And it was there that Natalie York had to sit and listen to voice tapes from the Command Module cabin, and read through and annotate typed transcripts.

Everyone was clinical, of course. Even scientific. The point was to gather data. Had the astronauts had any earlier indication that some problem was developing with the NERVA? Perhaps a close enough analysis of the tapes could tease that out, provide further clues about the cause.

And York, as capcom on the day, was the best placed to interpret their words.

She had to listen to the tapes over and over.

Every time York went through the tapes it was like reliving the whole incident. Did it fail because of me? If only Mike hadn’t frozen. If only she’d had a little more intuition about what was going on — if she could have warned Ben that the core was getting out of control, he might have overridden the automatics from the Command Module and shut the damn thing down…

Eventually York reached a point where she felt that if she had to listen to Ben’s weakening voice one more time, her heart was going to burst.

I guess our business will stay unfinished, Ben. Oh, God.

They hadn’t even let her see him before he died.

“Mom?”

“I’m coming out there, Natalie.”

“No, Mom.”

“Now, don’t try to stop me. I know you need me right now.”

“For what?”

“I know how much Ben meant to you.”

York was silent, for long moments; she even considered hanging up. “What do you know, exactly?”

“You aren’t very experienced in this stuff, are you, dear? When I saw you at that party, when you first moved into the Portofino… It was obvious, Natalie. Even if I hadn’t been your mother, I would have known. I only had to see the way you two behaved toward each other. The way you were careful not to pay each other attention. And the way, when you did come together somehow, it was as if you knew each other so well you could anticipate the other’s needs…”

Jesus. Well, I guess I’m not much of an actress. So does everybody know?

There was a rattle of keys at the door.

“I’ll have to go, Mom.”

“I’ll come out there.”

“No.”

“Ben Priest was married, wasn’t he? I read in—”

“Good-bye, Mom.” She put the phone down.

Mike Conlig stood in the middle of the room, looking at her. He carried a bag, with airline stickers that betrayed he’d been out to Marshall.

It was the first time she’d seen him since the accident. More than a month.

“You froze,” York said without hesitation. “You froze. What the hell were you thinking of, Mike?”