The Calculating Stars (Lady Astronaut, #1)(29)

“How do you know it was me?”

“First, we’ve been married for five years. Second…” He kicked his shoes off. “You were one of two women in the room, and I don’t think you were the one speaking Taiwanese.”

“Li ki si.” Helen had taught me to swear, which came in handy with some of the engineers. And occasionally my husband. “Anyway. I’m allowed to be excited that the mission was a success, and I’m not evil. Or at least not enough to wish him dead for real. Mostly.”

“Hm.” He crossed the room and bent down to kiss me, tasting of good scotch. “Mostly evil? Yes, I can agree with—ow! My point’s proven.”

Reaching up, I undid the top button of his collar. “I think…” The next button followed, exposing his clavicle and the top of his undershirt. “… it depends on how one defines evil.”

Nathaniel traced a finger along the neckline of my nightgown. “I am happy to entertain your definition.”

“Well…” I reached the last button and tugged his shirt free of his trousers. “For instance. Let’s say that one learns something during a press conference that her husband really should have told her.”

Nathaniel’s hand paused at the strap of my nightgown. “Interesting example.” He slid the strap off and bent down to kiss my exposed shoulder. “I might need more specifics.”

I inhaled, breathing in muskiness from his aftershave, and the sweet earthiness of a fine cigar. “For instance, the fact that they are expanding the astronaut corps and removing the test pilot requirement.” With my face pressed into his hair, I found his belt by touch. The fabric beneath it was already strained out of shape.

My God, I loved a successful rocket launch. Nathaniel nibbled a path from my shoulder to the base of my neck, sending warm currents down to my toes. “Let’s say that expanding the astronaut corps was contingent on completion of a mission. Would withholding information about the expansion be considered evil, if the motivation was to keep someone’s hopes from rising?”

“Mm … rising hopes.” I released the zipper on his trousers, and Nathaniel’s hands tightened on my upper arms.

“And would that be further mitigated if, for instance, a certain briefcase contained an application? For someone who was, say, a World War II pilot, had logged the requisite flight time, and fit the right height and weight requirements? Ah—oh … oh God.” He cleared his throat, and his breath was hot against my neck. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Confirmed: evilness mitigated. But…” I slid back on the bed, pulling my nightgown off as I did. With my arms over my head and the cool night air bringing my breasts to full attention, I also commanded my husband’s … full attention. “It’s the action one would take to protect a child. Am I a child?”

“God. No.” He shrugged out of his dress shirt and peeled his undershirt off. The bedside lamp caressed the curve and flex of his abdomen. After the Meteor, Nathaniel had begun working out. He was not alone in that drive to be more prepared for “what if” scenarios, but, my heavens … did I ever appreciate the result.

I threw my nightgown to the side. His gaze stayed fixed on me, and his mouth hung a little open, as if his brain were trying to acquire extra oxygen to compensate for a redirected blood flow.

“So, I have to ask, why wouldn’t one tell an adult?” I regretted the question almost immediately, because this one made him pause. On the other hand, he paused in the act of sliding his trousers and underwear off in one motion, so I could appreciate the V of his abdomen as it joined his pelvis, and the dark hair at the base.

“Because they were going to cancel the entire program. If the launch had failed.” By “fail,” he meant: if Parker had died. Nathaniel slid his trousers the rest of the way off. “The snow. People think that the warming isn’t coming. So…”

I reached for him and he slid between my legs, pushing me back to lie on the bed with his warmth pressed against my full length. Wrapping one thigh around his leg, I pressed up into Nathaniel and his eyes fluttered closed. “Warming is definitely coming.”

“Yes.” He shifted so he could reach between us. His fingers found the bright bundle of delight between my legs and … sparked my ignition sequence. Everything else could wait.

“Oh … oh God. We are Go for launch.”





ELEVEN





IAC IS SPURRING ROCKET PROGRAM


75 to 105 Vehicles Will Be Fired in 3-Year Schedule, Chief Says

By BILL BECKER

Special to The National Times.

KANSAS CITY, KS, March 3, 1956—The International Aerospace Coalition plans to launch 75 to 105 major rockets in the next three years, thereby expecting to have a colony on the moon by 1960.

“Do you remember where you were when the Meteor struck?” At the front of the synagogue, our rabbi looked over the congregation.

I don’t know about anyone else, but my eyes instantly burned with the threat of tears. Of course I remembered.

Behind me, I heard another woman sniffle. I wondered where she had been four years ago on March 3rd, 1952. Had she been in bed with her husband? Had she been preparing breakfast for her children? Or had she been one of the millions of people who didn’t hear about it until later?