Adventures of the Starship Satori: Book 1-6 Complete Library

by Kevin McLaughlin

  An alarm beeped urgently from his console, interrupting his thoughts.

  “Majel, display radar to main screen,” he said.

  “Acknowledged,” the computer replied in a woman's voice. John’s wall screen changed in an instant to reflect the local radar telemetry. He bounded from his desk for a closer look, skipping over the fiberglass floor in the low gravity. He might be pushing fifty, but on the moon he sometimes felt like a kid thanks to the reduced gravity.

  There it was again, the trace of the satellite as its orbit carried it once more toward his base. It would pass almost directly overhead in about ten minutes, according to the display data. He tapped the screen to zoom in on the object.

  This was the tenth time in the last three days that particular satellite had zipped by overhead. In fact, the computer analysis of its course showed that it had changed trajectory more than once in order to shift orbits and pass by his base from a different angle. The satellite was ostensibly owned by an Indian mining corporation. John had queried their main office about the device, and been told that it was making survey passes to look for prime sites for launching their own helium-3 operation. Since the first operational fusion reactors had come online a few years ago, mining for helium-3 on Luna had become a high agenda item for a number of nations. It wasn't abundant in the regolith of the moon, but it was impossible to get on Earth in the volumes required to head off the blooming energy crisis. It was probably now the most valuable substance in the solar system. Everyone wanted to stake their own claim in the new ‘gold rush’.

  Yeah, the satellite could be a survey device. Or that could just be a good cover. John's mining operation was the first one successfully pulling helium-3 from the moon. A lot of folks were interested in how he was doing it. Corporate espionage was a real risk, and he had secrets within secrets that he didn’t want getting out to the world just yet. If his rivals on Earth had an inkling of the full scope of what he was doing here, there would be a lot more satellites out there.

  “Majel, ring General Bennett's office, please? Tell them that satellite is doing another fly-by.”

  Bennett was his link into the United States military command. His office was the one that had fronted the money for Caraway Industries to start this venture up. John's pitch was a good one: if the Army had first dibs on the helium-3 Caraway pulled out, they'd be set for energy reserves. He made the issue into one of national security – if he didn't get there first, another nation was going to do so. The generals made nice with politicians and got him the money he'd needed that the private sector couldn't afford. Overnight, John had gotten access to every Swiftbow rocket the Air Force could manufacture. At a cost of four billion dollars per launch, the start-up expenses had run into the low twelve digits in launch costs alone.

  The energy crisis was bad enough that the generals hadn't blinked.

  So in a scant six months, the moon had gone from having no humans on the surface, to his base operational, with a crew of almost a hundred. Already his mining engines were chewing up huge chunks of lunar regolith, grinding it into dust which could be processed into various components. The real gem was the helium-3, of course, but he was hoping to refine plenty of other materials out of the stuff as well. Silicon, aluminum, even titanium could be found in that dust. Some of it he'd use to expand the base, while more valuable bits were dropped back to Earth. One of the first things he'd sent out to the budding base was the biggest digital fabricator he could buy. The thing filled a room here. Even disassembled, it had taken the entire payload of one rocket launch to get it from Earth to the moon.

  But that fabricator had been crucial. From the debris left by tunneling out the base, he'd had the machine kick out silicon fiberglass for wall, floor, and ceiling panels. It had manufactured the doors, the furniture, and much more. Digital fabrication had come a long way in recent years – ten years before, hauling all the materials up from Earth would have made a base this big impossible.

  Instead, he had the makings of a self-sufficient city on the moon. Solar panels supported their power needs. The mining operation gave them access to minerals which they could then refine into most items through the fabrication machine. The hydroponics level gave them a means to recycle wastes, transform carbon dioxide into breathable oxygen, and fresh vegetables. The only tight spot was water - but the base had been built on top of a cavern filled with water ice. With careful recycling that ice had more than enough to supply their oxygen and water needs for years to come.

  Plenty of time to figure out what they were going to do next. This base held secrets which could not remain hidden forever. Sooner or later John knew he would have to reveal what he was developing there to the world at large. He just needed a little more time. Time to show the world what was possible. Time to create a vision that would take humanity into the future.

  He watched the satellite cross overhead on his screen and hoped that he would have enough.

  Four

  John's door chimed, bringing his thoughts back to the here and now. He quickly checked the hall camera to see who had arrived and smiled when he recognized her at once. He’d been expecting this visit.

  “Come,” he said.

  The door split down the middle, each half sliding into recessed ports on the walls with the quiet sound of electric motors whirring. He'd built every door in the base the same. In an emergency, those would slam shut, keeping atmosphere in wherever possible for as long as possible. Luna was a dangerous place, but he'd taken as many precautions as he reasonably could. The base was built to last, as solid a foundation for his work as engineering could provide.

  The woman standing in the doorway paused until the doors had slipped back completely, and then stepped inside his office. The doors slid closed after she'd crossed the threshold. John took one look at her stormy face and tried not to wince. This was not a woman to trifle with on the best of days. Especially so when her temper was up.

  “What do you think that satellite is up to now?” she said.

  “Hello, Beth. How's the rebuild on our project coming?”

