"Slava, let me take over," Maddox said, trying not to sound appalled by the lack of empathy the Russian displayed.

"Whatever you want, sir," Slava said as the two switched seats. "But you should not believe everything this man says. The Chinese are very tricky people."

"Why would they make up such a story out of the blue? I've heard about Wen Chen; I don't think he would lie about something like an accident for no reason," Maddox said.

"That is what I try to tell you. Even if we not know what it is, there must be reason for lying," Slava said. "A tricky reason."

Maddox pushed the transmit button on the radio.

"This is Wesley Maddox, I am project leader of the American space station," Maddox said. "How many men are trapped?"

"Twenty-two," Chen answered. "That's almost my entire crew currently in space."

"We should sever the connection, sir," Slava said. "Let their own country handle the situation."

"There's no way China could launch a successful ground operation in that small time window," Maddox said.

"Then they are out of luck," Slava said.

"I know you dislike China," Maddox said. "And if the roles were reversed, I'm sure the Chinese may not help us. But up here, there are no countries. Up here, we are all human and I refuse to sit here and let twenty-two men die, regardless of nationality."

"I am suspicious," Slava said. "If they let so many die already, why start to worry about saving them now?"

Maddox and Kovalchuk apparently would not agree on this subject so the project leader stopped wasting time trying to convince him.

"Chen, what are the exact coordinates for the location of your trapped men?" Maddox asked.

Upon receiving the information, Maddox input the coordinates into his computer tracking system and discovered the Chinese Space Station halfway around the Earth. Utilizing Shuttle Exploration which was docked at the corner located near the west end of the station Maddox calculated that a rescue attempt could be launched and arrive at the disaster scene in just about an hour.

"You must remember, sir, our crews are not trained with skill of rescue procedure," Slava said. The Russian was looking for any excuse to avoid helping the trapped Chinese astronauts.

"Chen, please give us time to put together a plan of action that will benefit your men," Maddox spoke into the radio. "We'll try to do this as quickly as possible."

"Please, Maddox, you must help as soon as you can," Wen Chen pleaded. Based upon the frightened tone of Chen's voice, Maddox did not think the Chinese leader could be faking his sincerity.

"Keep this frequency clear so we can contact you," Maddox said.

"Please, hurry," Chen said simply.

"I still think there is something strange," Slava said.

Maddox would be acting alone trying to help the Chinese. He turned the frequency dial on the radio and opened a line of communication with Team Four.

"This is Rookie Team," the leader of Team Four answered, referencing the nickname given to their team by Frankie Barnes before his untimely death.

"What is the current status of your team?" Maddox asked tersely.

The usual conversation between the project leader and his crew leaders was much friendlier so when Maddox was brief, the leader of Team Four knew something was wrong.

"We were just about to begin prep work for the start of our next shift," the team leader said. "It's scheduled to start in half an hour."

"That shift is cancelled," Maddox said. "Tell your men to prepare the shuttle for an immediate launch."

"What's going on?" Team Four leader finally asked.

Maddox gave a brief account about the distress call from the Chinese station and explained that Team Four was currently their best option to launch a rescue attempt.

"I know you and your men aren't trained for something like this, but we can't sit back and let twenty men die if there's a way we can help," Maddox said.

"I understand," the team leader said. "I will have my team ready and waiting what to do next."

James Armour was in the middle of a videoconference with the heads of both the CIA and FBI when one of his assistants burst into his office on the ground floor of the main NASSA building.

"Charles, I'm in the middle of a very important meeting," Armour told his assistant.

"I'm sorry, sir," the young man said. "But we just received a call from Wesley Maddox. There's a major crisis in space that requires your immediate assistance."

Immediately recalling the accident that took the lives of two men, Armour excused himself from the meeting and followed his assistant out of the office. By the time they reached mission control, it was the much younger man who rushed to keep up with the old astronaut.

Mission control was buzzing. Armour knew something big was happening but he did not sense the somber tone that overtook the room after last year's accident. Rather than ask anyone what was happening, Armour decided to hear the news directly from Maddox, who still waited on the radio.

