“Not for the first test. Most likely, Deane Wood’s crew will earn that honor.”
“Honor!” Sousi put her hand to her mouth. “Death sentence most likely.”
“No one wants that outcome. Have you found anything? Richard suspects sabotage somewhere.”
“Look here.” Solanje tapped her computer screen. “The metal they’re using in the ignition system might not be strong enough to tolerate the intense strain of takeoff.”
Bashar stopped pacing. “It doesn’t need to withstand the stress of a ground to air launch. It just has to handle separation from the mother ship while in orbit.”
Sousi leaned in to disagree. “There will be incredible stress on the ship if there’s a battle.”
“It won’t involve the ignition system. No, I think there’s no problem there.”
“Okay.” Solanje sat in front of the computer. “It’s just that something feels off, and I don’t know what.” She returned to scrolling through the images and blueprints on the computer screen.
Bashar drew his eyebrows together. “Well, these plans don’t contain the exact same systems we used. They’re modified, hopefully, to improve the design and include a more advanced technology.”
Solanje cast him a glance. “These kinds of systems are extremely complicated.”
“Can you pinpoint anything that would cause problems?”
Solanje exchanged looks with her niece. “Not really.”
Sousi leveled a gaze at him. “It’s just too easy to cut a wire, add a faulty electronic piece, or damage something internally if you are determined to sabotage it. Find a quiet moment and pitch a bottle cap into the power plant, and you’ll get chaos, if not catastrophe.”
Bashar clenched his fists in frustration. “But until I obtain concrete evidence that something deliberately has been done, I can’t stop the test. I want you to collect all your findings and put it into a report on a microchip that I can take back to Richard. He’ll forward your comments to President Courtland.”
Solanje arched an eyebrow. “We already have.” She pulled out a chip from her computer, slipped it into a plastic wrapper, and slapped it onto his outstretched hand. “Take care of this. You say they murdered Richard’s contact. Let’s hope he didn’t realize we were involved and disclose our whereabouts to whoever killed him.”
Bashar pulled her to him and kissed her forehead. “Richard assured me you would be safe. He said nobody has any idea who picked up the information from Ji, but I’m saying you are officially off this project as of now. I’m determined to keep both of you safe.”
Souci leaned into Solanje and whispered, “All men say stuff like that to women just before someone tries to kill them.”
***
Ordered to the head office of the astronauts’ program, Deane stood stiffly at attention, adrenaline pumping through his veins. His crew stood next to him, staring at a smiling Elise Fujeint-Steele and project leader Captain Sam Spencer.
Hope flooded through him as he studied their body language, deducing that they had positive news. He noticed lots of smiles and nods.
Perhaps today was the day they had all been waiting for.
Captain Spencer stepped forward. “Congratulations to all of you for your fine performance. We’ve selected your team for the honor of demonstrating the new prototype. You’ll fly tomorrow where the prototype is berthed.The test will take place there in the next cycle.” The two mentors beamed proudly at their exuberant cadets as they shook everyone’s hands.
A stunned Deane couldn’t believe what he’d heard. Not only had his crew made number one, but the President had moved up the test date. Anticipation thrummed through him. They had finally done it. He and his crew would go down in history. No sooner had the announcement been made when his comm lit up with incoming congratulatory messages.
Captain Spencer chuckled. “I see the news is out and you’ll want to celebrate some, but a word of caution. I want no alcohol or excessive physical activities.” He shook his finger at them. “We want you in tip-top shape for tomorrow.”
“Yes, Sir,” all five chorused.
“Then, dismissed.” He clapped his hands and shooed them out.
With a quick glance at each other, all five snapped a salute at their commanding officers, made a sharp pivot, and marched out. Once in the hall, they whooped and pounded each other on the back.
“I say let’s go party,” Garrett shouted. They pounded off to spread the word and celebrate the good news.
Back in the office, Elise frowned at Sam. “It’s too soon. They’re not ready.”
Sam walked over to his desk and turned to her. “The President found nothing conclusive in Richard’s investigations. Also, Alysia Station is launching the Ching T’Karre prototype next week, and The United Republic is launching from the Diechwrathe the week after. Sean wants to get the jump on them. The publicity of going first will be enormous. You know, he’s up for re-election.”
“So, it’s fragging politics pushing this,” Elise spit out.
With a shrug, Sam said, “It usually is, but after a heated debate, Richard relented and agreed to the earlier date. He admitted he didn’t know if the Fallen had invented jump capability since our last encounter, but in case they had, he figured ramping up production was a risk worth taking. There’s been positive identification that the objects are alien ships with heat signatures and metal structures. Infrared shows a blue shift, indicating incoming motion. Whether they are the Fallen remains to be proven.”
Elise clenched her fists and glared at Sam. “He’s putting our brightest and best in danger on the unfounded fear those devils might have invented jump technology? Can we afford to risk that crew on an experimental flight test?”
Sam paused to stare out at nothing. “We have to. Who knows what those creatures are capable of now. I want to be able to defend myself if they decide to attack us. We need to determine that ship is solid, and then get more built as fast as we can.”
