milling about outside the committee room, and went down the stairs towards the exit. As he left the building and set off back to the hotel, there was a set to his jaw, and a purpose in his stride, that had not been there that morning.
CHAPTER SIX
Matt lifted the glass to the sunset in his hotel room. He watched the bright bubbles rise through the golden liquid and thought: I have never seen a beer, such as this.
If you’ve never been on the borderline, he thought, you’ll never know what it’s like to crave a drink.
You’ll never know that feeling of a cold beer bottle, and the way that the dew forms on its cold outside, and the beauty of the bubbles as they rise through the liquid, forming a glistening foam.
All day he had sat and listened to the dry presentations of the investigation board, and all day he had been thinking of the beers in his hotel room, waiting for his return.
He sighed. It was going to be very hard, but it had to be tonight, or the next few months would be one long struggle, one postponed deadline after another, all the way to launch day.
There was no alcohol allowed in space; in the lower pressure and oxygen-enhanced atmosphere aboard spacecraft, it had an even worse effect than it did here on Earth.
He had the beers lined up, cold and glistening, waiting for him in the fridge in his hotel room, waiting for him to open them and pour the ice-cold liquid into the cold glass (carefully placed in the fridge that morning, to make sure it was cold for his return).
He knew that he had been planning for the familiar pattern of failure, followed by losing himself in drink, instead of the possibility of success. It was a message that he should start getting his life back in shape again.
Matt tilted the bottle, and the remaining pale liquid gushed and fretted into the ice-cold glass.
I have never seen a beer, such as this.
He raised the glass to his lips. The afterglow of the sunset on the Potomac River shone through the beer, turning it to shimmering gold, and he knew it would be like the nectar of heaven.
Tears formed in the corners of his eyes, and he blinked. He wanted the beer so badly that it almost hurt.
If you’ve never been on the borderline, you’ll never know.
I have never seen a beer …
… such as this.
Matt lowered the glass from his lips, and walked to the bathroom. He stared at his reflection in the mirror above the washbasin, at the eyes looking back at him. There was something in them, a sparkle and vitality that he hadn’t seen for a very long time. They were like the eyes of a familiar but long-lost friend, smiling back at him.
They would be pressing drinks on him all this evening, and it would be hard to turn them down, especially when they had so much to celebrate. Well, they were just going to have to understand.
He tilted the glass in his hand, and poured the contents slowly and deliberately into the basin, and watched as the foaming liquid ran round the plughole, and drained away.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘Steady now.’
Captain Clare Foster’s voice was quiet and reassuring in the darkness of the cockpit. It was just loud enough to be heard above the constant hiss of air and the quiet hum of instruments from a spacecraft in flight.
In the pilot’s seat, the young lieutenant was tense with concentration as he completed the gentle roll to the right. His left hand moved slightly on the sidestick controller, halting the craft’s rotation. He glanced up briefly at the scene outside.
Clare sat in the right-hand seat, on the flight deck of the landing craft. She looked down to check the approach display, and the dim glow outlined the good bone structure of her face. Her dark blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail that fell past the collar of her flight overalls; it had grown longer in the last few months, and it needed cutting. She looked across at the pilot.
‘Try to relax your grip on the controls,’ she said, glancing outside as the enormous bulk of the asteroid
CHAPTER SIX
Matt lifted the glass to the sunset in his hotel room. He watched the bright bubbles rise through the golden liquid and thought: I have never seen a beer, such as this.
If you’ve never been on the borderline, he thought, you’ll never know what it’s like to crave a drink.
You’ll never know that feeling of a cold beer bottle, and the way that the dew forms on its cold outside, and the beauty of the bubbles as they rise through the liquid, forming a glistening foam.
All day he had sat and listened to the dry presentations of the investigation board, and all day he had been thinking of the beers in his hotel room, waiting for his return.
He sighed. It was going to be very hard, but it had to be tonight, or the next few months would be one long struggle, one postponed deadline after another, all the way to launch day.
There was no alcohol allowed in space; in the lower pressure and oxygen-enhanced atmosphere aboard spacecraft, it had an even worse effect than it did here on Earth.
He had the beers lined up, cold and glistening, waiting for him in the fridge in his hotel room, waiting for him to open them and pour the ice-cold liquid into the cold glass (carefully placed in the fridge that morning, to make sure it was cold for his return).
He knew that he had been planning for the familiar pattern of failure, followed by losing himself in drink, instead of the possibility of success. It was a message that he should start getting his life back in shape again.
Matt tilted the bottle, and the remaining pale liquid gushed and fretted into the ice-cold glass.
I have never seen a beer, such as this.
He raised the glass to his lips. The afterglow of the sunset on the Potomac River shone through the beer, turning it to shimmering gold, and he knew it would be like the nectar of heaven.
Tears formed in the corners of his eyes, and he blinked. He wanted the beer so badly that it almost hurt.
If you’ve never been on the borderline, you’ll never know.
I have never seen a beer …
… such as this.
Matt lowered the glass from his lips, and walked to the bathroom. He stared at his reflection in the mirror above the washbasin, at the eyes looking back at him. There was something in them, a sparkle and vitality that he hadn’t seen for a very long time. They were like the eyes of a familiar but long-lost friend, smiling back at him.
They would be pressing drinks on him all this evening, and it would be hard to turn them down, especially when they had so much to celebrate. Well, they were just going to have to understand.
He tilted the glass in his hand, and poured the contents slowly and deliberately into the basin, and watched as the foaming liquid ran round the plughole, and drained away.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘Steady now.’
Captain Clare Foster’s voice was quiet and reassuring in the darkness of the cockpit. It was just loud enough to be heard above the constant hiss of air and the quiet hum of instruments from a spacecraft in flight.
In the pilot’s seat, the young lieutenant was tense with concentration as he completed the gentle roll to the right. His left hand moved slightly on the sidestick controller, halting the craft’s rotation. He glanced up briefly at the scene outside.
Clare sat in the right-hand seat, on the flight deck of the landing craft. She looked down to check the approach display, and the dim glow outlined the good bone structure of her face. Her dark blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail that fell past the collar of her flight overalls; it had grown longer in the last few months, and it needed cutting. She looked across at the pilot.
‘Try to relax your grip on the controls,’ she said, glancing outside as the enormous bulk of the asteroid
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