The Last Second (A Brit in the FBI #6)(36)

“How did you feel when you were chosen for the program?”

“Transcendent.”

“And how did you feel when you were told you had to rotate off the space station and come home for evaluation?”

“Furious. It wasn’t fair. They made me come back because they thought I was crazy. I am not crazy. How could I be? Look at all I’ve accomplished. I’ve never had an incident in the past. Why would I start now?”

“Dr. Patel. You had a severe trauma in an unfamiliar environment. Sometimes trauma can cause a dissociative state. It’s the mind’s way of helping you cope.”

“I know what a dissociative state is. I had all the psychological training before I went up to the space station. They only choose those who exhibit the proper mental capacities for space flight. And once they’d screened out those who wouldn’t be able to handle it, they trained us to handle it all. We were warned about hallucinations, depression, claustrophobia, anger, anxiety. How lonely we would feel, how disconnected. We still don’t understand exactly what microgravity does to the body, to the brain, to the blood, don’t know how to mitigate these very real emotions.

“But I know myself. That’s not what happened. I wasn’t suffering from anything.”

“Tell me what you think happened.”

“It’s not what I think, it’s what I know. I went on the walk, did my assigned repair. I was finished, getting in place to come back inside. My hand slipped and I missed the rung. The negative inertia pushed me away from the ladder. I began to float away, and my tether snapped. I had no way to get back to the station. And then a hand gripped mine, and that’s when they spoke.”

“They?”

“The Numen.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX


Dr. Fontaine said, without a hitch, without an ounce of disbelief, “The Numen? Did they name themselves, or is this a name you gave them?”

“They identified themselves, I believe.”

“All right. Go on.”

“They said, ‘You are not going to die today. But you must tell them we’re here.’ And that’s what I’ve been trying to do, and everyone thinks I’ve gone mad. That I have some sort of space sickness that’s impaired me. But it’s not true.”

“You’re getting upset. Try to calm yourself. Square breathing. Of course you know what that is.”

Nevaeh obediently breathed in for a count of four, held her breath for four, blew it out, then sat. She did this twice more before Dr. Fontaine said, “All right. That’s better. Now. When you hear the Numen, are they external to your body? Or does it feel like your own internal voice speaking to you?”

“They’re external, they’re not inside me.”

“And how often do they speak? Do they wait until they are spoken to, or do they interrupt you?”

“It’s often in response to my speaking to them.”

“Do they tell you to do things?”

Nevaeh needed to be careful here. The longer she was away from space, the quieter the voices got, and she hated it, like missing an arm.

She said simply, “They want me to keep telling people of their existence. They mean us no harm. They want to help us achieve peace.”

“If you’re walking down a busy street, could you talk to them?”

“No. I need quiet. Calm. They don’t like the noise. That’s part of what they want, for us to turn down the noise. All the phones and computers and satellites—it’s stopping them from being able to talk to more people. They see nothing but a violent ending for our species from the takeover of technology. They know there’s no end in sight.”

“So they’ve made contact with people before?”

“Many years ago, a man, another astronaut. I believe it was Buzz Aldrin. The original report in essence said he’d passed lie detector tests over claims they experienced alien encounters. It said experts believed the astronauts were convinced about what they saw. If you don’t believe me, you can access his original statement.” She paused, shrugged. “After he underwent incredible internal pressure, he repudiated his initial report. He was afraid, obviously, but I am not. Do you believe me?”

Nevaeh saw Dr. Fontaine’s eyes widen, though of course she’d been trained to school her face.

“Nevaeh, it doesn’t matter what I believe. We’re here to discuss what you believe. You’ve clearly done your research. Do you think you’re exhibiting signs of schizophrenia, or schizoaffective disorder?”

“No, I don’t. I feel completely normal. My cognitive function is not impaired. I feel no decompensation of my abilities. I have no symptoms of any sort of mental illness other than the occasional conversation with some space travelers.”

She sounded bitter, she knew she did. She hadn’t chosen to be the conduit through which the Numen held a discourse with Earth. At times she wished they hadn’t chosen her. But of course, they’d saved her. How could she repudiate them?

Dr. Fontaine said, “I wasn’t entirely forthcoming earlier. I have taken a cursory look at the records you provided me from your doctors at NASA. It’s well-documented that sometimes astronauts hallucinate in space. They feel that’s what happened. On your EVA, you suffered from a hallucination, and it has cemented itself in your imagination and become real for you. This is not unheard of.”