by Ron S. Nolan
Torch walked around the plane, surveying the damage. "It looks like the left tire is flat and that puddle below the right engine could indicate an oil leak. Does it still fly?"
Melinda didn't sound too convincing, "Sure–she needs a little work, but she's basically sound. The problem is that it costs a bundle to fill the tanks. You want to go somewhere?"
"Our first destination is Brazil. After that we need to get to the moon somehow."
Melinda laughed, "Brazil, that'll cost you a pretty penny. The moon will cost a fortune. You have a fortune to spend?" Torch fished in his backpack and handed her a diamond as big as her fist. Sounding innocent, he queried, "Brazil?"
"My God is it real? Where'd you get this beauty? It must be the largest in the world."
"It's pure diamond. It should be worth millions. Do you really care where it came from?"
Melinda expertly tossed the stone from hand to hand. "Not really. Sure is a small world, my husband's old Blue Origin Explorer in São Paulo might be able to reach the moon–if you could afford it. It's unique in that it has retractable wings and tricycle landing gear so it can use airport runways...if they are long enough. If not, it can launch straight up using boosters. Unfortunately, that kind of takeoff burns a lot of expensive fuel."
Torch pulled out the remaining diamond, which was even larger. "The moon?"
Melinda held the diamonds up to a ray of light and expertly checked them out. "I think these will do very nicely. I have some high roller contacts in Managua that I am sure would be interested. I can get one of my bar staff to drive me to Managua in the morning. It may take a few days and a lot of talking to make the sales. But as soon as the money is transferred to my bank in Havana, I’ll get a tank load of aviation fuel and return here as soon as I can. Meanwhile you can help by blowing up that tire and moving the plane to the staging area. Oh...and please clean out that rat nest."
They shook hands to seal the deal. "By the way, my last name is Kapintsky. You may have heard of my husband, Vladamir. He's the Russian cosmonaut who rescued the Mars Mission crew."
"Kapintsky? Sure that name is famous."
Melinda stashed the diamonds in her bag. "I never figured out how I got mixed up with a dude like him. But for someone that is certifiably bonkers, he's a darn good pilot and I am convinced that he must have been born under a lucky star."
"Why so?"
"Lucky...because it is amazing how many crashes he has walked away from."
"Oh."
Melinda led them back to the bar. "Let's go tell Dr. Sturtevant about our plan. I think she will be very pleased."
Torch offered, "It would be better if you tell her, we seem to have some sort of communication problem."
******
Torch and Melinda were deep into a discussion about their new strategy as they walked arm in arm into the bar. Astra was seated at a table drumming her fingers on the top. When she saw them, she got up and headed for the door. Torch tried to stop her, but she eluded his grasp.
"What's wrong? We have wonderful news. Didn't you get my note?"
"What note? Likely story. I leave you alone for a minute and you chase after another woman." She stormed out.
Melinda elbowed Torch in the side. "Don't worry; she's just a little jealous. Here's your room key. Make yourself at home. Before I leave, I will have a talk with the Doc and set her straight. I will be gone for a couple of days and contact you if there are any glitches."
"Jealous? Why? All right, you go. I'll handle the rat problem."
Melinda went into the back office and put the diamonds in a safe. She dialed Vladamir’s number. There was no answer so she left a message. ”Vlad, it's Melinda. I just got a deal you won't believe. This could be the big one that we have always been hoping for! I will be heading your way in a few days. Call me when you can. Goodbye my Russian hero."
-- CHAPTER 19 --
SDL Headquarters
An SDL technician briefed the Reverend using the vidscreen in his office. "We ran a worldwide artificial intelligence genetic search algorithm for the van. This is the best match so far."
He keyed a sequence of satellite images and circled the rough outline of a van parked in the midsection of a small village surrounded by jungle. He zoomed in and said, "It looks like it could be one of ours, but one whole side appears to be missing–must have been in an accident. Wait! Take a look at the other side. That's our SDL insignia clear as day. Reverend, I think that we have found them.”
"Good work! Where are they?"
"The village is in Central Nicaragua. It's called Rio Del Campo."
“What’s that along the river?"
"It is kind of hard to tell. It’s pretty overgrown, but it might be an airstrip. It doesn’t look like it gets much traffic. Look there is a hangar and two people standing next to it. I wonder if they are the ones we are looking for. I'll zoom in– bingo! The man is Torch Sanders; I am not sure who the blond girl is unless Dr. Sturtevant bleached her hair."
"Send in a couple of our choppers. Tell them to find the Ark, but whatever they do not to harm it. Use force if necessary. Meanwhile set up satellite surveillance on the van and the hanger. How long will it take to get the choppers on target?”
"I will check with our International Operations Manager, but I would say it will take at least a day for them to get there. We just don't have many resources to call upon in that part of the world."
"Okay, tell them to expedite and keep me posted."
"Yes, sir."
******
Over morning tortillas Astra had apologized for her prior behavior and presented Torch with a box of cigars that she had purchased at the local market. “Melinda told me that you gave her very valuable gems to pay for our trip. I am so grateful. Somehow I will pay you back.”
