Stolen Worlds

by Bob Blink

  Stolen Worlds

  Bob Blink

  Prologue

  Pasadena, California

  Cal Tech Observatory

  October 2020

  Anthony Symmes adjusted the focus of the departmental telescope, the aiming controlled by the motor drive to the coordinates he'd loaded into the computer a short time ago. He shivered slightly, not entirely due to the cold October night. Tall, somewhat on the thin side, with reddish blond hair and deep blue eyes, he was a senior in astronomy at the university, and as such had access to the university telescopes for course work related projects. He was cheating a bit at the moment. While he had a project that had gained him time on the equipment, he'd already completed everything necessary to finish the assignment, and had unprofessionally signed up for another session that he didn't honestly require.

  He didn't feel too bad though, as no one else had been clamoring for the slot, and this was something that he really wanted to have a look at. An asteroid, one of the sneaky ones that they hadn't discovered until three days ago, was about to make its closest approach to the Earth, moving just outside the orbit of the moon. It would pass at 1.1 Lunar Distances, and actually miss the moon's orbit by less than 45,000 kilometers. The moon wasn't actually in line with the passage, so there was no chance of an encounter between the two tonight, but the moon was close enough to provide extra illumination during the close approach. Added to that, the object was huge, almost five-hundred meters across. Talk about your extinction level events. If that had hit the Earth, something that the news media had toyed with to gather attention the past few days, the effects would have been catastrophic. But that wasn't going to happen.

  He wanted to see the asteroid up close, in the flesh so to speak, and not just a video or a photo that would be available later. He knew the larger telescopes, especially some of the monitoring satellites in orbit would most likely get better pictures, but this was personal. The campus observatory at the Cahill Center had a number of telescopes, including the powerful Celstrons in eight, ten and fourteen inch. He was using the largest of the telescopes for his observations tonight.

  He'd take his own pictures of the object's passing, and show them to his girlfriend Gwen Huang tomorrow night when she came over. Even though the asteroid would have passed by the Earth by then and be far away, the very idea of such a large rock coming close to the Earth would make her antsy and nervous which usually resulted in her wanting reassurance and maybe cuddling, which in turn usually led to even more intriguing activities. Despite her being considerably more athletic and outdoorsy than him, certain things made her uncomfortable, and he was positive something like this would qualify.

  There had been a surprising number of close encounters between the Earth and various objects during the past two years. He knew from his studies that there were always a number of rocks that came close, and every year some were even inside the orbit of the moon, but the numbers of encounters of late had been well above the norm. What was also a bit disconcerting, even to a professional like himself, were the number of rocks that snuck up on them, and whose orbits were identified mere days before the passing. On July 26th last year, while they were waiting for several identified rocks to make a close transition, asteroid 2019OK had been spotted as it came whistling through a mere 0.15 Lunar Distances from the planet. You'd almost think someone out there was having target practice with the Earth as the bulls-eye. But none of the objects had actually hit, nor would the one he was looking for tonight.

  He bent to peer through the lens and sucked in his breath as the deep space visitor came into focus. It was dark, craggy, and irregularly shaped, and while it appeared motionless, he knew from his calculations just how fast it was traveling. Much faster than any speeding bullet. He snapped a series of pictures as his eyes studied the object, his heart beating just a bit fast realizing the potential of such a monster. Maybe he could understand Gwen's fear of something like this. For just a moment a flicker of light due to some stray light in the nearby sky caught his attention. It looked almost like a piece of the asteroid had broken off and was flying away, but then the faint glimmer vanished, revealing that it was just an aberration. That was the problem of trying to do this kind of thing in the city, and why all serious astronomy was done in special facilities well away from the city lights.

  The event didn't last long, and while he could have watched the object as it flew away, he'd accomplished his goal. He'd watched it traverse the orbit at closest approach. He had the photos to prove it, all time stamped and annotated by the computer as they were taken.

  Australian Outback

  Gibson Desert

  Western Australia

  December 2021

  Burnum Wanganeen shielded his eyes against the harsh glare of the noonday sun. He was a long way from anywhere, yet he was very much at home. Once a year he made the long journey across the western Australian desert, as much to test himself as anything. He carried very little with him; his boomerang, his knife, and of course his spear and its coveted thrower. With those he could fight and hunt. And out here he was able to count on not being disturbed by others. Almost no one ventured out into this part of the Outback. To do so unprepared was to die. It was known to most as the Gibson desert. That was a Gubba name. His people had other names for the place, some of which it was best not to voice aloud. One had to be careful.

  As barren and hostile as this place was, he prided himself on being able to survive off the land. Why just last night he'd had a fine meal off a find of thick fat grubs, firm and filled with moisture. Water was hard, but it could be found, if one knew how. He knew, of course. He knew all of the tricks to survival in a place such of this. It was home. In his seventy years of wandering the harsh Outback, he'd learned some skills the hard way, and some from the teachings of his father, all so many years ago.

