Burnout: the mystery of Space Shuttle STS-281 by Stephanie Osborn

Cayleigh bent over a selection of diamond solitaire rings at the jeweller's shop. The shop's huge plate glass front window framed a near-postcard view of the Sydney skyline, laid out before them.
    "Oh, darling, that's much too big," Cayleigh protested, gazing in awe at the crystalline fire set in platinum against which Anders' finger rested. "I don't need anything that big and expensive."
    "Maybe you don't need it, but I still want to get it for you." He smiled into her eyes.
    "Can you… I mean, it's very expensive, love…" Cayleigh gazed at him, troubled.
    "I'm not rich, Cayleigh, but I can afford this. Trust me," he offered, gazing down at her, eyes serious. "It isn't like I've had a lot to spend my salary on. The only thing I really own is the RV in the States, and I bought that second-hand. No car, no house. Just you. Let me do this." He took her hands in his.
    Cayleigh smiled her understanding. "All right, then, love," she agreed, nodding. "This is the one, then."
    Anders smiled in return, and waved the shop assistant over. "We'll take this one." He extracted a credit card from his wallet, and handed it to the clerk.
    The clerk returned the smile, taking the card, and went over to the cash register. Mike and Cayleigh turned to each other, hugging and kissing. "I'm so excited," Cayleigh murmured, azure eyes sparkling, matching the diamonds about them.
    "Excuse me, sir," the clerk interrupted, returning. "There seems to be a problem with your card. It's being rejected."
    "Oh," Anders remarked blankly, coming up for air. "Huh. It should be okay. I just paid it off a couple of weeks ago. Oh well, try this one." He fished out another and handed it over.
    The shop assistant swiped it, frowned in thought, then shook her head.
    "What the hell?" Anders wondered, mystified.
    "What's wrong, sweetheart?" Cayleigh asked, concerned.
    "My damn credit cards don't work," Anders informed her.
    Cayleigh's eyes got big. "Why?"
    "Don't know."
    "Sir, do you have an eelskin wallet?" the clerk asked. "Sometimes those generate enough static electricity to affect the magnetic stripes on cards."
    "That's old wives' tale bullshit," Anders protested in annoyance.
    "Well, sir, no offense, but what else could be the explanation?" the clerk asked reasonably.
    Anders started to say something, then shut his mouth, looking thoughtful. "Well…" He considered for a moment. "Hell. I'll write a check."
    "That's acceptable, sir," the clerk agreed, taking his identification to verify the check. "Congratulations to you and your fiancée."
    "Thank you," Cayleigh smiled, as Anders signed the check.
    * * * *
    In their superior's closed office, Brown and Jones sat in front of the desk, as Johnson saved the report he was writing on his computer and turned to greet them. "Well, gentlemen," he said congenially, "how are things going?"
    "Pretty good, boss," Jones answered as Brown extracted the Blackberry and laid it on the corner of the desk, so that they all could see the display. It was clear.
    "Excellent," Johnson murmured. "Down to business. How did last night go?"
    "Quite well, I thought," Brown answered. "He seemed very interested, if a bit skeptical."
    "Don't blame him there," Johnson agreed. "If I didn't have some of the information I have, I'd probably be skeptical, too. Will he follow through?"
    "We think so," Jones informed his boss. "All indications are that he is a thorough and trustworthy researcher. International reputation and all that. And we definitely grabbed his attention."
    "Good. The Main Office wants to know what the hell is going on, so keep me posted."
    "The Main Office?" Brown gasped, shocked. "You don't mean…"
    "I do mean," Johnson said, deadly serious. "Too many good people have gone missing. And some of them have turned up later, dead. The Boss wants to know why. And he's getting stonewalled by some other offices in our organisation. One even had the unmitigated gall to tell him that no mere elected official had a need to know."
    "So he