Rocket’s Red Glare

by David Hardy

  Wu said nothing as Maldonado stormed from the room, making a dramatic exit in spite of the low gravity.

  “He’s right,” Longstreet said. Wu spun on him and almost lost her balance. She had been on the Moon fewer days than he had and still struggled to adjust to the gravity. “You must let everyone on Earth know. This is the greatest thing since fire. Maybe the wheel.” He paused. “And you need to cut off the juice to the cubesats. They are more annoying than anything, but they still cut our resolution by a percent or two.”

  “Where’s the comm to Nearside? The cable?”

  He silently pointed her toward the communications room. They called it that, but it lacked even a chair. Gupta had dismantled the chair a week ago for a project and none of them had much reason to chat with the staff at Nearside. The few scientists there were all bureaucrats. If they had tied in with the north polar X-ray observatory crew or even the low-g materials lab scientists, they would have had more in common than with petty UN meddlers. But they didn’t. The isolation was extreme.

  With a few quick turns on his own controls, he brought the rectenna array online again. He took no pleasure in seeing that the hundreds of darting centimeter per side cube comsats that Wu had launched did reduce his resolution about one percent. He had designed the equipment, and although he had not been on site when the ribbony arms were rolled out, he knew the equipment perfectly.

  If only he hadn’t been goofing off trying to win the silly bet with Sunny Gupta. He might have been the one to discover Liber instead of his assistant. He didn’t begrudge Fumi the find, but he should have been the one. He cried out when the emergency cutoff killed power to the antenna sensors. Panic seized him. To lose power now was a disaster. Then he remembered Maldonado had said he was heading straight back to Nearside.

  Everything shut down to avoid overload when the hopper launched. Those crude buggies leaked EMP like a sieve. He wheeled around in his chair and found the communications frequency used by the hopper.

  “Dr. Maldonado, you are cleared for takeoff. The rectenna’s powered off.”

  “Hey, boss man, I already cut the juice.”

  “Sunny? Are you with Maldonado?”

  “Yeah, me and him and three crew. He didn’t give me the chance to let you know he’s going to use me as expert witness. He wants you and Fumi to keep up observations, and especially he wants you to feed him directly the information about Liber and any messages from the little green men there.”

  “He stuck me with Wu and four of her flunkies?”

  Gupta laughed. “Serves you right cheating me out of naming the WART.”

  “That was my name. You wanted to call it FART.”

  “No, you – It doesn’t matter now. We can call it solid gold. Dr. Maldonado says to use his personal frequency through the cubesats, direct to him, so you don’t go through the main switchboard. The walls have ears, you know.”

  “I understand.” Longstreet glanced over his shoulder. Wu spoke urgently into the comm unit using the coaxial cable. From the way she gestured and shifted from foot to foot, she was fit to be tied. Then she settled down and cupped her hand around the microphone, as if whispering. “Her Royalness is talking to Nearside using the cable now.”

  “Why’s she doing that? She ordered the cubesats orbited to give clearer comm.”

  “Who knows if she even knows why she does half the things she does. Maybe she doesn’t want everyone listening to the cubenet to know what she’s up to.” Longstreet saw that the hopper cleared the field and began skimming over the surface on its way back to Nearside base. “You uphold the dignity of scientists. I know it’ll be hard on you, but remember not to claim all the glory for yourself.”

  “I’ll mention how you cheat building houses of cards. And I won’t forget what’s her name when the newsies come calling.”

  “I won’t do anything to you, but Fumi might skin you alive.”

  “Is that what they do in Nigeria now? Got to go. The doc says he wants radio silence until we land.”

  “Good luck, Sunny.”

  “Don’t make too many more breakthroughs before I get back. See you soon, Hugh.” Gupta’s voice vanished in a fuzz of static and then the carrier signal died entirely.

  He waited a few seconds to be sure nothing more came through from the hopper, then began powering up the rectenna again. Wu might be looking over his shoulder constantly now, but he and Fumilayo had real science to do. And an alien civilization to decipher.

