by JB Penrose
“I can stop them. Those sons-of-bitches were all the time talking about sharing everything with the world and really only wanted to keep it all for themselves.” Morrow lit a cigarette in spite of the No Smoking policy, passed it to the sitting President before he lit another for himself.
President Wilson sat back in his chair. “With Nathan Young dead there is nothing to hold Reider to his promises. Who could believe now that they will send any information about that DayStar. If we don’t bring him back the world could go to the edge of war over this promise of technology.”
“It’s not our technology until John Reider has launched,” one attorney interjected. He fumbled through his briefcase for the proof but President Wilson stayed his search with a wave.
“If the Aurora has already launched another court order won’t bring it back.” Scott Cauthron had to play his cards right, he wasn’t President yet.
Morrow exhaled slowly. “I have confirmation the ship is still at PROBE-Tech, sir, but the courts won’t grant me access to enter the grounds. Surely you can see the importance of stopping the Aurora’s launch.”
“They don’t need your authorization to launch.” The Attorney General held a fist of papers as proof.
“John Reider owns that spaceship and the technology it uses. If he chooses to launch it without your permission then you can’t stop him.”
“I can try,” Morrow sneered with contempt. “That’s more than you would do. John Reider is evading an order from the White House to answer questions. So is Andrew Pierzon,” he replied simply. “They have first-hand information about a terrorist bombing.”
“They do not!” argued the President-elect. He began to see the outcome of this meeting had been predetermined before the meeting started. “They weren’t even in the building when it happened!”
Even better, Morrow thought. “Don’t you think we should ask about that as well?” He snuffed his cigarette on the sole of his boot and tossed the butt into a planter.
“This investigation should continue with assistance from all branches. The BGA is not in control here,” the FBI director threatened.
“I won’t sit around in here and do nothing!”
“He did promise to make a full report to me,” President Wilson complained. “And he promised a lot of things to a lot of other people. I’d hate to see this get out of hand when they discovered he’s launched without so much as a by-your-leave.”
“If John Reider had to ask for your leave he’d never be able to launch. I see exactly why John would choose to depart in this manner, and I, for one, will do nothing about it.” The new President-elect rapped his knuckles on the desktop. “He has more than fulfilled his promises. The world asked for this launch, and we have no other way to gain information about this Light in the sky.”
“While I’m still in office, however, I will do all I can to get to the bottom of this bombing.” President Wilson nodded toward Morrow with anticipation. “The American people expect no less than that. Hell, neither does the rest of the world. Reider obviously knows more than he’s let on and I’d like to get to the bottom of this. Frank, you said you had a plan?”
“Yes sir!” Morrow placed himself squarely at the desk, his back to the others in the room.
“I don’t care how you do it,” Wilson said. “I want you to stop that launch and bring John Reider to me. You will have what you need at your disposal. I want regular updates. And I want you to handle this personally.”
“I’m already on it,” Morrow assured him. His crisp turn was as fast as the change from smile to smirk on his face. He walked through the room as though no one else was there and shut the door between himself and the heated arguments building inside.
* * *
“I guess we can’t ignore everyone’s phone call.”
“I don’t see why not,” Andrew shrugged as he started up the car. “We’ve done a good job so far.”
They had flown against the clocks since leaving New Jerusalem that morning. It was almost midnight; John checked the caller ID screen as soon as they were in the car. Messages from the media were automatically deleted, and other numbers were arranged according to predetermined priorities. John selected Scott Cauthron’s message.
“Let’s see what the vice president-elect has to say.”
“He would be president-elect now,” Andrew reminded him.
“John, I don’t know where you’ll be when you get this message. Hell, I don’t know where I’ll be, either. Damn shame what happened. I’m glad you’re all right though. Andrew, too.
“I thought you should know Frank Morrow has scheduled a meeting with President Wilson this morning. Word has it, he has evidence you’re responsible for the bombing. I know it’s preposterous, John, and I intend to tell them so. But I think they’d rather hear it from you.
“Well, ‘just thought I’d touch base. I’ll be flying to the conference in Nathan’s place after the meeting with Wilson. I don’t know when we’ll see each other again but I want you to know that I support all that you and Nathan have worked for. Good luck to both of us.”
“I told President Wilson I’d give him a full report when we arrived,” John admitted with a shrug.
“Were you actually planning to give him a full report?”
“No, but I didn’t think he knew that. I just want to get out of here. It’s a shame Wilson listens to Morrow.”
“Why don’t you call Donnally and see what’s been going on.”
John activated the car phone and auto-dialed the number. The screen flickered.
“John? Glad to see you made it safely.”
“We just landed and already the rumors are flying.”
“So you’ve heard? Morrow is trying to get a warrant for entry to PROBE-Tech right now. They’re accusing you of breech-of-promise. If the conference doesn’t happen they won’t get the technology for free like you promised. Morrow’s rumor is that you want to sell the technology and that’s why you planted the bomb to stop the conference.”
“Naturally,” John laughed. “Any other problems?”
“Nothing that launching won’t cure. Hope you’re ready.”
