Black Infinity Page 7

  “Make sure Harris is ready to go with his bang kit,” Neil said, rather informally.

  “We’re ready,” Carter responded.

  “On our way, Jules.” Neil spoke loudly to ensure the mic picked him up. They were now on automatic broadcast and his mic would mute slightly to compensate for the rocket’s motor exhaust that was heard behind them.

  The orb entered the room, seemingly missing Jules, and oriented itself apparently to face Maria, based on her position, and the thin ray of blue light that was scanning back and forth over her.

  “Don’t do anything yet, Commander,” Maria said, lifting her hands away from the console and showing them to the alien orb in a palms-out display meant to say, we mean you no harm.

  Either the orb didn’t understand the friendly, human gesture or it didn’t care. A small portal on the front, just above what resembled a light-emitting diode, opened and a small but potent dart shot out, hitting Maria in her left shoulder blade, piercing the suit, skin, and tissue in one swift blow. The dart was attached to a barely visible line of string that appeared to have a very high tensile strength.

  “No!” Jules yelled.

  “Oh my God,” Hill said from his observation console on board their ship.

  Jules moved into action, but another blue light ray shot into the room from the corridor. Taking her eyes from the small, red blood spot that was staining Maria’s suit, she saw a second orb enter the room; this time, it turned to face her, and a ray of blue light shot across her body and refracted off her helmet’s tinted lining.

  Jumping, she tried to get out of the way when a small portal opened in the same place and manner as the first orb. She managed to move faster than normal in the sub-g environment because, while the atmosphere was both composed of, and pressurized to, something approximating Earth, the gravity remained at 38 percent of their home planet.

  The dart hit her in her calf and stuck into her flesh. The pain was excruciating, and she yelled when it hit: “Damn you!”

  Her momentum carried her to the center console not far from where Maria was being dragged towards the first orb and interior corridor. It seemed the dart was meant to hit her torso, but her quick move had left it off target, and it had caught her in her lower leg.

  The first orb reeled Maria closer to it, then backed into the hallway while dragging her with it. Suddenly, it stopped and the gravity in the entire command center and hallway went from 38 percent of Earth gravity to zero-g. Maria started to float, and once she was parallel to the orb, it resumed its journey down the corridor and through the alien construct. Quickly, the orb and Maria disappeared from sight.

  “Where’s it taking her?” Doctor Hill asked. “Commander, can you free yourself?”

  “Shut up,” Jules said, no longer in control of her emotions and completely engrossed in her current crisis. She was weightless and found herself bobbing along the floor as the orb attempted to drag her back into the corridor.

  Using the console for leverage in the now zero-g environment, Jules pushed off horizontally towards the outer airlock doors that were still shut. Her movement yanked the thin line and shot another wave of intense pain up her leg as it yanked the barb violently.

  The orb’s positioning was neither absolute nor did it have a heavy mass. Her kick caused the orb to follow Newton’s third law of physics: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. The orb was pulled further into the room along one axis, while Jules pushed into the other.

  Once she impacted the door, she planted her good foot and leveled herself horizontally at the orb. Both she and the orb were in the middle of the vertical axis, about five feet off the floor and ceiling. With as much effort as she could muster, she propelled herself forward at the alien device and readied her hydraulic hammer.

  She hit the orb squarely on its side as it was starting to turn and orient itself towards her, the egg-shaped nose pointed in her direction. With all her kinetic force, Jules drove the orb into the far wall, bringing her hammer up and activating the power button as she did, driving the nose of the hammer into the side of the orb.

  “Kick its ass, Commander!” Hill yelled out through the comms, all formality and protocol now thrown out the proverbial window.

  “Son of a bitch!” Jules yelled at the orb, as if it were sentient. She was fully expecting to bounce off the damn thing and find herself flying through the zero-g space away from it, the same way she had trained for more than a year in weightless environments. Instead, when the hammer hit, she drove it home and the orb cracked, spilling some sort of clear fluid from it. As soon as this happened, the weightless environment returned to normal, and she fell to the ground with a thud, as did the alien orb, its mechanical or biological fluid covering both her and the floor.

  “My God, are you alright, Commander?” Hill asked.

  Someone also said, “Did you see that?”

  There was a pause as Jules sat up and looked at her bloodied leg. A wave of pain shot over her, and she instantly wanted to find her med kit and shoot a dose of morphine into her body. It took a moment for her to compose herself, and she said for the record, “I think that counts as first contact.”

  “Damn right it does,” Carter said, cueing his own mic. “Second contact is mine.”

  “It’s all yours, Major,” she said, falling back onto the floor and struggling to remain conscious. She failed, and blackness took her.

  Chapter 5

  Out of the Frying Pan

  NASA SPACE COMMAND

  Houston, Texas

  In the near future, Year 4, Day 179

  THE COMMAND CENTER was alive with activity. There had been no announcement, no news from any source that would indicate the radio jammer would suddenly go offline, and then all at once the communications blackout from Mars was over. Backlogged data, log entries, telemetry information, ship status reports, personnel communications from the crew to their friends and family, all started to arrive and be processed by their data servers, which were now struggling under the sudden load. The data and information had been stored until communications could be reestablished, and once the computer system verified the restoration of service, it ordered that all stored data be retransmitted back to Earth—close to four days-worth.