  ○●○

  “What are you going to put into our reply capsule?” Longstreet watched Wu’s reaction. She tried to keep a neutral look and failed. “From what they said they were sending, there’s a great deal of chemical info from their big planet. We need to figure out how to correlate data about Earth and—”

  “No! That will give them an advantage. From what you have translated, they are sending information about Liber, not the world they live on. This is a trap, an opening move to lure us into revealing our weaknesses they can exploit.”

  “We haven’t seen any indication they are hostile. If anything, they aren’t even taking time to think over their responses.”

  “It seems as if they are answering before we ask our questions,” Enahoro said from her station across the room.

  “Do you think they are telepathic and reading our thoughts?”

  Longstreet almost laughed when Wu blanched at the notion. What could be worse than some alien being reading a politician’s true thoughts?

  “I’m not sure how we can swap actual material. Our fastest probe would take years to get to Liber and by then they would have swept away, making it harder to catch up.”

  “That’s true only if you use NFA or UN engines.” Enahoro touched a control, and the screen in front of Longstreet popped up with a research facility in the middle of dense jungle. “We have developed the Franklin Chang-Diaz engine. It’s—”

  “Nigeria has built it, you mean.” Wu made a dismissive motion. “It’s nuclear powered and therefore outlawed. The only reason your politicians pushed development was to use native yellow cake uranium since its sale is banned internationally.”

  “The VASIMR engine works,” Enahoro insisted. “The UN refuses to approve it for use because our scientists did it in spite of your opposition. You don’t want to admit Nigeria can be more advanced when it comes to anything scientific, much less space exploration.”

  Longstreet saw Wu stiffen and knew what she would say next. He would lose his best assistant over the engine developed sporadically over the past eighty years. Wu toed the line on anti-nuclear so much that she would sacrifice the entire staff responsible for contacting the first intelligent aliens. Or maybe this would simply give her the excuse to replace him and Fumi with her own toadies. Fighting the NAF was difficult, but no one would take Nigeria’s side.

  “There are other ways to deal with the aliens. It’s not as if they will do anything to us if we don’t exchange curios.” Longstreet saw this did nothing to assuage Wu. Enahoro clamped her mouth shut until her jaw trembled from the strain. “We might end up the real winner.”

  Enahoro wasn’t going to let any UN functionary insult her country’s scientific efforts. Longstreet didn’t blame her. Of all the equatorial African countries, Nigeria had worked the hardest and prospered the most using their resources after the Sunni jihadis had been routed and the Ahmadiyya government brought a measure of peace to a war-torn country. After oil became a drag on most economies, Nigeria had reached out and accepted help from other countries. That they had rejected China in favor of the EU and NAF might spark more of Wu’s antipathy.

  “We can—”

  A klaxon, accompanied with flashing red lights, threatened to deafen them. Enahoro spun about and brought up the emergency communique from Nearside. The screen filled with a frightened face.

  Longstreet thought he recognized the man but might have been wrong. Too many of the comm staff had arrived after him. Before he gave the go-ahead, the man blurted, �
�Director Wu. He’s dead. They’re all dead.”

  “Quit babbling. What are you talking about?”

  “Dr. Maldonado and the others from Farside. Their hopper. It smashed into a hill on approach, and they crashed and they’re all dead. They lost air and their suits weren’t up to the wreck and by the time our rescue team reached them, they were all dead.”

  Shock gripped Longstreet. He tried to speak, failed, paused, then got a better grip on his emotions.

  “Sunny Gupta? Maldonado? Both dead?”

  “All of them, everyone on the hopper. How they missed the landing beacon is beyond me. We’ve checked and rechecked. All the approach equipment is working at the base, so that means something went wrong in their hopper, but we never got a distress message.”

  “The damned cubesats,” muttered Enahoro. “Those interfered with the signal.”

  “That’s not possible. Different frequencies,” Wu said. “Maldonado must have insisted on piloting. That’s the only excuse, unless there was some equipment failure.”

