SHE’S HALFWAY AROUND THE outer corridor when Adesh Patel catches up with her.
“Good morning, Senator. Mind some company?”
“Not at all,” Gwendy says.
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.