“We’re almost there. Go ahead and secure the perimeter.”
The lighting for each building was standard and nondescript and the tram service was discretely re-routed away from the hanger. Andrew parked the Pisces and they went inside without detection. Donnally greeted them outside with a familiar hug.
“Where’s Peter?” Andrew wondered. “It’s just like him to be late.”
“I thought you knew,” Donnally told him. “He called me to arrange for a PROBE-Tech jet. He said to pick him up at the Immortal Valley with Mother and Father James.”
Andrew only shook his head and followed them inside the hangar. “Let’s get going then. I don’t like these last minute changes.”
Inside the ship, John and Andrew changed into their flightwear and returned to a routine they’d never really forgotten.
“I’ve finished setting the chronometer.” Andrew crawled out from under a console just as John pushed away from his bench. “Everything’s in sync.”
“Commander?” Donnally’s voice crackled through the speakers at each console. “Charlie says they’re holding several BGA agents at the entrance. They say Morrow is coming with a warrant authorized by President Wilson.”
“Can the President even do that?” John asked.
“At this point of his term, he’ll do anything.”
Donnally’s image in the underground control room was projected on the theater-sized screen on the ship’s command bridge. He waved from the console he monitored and finished a program sequence.
“They’ll have to catch us first,” John said under his breath. “Donnally,” John channeled his voice into the control room. “This could really complicate your life after we’re gone.”
“You need someone to watch your back.” Donnally adjusted the levels on a control module. “Don’t worry about me,” he t
old them. “Just launch while you can. I can handle the crap when you’re gone.”
“You’re a good man, Donnally. I’m glad you’re on our side.”
“We’ve been together a long time. I’d hate to see this project scrambled just because someone is afraid that you really might succeed. It’s been too much work to lose it all now, and I want to see what this baby can do!”
John gave an informal salute to the screen’s image. “It’s time.”
“I’m ready,” Andrew echoed his agreement.
“Okay then, let’s do it!” John snapped up the headset and made his last communication. “Donnally! This is it. Clear the area.”
Donnally programmed the sequence that lowered the walls of the hangar and exposed the Aurora to a cloudless morning sky.
“Everything is secure,” Donnally confirmed. “Smooth sailing, Commander, and may God be with you.”
John added his own Amen. The excitement heightened as the large reflective window in the forward hatch became a computer screen that showed the Aurora’s takeoff in real time.
“Three... Two... One...” Andrew counted. “Lift from pad... Grav-pipe enabled.”
They cheered with exhilaration as the liftoff deepened into a smooth rush into the sky. The force gently held their bodies down as their chairs rocked into compensating positions.
“Clear of hanger,” Donnally announced. “Grav-pipe stable.”
“All systems go,” John confirmed.
“Aurora!” Frank Morrow’s voice broke through on their headsets. “Come in, Aurora!” No one answered his demand.
“How’d he get there so fast?” Andrew wondered.
“John Reider!” The speaker crackled with his intensity. “You are not, I repeat: NOT cleared for takeoff! Aurora!”
“Oh, yes we are.” John laughed with Andrew. “Engage thrusters, level two. Let’s show them what we’ve got.”
“We’d better stay low for a bit,” Andrew reminded him. “Too much altitude and we’ll need FAA clearance. Already, I’ll bet Morrow has declared us a UFO.”
“Or worse.”
“John?” It was Donnally’s voice. “They said I’m supposed to order you to return to base.” It didn’t hold any conviction.
“You’ll be sorry, Reider.” Morrow’s voice overran Donnally’s on the intercom. “You’d better head that ship back here, A-SAP, or I’ll have every PT7 you’ve ever built on your ass! I repeat, abort this launch!”
“Well! If that’s the way they want to play,” Andrew scoffed at Morrow’s threat. “Set the fastest course to water. We can bounce our image on the water’s surface enough to throw off the PT7 radar. It may feel like hide-and-seek, but this baby still has a few tricks up her sleeve.”
“Now is the time to pull one out,” John checked his monitor. “Looks like they’ve launched seekers. The first two are on us, trailing: Mark 2 3 2-cross-1 6 B.”
“Trust me,” Andrew told him, cooly. With the touch of a control he centered the forward screen on the missile’s approach and activated a program.
“I hope we won’t have to outrun every missile from here to the Immortal Valley,” John said. “This could be a boring game.”
“Target time. Defense activated.” Andrew confirmed.
Andrew fired two lasers, one red, one blue, each aimed for a missile they could see on the forward screen, but there was no explosion. Andrew sat back, smug, and waited. The missiles altered course and within moments, collided into each other. The explosion splashed vibrantly across the screen. “Well, that’s one secret out of the bag,” he complained.
“How’d you do that?” John asked.
“Basically, I beamed a positive charge to one missile and a negative to the other. You know -- opposites attract. I’m sorry I had to use it so soon, though.”
“We’ll be sitting ducks if we don’t get out of here,” John reminded him.
“Aurora,” Andrew commanded. “Original course.”
