’

The next morning, Dad ran out and bought a copy of every newspaper. Several pictures showed me with the Prime Minister, and one with Yuri and Mr Clarke, but only on the inside pages. That was the level of newsworthiness a simple returning astronaut received these days. It might be different when the honours lists were published.

I wished I could have told my dad how famous I’d eventually become and hoped the day would arrive sooner rather than later. He wasn’t getting any younger. It was down to me to prove AD1 was not a threat, and thereby have the secrecy lifted.

Christmas with my family was wonderful. Each evening, when Mario and I were alone, he quizzed me more and more about the alien craft. It was lovely to have someone with whom to share ideas about it, without a specific agenda.

When the New Year’s Honours were announced, Mum and Dad’s telephone rang non-stop. Everyone was chuffed for me, but only Dad queried the importance of the award.

Walking together on New Year’s Day, he asked, ‘Eve. Why’d you get the DCMG? It’s almost unheard of for such a prestigious award to be given for a single mission or event. CBE maybe, OBE more likely, but Dame Commander of St Michael and St George is the female equivalent of a full knighthood.’

‘Most people won’t be aware, Dad.’

‘Yes, but I’m aware and the press also will be. What did you do you haven’t told us about? Apart from Tim Peake nearly a dozen years ago, and he only got the CMG, most of your predecessor astronauts got no honour at all or an MBE at best,’ he said, gazing into my eyes in a manner to which I could never respond with a lie.

‘There was something, but I can’t talk about it and you mustn’t speculate about it either. Sorry. I won’t enter a guessing game.’

‘But I’m your dad, Evelyn,’ he always used my full name when he was trying to boss me.

‘And I’m not allowed to tell you, Dad. That must be an end to it for now. Please.’

‘But, Eve.’

‘Dad, please…’

He shook his head.

I put my hand on his shoulder, ‘You’ll know if ever I’m allowed to tell you. You’ll be the first person I’ll tell. In the meantime, please don’t ask me again. Please. It would make life difficult for me. Promise me,’ and I felt tears building in my eyes.

He looked at me, a hand on each of my shoulders, and realised he’d pushed it too far. ‘Okay, darling,’ he kissed me, and we continued our walk.

‘Oh, and it should be “Dame Darling” in future, please,’ I giggled, which broke the tension and we both laughed as we walked arm in arm along the lane enjoying the moment.

On the weekend of the fifth of January, we moved into our rented cottage in the small town of Helston in Cornwall. On the Tuesday, I’d take up my post at the Goonhilly Earth Station and the real work would begin.