3:17:09
Helen Buchanan: TAHU and payload ejected, Captain.
3:17:10
Dale Powers: All essential files deleted. Main systems shutting down.
3:17:13
Captain Turner: Good, now both of you to your security receptacles. (Turns around)
3:17:20
—Where’s Alex!?
24
NASA Orcus 1 :
Sol System :
Flight Path Pluto-Luna :
For the first time in months—the first time since he realized his parents had died—Alex was truly scared. Petrified would be a better word, but semantics was beyond him right then.
He had sensed the approaching ship minutes before the Orcus 1’s sensors alerted the command crew to its presence. At first, he had thought it was merely a rendezvous ship previously arranged by NASA or CSE, but when the klaxons sounded, his curiosity and confusion had brought him to the command bridge where he learned the truth.
Pirates.
And Alex had no illusions that their purpose was anything but to kidnap him. No stranger to the EarthMesh, Alex knew that no information in the world was failsafe. Someone must have hacked the Orcus 1’s transmissions to NASA and pieced the clues together. They knew Alex was alive, and potentially the key to light-speed travel.
A valuable commodity, to say the least.
It took him three minutes to unfreeze his paralyzed muscles. Once the captain knew of the impending collision between the ships that would destroy the Orcus 1, all hands would be ordered to their respective security receptacles. They would jettison the crew’s receptacles before impact, and the pirate ship would alter course, hunting down each receptacle in their search for Alex.
But he would not be among them.
There were enough receptacles for the original crew. He was sure no one would have the presence of mind to think of Alex’s survival; even if someone did offer him a receptacle in their stead, he would not accept. He had something else in mind.
He raced for his old security receptacle from the TAHU in the payload bay. It was his only chance. Standard procedure dictated that all receptacles be fully charged at all times; and that included the one from the TAHU. Although none of the Orcus 1 crew had thought to recharge the receptacle, Alex had taken it upon himself to do the job one night a few weeks back. It had been a simple task after accessing the SOP files from the main computer banks.
He congratulated himself on his forethought.
It would take the pirates hours, perhaps even a full day, to hunt down the Orcus 1 security receptacles, only to discover their quarry not among them. By that time, the emergency alert to Earth would bring military vessels patrolling the asteroid belt to the rescue, and the pirates would have to flee or die. All the while, Alex would be in his old security receptacle in the ship’s payload bay, unharmed.
Thirty seconds after dashing from the Command Bridge, Alex reached the payload bay and hurried to the ruins of the TAHU. He crawled through the wreckage to the security receptacle and fastened himself in, initiating a priority code he had programmed. For eighteen hours, he would be safe.
Closing his eyes, he trained his mind outside the Orcus 1 and tried to locate, with his mental capacity, the oncoming pirate ship.
Just as he was getting a fix on it, and began to magnify his outer vision, there was a deep mechanical rumbling under him, shaking the security receptacle violently.
“What the—?” he called out, steadying himself inside the receptacle.
He interfaced with the status monitor. “Condition?”
The monitor computer could accept voiced queries, but could answer only visually on the screen. In standard computer typeface, the words appeared.
: Unknown interference with SC stabilizers : Sensor findings inconclusive : Waiting :
“Link with Orcus 1 computer,” he ordered.
: Link established : Waiting :
“Computer. What is the cause of recent vibrations in payload bay?”
: Vibrations in payload bay caused by executive order to eject all contents in payload bay by Captain Justine Churchill Turner at 3:16:50 p.m. EST : Waiting :
“Computer!” he shouted. “Abort! Abort! Abort!”
: Unable to comply : Waiting :
Alex did not have long to wait; at 3:17:08, a loud grinding noise filled his ears, blocking out any other sound, blocking out even his thoughts, as the payload bay door opened and the airlock pumps jettisoned the TAHU, the security receptacle, Alex, and a few dozen other objects into space.
Alex ground his teeth together as a sudden motion slammed him face first into the security receptacle’s monitor. His elastiplas restraints bit deep into his ribs and thighs.
Within moments, silence replaced the grinding, and Alex’s equilibrium returned. He could feel himself rotating at a slow rate. As for his velocity and trajectory, the security receptacle was useless in that regard.
Feeling the panic well up in his throat like hot bile, Alex forced himself to calm down and let his outer vision do for him what the security receptacle sensors could not. Within moments, he found that steady mental rhythm that allowed him to see outside of himself, to see outside of the tiny receptacle into the vastness of the beyond.
Thirty degrees or so from the zenith of his trajectory, he saw the Orcus 1. From his viewpoint, it was the NASA craft that was rotating in wide circles around his position, getting farther and farther away by the second.
He saw a smaller ship approaching the Orcus 1. Instead of continuing its trajectory, the pirate ship’s port thrusters fired, and it changed position, altering course to intercept Alex.
At that point, Alex could have cried at the way things had turned out.
He was completely helpless.
25
Quantum Resources, Inc.:
Toronto :
Canada Corp.:
Michael slammed his fist down on his desk. The windows in his new fourth floor office in the Quantum Resources, Inc. complex north of Toronto rattled from the vibrations. In the hall, his administrative assistant stopped the dicta-shell, glanced up through the semi-transparent fiber wall.
“What? This had better be some kind of sick joke! This is the goddamn twenty-first century! Things like this don’t happen!” Michael could barely contain his anger.
“I’m sorry, sir, but we just received the NASA-slaved EPS transmission from the Orcus 1’s security camera confirming their S.I.D. call.”
Calbert Loche was trying hard not to notice his superior’s ire, knowing it was not directed at him, and continued with his report.