  Some referred to the data overload as mimicking a DOS, or Denial of Service attack, though that was not accurate. It had more to do with the prioritization over certain systems and the fact that some of the most bandwidth-intense data flows were given priority over other systems, including text, which would have been processed much quicker. NASA would learn another real-life experience lesson that day and adjust accordingly.

  “I’m guessing the Chinese are going to wish they had kept their jammer online,” Jack said, pouring over the data that was designated for his desk.

  “Yeah, the press will have a field day with this one,” Lisa said.

  “I don’t know.” Marge looked up from some hard copies she had printed for them to peruse at the conference table, overlooking their control room. Jack and Lisa were on laptops that were connected to their WiFi network. “It isn’t exactly spelled out what happened, at least not in the clear communications.”

  “Good thing the sitreps and log entries were classified,” Jack said, pulling up another file of data to look at. “We’re going to need some time to analyze this, Boss.”

  Rock nodded. “I’m thinking the rest of the week for sure, maybe even Saturday.”

  There were a few groans, but they were exaggerated, and Rock knew it. “Where’s the brass and crass?” Jack asked, a tad on the vulgar side.

  “Mister Smith and Admiral Nicholson will be here shortly,” Rock said.

  “You can let the admiral know how much you disapprove of their military activities,” Lisa chided her companion.

  “I should have kicked the major’s you-know-what,” Jack said. “He’s lucky I wasn’t in the mood.”

  That elicited a chuckle from the group until another voice was heard: “I�
�m sure the major appreciates your restraint,” Nicholson said as he entered the room with a dour faced Mister Smith.

  “We were just....” Marge started to speak.

  Rock finished for her, not wanting her to say talking about you; instead he said, “Expecting you. Please, gentlemen, have a seat and let’s get started. We have a lot of data to look through, and I understand there are other implications that need to be discussed urgently, or so President Powers had said.”

  “She did,” Smith said, dropping his rather heavy portfolio on the desk and taking the seat behind it. The admiral did the same. “The president would have held this meeting herself, but the emergency UN sessions went late yesterday afternoon and spilled over into today.”

  “We saw that on the news.” Rock nodded at one of the monitors showing a twenty-four-hour cable news channel, with non-stop coverage on the diplomatic crisis currently underway at the United Nations. “What’s up, then?”

  Smith looked at the admiral, who simply nodded, then returned his gaze to Rock who now sat across the table from him. “The president wants to mount a rescue mission to Mars.”

  The NASA team looked up from their laptops and papers and Rock spoke for them. “What are you talking about?”

  “They don’t know,” Nicholson said.

  “Mister Crandon,” Smith began, “the last transmission was classified at a level above yours for review before disseminating.”

  Rock cut him off. “What do you mean ‘classified?’ I thought we had access to every detail of the mission.”

  “You do, but there is one classification—a military one.” Smith looked again at Nicholson, who never took his eyes off Rock. “That supersedes the space program. It’s not that you won’t see it; simply, it needs to have executive branch approval before being released. The releasing is all but guaranteed. However, the timing would be in question.”

  “What a load of crap,” Jack said, slamming his laptop cover down then folding his arms across his chest.

  Rock held a hand up to silence his team from any further outburst. “What is the status of the Red Horizon and crew?”

  “They’re alive for now,” Smith said. “The Chinese blew up their first ship and almost took our ship with it.”

  “You mean the Roaring Tiger is gone?” Lisa asked, her jaw staying open.

  “Yes, kablooey,” Smith said, making an explosion sound and spreading his hands to imitate a mushroom cloud. “Blown to smithereens.”

  “I think we understand that part,” Rock said, not finding the man’s antics amusing. “What happened?”

  “We’re not sure.”

  “We think the Chinese commander had some sort of explosive at his disposal and was able to prime it near their fuel tanks, taking the ship out and damaging the Red Horizon,” Nicholson clarified.

  “The last data we read was from the ship’s logs indicating that the Chinese tried to board our ship and, in return, your men took over their ship. Is that correct?” Marge asked the admiral.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Then are your men responsible for the destruction of the Chinese ship?” Marge asked.

  “No.”

  “We already told you it was the Chinese commando leader who blew his own ship up.” Smith looked to Marge and let out an exasperated puff of air.

  Marge ignored him and continued her line of questioning. “So this explosion damaged our ship and that’s why it’s disabled?”

  Nicholson narrowed his eyes at her and said, “I know you’ve read the reports that our ship survived the explosion that took the Roaring Tiger down. Therefore, you must know that something else happened.”

  “I do,” Marge said simply.

  “Then why did you ask that question?” Smith asked.

  “She wanted to see if we’d lie to her,” the admiral said.

  Smith opened his mouth, then shut it, then opened it again. Finally, he blurted out, “We never lie; we classify.”

