Conner had no family to speak of and Crossway apparently had the same problem. When Conner returned to the rec room at 10:45, Crossway was seated in the corner with a book in her lap. She glanced up at him for only a second, then returned her attention to her book. He walked toward the corner and took a seat on the nearby couch.
“No husband or children to see you off?” he asked.
She glanced up at him, then shook her head. He noticed just then that his belief in her athletic build was correct. She was wearing a tank top now and he could see some nicely defined biceps and forearms. He was ashamed to admit that now he was wondering if his question had been a little too presumptuous of her heterosexuality.
“No significant others to see you off?” he asked.
She shook her head again, then set her book down on the arm of the chair.
“What’s your excuse, Steele?” she asked almost defensively, “Short hair, square jaw, a strong brow above some beautiful blue eyes. Does everyone who can get married get married?”
He stared at her, unsure what she was getting at. Her expression was unreadable.
“I’m sorry if I offended you. I was just wondering why you were alone,” he said.
“Does being alone hurt?” she asked.
“I thought you were a biologist,” he said, leaning back, “Not a psychologist.”
“No, I was asking you, Steele. Does it hurt to be alone? Why were you concerned just now about my loneliness?”
“Look, I’m sorry. I was just trying to be polite and strike up some conversation.”
“So am I, Steele,” she said, “I truly want to know – does being alone hurt?”
He situated himself into the corner of the sofa, then drew his aching legs up beside him. He pondered her question for a moment, then released the breath he realized he’d been holding in.
“Yes it does, Dr. Crossway,” he replied rather bitterly, “If I had someone to come home to every night – someone to love and someone who loved me in return – then you’re darn right I would. How about you?”
She nodded, then rested her chin in her hand as she looked at him.
“Yes, I agree a hundred percent. I just wanted to hear someone else say it first,” she said, “Now to answer the question you seemed to be headed toward, I’m a forty-seven year old mother of two grown boys. Both have their own lives now – one is married and the other is in jail for drunk driving. How’s that for you?”
“Sounds pretty intense. Must have been hard for a single mom. I’ve never been married myself, unless you want to count the SEAL Teams. Always been the type to marry my job,” Conner said, “No children either. I just turned forty last Tuesday. All I got for my birthday was a few punches in the face followed by a punch in the gut.”
She laughed, then covered her mouth.
“Sorry, that wasn’t funny. It’s just the way you said it as though it were nothing major,” she said, “I wasn’t a single mom the whole time. I was married for almost seven years. I was as much to blame for the divorce as he was.”
“Wow, a woman who doesn’t instantly blame the man,” he grinned, “Though I’ll grant you that it’s usually the man’s fault anyway.”
“Well, that’s why I prefer my men now to stay between the pages,” she said, lifting the book so he could see the cover.
The shirtless, longhaired man on the cover was holding a woman who was just a summer breeze away from falling out of her renaissance era dress. The title of the book was simply “Deadly Affair.” He laughed and shook his head.
“Hey, these guys will never let me down and they’re always hot,” she said, “Yeah, it’s romantic smut, but I’ll take it.”
“I completely understand, Doctor. No judgment here,” he replied with a smile.
“What about you, Steele? Where do you go to search for that perfect woman?” she asked.
“I don’t, believe it or not,” he said, looking down at the arm of the couch, “I stopped looking about four years ago. A heart can only take so much breaking before it can’t be repaired anymore.”
“Who was-”
“No, I really don’t want to talk about that,” he said, holding up a hand to stop her, “Truly, she stays in the past or I’ll just hurt again.”
She nodded, then looked down at her book.
“You can’t let someone ruin you for the rest of the women out there,” she said, “Otherwise she has all the power in the world over you.”
“She does, Doctor. I gave her all the power when I told her that I loved her. She still had that power when she died.”
“Oh…” she said, covering her mouth again, “I’m sorry.”
“Like I said, I try to not remember. It’s easier for me that way,” he said, glancing at his watch, “Well, I think I’d better head for bed because I’m about to shoot some aliens tomorrow. I need a clear head for that.”
“I’m really sorry, Steele,” she said.
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, Doctor. Like it or not, she is still there and she can appear in a moment’s notice. It’s her way of reprimanding me for trying to forget,” he said.
He rose from his seat and headed toward the hallway. This would be one of those nights that he’d have to bury his head beneath the pillow to get some sleep.
Eight
Conner stood straight with his arms out as though crucified while they continued to tighten up his spacesuit. He tried to shut out the sounds coming from below where a woman was adding a substantial amount of white duct tape around the connection between his suit and his boots. He would do just fine to never hear the sound of duct tape ever again.
“You can put your arms down, Steele,” the man behind him spoke, “We’ve got you suited up nice and airtight.”
“Sorry about the duct tape, Sergeant,” the General said, “I know why you were cringing a moment ago. We’d put it around all your connections if we were certain you wouldn’t be unhooking them before you returned – hence the tape on your boots. You’ll want your hands free at some time, so we won’t tape along there or near your helmet.”
“Thank you, sir,” Conner said, accepting his helmet from General Keith.