  Longstreet stared off into infinity. His mind tumbled endlessly, not coming to a conclusion that satisfied him. Exploration was dangerous. The Moon was dangerous and unforgiving, but this wasn’t a likely way of dying. He reached out and began accessing Nearside computers. Unless he missed his guess, those videos and all voice transmission would quickly be classified and hidden behind a firewall since he had the wrong clearance and lacked a need to know. Just as he finished his download, Wu spoke up.

  “With important members of your team unable to fulfill their duties, I am replacing everyone at the facility with a fresh set of eyes. Prepare for reassignment to Nearside, Doctor.”

  “I can put everything on auto. We don’t want to miss a signal from the aliens. What’ll it be, Director? A week before we—”

  “Your replacements will be here within the hour.”

  He involuntarily glanced toward the comm room. Wu had issued those orders via the hard line to Nearside. A lump colder than space formed in his belly. What other orders had she issued then? UN personnel willing to kill NAF scientists frightened him. Wu might fear the aliens circling Liber, but she couldn’t come close to the dread filling him now because of his own suspicions about men and women he had considered colleagues.

  “That’s not enough time to pack our personal gear,” Enahoro said. She swallowed hard, then asked, “Are letters of reprimand being entered in our employment files?”

  “No, not at all. Leave your gear. You’ll be back after a thorough debriefing. Back before you know it.” Wu spoke as she turned away so he couldn’t see her face.

  Longstreet was sure he would have read LIE!

  A few quick moves transferred the video file of the hopper crash to a record crystal, adding what he could about Liber and their first contact. The transfer wasn’t as comprehensive as he wanted, but it had to do. He slipped it into his pocket and sealed the cloth flap so the tiny record wouldn’t float away unnoticed. His eyes went wide when he saw from the screen that the Nearside report was already classified and blocked to him. He pressed his hand over the record crystal, vowing to be even more careful with what might be the only evidence of Maldonado’s and Gupta’s deaths.

  He stood and saw Enahoro watching him. A tiny smile curled her lips. Like the dancer that she was, she spun and took a leap that carried her gracefully through the hatch after Wu.

  The hopper taking them to Nearside arrived ten minutes later. Longstreet would have feared for his and Enahoro’s lives if Wu hadn’t accompanied them.

  ○●○

  “We’re prisoners. Nothing but prisoners locked up in a fancy cell.” Longstreet grumbled but it was more for the security cameras than it was Enahoro. She knew their situation as well as he did, but the UN enforcers wanted to see him protesting. Anything else would have been suspect.

  Let them think he felt impotent to get out of the suite of rooms where he and Enahoro had been sequestered since their debriefing a week earlier. He had worked diligently to gimmick the door lock. Then he had spent a couple of days digging deeper into the electronics to short out the camera feeds, when the time came.

  That was the problem. When was the time going to come? Getting free of the luxurious suite meant nothing unless he had somewhere to go. He pressed his hand over the lump in his pocket where the record crystal had remained hidden. Accusing Wu of murder was one thing, but handing over the only evidence he had of the alien contact was something else entirely. That had to be released to the world, but he saw no way of doing it.

  “They sent coordinates.”

  “What?” Longstreet broke free of the thought loop that prevented him from coming up with a decent idea how to proceed and stared at Enahoro. “What’s that?”

  She moved closer and shielded her lips with her hand.

  “The security pickup’s not good enough to hear a whisper,” she said. “I’ve been in touch with our astronauts. They are picking up the alien signal and recording it all.”

  “Nigerian astronauts?”

  “They are in lunar orbit now in our Herbert Macaulay. The VASIMR test isn’t a test. We lied. Our probe was intended to go to Mars.”

  “That’s not going to do us any good.”

  “Be quiet, Hugh, and listen. We don’t have much time. The Mars mission has been repurposed to go to Jupiter. The Macaulay’s crew has been monitoring the Liber messages and has the coordinates for the packet ship the aliens are sending. It will go into Jupiter orbit, and the aliens sent instructions for a reply. It has to be launched from Jupiter orbit.”