  Rock stepped in. “Tell us what happened and if the ship is operational.”

  Smith wanted to speak but looked at the admiral first, who nodded saying, “There was an encounter within the alien construct right after the ship explosion. The encounter was hostile, and a violent exchange ensued. Not long after, the alien Alpha Target emitted something similar to an electromagnetic pulse, which crippled the Horizon. We believe it was directly related to the encounter.”

  “You’re referring to the alien transmitter?” Lisa asked.

  “The obelisk,” Jack clarified. “Like the one on the moon?”

  “Yes,” the admiral said.

  Jack let out a long whistle. “Damn.”

  “It attacked us?” Marge asked, her brows going as high as Rock had ever seen them.

  “Why do you act surprised?” Smith asked. “You’re the one going on about the aliens being hostile to us. This should be something for you to gloat about, not act as if you didn’t see it coming, or you don’t want to tell us I told you so.”

  “Stop right there,” Rock said, trying to get a handle on current events. “Do we currently have communications with our ship?”

  “No,” both men said in unison.

  “So our latest messages won’t be answered?”

  “Correct,” Smith said.

  “Then how in the hell did we learn about the latest attack?” Marge asked, giving Rock a look to see if he’d object to her resuming her questioning.

  “This will seem a bit hard to believe, but the Russians told us,” Nicholson said.

  “He means the Soviets,” Smith clarified.

  The admiral ignored the man and watched the NASA team intently. Finally, Rock asked the big question: “Exactly how were we going to effect a rescue mission?”

  “You’re aware of our ship, Black Infinity,” Smith said, raising one brow as if he were a teacher talking to a pupil.

  “We got that,” Rock began, not approving of the other man’s tone. “The solar panels and sail deployment still need to be worked out.”

  Marge added, “The ship, despite its ion drive, needs a substantial power source in order to do anything with it ... unless you’ve decided to go with the new variable plasma motor?”

  Smith couldn’t help himself and allowed a grin to cross his face. It wasn’t often that he was on the explaining end of anything other than national security details, so he seemed a bit too pleased at having the latest information with regards to their latest space ship. “You’re correct, Doctor Jones. We’ve installed the plasma drives since the ion motors produced their thrust too slowly for what we needed.”

  Marge looked at Rock and ignored Smith. “The only power source strong enough to use the plasma engines efficiently would be fission generators.”

  “Nuclear power,” Rock said, nodding, “and it’s been the bane of public opinion ever since that Indian space station fell to Earth back in thirty-five.” Rock was referring to the nuclear powered, low Earth orbit space station that had returned to Earth and accidently hit a population center in southern Europe, spreading extremely radioactive plutonium from its nuclear reactor. The death toll, and subsequent cleanup, had led to several global treaties, nuclear bans of radioactive material in space, and heavy regulations for what remained.

  “That same public opinion has done little to nothing in stopping our adversaries from proliferating space with radioactive material,” Smith said. “The United States simply did what it had to do, in order to protect our national security.”

  “Do you realize how large a reactor is needed to power a ship using plasma engines?” Jack asked from the side of the table.

  Admiral Nicholson answered, “About 200 to 250 megawatts.”

  “What’s that,” Jack asked, internally measuring the electricity figures that the admiral had quoted, “a reactor large enough to power a Navy aircraft carrier?”

  “Fairly close,” Nicholson said. “The new Obama-class carriers max out at over 500 megawatts per reactor, while the old, mothballed Ford-
class carriers were producing 350 megawatts each.”

  Jack whistled again. “You went ahead and built the damn thing anyway, right under all our noses.”

  “I don’t understand how you lowered the power to mass density far enough to make it work,” Marge said.

  “I don’t know.” Rock looked to Jack and Lisa before returning his gaze to Marge. “Our own Glenn Research Center in Cleveland has been running plasma experiments since the last century. The large-scale miniaturization of nuclear power sources the last two decades had to be taken further with our military. I think this research goes well beyond the scope of what we’ve done at NASA.”

  “Are you speculating, or do you know something we don’t?” Marge asked Rock.

  “I’ve seen, and even approved this last year, several billion dollars in research there, though I haven’t heard the military was doing anything specific with it, despite the fact that we’ve been sharing all our findings with the military for the better part of the last decade.”

  “Before we go further, I need to state for the record that everything we are discussing today is on a need-to-know basis, and is not authorized for dissemination outside the parties currently present in this room,” Smith said.

  “I’m surprised you don’t have us sign another disclosure agreement,” Lisa said sarcastically.

  “I think four of them have been enough,” Marge said, giving Lisa a knowing look that baffled Mister Smith.

  Rock stood and leaned over the table, spreading his arms to hold him up, and looked Smith in the eye. “Enough of the technology. We’ve been working on solar panels, ion-reactive drives, enhanced chemical systems, and even anti-matter production for energy sources. Obviously, to go anywhere in our solar system, you must have a power source that can get you there. The plasma motors will do that if you can churn out a few hundred megawatts from a low mass reactor. Is that the gist of it?”

  Smith nodded. “Correct. You already built the ship, we added the power source.”