“I’d like a word with you in private, Sergeant,” he whispered as he handed the helmet and the gloves to him.
Conner glanced over toward the others who were also being assisted into their spacesuits. No one seemed to overhear what the General had whispered to him. The General placed a hand on his shoulder and led him to the corner of the room away from the others.
“What I’m about to tell you is for you and you alone,” he whispered, “Do you understand me, Sergeant Steele?”
“Yes, sir,” Conner said.
General Keith handed Conner what appeared to be a blank white credit card with a lanyard attachment punched through it. Conner looked at it curiously, then glanced up at the General.
“It’s a key and I want you to attach it somewhere on your suit or perhaps in one of your pockets. It’s got a magnetic stripe so you can swipe it just like a credit card. If it becomes necessary to annihilate whatever is up there, you will have two nuclear warheads at your disposal. You can’t trigger these however unless one of the two pilots also swipe their key. In other words, there has to be two in agreement here,” the General stated.
“Who are the pilots and how will I find the warheads? Heck, how do I set them and where do I place them?”
“The pilots are Lieutenant Colonel Dominic Santini and Major Daniel Roush – both very trusted Air Force officers. They will know what to do when the time comes. Their keys will not work without yours and vice versa. If this all goes south, return to the shuttle and convince a pilot to swipe his key.”
“Yes, sir,” Conner said, shoving the key into one of his Velcro pockets.
“Good man,” he said, “Do you feel you have enough ammunition for your P90?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve got three extra clips besides the one I already have loaded into the weapon. If I end up ne
eding more than that, I think we’ll be retreating anyway.”
“True,” the General laughed and led him back to the others, “This is it, people. I think it’s time to get BP1 ready for launch.”
. . . .
The launch went much smoother than Conner had expected. He’d been launched in a jet from an aircraft carrier before and that had been a harsher experience than being launched into orbit.
The shuttle shook for what felt like ten minutes, as they shot upward with enough boost necessary to escape the gravity of the Earth. Conner looked over at Dawn Crossway who was strapped into the seat next to him. She too had decided to have her helmet on during the launch even though it wasn’t necessary. She turned to him and smiled.
“Yes I’m getting a little scared,” she said, her voice hollow and muffled, “Is that what you were about to ask?”
“No, but now that you mention it, I think I’ve got a few butterflies fluttering around in my own stomach,” he replied.
“Hey, no getting scared!” McKenzie hollered from the seat in front of Conner.
“I take it you’ve never seen the movie ‘Alien’, Doctor McKenzie,” Conner said.
“I’ll thank you not to mention that movie,” Roberts added.
“What about E.T.?” Lentz asked.
“Aw, I don’t think I could shoot E.T.,” Roberts stated.
The conversation continued along these same lines for the next half hour as the shuttle released its boosters and the pilots maneuvered the shuttle toward the ship. The BP1 crew had to rely on the pilots for any visuals since there were no windows back in the passenger section of the craft.
“It’s enormous and ugly, just like the photos we’ve seen,” Major Roush stated over the intercom, “Wow, but even the photos can’t do justice to the sheer enormity. This monster’s gotta be a half-mile tall.”
“Uh, Steele, I don’t think those were butterflies you were feeling in your stomach earlier,” Crossway said.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“It feels like my organs are floating around inside of me,” she said.
“That’s because they are, Doctor Crossway,” McKenzie said, “And if you weren’t strapped to your chair, you’d be floating around also.”
It was an odd feeling, but Conner didn’t feel nauseated in any way.
“I need everyone to switch on your ComLinks right now,” Colonel Santini called over the intercom, “The shuttle is stationary right now and you’re free to move to the payload bay and prepare for departure.”
They all flipped the switches on the side of their helmets, permitting communication between all of them. All their conversations from this point could be heard in Cape Canaveral as well as in Houston. If CNN had finally got their way, it was probably being televised across the world right now as well. Conner and McKenzie were equipped with helmet cameras that were also transmitting everything they saw.
“Let’s go, BP1 crew,” McKenzie said as he released his seat harness, “Remember what you learned about weightless momentum.”
McKenzie floated up, then twisted himself around to face the rear of the shuttle. He pushed himself toward the rear hatch that would lead to the payload bay. The others followed his lead, making efforts to move slower than necessary out of caution. Using the handrails in the ceiling or along the walls, they all made their ways into the bay without incident.
McKenzie handed out the MAC-11s, which the crew secured into their holsters. He offered Conner his P90, then proceeded to pass out their individual supply bags which was different for each person depending on their duties. Conner’s tool kit would have probably weighed upwards of a hundred and twenty pounds if he didn’t have the benefits of weightlessness. He secured the bag around himself with the strap after holstering his P90. He then took the cutting torch off the wall brace and nodded to McKenzie.
“I’m ready when you are,” Conner said.
“No you’re not, Steele,” McKenzie said, “You didn’t hook on your lifeline.”
“Oh Lord,” Conner said, realizing indeed that all the others had their lifelines attached and that he’d forgotten.
Lentz snapped the lifeline to Conner.
“Thank you, Doctor,” he said.
