CHAPTER 18
The Call He Doesn’t Make
NOLAN
Nolan’s therapist had told him avoidance often disguised itself as preparation.
He remembered that while arranging camera batteries by charge level instead of calling Dr. Malik.
The Challenge required pilots returning after extended inactivity to provide current medical documentation and training records. Nolan had met every requirement. No rule required him to schedule a therapy session after the first flight.
He called anyway.
Dr. Malik appeared on video from an office filled with books and one plant that had survived five years of confidential crises.
“You flew,” she said.
“I landed.”
“Interesting correction.”
“It matters.”
“What happened in your body?”
Nolan described the launch freeze, Avery’s touch on his sleeve, the field decision, the ranch landing, the laughter he had not expected.
“Did the fear decrease?”
“No.”
“What changed?”
“I could identify it before it became instruction.”
Dr. Malik nodded. “And your brother?”
“He is directing ground operations. I keep trying to audit him.”
“Does he need auditing?”
“Everyone needs auditing.”
“That is not an answer.”
Nolan looked at the battery rows. “No.”
They discussed guilt as a form of imagined control: if Nolan’s moral failure caused the crash, then perfect morality might prevent all future harm. Accepting uncertainty meant accepting that love could not buy guarantees.
“What do you want from the expedition?” Dr. Malik asked.
“To know whether I can fly.”
“You already can.”
“To know whether I should.”
“Who decides?”
Nolan thought of Sam’s insistence, Avery’s data, Marisol’s rules, his own hands on the burner.
“I do. With evidence. Not alone.”
After the call, he photographed the battery rows, then deleted the image. Preparation did not need to become proof.
Outside, Avery argued with a sensor mast in the dark. He almost walked over to fix the loose clamp.
Instead he asked, “Need help?”
She looked up, surprised.
“Yes,” she said. “Hold the light.”
He did only that.