“Are you all right, Dr. Brown?” the general asked, obviously impatient to dispense with the preliminaries.
Brown nodded but did not reply. “In that case,” General Borzov continued in a measured tone, “perhaps you could tell me what you were thinking about when you ordered Yamanaka to go to manual. It might be better if we discussed it here, away from the rest of the crew.”
“Did you even see the warning lights?” Borzov added after a lengthy silence. “Did you consider, even for a moment, that the safety of the other cosmonauts might be jeopardized by the maneuver?”
Dr. David Brown eventually looked over at Borzov with a sullen, baleful stare. When he finally spoke in his own defense, his speech was clipped and strained, belying the emotion he was suppressing. “It seemed reasonable to move the helicopter just a little closer to the target. We had some clearance left and it was the only way that we could have captured the biot. Our mission, after all, is to bring home—”
“You don’t need to tell me what our mission is,” Borzov interrupted with passion. “Remember, I helped write the policies myself. And I will remind you again that the number one priority, at all times, is the safety of the crew. Especially during these simulations… I must tell you that I am absolutely flabbergasted by this crazy stunt of yours. The helicopter is damaged, Tabori is injured, you’re lucky that nobody was killed.”
David Brown was no longer paying attention to General Borzov. He had turned around to finish stuffing his parachute into its transparent package. From the set of his shoulders and the energy he was expending on this routine task, it was obvious that he was very angry.