***
Deane groaned. His head felt like someone was tightening a vise in rapid increments, while his stomach endured spikes of pain that caused him to curl up into a fetal position.
The attack had come on suddenly in the middle of his sleep cycle. He’d tried to curtail the celebrations, but after two plus years of training and hard work, he didn’t have the heart to shut it down completely. Nevertheless, he had made sure that the crew drank no alcohol nor became involved in any brawls. He’d put them to bed early, emphasizing the need for rest. Only once, during the celebrations, did he have to pull Lucas off detractors after they made derogatory comments about his crew winning. Still, most of the candidates recognized their team’s outstanding scores and supported the committee’s decision. Congratulations trumped complaints for the most part.
The next day they'd shuttled up to Alysia Station and settled in quickly, anticipating the test. Everything had gone smoothly without a hitch until now.
And now, Deane’s dazed mind didn’t understand what was wrong with his body, except that the mere act of breathing caused untold agony. “Argh.” He flailed around trying to get comfortable and failing.
Across the room, similar sounds floated over from other beds. He heard Lucas cursing and Harry’s staccato-like moans.
“Oh, dear Lady, save me.” That came from the bed across the way where Garrett suffered their same fate.
Lieutenant Lord burst in, causing Deane’s stomach to roil at the noise caused by her entrance. For once, even her glorious face didn’t ease his pain.
“What’s happened?” she asked, bewildered. She rushed over to his bed and put a cool hand on his burning forehead.
Only moans and groans answered her. She scanned the room as realization flooded her face. “I just came from Jet’s room and she’s a mess too. What’s going on?”
Deane tried to clear his head, but the fierce pounding continued, while his eyeballs burned like coals in their sockets. “We may have been drugged or poisoned,” he gasped. �
��I hurt so much I want to die.”
“You can’t.” She straightened up and bit her lip. “Today’s the prototype’s test. The entire press corps is here. Representatives from the Government Galley are jockeying for front row seats. Your crew is slated to fly. You can’t be sick.” Her voice ended on a wail.
Hallie unnerved was something he’d never seen before. Deane flailed a hand at her. “I know. I know.” He tried to sit up, but an overwhelming bout of nausea prevented him. “I’m trying, but if my crew feels like I do, they won’t be capable of flying any kind of ship today.”
Henry Longstaff strode through the open door to their unit. “The med unit is reporting problems.”
Moans answered him.
“Oh frag, no.” Horrified, he took in the room full of agonized cadets. “I must alert the President.”
“I’ll notify Richard.” Hallie peered at Deane, concern etched on her face.
Communicating through his comm to the program leaders, Henry said, “Have them ready Davis’ crew. We can’t back out now. Everyone’s here or on their way. Oh, what a cockup.” Longstaff whirled around heading out, shouting orders into his comm as a flurry of doctors passed him on their way in. Hallie followed as soon as the door cleared of equipment.
Doctors began poking and prodding, attaching intravenous tubes to his arms and offering awful tasting, thick, medicine to alleviate the pain. Deane closed his eyes. Nothing really helped. Whatever was tearing up his insides would only be cured by the passing of time, and possibly other bodily matter.
***
After a time, orderlies brought in a monitor, so his crew could view the prototype’s test. Deane propped up, trying to focus on what was happening. His first and foremost thought was that someone from Davis’ crew had drugged them in order to gain the top spot. He didn’t like nor trust that group.
The long delay, caused by the change in crew personnel, made the audience restless. Many were not used to the low gravity of the station and used drink or drugs to numb the strange feeling. Others didn’t need an excuse. The station soon became one big raucous party while all waited.
Alysia station filled to maximum capacity. Deane noticed Adrian in a highly agitated state, running from one venue to another, stopping only momentarily to check on his crew’s condition. He felt his uncle blamed him for their illness and the resulting chaos on the station.
Finally, they restarted the countdown. Davis and crew waved to the cameras, wide grins on their faces. Triumph sparkled from their eyes as they made their way through the launching bay to where the compact, but powerful looking warship waited, tethered next to the New Found Hope.
Bastards!
As a captain, Deane wanted so much to be at the controls of that powerful craft, but he could barely focus on the activities on the screen due to the agony that wracked his body. He felt angry that his crew would not be making history today.
Launch approached, and he heard, “Three, two, one and separation.” The monitor showed the prototype breaking away and gliding outward.
Wild jubilation broke out all over the station with cameras flashing and people cheering. More celebratory cocktails were ordered.
Once clear, the ship’s fusion cells ignited, and she leaped forward, soaring to the designated target, located at a good distance from the station.
“Speed of 3,000 mph achieved,” burbled the broadcaster. “Soon they’ll be entering target range.”
Flawlessly, the ship danced through a series of intricate maneuvers. Tears blurred Deane’s eyes as he recognized the sheer beauty and power of the craft. He wanted to be there in the captain’s seat, making history with his crew. He slumped in his seat as disappointment and anger wracked him.
“Weapons have the targets in sight,” said their announcer.
A flash shot out of the ship toward a mock-up of an attacking enemy, immediately followed by a fiery ball of light that engulfed the prototype.