"Wesley, this is James Armour. What happened?"

"Approximately ten minutes ago, we received a distress call from Wen Chen," Maddox explained.

"The same Wen Chen in charge of space construction for the Chinese?" Armour asked. The head of NASSA was familiar with every detail that America learned about their Chinese counterparts.

"That was how he identified himself," Maddox said. "There was some kind of explosion aboard one of the Chinese vessels resulting in twenty-two men being trapped with less than two hours of breathable oxygen."

"Why did they come to us?" Armour asked. "Why can't one of their other crews make a rescue attempt?"

"Because they only have one crew currently in space and that's the crew in trouble," Maddox said. "I already have Team Four and Shuttle Exploration on standby to launch a rescue operation."

Despite the bad feelings Armour had toward the Chinese, he agreed with Maddox that trying to help was the right thing to do. But he also would not risk the lives of his men without Presidential approval and assurances from his workers that Team Four would face little risk.

"Give us a few minutes down here. I'll leave this frequency open so you can hear what's going on. Intercede with anything you might be thinking," Armour told Maddox. The head of NASSA turned to his logistical team for analysis of the situation. "Have you run the numbers on attempting such an operation?"

A short balding man typed on his computer even while he announced his findings to Armour.

"From a statistical standpoint, attempting such a rescue could cause long-term problems, but no problems we couldn't deal with," the man said. "Shuttle Exploration has plenty of fuel for the required engine firing to propel them fast enough to reach the stranded Chinese in about an hour. They have enough fuel to return to the American space station, but just barely. Exploration's fuel tanks would then be empty and would not have enough juice to make their scheduled return trip to Earth at the end of the month."

"And how would we solve that problem?" Armour asked.

"A deep-space refuel," the man answered. "Not the safest or most run-of-the-mill procedure, but one we've had to do a few times."

"What other factors are we looking at?"

"Room aboard Exploration," the man answered. "With the current ten-person crew and two pilots, the shuttle is already a bit pressed for space. Add another twenty-two men for an indeterminate amount of time and that place will not be comfortable for anyone. All of the shuttles are sparse on food and water supplies so tripling the number of people on Exploration will quickly diminish their supplies. Again, a problem that can be overcome.

"Besides that, we run into international problems about what to do with the Chinese workers once rescued and returned to Earth, but that would be a job better handled by the politicians," the balding man said as he continued to type away.

A voice from space mission control came over the radio again but this time it was the accented voice of Slava Kovalchuk, a man whom Armour greatly trusted.

"I would like to make opinion known that I am against such operation," Slava said. "If our men were trapped, the Chinese would not answer our distress call, let alone delay construction of their space station."

In the rush to figure out a way to launch a rescue, the thought of construction delays to the American station hadn't entered Armour's mind. But considering what Armour knew about the comet and the need to complete the space station on schedule, Armour was not sure whether launching a rescue attempt should take precedence for the American crew. If something unforeseen happened to Team Four and Shuttle Exploration in the process of attempting a rescue operation, the negative backlash to the construction schedule could prove crippling.

But that was only one factor that Armour pondered; there were too many other questions left unanswered.

"Has anybody gotten in contact with China yet to confirm the explosion?" Armour asked.

A middle-aged woman with glasses in the back of the room nervously raised her hand. She worked as the foreign affairs consultant for mission control but had never been called upon by the ex-astronaut for anything. Armour did not even know her name but was about to find out if she was good at her job.

"I tried to contact somebody from China's mission control," she said. "But as you'd expect, getting contact information for such a location isn't as easy as looking up the number in a phone book. I went through China's foreign affairs division and explained the problem but they still refuse to put me through to anyone in their space division."

"So you couldn't corroborate whether this distress call from Wen Chen was genuine?" Armour asked.

"Not from China's space agency," the woman said. "But after I explained the situation about the accident, I convinced them to let me speak with someone important. I was connected with China's Minister of Foreign Affairs, a man named Lu Chun."

