THE BRINK - OPERATION DEEP FLIGHT

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THE BRINK - OPERATION DEEP FLIGHT Page 15

by Marshall Huffman


  “I thought everyone was at Otis now.”

  “Everyone but Doctor Long and the people she is bringing in from AccuTech. They can do nothing until all the peripheral systems are installed. All of the trunk lines are being installed according to their specifications but their tech staff won’t arrive until all systems are in place. Once they arrive, you can start getting excited.”

  “How long will their part take?”

  “If all goes well, and with Dr. Long in charge I know it will, it should take about eight to ten weeks”

  “How close are we to getting AccuTech out here?”

  “I’m not sure. Four or five months.”

  “Okay. Okay. We’re still way ahead of schedule.”

  Peter just nodded. His people were making no progress.

  They could make the system work all right, as long as the DSV didn’t exceed five knots. Once they got much above that speed the system could not extract the information quickly enough to allow the sub to navigate safely. Seven knots was the absolute maximum and even that was scary.

  “Ray, they are all doing a great job but one team is really starting to fall behind.”

  “Really? Who is that?”

  “DigiLabs.”

  “I knew something was worrying you. You don’t seem yourself. What’s the problem?”

  “We can get the system to work in the simulator but not at the speed that the Chameleon is capable of.”

  “How fast?”

  “The best we can do is seven knots.”

  Marcus didn’t say anything for a while.

  “What do you need?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I’ve talked it over with almost everyone here that has any background in that area and nothing productive has come out of it.”

  “What about the Air Force?”

  “I’ve talked to two or three of their top guys and they gave us some help. In fact it’s really because of them that we have made this much progress. The problem is that once it gets underwater it all slows down, reaction, response, the whole kit and caboodle.”

  “It will work on land but not under the ocean,” Marcus said, rubbing his chin reflectively.

  “Hey. That’s a great idea,” Peter suddenly said excitedly.

  “What?” Marcus asked, confused.

  “Asking NASA.”

  “I didn’t say anything about NASA,” Marcus said, shaking his head.

  “You said, ask the Air Force. NASA is the same thing except their planes fly really high.”

  “Yeah. Really, really high,” Marcus agreed.

  “I have a really good friend that worked at NASA. He worked on the Pioneer probe. If anyone can figure this out I’ll bet its Luke.”

  “Luke?”

  “Dr. Luther Hall. Great guy. Just like me but not as modest.”

  “Oh great, all need is to have two of you running around here,” Marcus kidded.

  “Look, if I can’t shake him loose, I may have to call on your muscle.”

  “Not a problem. Just let me know when and where. The Secretary of Navy has called me three times in the past two months asking about our progress. He still won’t tell me what’s up but it must be really big.”

  “Maybe it’s your charming personality.”

  “Nice Pete. Really nice. I don’t have to come all the way up here to New Port to get abuse. I can get that at the Pentagon any time, thank you very much.”

  “Stop. You’re making me feel bad,” Pete said, obviously not meaning it.

  Peter gave Marcus a tour of the Chameleon and brought him up to speed on the progress they had been making. The Expulsion System was just about installed. It would be ready for testing in a couple of weeks. Dr. Morgan gave the Admiral a quick demonstration on how the hull system worked.

  “As you can see, they look like large breast implants,” he joked.

  “Some implants,” he said, holding one up that was almost four feet in diameter.

  “Yes, well, anyway we then apply heat to the bottom of the cell,” he said and started to turn the dial on the temporary control panel they had set up for testing.

  “As you can see it has already started going from clear to milky white. A little more frequency,” he said and tuned the dial, “and voile.”

  The pod turned to a pale blue. Dr. Morgan kept turning up the amplification and the color continued to darken.

  “As you can see, it’s a matter of checking the surrounding area with the sensors we have installed. Like this one here,” he said, pointing to one of the installed devices. “This information is fed into the computer along with such things as the temperature, salinity, outer pressure and the like. The computer indicates the correct dose of good old shock treatment and there you have it.”

  “What holds them in place?”

  “The same thing that holds the space shuttles tiles in place. Glue. Well, a kind of glue. Don’t worry Admiral, they will stay place at speeds far above 35 knots. I guarantee it.”

  “I don’t doubt you for a second.”

  They continued on and talked to the General Dynamics people installing the sub's drive system.

  “Once this baby is moving, you won’t be able to tell it’s even there. It will not leave a signature of any kind. No thermal signature either. You are going to love it.”

  Peter and Ray continued through the sub's various compartments. Everyone was busy and only stopped to chat briefly.

  “This is where the coupling device is going to be located,” Peter told him as they looked down the 30 inch circular hole in the deck. They could see to the dry dock bottom.

  “We had to reroute some trunk lines and a few hydraulic systems but it worked out for the best.”

  “It’s not in a great location,” Marcus commented.

  “It’s the best we could come up with without having to change a lot of the design parameters. It will do the trick.”

  “We should have thought of it in the beginning.”

  “Doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.”