  His goal was Perth on the ocean far to the west. The past couple of days he had deviated from that goal, his path taking him somewhat northward. Standing upon one of the higher ancient and worn away hills of sandstone, he'd spotted something that shouldn't be there. It hadn't been there last year, nor the year before. He knew it didn't belong, but he couldn't fathom what it was. He decided it was important to know what had invaded his desert, and so he'd set his sights in that new direction.

  Now he was close, but he still could not make out what he was seeing. It looked to be something a Gubba would create out in a place like this, but to what purpose? But even that didn't ring true. The cover over the top hid what his eyes fought to discern. He didn't believe he'd ever seen anything capable of doing that. Underneath he caught hints of iron, or of some form of metal at least. A city of metal? It made no sense.

  He continued onward, but for some reason he turned to stealth. He moved between the scarce cover, slipping between the small waves worn into the land to hide him from view of anyone who might be watching from inside the strange city he was approaching. When he saw movement, he was stunned by what he saw. Bats! Huge ones, the like of which he didn't know existed. How could something so large fly so easily. They also seemed to be wearing some form of clothing, and carrying what appeared to be a weapon in a special sheath on their backs. Something here was not right.

  When night approached he made his way all the way to the very edge of the strange city. He could see the barrier that stretched over the entire community, hiding it, and yet not hiding. He wondered why it was felt to be necessary. Anyone out here would have seen this place the same way he had. He wished to learn more, and now that movement within the area had all but ceased, he felt it might be possible for a warrior such as himself to quietly investigate the inner area.

  Barnum considered the wisdom of what he was about to do, decided it was the right thing, and pushed forward, pr
essing up against the smoky-like barrier that made sharp images of the interior impossible. He felt a strange tingle against his skin, but didn't allow his goal to be denied, and stepped through to the inside. It wasn't hard, and once inside he could see clearly, noting the barrier that was behind him appeared completely transparent. It was as if it never existed. The buildings now revealed themselves to be some sort of aircraft, but different than any he'd seen before. He moved up alongside one, and ran a dry, wrinkled hand across the surface. It felt incredibly smooth, yet somehow strong and impregnable.

  Then he realized that there was a rush of activity from the largest of the flying vehicles ahead of him. More than a dozen of the bat things were flowing out into the night, all of them heading his way. He didn't believe he could have been seen, so something must have been alarmed to alert them to his presence. He recalled the tingling in the barrier as he passed through. If they wished a fight, he was ready. He hefted his spear in his hand, and watched to see which of the strange things he would kill first.

  Then he realized that several of the creatures had taken to the air, and he was about to be surrounded on multiple sides. It was too late to retreat, and he lifted the spear in defiance. One of the bat-things raised the long tube that Barnum had spotted on their backs earlier, and a bright ball of light sped from the device in his direction. He prepared to duck, but by the time the thought entered his mind he realized he'd already been struck. The pain was immense, and then he felt himself melting away. Before he could even shout in anger, he was no more.

  Chapter 1

  Washington, DC

  Late June 2023

  "Colonel Judson, how may I help you?" Air Force General and Chief of Staff of the Air Force, Charles Markham asked. He couldn't recall a previous instance where the Colonel had called him without it being a response to a query of his own.

  Colonel Judson was an extremely capable officer, in charge of the Air Force's Satellite Control Facility at Schriever Air Force Base in Colorado Springs. The facility was responsible for the control of a great many spacecraft, most of them highly classified. Access to the control center was restricted to those who had been formally cleared in advance, then each person who wished to enter had to pass through a series of special checks including a weight scan, retina scan, fingerprint scan, and the manual entering of a passcode. That got one on the premises, not into the control areas where information regarding a special spacecraft could be found. That required one to navigate to the appropriate door, which was a thick vault-like arrangement that was RF tight, where a second code was entered.

  It was highly recommended that the code be entered correctly as a error would trigger a facility wide alert bringing armed and very serious men to question the person who failed this simple test. Greeting them with legs spread and hands stretched wide against the wall was suggested as the proper protocol. Once these hurdles had been navigated, one could pass through the selected door into a multi-room chamber where the satellite operations were controlled. Those inside the area were cleared to know about that specific spacecraft, but not necessarily any others being controlled, often not even the names of the other programs.

  Colonel Judson was, of course, familiar with all of the programs.

  "We seem to have a bit of a problem, General," the Colonel replied.

  The General realized it must be a significant matter, as spacecraft problems were solved by the assigned crew, or at the worst case with the help of the vendor who had built the vehicle, but seldom were the problems brought to the attention of someone at his level.

  "A problem?" He encouraged the man to go on.

  "A pointing problem. With the star tracking system."

  The General knew that the star tracking capability allowed the spacecraft to be aligned or pointed with incredible precision. A great many of the vehicles used this system, including key spacecraft that were part of the United States defense network.

  "Which one?" General Markham asked.

  "All of them, sir," the Colonel responded nervously.