Armour recognized the name, remembering Chun as one of the men that President Marshall met during his visit to China. He also recalled that Chun was unfriendly toward the President, his feelings toward America openly hostile.

"Chun seemed to think a distress call could not be real," the woman said. "when I asked him to check, he became disagreeable, even a bit angry. Again, I told him that if such a distress call was genuine and the Chinese astronauts did need help, America could not do so without authentication from their country that there really was trouble.

"Chun finally told me he would make a few calls and put me on hold. When you were speaking with Mr. Maddox a few minutes earlier, Chun came back on the phone with a new attitude. He seemed much more annoyed this time."

"What did he say?" Armour asked, becoming agitated that the Chinese made things so difficult when America was only trying to help.

"He told us to mind our own business," the woman said. "He accused me of making up lies to discredit the Chinese space agency and said nothing could be further from the truth than the thought of an accident aboard China's station. The only thing he would admit was that their people were having communication problems with the leader of space construction, but that was nothing out of the ordinary. Then he told me never to call again and hung up before I could say a word."

The situation grew stranger with every passing moment, which made Armour's ultimate decision that much more difficult. The reaction from Lu Chun made little sense, especially because America was trying to help. Armour's gut told him that Wen Chen and his astronauts really were in trouble, but China was too prideful to admit fault and ask for help. Wesley Maddox obviously had the same thoughts.

"I believe the Chinese are in trouble, despite what you're hearing from their agency," Maddox said. "Just say the word, Mr. Armour and I'll tell my crew to launch."

Regardless of his gut feeling and his natural reaction to send help, James Armour knew there were extenuating circumstances that had to be dealt with. If the Chinese had two hours of oxygen and a rescue mission would take only an hour to arrive, Armour still had forty-five minutes before a decision was required. And that meant he had enough time to get proof and converse with President Marshall about what should be done.

"Have your men ready to launch at a moment's notice," Armour directed Maddox. "I'm going to check some things down here before sending Exploration."

"Yes, sir," Maddox said, disappointment evident in his voice.

Thinking on the fly, Armour barked orders at the space observation section of mission control. His people began to work frantically as he left the room. Armour needed to make his call to the President in private.

The communications room aboard mission control for the Chinese space station was state of the art. There were three large radio systems, all of which were currently in use by Wen Chen. Wen had not heard from the Americans for nearly ten minutes, and he left the frequency of the first radio open for them. The second radio was connected to ground control in Beijing, who desperately tried to speak with the space leader. While Chen listened to every word they said, including direct orders from his superiors, he had not answered their calls for the past half-hour. During the last few minutes, ground control doubled their efforts to contact him but Wen still refused to answer, no matter what the communications officer in the room said to him.

The Chinese project leader was too busy using the third radio, where he was in contact with his twin brother, Ming. While growing up, Ming was always the stronger of the two, both mentally and physically. Wen was surprised when he was named project leader instead of his brother. Ming took the announcement in stride though, proud for his older brother of twenty minutes. Ming was there for Wen throughout construction, providing guidance and assistance and doing everything he could to make sure construction continued as planned.

Ming's brotherly support and unquestioning loyalty were just two of the reasons Wen now fell apart on the inside. The only thing that kept him together was faith, faith that America would come through and save his brother and the other twenty-one men.

"Please tell me the Americans are coming," Ming said.

Wen could hear that his brother tried to remain calm and strong but there was no way Ming could hide his true feelings from his twin. In the background, Wen heard some of the other trapped men calling out in fright.

"They will come," Wen said. "Make sure to calm your men. The more upset they are, the faster they will use their oxygen."

"I have explained that to them," Ming said. "But some refuse to relax, despite what can help them. I can no longer worry about them. I am staying calm so that my oxygen will last as long as possible."

"I am relieved your suit was not damaged in the explosion," Wen said. "I only wish they had more of a charge."

The Chinese spacecraft, Red Glory, became stricken when their oxygen generator fuse system suffered a complete meltdown. Luckily for the twenty-two men aboard, Ming was performing a systems check at the time of the meltdown. As the amount of oxygen aboard the ship rapidly diminished, Ming wakened his exhausted workers and ordered them to don their space suits.