  “I guess I had better be getting back. You think the propulsion system will be functional in two weeks?”

  “That’s what they said. I would tell the Secretary three just to be safe. Then if it’s ready sooner you’ll look like a genius.”

  “Good plan. Is that what you do with me?”

  Peter didn’t answer. He just grinned. Peter drove the Admiral back to the chopper pad, said his farewells and waved good-by. He was anxious to call Luke.

  * * *

  “Dr. Hall, I presume,” Peter said jokingly.

  “Hi Peter. What’s up?” came the rather deadpan response.

  “Hey guy. What’s going on? You don’t sound like yourself.”

  “Nothing. Nothing really. What gives?”

  “Luke. It’s me. Don’t try to con a con. Is it Liz?”

  “Oh Peter. I don’t know what to do. She had become a different woman since she lost the baby. It’s been over a year and she still mopes around. I can hardly get her to leave the house. All we do is argue or we don’t talk at all. It’s all coming unglued.”

  “Luke, you’re going to have to get her some professional help for both of your sakes. Listen Luke, you need to put a little space between the two of you.”

  “Yeah. I tried to talk them into sending me to the moon. That should be just about enough space,” Luke tried to joke.

  “Luke, I could really use your help up here in New Port. I’ve really hit the wall and I need someone who knows about navigational systems.”

  “Navigational. Since when do you mess around in that area?”

  “Good question. Look, I need help. What do you say? I talked to the Navy and they say if you want to help they will pay you a very attractive consulting fee. I told them you were the top man on the Pioneer project and that you wouldn’t work cheap.”

  “I appreciate that but I wasn’t the top man,” he said, trying to set the record straight.

  “I know that, but they don’t. I
t means a cool two thousand dollars a week.”

  “Wow. A week? You must really need help.”

  “Honestly buddy, I really do. The navigational system is close to holding up the entire program. If we don’t get it going soon we’re really going to fall behind big time.”

  “What have you done so far?”

  Peter went into great detail about the design parameters and everything that they had tried so far. They talked for a good hour. Luke was starting to sound like his old self again.

  “The amplification alone didn’t really help the response time?”

  “That’s right.”

  “It should have. Maybe not a lot, but some.”

  “It didn’t.”

  “Peter, let me think about this some more. I have a couple of ideas.”

  “I was sure you would. So, are you going to come?”

  “Yes. I think the time apart might do both of us some good. Liz will be forced to deal with some of the things she has refused to tackle with me around. Yeah Peter. I’m coming. Of course I may have a little harder time with work than Liz.”

  “No you won’t. I already have someone working on it as we speak.”

  “Pretty sure you could get me to come weren’t you?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t let me fall on my face. At least not too hard.”

  “Well, I am in-between projects right now anyway. Our probe finally quit transmitting last month and Voyager IX is on its way. It will take it almost three years to reach Saturn. I think I have a little spare time.”

  “The probe is functioning as planed?” Peter asked.

  “Not exactly. We keep getting different readings. There must be something in the atmosphere that is causing us to get false readings. It got there safe and sound and the initial data looked promising but now we are getting weird data back. The Voyager will solve the mystery undoubtedly,” Luke said.

  “It was a good start. You should be proud of what you accomplished.”

  “Yeah. Right.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  - THE SEA OF OKHOTSK -

  At 65,000 feet you can actually see the earth’s distinct curvature. It would not take much more altitude to slip through the sticky fingers of Earth’s gravity. The Tupolev-160 was traveling at just under Mach 2. They had just cleared the mainland and were headed out over the Sea of Okhotsk. They were to head south toward the Sea of Japan, cross over Tokyo heading east and then turn back toward the Bearing Straits. They would refuel from a TU-22C Backfire once they reached the mid Pacific.

  It had been a routinely boring flight. Several of the crew members nodded off from time to time. Clouds were starting to build up many thousands of feet below them. While it wouldn’t affect them, it might interfere with the planned photo reconnaissance mission that was scheduled, once they turned over Japan.

  The Captain had just taken another quick glance at the instrument gauges in front of him. He wondered how many times a flight he actually did check the instruments. Hundreds? He felt a slight vibration run through the plane but spotted nothing out of the ordinary. Everything was normal. He could see the stars. They looked so close that he felt he could actually reach out and touch them. Another shutter went thought the TU-160.

  “Hey. Did you feel that?” he asked the co-pilot who was sleeping next to him.

  “What? I felt nothing.”

  “I felt a vibration. Actually it is the second time. You didn’t fart again did you?”

  “You’re still alive aren’t you? If I fart, you’ll know, believe me......” a more pronounced shutter vibrated the craft.

  “Yes. I felt that. Everything looks normal. Fuel flow, EGT, power settings. All normal.”

  “Well, we are certainly not getting turbulence at this altitude.”

  The aircraft shook violently for several seconds. The

  Captain and co-pilot looked at each other startled.

  “What is going on?”

  “Captain,” one of the crew said over the earphones.

  “Yes, we know. Can you see anything wrong back there?”

