Rogue Stars

by C Gockel et al.

  “We’ll see, John. Just keep our crew up there on schedule. I’d like to see them return.”

  “I would like that as well,” Vice President Lee finished, hanging up the phone.

  29 Anticipation

  People’s Republic Space Command

  Beijing, China

  In the near future, Day 48

  * * *

  Hun’s hand had almost trembled as he handed the lunar map to his uncle and watched him leave the complex. That was hours ago, and Hun had returned to the control center to monitor the progress of their sole astronaut. He kept checking his pager, and Lin looked at him suspiciously as he paced back and forth yet again near his console.

  “You really need to be less obvious,” Lin said, practically whispering to her boss as she walked over and stood near his console, papers in her hands.

  “Obvious? What do you mean?” Hun asked, his voice sounding stressed as he stopped his pacing and stood facing his junior technician, the control room somewhat dim, primarily illuminated by console workstation lights, main screen monitors, and computer display equipment.

  Lin leaned in even closer. “I have no idea what you did or are doing, but it’s obvious you’re up to something.”

  Hun took a deep breath and walked over to his chair to sit. Perhaps sitting would be less obvious? he thought to himself. He took another breath and then looked at Lin, noticing that Chon was watching them closely from his nearby console. “I’m fine now, Lin. Just nervous about Colonel Sing is all.”

  Lin nodded and then looked at Hun’s waist. The old fashioned pager started to vibrate, its small screen glowing an eerie green color. “You still use one of those?” Lin asked, her eyebrows arching.

  Hun shrugged and pulled the old pager from where it was clipped to his belt. It was his uncle saying he had his lunch ready. The older man had worked in the space program for decades and had retired a long time ago but still had his access card to the common areas on the grounds of their facility. Hun looked at Lin, putting the pager back. “I’ll be right back.”

  Hun left, walking past the guards and down the hallway till he came to the main lobby after opening a set of double doors and passing yet another security checkpoint. He greeted his uncle and motioned to one of the chairs by the window, and the two men seated themselves.

  “Thank you, Uncle, I appreciate the thoughtfulness,” Hun said, looking around the room and setting the lunch bag on the small table located between the two men.

  His uncle nodded, his demeanor calm. “I took care of the errand you requested. I can’t predict the outcome, but the task is done.”

  Hun looked around again and then leaned forward. “There were no complications?”

  His uncle smiled, continuing to sit back in his chair, his posture relaxed. “You need to calm yourself, Hun. Take a deep breath and relax.” Hun hesitated for a moment before leaning back as well, not exactly content to discuss this matter where they had to speak in a normal tone of voice to be heard. Hun took a deep breath. “Good,” his uncle said. “I think there was a healthy dose of skepticism, but the message was conveyed and received. All is well now.”

  Hun took a moment to concentrate on his breathing, taking deeper, slower breaths as he had learned a long time ago in his meditation classes. “Thank you, Uncle, again. Should I know anything else?” Hun started to think that his uncle was right. If their conversation was being monitored, then whispering would only make it more suspect. Hun marveled at the older man’s control and calm in the face of what they had just conspired to do and, indeed, actually did.

  “Be sure to eat the soup before it becomes cold,” his uncle said.

  Hun smiled and placed his hand on the bag, feeling its warmth. His aunt knew how to cook, and he was at least going to enjoy his lunch today. “I will, Uncle, and thank you.”

  Blackjack Rover

  Lunar Surface, Marianas Plain

  In the near future, Day 48

  * * *

  “Houston, this is Blackjack, over.” Julie keyed her mike as she crested the rim of the crater and looked down into the Mons Crater, thinking she could just see a faint metallic gleam in the distance. The darkness was intense, and she had turned her lights off momentarily so she could regain her visual acuity and see into the darkness.

  “Blackjack, this is Houston, go ahead.”

  “Blackjack has reached waypoint one, ready to proceed,” she said, flipping her FLIR device on and swinging the joystick around to pan the picture on her display.