Stunned, Deane watched in horror as the ship exploded into millions of blindingly bright fragments and disappeared off the screen. All cheering abruptly stopped. Everyone stared at the disaster, shocked at the sight.
He shuddered as he realized how close he’d come to being on board. His body shook with the horror in front of him. As much as he’d hated Davis and his bullying, he’d never wanted him to die. Guilt and grief washed over him.
A shock wave bumped the station, sending everyone staggering.
Pandemonium broke out.
He leaned over and threw up.
Chapter 39
Launch
Richard paced back and forth in his living room. Elise watched, understanding his pain, because it so closely matched her own.
“I never want to live five days like that again.” Richard rubbed his hand through his hair. “Bright young cadets killed because the President wanted the publicity. I tried to delay the test. To cap it all off, the media turned their funeral into a spectacle. It was too painful to watch, much less stand there in person after knowing those kids.”
Elise walked up to him and put her arms around him. “President Courtland was never going to be talked into delaying the test. I thought you understood that. At least, we saved the best of the best.”
He pulled back with a wide-eyed expression blooming on his face. “Tell me you didn’t do anything to Deane’s crew.”
She swung away from him and stumbled over to the sofa to sit, exhausted. He followed her and sat beside her. He grabbed her arm. “Tell me you didn’t.”
A quick glance showed her Tempest playing happily in her crib in the next room. “Mama, mama, mama,” filled the sudden silence that lapsed between them.
She shook her arm loose. “It took us hundreds of years to cross space, searching for a place where we might survive. Hundreds of deaths with pain, sweat, and agony along the way. I’ll never forget it. It haunts me even now.”
A pause, and she continued, “But when we found this world, I thought it all would finally be worthwhile. Here was a chance for a family, a home, and possibly love. That has been my entire life’s goal. Now it’s threatened. I’ll do anything to protect this world and its future. Anything.”
Richard stiffened to stare at her. “But you let innocent kids be killed.”
A quiet descended over her, and she settled her hands in her lap. “President Courtland was hell-bent on having that test run before his election. I truly didn’t know if that prototype would be successful or not. I only knew we couldn’t afford to send out our best crew with that risky model.
He stared at her. “Did you know someone had tampered with the weapons panel?”
She looked away. “No, of course not. But if Ji was able to infiltrate the program so easily, I was worried. I knew the Ching T’Karre wanted it to fail and so did the United Republic, then add in the devious Diechwrathe. Gads, what chance did it have of succeeding?”
“Well, there’s no chance now.” He jumped from the sofa and strode to the other side of the room to the fireplace mantle.
She rose.
In the next room, they heard, “Mama, Mama, Mama.”
Inhaling abruptly, she went still.
He pivoted, glaring at her. “What have you done?”
She exhaled and shrugged. “Your Alysian station prototype was always meant to be a distraction, anyway.”
“What?”
“Oh, just think for a minute.”
“There’s another?”
“No one has considered Earth2. After all, we’re just lowly Terrans.”
He caught his breath. “Who understand how to build spaceships and make them function properly.”
“Exactly.” She smiled and reached up to pat his cheek. “And no one has paid any attention to a project Abbie has been working on in secret there.”
“With Carter’s help?”
“And lots of other bright people. In addition, security at Earth2 has been tighter than…”
“… a tick? See I’m learning your crazy sayin
gs that make no sense.”
She smiled. “Yes, you’re catching on.”
“How far along are they?”
“Close to completion. I predict that the Ching T’Karre will have problems with their prototype if they launch.”
Richard pursed his lips. “You haven’t done anything there, have you?”
She waved a hand. “No, but the Santine Corporation is not above sabotage to achieve their goals. I have great confidence that they’ve arranged problems for the Ching T’Karre launch because they’re having trouble with their own.”
Richard crossed his arms and frowned. “Don’t be too sure. The Ching T’Karre have capable resources to help them build a winning ship.”
“Yes. I'm aware of Bashar and Solanje. You fed them top secret plans of the Democratic Union’s prototype, handing over detailed blueprints. You don’t think that young lady didn’t funnel those plans straight to daddy’s construction site? Such a gorgeous piece of eye candy would never be so clever, eh?”
He looked away. “We need to get ships built. At this point, I don’t care who does it. I mentioned that fact to Bashar. We have sighted alien ships at the farthest reach of our solar system. They are on their way. Out that far gives us some time, but we can’t waste it with political squabbles.”
“Agreed. Let the Ching T’Karre launch. If they’re successful, fine. They deserve an opportunity to prove themselves. But if their ship fails, tell President Courtland you have a solid backup. We can’t keep wasting good men in flawed ships. I don’t want to attend any more funerals.”
“We agree there.”
In the next room, Tempest shouted, “Mama, Mama.” There was a pause. Then they heard, “Da, Da, Da.”
***
Deane stared morosely at the screen that dominated the ready room. Around him, all the cadets-in-training watched with him. The United Republic had delayed their launch yet again, but the Ching T’Karre was ready to go. The Broadcast news had been going on and on about the launch for days now. Deane just wished it would be over, so they would build the fleet, and he could fly.
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