  “It's well hidden from that floating spy-cam,” she snapped back. “But having satellites zipping by overhead is going to make it very hard for us to do any testing once the construction is complete.”

  “Nonsense,” John said. “We'll make it work. I knew from the start that we were going to attract interest up here. So long as it looks like our work here is all about mining and solar collection, no one's going to suspect anything else is going on. Certainly, no one would guess what we actually have.”

  Beth frowned. “No, probably not. And the project is buried deep enough that they can't spot it from orbit. But I still worry. Eventually you're going to have to run tests, you know.”

  “Actually, I plan to do so next week, if you can be ready.” He waited calmly for the explosion he knew was coming. Beth didn't disappoint.

  “Next week! And when were you planning to tell your lead engineer?” She glared at him, hands on hips.

  “I’m doing so now. I said, if you can be ready,” John replied. “Can you?”

  “Possibly. If we push hard on the final installations and checks. We could maybe manage a week,” Beth said. “But that’s jumping the schedule up quite a lot. Besides, you still need a pilot, right? Qualified ones aren’t exactly easy to come by, not with a dozen governments offering big bucks to them.”

  “And we need someone we can trust, which makes it even more challenging,” John reminded her. “But I've got one.”

  “Who?” Beth said.

  John flashed her a grin. “Guess.”

  “No. You did not,” she said, voice flat and dangerous.

  John sighed. This was going to be hard. He wasn’t the only one who had a history with the pilot he’d selected. He’d already given up on convincing Beth in the values of this plan. That was why he’d put things in motion before he discussed the matter with her. At the end of the day, John was still the one writing the checks that kept this
place running. It was his base. It was his call.

  “I trust him. You even trust him, if you think about it. And Dan's as qualified as you can get. If he hadn't been hit by a car, he'd be on his way to Mars right now,” John replied.

  “I still think we ought to talk about this more before you–”

  “He's on his way here. It's done, Beth. Dan's in.”

  Her mouth snapped shut in a thin line, her eyes narrowing. John had to struggle to keep from flinching at the flint he saw in her eyes. This whole thing might be a bigger problem than he’d thought. If Beth was this angry, it meant that she still cared. He’d have to watch the situation carefully as it developed, but the die had been cast. He was standing by his decision, damn it.

  “Fine. If that's all, then? I have to get back to work if you want me to be ready on your time line,” Beth said.

  Without waiting for his answer, she turned on her heel and left the office.

  John tapped a button on his desk, restoring the view to his camera, and stared out across the moonscape. He was taking a big chance, bringing Dan into the mix, and not just because of Beth’s issues. He knew that. But Dan really was one of the best possible solutions to his pilot problem. They'd been friends since college – Dan, a bright youngster with his head in the stars, and he a middle-aged businessman trying to learn about the new frontier, so he could be on the cutting edge when the expected commercial space boom exploded. If there was anyone he could trust to keep a secret, it would be Dan. He needed someone who was very good, and he needed someone he could trust implicitly. Dan filled both needs to a T.

  But his friend was damaged goods. John had managed to get a peek at Dan's psych evaluation along with the medical records on his accident. One stroke of bad luck, and Dan had gone from NASA's rising star to being delisted as a pilot and medically discharged from the Air Force.

  He clasped his hands behind his back. His friend was hurt more deeply than just the damage to his spine, severe as that was. His pride, his sense of self, his sense of purpose – John knew what it was like to wake up one day without a reason to keep on living. He'd never repay the debt he owed, but maybe he could make a start by giving Dan back that sense of purpose.

  A little speck of light flashed by his camera view for a minute; the satellite sliding by the base, taking more pictures to send who-knew-where. So many balls in the air, John thought. And the price for dropping any of them could be catastrophic.

  He sat down in his chair again and turned to the picture of his wife, as he often did when he was troubled. Her smile always reminded him why he was here. Satori had wanted to travel into space – to reach out into the beyond as far from the Earth as she possibly could. To her, the vastness of space was not empty, but full of mystery and wonder. But she'd shelved those dreams for a life with him, and then her star had been snuffed out trying to bring their son into the world. He'd thought that her dreams would have died with her.

  “But I have carried you into space, my love,” he said softly. “And I will make your name remembered, so that no one will ever speak of humanity's journey into the stars without saying it.”

  Five

  Dan woke up when the vehicle stopped. He blinked and looked around, feeling more sober after his rest during the ride. He knew this spot well; Andy had driven him to the Florida International Spaceport, the same set of pads from which NASA launched the Mars mission earlier this evening. A Swiftbow IV rocket was already standing in another launch berth a short distance away. It looked ready to go. That had to be his ride. Andy opened the door and reached in to unbuckle him, but he’d already undone the straps.

  “Eager to get out there?” Andy said, flashing a knowing grin.

  Dan couldn’t help but like this man with his easygoing manner and quick smile. He found himself hoping that Andy was more than just ground support for John. Maybe they’d see each other again, out there. Or after he returned. He found himself liking the idea and looking forward to it. That itself felt new to Dan. Looking forward to things was a concept he thought he had given up after the accident.

  “Damn right,” Dan replied.