  “Why? What difference does that make?”

  Enahoro shrugged.

  “All we can figure is that they think we don’t have the computing power to launch a reply packet so they can snag it.”

  “We never gave them that idea.”

  “I don’t know, Hugh, I don’t know.”

  “We’re not going to find out trapped in here, either. Do you know what Wu is planning for us?” He read the expression on her face. “I think so, too. We’re never going to be let free.”

  “My source says it is worse than that. Remember Maldonado? And Sunny?”

  Longstreet had worried that Wu would keep them hidden but had skirted away from thinking she had really killed the other scientists and would not hesitate repeating the deaths to solve her problem.

  “She can’t explain away so many deaths.”

  “The Moon is dangerous. She says that all the time to justify her budget. Hugh, we’re going to be removed soon.”

  “How do you know? You would have to have spies everywhere.”

  “Poor, poor Hugh, always the ivory tower idealist. Every country has a network on the Moon. Are you in or out?”

  “In,” he said after a moment’s pause. “But I’d like to be on that ship going to Jupiter.” He blinked when she grinned broadly. Realization dawned on him. “Can we—?”

  The door unlocked and Jana Wu came in. Two armed UN guards in their blue berets and absurdly pressed uniforms positioned themselves outside.

  “Are you ready to return to the facility?”

  “You’re sending us back to the WART?” Longstreet almost laughed when he saw her confusion. “The Wide Area Receiving Tenia.”

  “I, yes, well, you and Dr. Enahoro can go back now. What belongings you have accumulated here will be sent along later.”

  “Why the rush?” Enahoro pointedly ignored Longstreet.

  This put him on guard. She hadn’t told him everything because of the security cameras. She and her allies had a plan of some sort in progress, and he had no idea how to help out. The best he could do was not foul it up by creating a fuss for Wu to react to.

  “The Security Council decided you two were the most expert in deciphering the signals. We have received several new messages in the past week that are... curious.”

  “What’s that mean?” Longstreet regretted blurting out the question but could not help himself. Being cooped up for so long incogn
ito had fed his curiosity about the aliens, Liber, and everything else.

  “You’ll be briefed on the way. There is a hopper waiting for you.” She motioned them out into the corridor.

  Longstreet couldn’t help noticing how the two guards fell into step behind them, hands on their weapons. He wondered what they carried since projectile weapons were dangerous in a pressurized environment. Stun guns, possibly, or more deadly laser pistols. Their presence convinced him that he and Enahoro walked to their deaths, not back to the rectenna. He stopped suddenly, turned and saw three men leaving the suite with black plastic bags. It took no imagination to picture them scooping clothing, toiletries or anything else used by the two into the bags for disposal. All DNA trace would be removed later, using toxic chemicals.

  “This way. Please, come along. I am late for a meeting and want to assure the council that you are on the job.” Wu smiled. Longstreet had seen skulls with more sincere grins.

  He and Enahoro went down the inclined passage to a cargo deck. A line of four air locks with attached flexible entry tubes stood open. Wu pointed to the far lock.

  Longstreet touched the crystal memory holding all they had received and knew about the aliens and the proposed probe exchange, Liber and, as important as any of that, what he had accumulated about Wu and the possibility she had ordered Gupta and Maldonado killed.

  “Goodbye.” Wu held out her thin-fingered hand and ushered them into the tube leading to the hopper.

  Neither of them said anything. The single word carried a ring of finality to it that caused a lump to form in Longstreet’s belly. He hurried forward, bent almost double and wiggled through the hopper’s small airlock. He took a deep breath. The typical stale odor made his nostrils flare. Enahoro shared his concern, already cycling shut the airlock behind them and starting the automatic checklist. Green lights showed all over the small instrument panel.

  Longstreet settled into the pilot’s chair and began his own check, then gave up.