The Boy Who Has No Belief - Victoria Quinn Page 0,101
strung out. “Hey, Liz. We need to be quiet, alright? Not a sound.”
Liz zipped her lips and gave a nod.
I turned to Emerson. “Just stay back here.”
“We’ll stay out of the way.” She kept her hand on Lizzie’s shoulders.
I turned away.
She grabbed me by the arm, pulled me back, and gave me a kiss. “We’re proud of you.”
I stared into her eyes for a moment, but I really didn’t have time for this. I had a job to do. “I love you.”
Her eyes softened. “I love you too.”
I turned around and walked back to the middle of the floor and faced the feed. “Let’s start the clock.”
After the final safety sequence, the launch began.
I stood beside the director, and we stared at the feed together, both wearing headpieces so we could hear the communications between us and the launch site.
5…4…3…2…1.
“Boosters have ignited.” I could hear the words over the comms. The TV showed the flames burning from the boosters, using enough fuel to fill a swimming pool in a second. “We have lift-off.”
The rocket slowly rose from the ground, lifting the weight of the capsule away from the ground and into the air. The camera feed switched, and we saw the rocket rise from the ground, moving hundreds of feet in seconds, and then disappear into the clouds. The sound of the burn was audible from the mics on the rocket.
It kept going, moving past the clouds and hitting the trajectory perfectly.
I breathed a sigh of relief because I’d lost sleep over nothing. Everything was going perfectly—
It exploded.
The trail of smoke was disrupted as one booster went in a different direction. The flames ceased, and then pieces of the rocket started to fall. The emergency capsule carrying the dummies never deployed.
I stopped breathing.
Actually stopped.
My arms dropped to my sides, and I stared in horror at the screen as my design exploded and turned into debris and smoke. I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t even blink. Everyone went quiet, and some of the crew turned to look at me, as if they needed to see my reaction, see the esteemed Derek Hamilton look at his failure. “What the fuck happened? Did the capsule deploy, and we can’t see it?”
One of the guys responded on the line. “We can confirm there was no deployment. The capsule burned in the explosion.”
My hand moved over my mouth, rubbing the coarse hair of my jawline, feeling so much dread, shame, and straight-up pain. I hadn’t lost a rocket since the Odyssey, and now the rocket I’d slaved over had erupted just seconds after launch. I closed my eyes, feeling sick to my stomach, feeling like I couldn’t take another breath if I tried.
It went quiet, really quiet.
I had no orders. I had no questions. We wouldn’t know exactly what happened until we studied the data up until the point of the explosion. “Get me answers. Now.”
26
Emerson
I knew I couldn’t say anything to Derek.
He was in the middle of the chaos, and an embrace from me would only anger him. There was nothing I could do for him, and I knew I should excuse myself and give him space. I took Lizzie out of the building and to the SUV where Ronnie was waiting.
Lizzie was quiet, the dismal mood from the room absorbing into her skin. “Will Derek be okay?”
“I’m sure he will be.”
“I know how much that rocket meant to him.”
“I’m sure that whatever went wrong wasn’t his fault. Once he gets that confirmation, he’ll feel better.” At least, I hoped that was what would happen. I knew this would provoke him into a deep hole of depression, and it would consume him just the way the Odyssey did. He viewed the world in black-and-white. That rocket exploded—and he was to blame.
“I hope so. He looked so devastated.”
“Yeah…”
Ronnie and I pulled up to the curb, but Derek didn’t come out.
We waited a couple minutes, but he still didn’t show.
Ronnie turned to look at me. “I have a feeling he won’t be in the office this week.”
I pulled out my phone and texted him. Derek, we’re outside.
His response was instant. Go without me. I don’t need a ride this week.
I knew this was bad, really bad. I wanted to say something good, or just hop out of the car and go to him in his penthouse.
But he sent a preemptive text. Don’t come up here, Emerson.
I turned away from the window and looked at Ronnie. “Let’s go without him.”