  “Signal strength shows elevated levels, but within operating parameters for your rover. Advise you do not EVA, repeat do not EVA from this point forward. Do you copy, Blackjack?”

  “Blackjack copies. Will stay on board the rover,” Julie said.

  “Blackjack, this is Houston, authorization to proceed granted. Be advised there may be company on the ground. Status unknown. You have two hours. Good luck,” the simple reply came back.

  “There, you just went past it,” Craig said from his rear-facing seat as he monitored the FLIR on his own screen.

  “Yeah, I see it now,” Julie said, panning a bit more and zooming in on the faint false colors of the display. They glowed a pale blue and green, nothing hot enough to show oranges or reds. “It looks quiet down there. What do you think they mean by status unknown? Do you think they mean what I’m thinking?”

  “That’s their polite way of saying the Russians more than likely bit the big one down there. You good to go with that, Jules?”

  Julie flipped her lights back on and watched as the FLIR colors faded. “Yeah, let’s do this.” She punched the accelerator lever forward, and the rover lurched forward, heading toward the alien device. There was no way to miss it. The signals were so clear and strong that DF or direction finding on it was child’s play. It was transmitting like a beacon in the dark, and the Apollo crew was riding the wave to its source.

  Gordust Space Station

  Low Moon Orbit

  In the near future, Day 48

  * * *

  “There, I found them,” Nikolai said over the intercom system. “Grid 9B.”

  Olga moved their own infrared camera to the west and zoomed out to make sure it would cover the entire surface area of grid 9B as Nikolai indicated. “Got it, target acquired.”

  “Is that the Americans?” Yuri asked, monitoring their progress across the dark side of the moon.

  “I’m pretty sure it is,” Olga said, watching intently. “They seem to really be moving. Thirty, forty kilometers an hour.”

  “That’s typical for them. They like their vehicles fast,” Yuri said.

  “And their women faster,” Nikolai added, laughing for the first time in over a day.

  “You two are so predictable,” Olga said, a frown on her face, easily visible now that they had resealed the ship and took their helmets and gloves off. “They’ll be there within the hour. Do we contact them?”

  “We’ve had no orders either way from Moscow, well, Vostochny. I doubt they’d approve, but we need to know. We’ll lose contact in ten more minutes and won’t reacquire till after they arrive, so it’s now or never.”

  “Do it,” Olga said.

  Yuri keyed his mike. “Nikolai, Viktor, are you both on board?”

  “Da, Yuri,” Nikolai said. “Those are our comrades down there. Make it happen.”

  “Viktor?” Yuri asked.

  “I’m with Nikolai on this,” the man said. “See what you can do.”

  Yuri looked at Olga, who nodded and then flipped several switches working the radio frequency scanner. It took nearly ten seconds to bring up the correct frequency. “They’re transmitting in the clear?”

  Olga nodded. “Yes, they are on this channel.”

  Yuri sighed and looked at the communications console to his left. He hoped he was doing the right thing. “Russian ship Gordust to American lunar crew, do you copy?”

  There was a pause for several seconds till Yuri repeated the call. “Gordust t
o American lunar crew, do you copy?”

  “Apollo 21 is a copy for Gordust. This is Commander Julie Monroe. Go with your message.”

  The tone of the American concerned Yuri, but what was he to expect? “This is Station Commander Yuri Temshenko, officially requesting aid for our surface crew, over.”

  “What kind of aid, Commander Temshenko? We have limited resources down here.”

  “Understood, Apollo. Any confirmation of our comrade’s status would be helpful. We have been out of contact for nearly a day. Can you assist?”

  “Roger, Gordust, we’ll use this frequency for communications. What’s our window?”

  “We have seven more minutes, and then we’ll be in range forty-eight minutes after that.”

  “Roger, we are thirty minutes ETA to your crew, so we’ll catch you on the flip side.”