Torch lit one of the cigars and said, “No problem. This is nice. Thank you, but we had better get a move on. Lot’s to do today.”
After Astra had inspected and then activated the new CryoVat, she and Juanita spent the afternoon marking, cataloging and inserting plastic micro holders into the Ark. Each of the holders contained microscopic beads of the embryos and cell tissue and blood samples that had been stored in freezers in the backroom of the bar. They embraced when they finished. Juanita beamed, "I am so happy to get these into your hands, it took my friends and I many months to collect them."
Astra handed her a VIDAS t-shirt. “Muchas gracias por su ayuda.”
Meanwhile In the hangar, one of Melinda's friends fixed the Lear Jet's flat tire while Torch swept out the interior.
Torch held up a jar filled with baby rats, "I'm beginning to wonder if this is such a good idea."
The volunteer shrugged, "I have seen this plane fly, but it was many years ago. Vaya con Dios, amigo."
Their timing was good. Just after they had pulled the plane out of the hangar onto the runway, Melinda arrived with the fuel truck. A few minutes later Astra and Juanita showed up, pulling the Ark on a dolly which they strapped down in the plane's cargo section.
After charging the ship's batteries and filling its fuel tanks, they headed back to the bar where Melinda coached Juanita on how to run the place while she was away. After dinner, Astra tried to teach Torch some samba dance steps, but had to give up in order to protect her toes from being crushed.
As the sun set in a blaze of glory, they walked to the motel next door hand in hand. When Torch tried to follow her into her room, she turned and said, "We need to rest; tomorrow will be a big day. Goodnight, Torch." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and closed the door.
Torch went back to the bar for a nightcap. Melinda sat next to him, "You two seem to be getting along better."
"To be totally honest, I have no idea at all what Astra is thinking. All I know is that she is both beautiful and very smart–plus she seems determined to save the world! See you tomorrow."
******
The sun rose to an orchestra of exotic bird calls that was rudely interrupted by Melinda
's urgent pounding on Torch’s door. She yelled, "I just got a call, two SDL helicopters are heading our way. They'll be here in minutes. We need to leave now!"
Sprinting to the plane, they quickly boarded while Melinda began firing up the engines. The left one refused to start but she got the ship rolling while jabbing at the start button for the balking engine. Flashes of gunfire erupted from the canons in the lead chopper stitching plumes of dust in the taxiway.
Just as Melinda turned onto the runway, the stalled engine came to life and she shoved the throttles forward to the stops. The copter racing from behind spewed a stream of bullets from its machine guns, some of which grazed the wing but didn't seem to cause serious damage. Soon they were out of range, moving too fast to pursue. Melinda pulled back the yoke and climbed to cruising altitude where they were quickly enveloped in a thick layer of rain clouds.
******
The SDL tech and Reverend LeRoque watched the vidscreen, which showed the jet disappearing into a heavy bank of cloud cover. The chopper pilot radioed home, "Sorry Reverend, we were too late; they just took off heading south. They are way too fast for us to pursue."
The tech switched to a satellite weather feed. "This front is huge; it looks like it extends for five to six hundred miles. No way can we track them in that soup."
Reverend LeRoque slammed his fist on the desk, "Find them. You did it before; do it again."
"I'll keep trying, sir.”
-- CHAPTER 20 --
Deep Space Mining, Inc.
Moonbase
A tall, thin European looking, blond-haired man stood by the door and welcomed the last of the arrivals to his personal quarters. He checked his watch, secured the lock and turned to the small gathering of technicians, mechanics and office workers–each of whom had slipped on SDL armbands as they had entered.
The host greeted the group. "Welcome to our weekly CREOS meeting. For you newcomers, I'm Jason Phillips. I work for the SpeeZee's company security department–at least that is what they are supposed to think. But my real job is to keep track of what's going on up here for the SDL.”
A cute girl raised her hand, "Isn’t the SpeeZees Lab where that weird animal came from?"
"Right, you are correct. I have been pulling late shift duty for the last couple of weeks and I did have several encounters with that terrible monster–in fact I am the person that set it free."
One of the group asked, "Why in the world would you do that? Isn't it dangerous? What were you thinking?"
"I thought it would horrify the moonbase residents if they knew about what kind of twisted experiments were actually taking place up here. Hopefully they would demand that the lab be shut down."
Another CREOS interjected, "But, it seemed pretty tame and harmless."
"Unfortunately, you're right. A lot of our fellow residents seem to love the cursed thing. The reason I called this meeting is to figure out what to do next."
From the back, a voice asked, "How about if we burn the lab?"
Another warned, "No way, the oxygen level here is so high that a fire would fry us all.”
Phillips checked his watch. Another reason I called you here is SDL Reverend LeRoque is doing a special program tonight. I think we should watch it in the lounge. That way we can keep an eye out for new recruits." As the CREOS filed out, they removed and stashed their armbands.