  “Well, we’ll get you loaded right away. You’re the only new personnel flying out on this trip. The rest of the payload is supplies for the base,” Andy said as he worked the lift to lower Dan’s chair back down to the ground.

  “Base? How big an operation is John running out there?” Dan asked. And how had he missed hearing about all this? It wasn’t like he’d checked out entirely…except he realized that he had. Dan hadn’t been keeping up on the news much for the last six months. It hadn’t seemed to matter, so he didn’t really care.

  “You’ll see,” Andy said.

  A man in an orange jumpsuit ran over from the launch pad and moved as if to help with the wheelchair like he was an invalid. Dan cocked an eyebrow at him and engaged the motor, powering past the guy toward his ticket back into space. He might be stuck in a chair, but he could get around on his own just fine. He didn’t need someone to push him around. Besides, the motor chair would get him there faster than the guy would push, and he was anxious to be aboard and start this adventure. Half of him felt afraid this was all a dream, and that if he didn’t grab the chance fast enough someone was going to come along and tell him that he couldn’t go.

  “Hey, you'll want this,” Andy called to him, holding a tablet in his hand. “Some homework here about John's mining operation. John had me load some books he thought you'd like, too. It's a long flight.”

  Dan stopped and looked at him intently. With most of the alcohol out of his system, he was better able to take in the man's appearance. Andy was practically made of lean muscle. His blonde hair was slashed short in a cut that wasn't quite military. He wore a white polo shirt and beige slacks, with a casual charcoal blazer to round off the outfit. Andy turned for a moment, and Dan saw the telltale signs of a pistol holstered under his jacket in the small of his back.

  “Not going up?” Dan asked.

  “Not this time, Mr. Wynn.”

  “Call me Dan, please. Off to fetch more special projects for John?”

  “Something like that,” Andy replied noncommittally before heading back to the car and driving off.

  An interesting man. Military or a vet, Dan would bet money on that. Probably some sort of combat arms. It was there in the way Andy walked, the careful cadence of step that said he had experience moving with deadly force when he had to. He’d forgotten to ask if Andy would be joining them at Luna or not. Dan hoped he would. He seemed like someone who would be interesting to talk with.

  “This way please, sir,” the annoying guy in orange said, then started off toward the launch pad. Dan engaged the motor in his wheelchair again and followed, catching back up quickly. They reached the base of the rocket, and the technician inserted a card into a slot, which opened the elevator doors to allow them access. Dan followed him in, and they began gliding their way to the top of the rocket.

  He admired the vehicle as they sailed past it toward the capsule. The Swiftbow was a smallish vehicle mostly used to boost commercial satellites into orbit. Light and fast, if a bit bumpy on the takeoff compared to the larger rockets NASA tended to use for astronauts. But today there were four crew on board, including himself. He was last to arrive, so he didn't get a good look at any of them before shifting over to his flight chair.

  The same obnoxious tech who'd escorted him in pushed the wheelchair back into the lift before returning to check on him. When he got back he made as if to buckle Dan into the seat, and Dan had to chuckle a little at the look on his face when he saw the straps already expertly done up.

  “Kid, I've logged more hours in these rockets than just about anyone else alive,” Dan said.

  The tech's face lit up with a smile. “I know, sir. Should've known better. I read about what you did.”

  “Yeah?” Dan said, his expression suddenly guarded. The other man seemed not to notice.

  “It was what a hero would do, sir. Glad to
see you going back out there.” He stepped out of the capsule and closed the hatch.

  A hero? Dan had been given that line before. The Air Force had even given him some silly medal or other over the episode. He hadn’t felt heroic at the time. He’d just done what needed doing. What he thought anyone would have done if they’d seen a little kid in danger. You help those who can’t help themselves. That wasn’t heroic. It was just part of being a decent human being.

  Wasn’t it? Dan worried at the problem for a few minutes, thinking it over without coming to a resolution he was happy with. Then the rumbling of the rocket’s engines as they prepared to lift off brought him back to reality. Adrenaline shot through him, same as it always had right before launch. Only this time was even better, more sweet than ever before, because he’d thought that this was lost to him forever.

  Ten minutes later, they were off. No delays? Dan was impressed.

  Acceleration during liftoff hurt his back, enough pain that it made him bite his lip to keep from swearing.

  OK, launch hurt. No shock there. But it was that sort of pulled muscle pain, like when you were trying to work something injured again a little too soon. He had a feeling pulling any serious gees in the future would always at least twinge a little, but he could cope with that. He'd welcome it, if it meant being able to work in space again.

  He smiled. He was really doing it. Strapped into the top of this roman candle on steroids, he was going back into space. He'd thought this part of his life was over. Next to that, the pain didn't matter. Neither did not knowing what John was up to – and knowing John, he was up to something...

  ...and then he was weightless again, and the pain went away. Not just faded, not merely less. Gone. He took a deep breath, exhaled. The pain in his back had been with him ever since the accident. Surgery and rehab afterward hadn't taken it all away, although it had gotten better. Pain medication hadn't taken it all away either. But the weightlessness of space took the pressure off screaming nerves in his damaged spine, and gave blessed relief.