  Flip side? Yuri mouthed the words to Olga who just shrugged. “Ah, roger, Apollo, thank you for the assistance. Gordust out.”

  “I don’t think she forgave us for kicking her off our station,” Olga said.

  “Well, whether she forgave or not, she sure as hell didn’t forget. Let’s hope she’s more forgiving when she reaches our comrades,” Yuri said.

  “I hope so,” Olga replied.

  Yuri looked at Olga. “I’ll guess we’ll know for sure in about an hour.” Olga nodded and watched as the American rover tore across the lunar landscape, closing in on target, on the device and more importantly, on their crewmembers.

  NASA Space Center

  Houston, Texas

  In the near future, Day 48

  * * *

  Rock leaned back, looking at Marge closely. “You’re sure about this?”

  “Well, not sure, but when we discovered the repetition of the four signal codes, it came across to me that no astro-map would be so limited in its scope, so it had to be something else.”

  “Why not a mathematical formula?” Rock asked.

  “We ran the alien code string by every formula we could find as well as partial ones, and nothing came up. That’s exactly what the NSA had been doing for weeks,” Marge said.

  “So you plugged in the genetic code and it matched?” Rock asked.

  “Not exactly,” Marge began. “The entire code was not a match, however, half the human DNA string does fit the signal at nearly ninety-nine percent. I think they’re trying to communicate with us biologically if not mathematically.”

  “So then why kill us? I mean, it looks pretty much like their signals were fatal to the Russian crew. Why kill those with whom you’re trying to communicate?”

  Marge shrugged and leaned back in her chair. “Maybe they want something different from us than our attempts to retrieve their diamond-looking transmitter.”

  Rock rubbed his chin and then his eyes; he had slept little the last twenty-four hours and would most likely repeat this for the next twenty-four. “I’ll run this by Mr. Smith and see what he and his team thinks. Do you have anything else?”

  “Well, for now, no, but I’ll be working on it at my console. Just keep an eye on their systems, especially the computers. If anything fails, it will be those first, and that would pretty much doom them when that missile arrives.”

  “Yeah, I’ll have to have a serious discussion with Mr. Smith about this one. They shouldn’t be in this type of situation—”

  Rock was interrupted by Jack, who stuck his head in the door. “They’re almost to target.”

  “On our way,” Rock said, gathering up his binder and giving Marge one last look. “See what you can do, Marge. We literally have only one hour.”

  30 Contact

  Chinese Nuclear Missile GX101A

  Approaching the Moon

  In the near future, Day 48

  * * *

  The Chinese missile received its input command, and for the second time in as many hours, its rocket motor ignited and boosted its velocity relative to the system’s planet and sole moon by twelve percent before shutting off and lighting up its radar system located in the nose cone. It acquired the alien signal and used it to home in on as a beacon sweeping with its radar, which was being used only to obtain a fix on the missile’s current location relative to the moon.

  In two hours, it would impact the moon’s surface at or near the alien device, releasing over a hundred megatons equivalent of TNT and obliterating the alien device once and for all. Anything within a twenty-five mile blast radius would either be destroyed or suffer catastrophic failure.

  Alien Device

  Surface of the Moon, Mons Crater

  In the near future, Day 48

  * * *

  “Houston, this is Blackjack. Approaching target site now. Alien device and Russian lander visible, do you copy?” Julie said, pulling back on the accelerator and decreasing their velocity considerably.

  “Blackjack, this is Houston. Copy your transmission. You are a go for retrieval.”

  “Do you see these readings, Jules?” Craig said via their intercom channel.

  “Yeah, they are very close to red lining. No wonder the Russians had problems down here. My God, there’s one of them now,” Julie said as she slowly pulled the rover near the alien device.

  The prone figure of a heavily suited astronaut lying face down a mere meter or so from the black obelisk seemed surreal to Julie. The area was dark except for the light glow of the diamond-looking tip on the device and the powerful overhead lights of the rover. She could see what looked like a large electrical saw on the ground near the prone Russian. It was modified to be heavily shielded and looked bulky as well.

