The pathfinder probe lifted off from Vandenberg Space Force Base at 6:43 AM Pacific Time, its trajectory a perfect arc against the clear California sky. In the OrionX mission control center, technicians monitored telemetry streams that showed all systems nominal as the probe entered its preliminary Earth orbit before beginning the long journey toward Saturn.
Milo Harlan stood at the central console, officially filling the role of mission systems director that had belonged to Eli just four days earlier. Around him, screens displayed trajectory calculations, system status reports, and communication protocols that represented five years of development work and more than three billion dollars in investment.
"Telemetry looks good," announced Sarah Chen, the mission's communications director. "Probe is maintaining optimal velocity and heading. All navigation systems are responding normally."
Milo nodded, trying to project the confidence and authority that came naturally to Eli but felt forced when he attempted it. He understood the technical systems well enough, but he lacked Eli's intuitive grasp of how multiple complex systems interacted under stress conditions.
"Dr. Harlan," called James Wright from the navigation station, "we're showing a minor anomaly in the gravitational reference calculations. Nothing critical, but the probe's path is deviating from projected coordinates by approximately 0.3 degrees."
The mission control center quieted as all attention focused on the navigation displays. A 0.3-degree deviation was small—well within acceptable parameters for this stage of the mission—but in space exploration, small anomalies had a tendency to compound into major disasters.
"Run a diagnostic on the navigation algorithms," Milo ordered. "Cross-reference with the backup systems and verify our Earth-based tracking data."
Twenty miles away, in the apartment he shared with Noah, Eli watched the launch coverage on his laptop while monitoring an encrypted communication channel that Emory had established. The official NASA and OrionX feeds showed a textbook launch with all systems performing perfectly, but the channel Emory had tapped into revealed the growing concern about the navigation anomaly.
"They're seeing drift," Eli told Noah, who was reading over his shoulder while holding a cup of coffee that had gone cold. "The probe's trajectory is shifting away from the calculated path."
"Is that normal?"
"Minor deviations are expected, but this pattern..." Eli pulled up his own navigation models, running calculations based on the telemetry data that Emory was feeding him through encrypted channels. "This looks like a systematic error in the gravitational reference framework."
Noah saw the tension building in Eli's shoulders, the familiar signs of his partner's mind racing through technical possibilities and their implications. "Is it sabotage?"
"I don't know yet. It could be a programming error, a sensor calibration issue, or..." Eli paused, his fingers frozen over the keyboard as a horrifying possibility occurred to him. "Noah, what if this isn't sabotage directed at the mission? What if it's sabotage directed at me?"
"What do you mean?"
"I designed the navigation algorithms. If there's a flaw in them, if the probe fails because of systematic errors in my work, then I'm discredited as an engineer. My investigation into Meridian becomes the paranoid ramblings of someone who couldn't even design a working navigation system."
The implications hit both of them simultaneously. If the pathfinder mission failed due to apparent errors in Eli's navigation algorithms, it would not only end his career but also invalidate any accusations he might make about sabotage or conspiracy. It was a perfect way to neutralize a threat while maintaining plausible deniability.
Back in mission control, the navigation anomaly was becoming more pronounced. The probe's trajectory had shifted by nearly a full degree, and the rate of deviation was increasing rather than stabilizing.
"Dr. Harlan," James Wright called out, his voice tight with concern, "the probe is no longer following the programmed trajectory. If this continues, we'll miss the Jupiter gravity assist by a significant margin."
Milo felt sweat forming on his forehead as he realized that his first major decision as mission director might determine whether the most expensive space mission in OrionX's history succeeded or failed. Around him, technicians waited for orders while monitoring systems that were behaving in ways no one had anticipated.
"Can we correct the trajectory remotely?"
"We're trying, but the probe's navigation system seems to be ignoring our correction commands. It's as if it's following a different set of reference parameters than what we programmed."
In his apartment, Eli was conducting his own analysis of the unfolding crisis, cross-referencing the reported anomalies with his knowledge of the navigation systems' architecture. What he found made his blood run cold.
"They're not just sabotaging the mission," he told Noah. "They're sabotaging it in a way that makes it look like my fault. Every deviation from the planned trajectory can be traced back to algorithmic decisions I made during the system design phase."
"Can you fix it?"
Eli stared at his laptop screen, where lines of code scrolled past like accusations. "Not from here. I'd need direct access to the probe's systems, which means I'd need to be in mission control."
"Which you can't do because you're suspended."
"Which I can't do because walking into OrionX right now would be professional suicide." Eli closed his laptop with more force than necessary. "Unless..."
"Unless what?"
"Unless someone else goes in my place. Someone with pilot training and systems knowledge who could implement my corrections without being recognized as working on my behalf."
Noah set down his coffee cup and looked at Eli with an expression that was equal parts love and exasperation. "You want me to infiltrate OrionX mission control during an active space mission and secretly implement unauthorized modifications to a multi-billion-dollar probe."
"When you put it like that, it sounds crazy."
"It doesn't just sound crazy, Eli. It is crazy." Noah paused, studying his partner's face and seeing the desperate determination there. "Which is probably why it might actually work."