  That wasn't an answer the General would have anticipated.

  "Excuse me. All of them?"

  "Every spacecraft that relies on star tracking for pointing is showing alignment errors. Errors that are increasing with time."

  "You must have some kind of systematic problem at the SCF that is causing this," the General suggested. He felt stupid saying it, knowing someone like Colonel Judson would have already considered such a possibility.

  "Begging the General's pardon, Sir, but it doesn't work that way. There is nothing in the ground station configuration that could cause one spacecraft to point incorrectly, let alone all of them, what with different systems and methods of control. It depends on the uploaded star charts, and the on-board system operation. It would be possible for one spacecraft to experience a corrupted database of the star information, or a failure in the control system, but that would normally show, and it certainly isn't something likely for all of them to experience simultaneously. Besides, we have completed a data dump and checked the uploaded data and all are showing everything is absolutely nominal. Also, no commands have been uplinked to any of the spacecraft since before this was noted."

  "That doesn't seem even possible," General Markham noted. "You have done full system checks on every spacecraft."

  "Yes sir."

  "It sounds to me that it is time to bring in the vendor's key people. I suggest you contact Colonel Gellman in El Segundo. He is our primary interface with the manufacturer's engineers."

  "Yes, Sir. We have done that, and have had the best people from the three manufacturing firms involved since very early this morning. They all claim there is nothing wrong with the spacecraft. All of them say that. They have no explanation for what might be the source of the anomaly."

  "That's ridiculous. There has to be something causing this."

  "One of the engineers said his best guess is that the stars have moved, Sir!"

  The Earth spins on its axis, which isn't aligned conveniently north and south. The spinning is not wobble free either, which matters, and the motion is not as smooth as the simple videos like to show. Then, the Earth also rotates around the sun. Again, not a nice simple circle, but an ellipse, with some interesting motions caused by all those other masses out there as they rotate around the sun in their own, non-synchronized paths. Each of those masses, in fact every mass out there, has some impact on the motion of the Earth. Some small, others smaller, and most insignificant, but present nonetheless. There are other motions, but for now, that's the basic idea. Any satellite that is in orbit around the Earth has it's own aberrations. Again, the satellite's orbit is not a perfect circle. It has eccentricity and inclination for example. The Earth is not a true sphere. It's a bit squashed. You think that has an effect on a satellites orbit? You bet it does. So does the moon. Things are a bit more complicated than Mr. Wizard told you.

  With the quality of the models that the astronomers have developed over centuries of observation, they can now tell you the position of these things to within half a gnat's ass every moment of every day. Nay! Not every moment. With their highly precise atomic clocks and modern supercomputers and highly refined software models they can tell you every millionth of a moment, or every billionth. It all depends on just how much computing power you wish to assign to the problem, and how much accuracy is important to whatever it is you are doing.

  Of course there is a thing called significant digits in science. A lot of people forget about that little factor. While your calculator or computer will spit out as many digits as you want it to, the meaningfulness of those numbers depends more than a little bit on what information you put into the problem. GIGO! Garbage in, garbage out. If your least well-known parameter is known to one percent, guess what. Your answer can't be known any better than that.

  If you can predict all this as accurately as current technology allows, then you know precisely where your satellite is at every moment, and knowing that you k
now where the stars, at least the ones you are interested in, are at those same moments in time. Therefore, if you point your star tracking sensors at these stars, and you know the relative angles between the sensors and whatever you want pointed, you can point your payload, be it a sensor, a microwave or laser beam, a nuclear tipped missile, or a camera exactly where you want it to be pointed.

  Over the years, as the key parameters became better defined, and the computing capability improved, scientists discovered that their models were not exactly predicting what they were seeing. Do you believe the model, or not? Unlike some of the computer models our politicians would have us believe in, models which have never quite managed to successfully predict even a single event correctly, the models developed and used by these astronomers have a long history of correctly predicting motions to the accuracy of their data. So if a discrepancy is spotted, just maybe it isn't the model, but it is probable there is an incorrect or missing input. Some interesting discoveries have been made this way, by looking in the blackness of eternity just where a mass might be located to correct the differences between predict and reality. That's what science is all about. You test and test, and once you are certain, you test again to see if you can break it. And then you find out why it failed, and make the corrections that are needed. You don't fudge it!

  The bottom line here is that these guys have got this one figured out. So if things are not where the models say they are supposed to be, especially if lots of things say the same thing, and the hardware or software isn't broken, then something has changed. Something that isn't supposed to change.

  Chapter 2

  Washington, DC

  White House

  Late June 2023

  "I'm not certain I understand what you are saying," President Scott Williams interrupted. A chubby man with a thick and meticulously groomed head of gray hair, he might have been considered attractive had it not been for the prominent jowls that ruined the effect. He was a former lawyer, and as arrogant as anyone the group in the room had ever encountered. He believed he had an understanding of far more things than he actually understood, and was strongly anti-science, probably a result of having failed his high school science class two years running.