  “I’m going to pull around now, Craig. Are you ready?”

  “Go ahead, Jules, I’m ready,” Craig responded.

  Julie pushed the lever forward and then tilted the small T-bar to the right, turning the front wheels and executing a ninety-degree turn in front of the obelisk. She then jammed the lever to the rear and looked at her low tech mirrors as Craig started to release the robotic arms, one of which had a saw attachment mounted to it.

  “Easy, Jules, ten more meters,” Craig said, guiding the rover back toward the obelisk so he could work.

  “Just tell me I’m not going to run over the Russian,” Jules said, her voice serious.

  “You’re fine. He’s a half meter to your left, my right. Just keep it coming, four more meters,” Craig continued. “Two meters, one meter, that’s good.”

  Craig swung the robotic arms and extended them to the side. They were less than two meters away, and the arms had a three and a half meter reach, plenty of room for him to work. “Inform Houston I’m beginning the procedure.”

  “Roger that, Craig,” Julie said, keying her mike. “Blackjack to Houston, we are commencing retrieval procedure now, over.”

  The procedure, planned in detail before they took off, required them to back the cutting saw mounted on the robotic arms so that they could cut off one of what looked like three prongs holding the large white diamond mounted device so they could return it to earth. The rover had a compartment designed to hold it.

  “This looks like it will be a tight fit, if I get it loose,” Craig said as Houston started to respond.

  “Blackjack, this is Houston. Be advised that your TOS will be twenty-two minutes, over.”

  “What the hell, I haven’t even begun yet,” Craig complained, hearing the announcement.

  “I don’t know,” Julie began, “why they would limit our Time on Site? I’ll ask and you start working now.”

  “Roger, initiating cutting now,” Craig said.

  Julie heard the electric motor for the saw wind up, though there was no sound coming from outside—the vacuum of space prevented that—but the intense sparks that were flying were clearly visible as she keyed her mike. “Houston, this is Blackjack. Explanation for limited TOS, over?”

  There was a long pause before the response. “Blackjack, this is Houston. ETA on inbound missile is now seventy-eight minutes. Do you copy?”

  The sparks continu
ed to fly, but Julie heard Craig’s response on the main channel. “That’s just fucking great.”

  “Ah, Blackjack, be advised you’re still on open coms channel,” came the reply.

  “Roger that, Houston, will advise on progress. Keep us updated. Over and out,” Julie responded, switching the mike off and activating her internal com. “Well, that went over well at mission control.”

  “Sorry, Jules, I forgot the main channel remained open during hands-free operations. I needed to keep the thought to myself.”

  “No need to apologize. You simply voiced what I was thinking as well. How we coming along with the procedure?”

  The sparks stopped, and Jules watched in the mirror as Craig adjusted his spotlight remotely. “Damn it, not a scratch. I can’t see where we even impacted the prong.”

  “Are you sure? I saw an awful lot of sparks flying. Something had to be giving,” Julie said.

  “I’m positive. Hang on a sec,” Craig said. “Well I’ll be a monkey’s uncle.”

  “What now?” Julie asked.

  “The saw blade is all but useless. It’s chipped and warped, all in less than two minutes of cutting. This damn thing isn’t going anywhere.”

  “I’ll let Houston know right away. Looks like this entire trip might be for naught,” Julie said, reaching to key the main channel mike, but the receiver cackled first.

  “Blackjack, this is Houston. We don’t think you’ll be able to separate the transmitter from its mount, over.”

  There was a pause before Craig’s voice came across the internal channel, somewhat muted. “No shit, Sherlock. Now they tell us?”

  “Roger, Houston, be advised our retrieval procedure failed. This confirms your report, over,” Julie said, muting their intra-coms channel and making sure only her voice went out over the main frequency.

  “Blackjack, this is Houston. We have an idea. Prepare to retransmit a digital signal inbound to you in thirty seconds, confirm.”