* * *
Gail had been sifting through the news all morning. Fortunately, the blast had been localized and the conference was scheduled to restart the day after tomorrow at a location in Rome. The fact it had been targeted to John Reider and Andrew Pierzon only increased her suspicion of Frank’s involvement.
The computer screens at her desk flashed with text and images, everything connected to the bombing, from every source around the world. She highlighted items to indicate common factors and copied them into different programs sequencing on another set of screens. It would take a while to sift through everything, even on her system. She jumped involuntarily when Frank entered the office.
Frank Morrow worked to instill fear in his associates, and this morning she had reason to fear him – he was now a murderer. She couldn’t look at him, but Gail sorted together some common information on the bombing and offered the printouts. “Here’s what I’ve found so far,” she said.
He took it from her without comment and barely leafed through the paperwork before letting it fall to her desktop.
“Take a lunch – a long one,” he instructed.
He stood at her desk, waiting, or expecting her to move on his command. She tried to control her nerves by reminding herself that Frank was a criminal who would get what he deserved, but the thought only added to her trembling. Gail pulled her purse from the drawer and grabbed her coat from the hook on the way out the door, but she didn’t have much of an appetite for lunch.
From his office window Frank searched the city skyline, not that he expected to see any visible clues to the Aurora’s flight. He snuffed his cigarette in the smokeless ashtray and pushed a path through the butts until the phone connection was made.
Finally, he heard Iscar’s greeting. “Why are you calling?”
Iscar was an independent operative who helped Frank by providing the detailed information which foiled the kidnapping attempt of President Wilson’s son, a mission that led to his appointment as BGA Director. The promotion had created a few new enemies, but Frank Morrow wasn’t trying to make friends. Jude Iscar promised him a key position in his own plan for power and Iscar’s plan was global. This was the company Frank was destined to keep.
“What have you been doing? I’ve been calling since yesterday.”
“I am preparing for the next phase,” Iscar told him. “What do you want?”
“Then you haven’t heard?” Frank lit another cigarette. “You didn’t get Reider, you killed the President-elect and his wife. It’s an international disaster. You said you would take care of this yourself.”
“I did this myself,” Iscar bristled. “How many times have I said Reider couldn’t be killed. The Young’s were an unfortunate casualty. Did the Aurora launch ahead of schedule?”
“You knew that?”
“I’ve always known Reider to be extraordinarily predictable,” Iscar laughed. “They left some baggage in the Immortal Valley, but they’ll be gone after that.”
“President Wilson wants the ship stopped,” Morrow lied. “At all costs.”
“It will cost you more,” Iscar warned, “if you don’t let the ship go. After they’re gone I will set our plans into motion. Be patient and wait for my call.”
“Yeah, I’ll be waiting.” Morrow hung up the phone, and then lifted the receiver to make another call. “Major Brown. I need an MS-9 fueled immediately for the Immortal Valley. What? I’ve got all the clearance I need to fly there! Get it ready,” he shouted at the Major and slammed the receiver into the cradle.
Gail’s time at the library didn’t provide any new details, and she was anxious to return to her own system. Hopefully, Frank was already gone and she could continue her search for the truth.
Gail wasn’t hungry, but she grabbed a sandwich and coffee at the deli on the ground floor of the government building where she worked. Her timing was perfect; just as she paid for her purchase she saw Frank headed to the parking lot. He pushed open the exit doors with an aggravation that nearly took the door from its hinges.
Gail hoped he’d take the rest of the afternoon off. Quickly, she made it back to her office.
There was a program Frank had secretly installed on her computer; any file she opened was copied to a folder on his system. She was pretty sure that Frank didn’t know she knew about it, so Gail simply worked backward through her system to break into his database.
It was just a theory. She hadn’t tried it before, but she was reasonably sure he wouldn’t trace the activity on his own line, at least, she hoped so. What she was looking for was dangerous information.
The most recent folder opened on his computer was marked “Ruby”. Gail worked through the default openings. It seemed an eternity as the cover screens rushed by and then stopped. The file was from PROBE-Tech!
After an hour of hacking away on her computer the only file she was able to open was the gate entry log, and only then because it had already been opened by one of Frank’s signature commands. Names surfaced on her computer screen. The list included security and embassy staff, research technicians and administration, maintenance crews and building engineers. PROBE-Tech was the size of a small city and the record of coming-and-goings of a city provided a long list of names. She re-prioritized them to those with the most frequent visits.
John Reider. Andrew Pierzon.
The names surfaced at the top of her computer screen. It wasn’t a surprise to see them with the most activity; it was only natural for the Aurora’s commander, and the pilot, to have the most frequent visits. Maybe the subject should be security clearance.
The reclassification still identified Reider and Pierzon at the top of the list with a clearance she could only identify as complete access. A few other names also showed the same level of security, Donnally Tompkins, Peter Kerroon, and Rachel Bolton. Two other names held the same priority clearance as the crew but had never entered the PROBE-Tech grounds, James Zebede and Mary Mag’Dalyn. The biblical reference must be some kind of humor, she assumed.