The crew had put in a fifteen-hour shift a few hours before being woken by Ming. Since the Chinese were currently between crew shifts, the only crew in space was forced to work dangerously long shifts, shifts longer than the workaholic Chinese originally anticipated. The crews worked until their space suits were depleted of power and oxygen, which ended up disastrous for them following the meltdown.

Since the crew was only back aboard Red Glory a few hours, their space suits did not have nearly enough recharge time. In a creative bit of ingenuity, the Chinese designed a spacesuit far superior to any the Americans or hated Russians ever had, a suit with a lengthy power supply that controlled everything from temperature systems to lengthy oxygen supplies to a unique propulsion system that allowed the Chinese astronauts greater flexibility in their movements. The only downside to their suits was the problem that the men now faced: the lengthy amount of time it took to recharge the suit's power supply, nearly ten hours on the chargers to bring them to full power.

But it was still a good thing that Ming and his men unhooked the suits from the chargers and put them on when they did. Fate seemed to perfectly plan the total power failure of Red Glory to occur right after the men dressed in their suits. The meltdown in the oxygen generator spread to other essential systems aboard their spacecraft, which soon went completely dark. Although Ming was frightened about what was happening, he refused to give in to the fear. He was made leader of this team upon joining them and it was his job to plan a way out of this mess.

Ming hadn't lived aboard the Red Glory as long as the other men, but still maneuvered his way through the darkness until he found the small communications room. The lights were still aglow in this room, which ran off an alternate energy source located away from the rest of the frayed systems.

Before contacting his brother, Ming tried to devise other plans to save himself and his men. If they could somehow get out to space, Ming considered an attempt to use the propulsion systems in their suits to reach his brother's craft. Twenty-two men could not fit aboard such a small ship, though, and that was assuming the suits had enough juice to make it that far. After a few quick calculations in his head, Ming realized that that would be a lost cause. The propulsion systems in the suits used up the most energy and would drain the oxygen supplies before any of them reached Wen's ship.

The only option Ming could imagine would be to fix the broken systems but his crew did not have the time or materials to complete such a feat. The crew would be lucky if they had enough time to remove the faulty wiring from the oxygen system, let alone any of the other power systems. The last option was to call Wen and hope his twin brother could somehow convince the Americans to help.

And that was exactly what Wen did. But the Chinese project leader still had not heard from the Americans after what felt like the longest ten minutes of his life.

"Don't worry, Ming," Wen said. "Two hours of oxygen will give the Americans plenty of time to reach you."

"I still cannot believe our superiors allowed you to ask for help from the Americans," Ming said. "Half of their men are Russians and they would likely kill us before ever helping us."

The junior communications officer keeping the radios in working order finally interrupted Wen's conversation with his brother.

"Is it the Americans?" Wen asked, holding the mute button on the radio so his brother could not hear.

"No, sir," the young man said. "It is our superiors back in China. I think you'd better listen to this."

"Hold on one moment," Wen said, releasing the mute button. "Ming, I will be back. I am receiving an urgent call from China that I need to take. Just stay relaxed and breathe slowly."

"Please tell the Americans to hurry."

Wen floated across the room to the other radio, where he heard the same message being repeated.

"Wen Chen, this is command. If you are in contact with the Americans, we order you to cease all talks with them. If your men are in trouble, you must deal with the problem and not ask for help from our enemies. If you continue to speak with America, you will be treated as a traitor and given a traitor's punishment upon your return to Earth. The same punishment will befall any man helping you. Respond immediately.

"Wen Chen, this is command..."

In the back of Wen's mind, he realized what his punishment would be from the moment he first radioed Wesley Maddox. But to hear it spoken out loud shook him, at least until he realized why he was supposedly committing treason to his country. But he would deal with the consequences of his actions later, hopefully with Ming by his side.

"Maintain communications blackout," Wen commanded the young communications officer.

"But, sir. If I help you, they will label me a traitor as well," he said. "And you know what they do to traitors. They will imprison my family."