Lentz simply nodded. McKenzie pulled a lever down, opening the bay doors above them. They were now literally in outer space. Once the bay doors were completely opened, they were able to see the giant dark grey wall of steel rising up next to the shuttle.
“Dear Lord!” Crossway said.
The wall seemed to rise up forever. It was then that Conner realized they were looking at the immense length of the spaceship. The shuttle’s position had confused him initially, but once he got his bearings and realized that the shuttle’s nose was pointed down at the Earth, he could see the ship for what it was.
“I don’t even want to imagine the implications behind such an enormous thing,” Roberts said.
“You’re up, Steele. As the crew’s engineer, I’ll be coming with you,” Lentz said.
Conner nodded, then released his hold on the ship. He pushed his way up and away from the bay doors, lightly launching himself toward a ridge on the side of the alien ship.
“Right behind you, Steele,” Lentz said.
“I just hope I can stop myself when I reach that lip up ahead,” Conner said.
He bumped lightly against the side of the ship and managed to grab a hold of the three-inch by three-inch protruding ridge that appeared to encircle the ship. Lentz bumped into him and also took a hold of the lip. Once their momentum had been stopped, they had no need to keep a hold of the ship any longer.
Conner took a moment to examine the length of the ship. Ridges like the one he used to stop his momentum existed about every fifty yards down the length of the ship. He assumed that maybe the ship was created in segments and the ridges marked where they had covered up the seams. More than a mile from his location, the side of the ship gradually bowed outward until it formed something of a round edge at the tail end of the ship. Looking at the ship from the front as it headed toward you, it could have easily resembled the oval with ears as was originally reported by Thomas Redding when he first discovered it. The thing he now realized however was that it wasn’t as much an oval as it was a rectangle with somewhat rounded edges.
“What are you thinking, Steele?” Lentz asked, rubbing his hand along the smooth surface of the ship.
“Just trying to imagine how they made this. There are no weld marks or rivets as far as I can tell,” he replied, “Rivets or welds would definitely make my job much easier.”
Conner reached into his bag and took out a small yellow device with an LCD display. He placed it on the ship and pressed the red button at the center. The readout suddenly came back with the numbers “13.32.” Conner laughed.
“What’s up?” Lentz asked.
He placed it a little to the left and pressed the button again. It came back with the exact same reading. He moved upward about two feet, then placed it against the ship. He received the same reading yet again.
“We are going to need to locate a different entrance spot. This bulkhead is over a foot thick,” he said.
“But this is your specialty. You don’t have any tricks up your sleeve for something that thick?” Lentz asked, “I don’t mean to make light of it, but I think we all knew we’d be dealing something substantial when it came to the outer hull.”
“Something substantial would be six or eight inches and yes, I could get through it with no problem. Heck, give me a ten-inch bulkhead with rivets or welds and I could blast my way in,” Conner stated, “I’m not getting through thirteen inches of solid steel.”
“What are you suggesting then, Steele?” McKenzie’s voice came through his earpiece.
He looked down the length of the ship, then glanced upward along the arc of the wall beside him.
“What about those vents we were told about? Preferably the CO2 vent,” Conner replied, “It’s doubtful that the walls
inside a vent would be as sturdy as the outer hull.”
“That’s assuming we can even get inside the vent,” McKenzie replied.
“We’re getting into this ship, Doctor. Even if we have to tunnel through the exhaust cones at the rear of the ship,” Conner replied.
“I doubt this ship has exhaust cones if it’s built to traverse the distance between the stars,” McKenzie said with a chuckle, “Come on back, you two, and we’ll have the shuttle take us to the CO2 vent,” McKenzie stated.
Nine
The pilots maneuvered the shuttle around the giant ship, cautiously skimming across its nearly smooth surface as they made their way to the top. They navigated down its length almost a hundred yards until they located the vent. The pilots took advantage of the fact that there was no conventional “up or down” in outer space and spun the shuttle around so the payload bay doors would open up to the vent. This gave the BP1 crew a false sense that they were beneath the ship, attempting to gain access from the bottom. In truth however, the shuttle was technically upside down in a stationary orbit directly above the alien ship.
“I can’t be sure of what I’m seeing, but I’d swear that someone just accessed our shipboard computer,” Major Roush said, “I even lost control of the keyboard for about two or three seconds there.”
“Can the internet even reach up here?” Roberts asked.
“Oh, it wasn’t the internet. I even got a sudden firewall warning, but it disappeared as quickly as it popped up.”
“Do you think it could be this alien ship?” Colonel Santini asked.
“I don’t know,” he replied, “For all I know, it could have just been a glitch in our system. Everything looks fine right now.”
“Then we’ll proceed as planned,” the Colonel stated, “Report anything out of the ordinary.”
A moment later, the bay doors opened above the crew, revealing nothing but dark grey steel as far as the eyes could see. Doctor Lentz and Conner followed the same procedure as before while the others watched from the open bay. They pushed off from the shuttle in the direction of the circular grill above them. Conner reached the grill first, easily grabbing hold of the wide bars that protected the vent. Lentz followed barely ten seconds later, taking hold of the vent beside him.
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