  “No Captain. Very thing looks perfectly normal.

  A blinding light filled the cockpit and the pilots covered their eyes. It was so intense that they could actually feel heat.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know. A nuclear explosion I think,” he shouted.

  “We had better turn and call........”

  A loud noise filled the cabin as well as the light. The plane was pitching and yawing all over the place. Just as quickly, the light and noise were gone. The plane stopped shaking. The pilots took their hands down. It was pitch black. Maybe the light had caused retina damage. The co-pilot found his flashlight and turned it on. The captain gave out a sharp yell.

  “Sorry Captain.”

  “You scared the crap out of me. I thought I had gone blind. What in the world is going on? Can you see the stars?”

  “No. I see nothing,” he said shining the flashlight out the cockpit canopy.

  “Look at the gauges,” the Captain almost shouted.

  “This can’t be. Something has caused them to malfunction.”

  “Are we dead? Did we hit another plane?”

  “Of course not. I don’t know what’s going on, but I know we’re certainly not dead.

  “Then explain why we are at almost full power and have no air speed indication. Look at the compass. It’s spinning like a top. No altitude showing. Nothing. Can you see anything?”

  “Captain, what is happening? I can see nothing outside the plane. Our radar is picking up nothing.”

  “I have no transmissions either, Captain.”

  “Sir, I can’t get any of our navigational systems to work.”

  “Quiet. All of you. I’m trying to think.”

  “Captain,” the co-pilot said.

  “What?”

  “Sir, maybe you were right. Maybe we are dead. Look,” he said, pointing out the canopy.

  “What in the world is it?”

  “I don't think it’s from this world, Captain.”

  “Me either.”

  * * *

  - MOSCOW -

  “We have lost one of our Tupolev 160’s.”

  “How?”

  “We don’t know yet. It was on a routine flight when it disappeared off the screens, Comrade Kasha.

  “Just disappeared off the screen?”

  “Yes Comrade.”

  “Disappeared? As into Japan or the American's hands? This is not going to be another one of those embarrassing incidents?”

  “I hope not Comrade. It doesn’t appear to be anything like that. The radar controller said that something else might have interfered with the Tu-160.”

  “Interfered? Interfered? What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Analysis shows that an object appeared in the same area and may have hit or destroyed the Tu-160.”

  “Comrade, if you don’t tell me exactly what happened,

  I’m going to have you taken out and shot.”

  “They are saying that an unidentified flying object of unknown origin was in the area at the exact same time. It may have been the cause of the disappearance.”

  “A UFO,” he said, sitting back in his chair with his arms crossed. He just looked at the junior officer for some seconds.

  “Of course nothing of the plane can be found, including the six nuclear bombs.”

  “That is correct Comrade. We have found nothing.”

  “Get out of here and don’t come back until you can give me reasonable answers,” he yelled.

  The junior officer jumped up and scurried from the office. Even as the officer departed, the General knew that they would never find the answer. It was just like the missing submarine. UFO’s. The stupid Ambassador may have convinced some of the idiots but not him. Whoever was behind this wasn’t from some other world.

  * * *

  - WASHINGTON D.C.-

  “Mr. President something big is going
on. They have ships and aircraft all over the Southern tip of the Sea of Okhotsk.”

  “They lost a Blackjack bomber. What do you expect them to be doing?”

  “I guess the same thing we would be doing. Trying to find the wreckage.”

  “The bombs. They are trying to find the bombs.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “So does anyone have any brilliant ideas as to what is going on? This conversation with Doctor Long, are we taking that at face value? As absurd as it sounds, could aliens be doing this?”

  “Sir, I think I have someone who can validate what we were told by Doctor Long.”

  “And who is that, John?” the President asked.

  “Dr. William Stineman. He was in charge of NASA’s Pioneer and Voyager satellite programs. He has been to see me several times. At first I wasn’t too sure about his story but I have seen the data.”

  “And now?”

  “I think we should all hear what he has to say and make up our own minds.”

  “Get him up here. If you’re listening to this guy then maybe we all should.”

  “Sir, I took the liberty of contacting him already. After the Russians lost the Tu-160, I checked with the tracking and radar facilities that were monitoring the Blackjack. What they told me made me immediately call Doctor Stineman. He was working with the Chandra X-Ray Observatory that NASA launched when I caught up with him. After our talk, I decided it might be wise to have him nearby.”

  “Does he work with Doctor Long? She’s the one that brought us the transmission theory in the first place.

  “No sir. He probably knows her but he thinks he has an answer as to what is happening.”

  “He does, does he? And what do you think?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I think we should listen but keep pushing the Deep Flight program along for now,” he said.

  “When can you get this Doctor Stineman here?”

  “Well, sir, I’ve already sent for him. He is waiting outside right now.”

  “I see,” the president said looking at him. Initiative is a good thing he decided, “Well then, show him in,” the President said.

  A thin balding man slightly bent over and clasping a tweed cap in his hand, was escorted into room.

 

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