The Luna Lounge was packed. When the title screen ‘SDL Ark Special' filled the big vidscreen behind the bar, Genie cut the music and dimmed the lights. The camera panned capturing the immense size of the SDL church auditorium, which was solidly packed with men, women and children of diverse races, ages and backgrounds. The screen caption stated:
Seekers of Divine Light Church Headquarters
Atlanta, Georgia
Reverend LeRoque stood with outstretched arms on a lift that rose dramatically from beneath the stage to a position behind the pulpit. His grand entrance was accompanied by a moving hymn from the choral group while the Reverend’s image was majestically displayed on a huge vidscreen that spanned the back of the stage. The well choreographed effect made it seem like the Reverend was magically rising upwards toward the heavens and received an enthusiastic standing ovation from the audience of devout CREOS.
At first the applause drowned out the words that the Reverend was saying, but as he moved his outstretched arms downward, the cheering slowly died down. Softly, almost in a whisper, he began to speak and the words appeared in giant letters on the vidscreen.
'God is the only GENE MASTER!'
Then a little louder.
'God is the only GENE MASTER!'
Then even louder still as the audience enthusiastically joined in.
'GOD IS THE ONE AND ONLY GENE MASTER!'
The Reverend motioned for the CREOS to be seated. "Good evening. I am here to talk about blasphemy. I am here to talk about the Ark. But first I must confess to a sin of my own. Then you'll understand why the Ark is such an affront to the Lord's plan."
The audience echoed, "Lord's plan."
“I started out as the minister of a church in a small town not far from here. I often took my beautiful wife and kids fishing and hiking to get closer to God. I was truly blessed. Praise the Lord."
The audience responded, "Praise the Lord," which was spelled out on the vidscreen.
"Then one dreadful day my wife got sick–very sick. She had developed a crippling disease. The doctor's said it was genetic-based and she had less than a year to live. So I prayed to the Lord for help. Hear me Lord."
Several women in the audience began sobbing and repeated. “Hear him Lord."
"I became a sinner. I loved my God, but I loved my wife more."
He pointed to the vidscreen which showed a still photograph of a storefront in a vintage era shopping mall which had actual stores selling goods and services the old fashioned way.
"I took her to this gene clinic in the State of Mexico and begged Dr. Heinz to save her life. Forgive me Lord."
“Forgive him Lord."
"The gener did save my wife, but at a terrible cost. I want you to meet her now. Her name is ‘Rose LeRoque’. Rosie, please rise."
The orchestra played a dramatic musical score that built in tension as Rose, wearing a black veil, leaning on a cane and grimacing, struggled to stand. She took a moment to steady herself. The music faded.
"Rosie my dear, please show them the evil gener's work. Lord help you."
Just as the music died, she slowly lifted her veil revealing a hideously distorted face with cleft nose and a disgusting, bloodshot eye positioned directly in the middle of her forehead. A close-up of her face filled the vidscreen as tears flooded from her remaining eye.
The audience gasped, then chanted, "Lord help her." A few men vomited and several women fainted. Rose covered her tear-stained face and took her seat.
On the vidscreen, a video clip played showing a man stumbling at the entrance to the gene clinic. His clothes were burning furiously.
"You see here that not long after the gener Heinz butchered my wife, he faced retribution. God sent a holy fire to cleanse the Earth of his vile clinic and sent the gener to burn eternally in hell. He will never again prey upon innocent victims."
He began to chant...
'GOD IS THE ONLY GENE MASTER!'
The camera zoomed in for a close-up of Rose’s veiled face as she watched the burning man on the vidscreen. She silently mouthed the words as the audience chanted:
'GOD IS THE ONLY GENE MASTER!'
'GOD IS THE ONLY GENE MASTER!'
The Reverend gestured for quiet. "Geners are not to be trusted. They say that they want to make trees that bear bigger oranges and sheep with thicker coats. But we all know that one thing leads to another. They'll never leave the human genetic code alone. You can see for yourself–just look at Rosie."
A sequence of before and after pictures appeared on the vidscreen comparing her once beautiful face to the horrid way she appeared today. This was followed b
y a sickening series of photographs of mutated animals and humans that elicited moans and screams that were amplified by the sound system and reverberated throughout the church.
The Reverend said, “Now I would like to move to the reason I called you here–the blasphemous Ark.”
The vidscreen cut to a video clip of a couple transferring bags of vials into an ice chest with tendrils of vapor escaping from the top.
“Here we see the VIDAS collecting specimens from the Pyrenees in the South of France. They claim that they will store them for the future. But I promise you that this so called 'Ark' will undoubtedly be used for genetic manipulation. The VIDAS may claim that it is merely a sanctuary for the future, but the geners will use it as a tool to create new organisms and a race of super-humans that will wipe us off this planet."
The church members rose to their feet shouting and waving their arms. "I know the Lord wants his children to remain just as they are now. Some have performed their duty on this Earth and will disappear. But that's His decision and His alone."
'His Decision...His Alone'
The Reverend put on an insulated glove and reached behind the pulpit. His hand emerged holding a steaming flask which he raised high over his head. "These are embryos confiscated by our CREOS. And here is what the Lord told me to do with them."
Timed with a crescendo from the orchestra, he slowly poured the contents of the flask onto the stage, which sizzled and snapped in a blizzard of vapor. He screamed, "This is what God wants. No geners...no Ark. God is the only Gene Master!"