“At approximately 15:23 EST, an unmarked aggressor bore down on a collision course with the Orcus 1. For some reason, the Orcus 1 ejected its payload moments before impact, and the aggressor altered course for intercept. There are no standard operating procedures for a pirate attack. Captain Turner was just doing what she thought was best. She was making it up as she went along, and only had a few moments to make a decision. NASA has cleared her of any culpability.
“Captain Turner confirms there was a single life form reading in the ejected payload, that of Alex Manez, who is now in the confines of the attacking ship. What he was doing there, I don’t know. The payload bay was off limits, but Alex must have thought it a good hiding place.
“The Orcus 1 had no hope of pursuit, and its sensors were jammed. They lost the aggressor’s signature emissions. The Orcus 1 is continuing final approach to Luna, and will arrive in fourteen days. NASA has a dreadnought-class protector less than a hundred gigs away, and is sending it to follow the aggressor’s last known trajectory, but the chances of picking up its engine emissions signature is minimal. The Space Traffic Commission has been alerted and will investigate, on a random basis, ships entering Earth orbit over the next thirty days.”
“For what that’s worth!” Michael blurted. “A couple of bottles of whiskey is enough to get those damned commissionaires to look the other way for five minutes. Damn!” he cu
rsed. Turning to Loche, he spoke through gritted teeth. “You know what this means?”
Calbert said, “It means someone out there knows all about Element X, and probably has information we don’t. That information, I would assume, indicates that Alex is more involved in this than being a hapless bystander. Captain Turner’s reports on Alex are less than forthcoming; Alex has been affected somehow, the kidnappers know more than we do about it, and they took him because of it.”
“The possibility occurs to me that either we’re not the first ones to encounter Element X, or that someone is reading every file we transmit.” Michael paced up and down the office. “We need more information. I want everything we’ve got on anything to do with Element X, Alex, Orcus 1, Dis Pater, Macklin’s Rock, everything. I want a special team set up to investigate this—take people off the element searcher team if you have to. There’s something about all of this that we’re missing. Something right in front of our noses. God, I hate being left in the dark; it’s infuriating. I want answers!”
“I’ll get right on it,” Calbert said. “I know just the people to use.” He left Michael to brood by himself.
The Director of Quantum Resources did not brood long. There were just too many bits of seemingly unconnected data, and too many pieces of this grand puzzle that did add up in any way. There was too much that he did not know.
Over the past few months, he had been busy getting Quantum Resources off its feet. Although they did not have any product to show for their efforts yet, their charter provided for a lengthy R&D lapse, considering the scarcity of the element around which their company was based.
Of the forty-seven employees at Quantum Resources, thirty were collating data and trying to determine relationships among asteroidal figures to narrow down the conditions where Element X might be found. It was an astronomical task, but had about as much chance as randomly picking an asteroid and physically surveying it.
Ten employees were engineers determining the properties of Element X based on sketchy data, and attempting to develop theories on possible uses of the mysterious element.
The remaining seven, including Michael, Calbert, and Raymond, were administrative. As it stood, Raymond Magrath was more than capable of handling internal administration by himself. Calbert was effective as a liaison between Quantum Resources and their parent corporations. Michael did not have any concrete task before him except for the odd meeting between NASA and CSE execs.
He decided to roll up his sleeves and get himself immersed hip-deep in this investigation. It was time to get down and dirty.
The first question on his mind, something that had been bothering him for a number of months, was Captain Turner of the Orcus 1. Her reports to NASA were inconsistent.
When dealing with the technical aspects of the mission, such as current shipboard conditions, the ongoing investigation of the TAHU, and transmission of theories put forth by the scientists aboard concerning Dis Pater, she was exhaustive. Concerning Alex, she was elusive. Although her statements were anything but brief, the content never changed: Alex was fine. Alex was doing well. Alex was normal and healthy.
Obviously, somebody thought Alex was extraordinary enough to stage a pirating and kidnapping of the young boy. Captain Turner had spent the better part of five months with the youngster; she had to have seen something out of the ordinary.
Turning to his desktop, he entered a high-security password in his computer, typed an encoded EPS message. He directed his transmission to intercept the Orcus 1.
∞
To: Captain Justine Turner, Orcus 1
From: Director Michael Sanderson, Quantum Resources, Inc.
Security: Level 1 Clearance
I have been apprised of the attack on the Orcus 1, and the subsequent kidnapping of Alex Manez. I appreciate the extremes to which the abductors have gone to complete their task. All measures are being taken by our governments to find Alex.
It has come to my attention that Alex may have been affected by exposure to the element we are temporarily terming ‘Element X’ in ways that we have not yet fathomed; we suspect the third party involved has obtained information about Alex that may make it imperative we recover him, beyond the obvious reasons to do so. It would be helpful if you could provide me with any observations, however mundane, you have made about Alex that may not have been included in previous reports.
Director Michael Sanderson
Quantum Resources, Inc.
∞
Michael tapped the SEND option on his console. It would take more than twenty minutes for the message to reach the Orcus 1; an additional amount of time for the captain to form her response; and another twenty minutes for the reply to reach him. Still, Michael checked his computer a dozen times that hour for messages.
When his secretary informed him she was heading off for lunch, Michael realized he was hungry. To clear his mind, he put on his overcoat and gloves and took a walk down the street to the Webster Family Feed Company for a ham on rye and a tall glass of unsweetened iced tea.
His thoughts were in turmoil. The national and international ramifications of the events of the past few months were staggering, but Michael could not help thinking about Alex.
The poor kid. First, he lost his parents, then was propelled more than four billion kilometers from home; and, as he made the long journey back to Earth, he was accidentally ejected into space, and subsequently kidnapped by forces unknown. How would all that affect a child’s mind?
When Michael arrived back in his office, his computer DMR screen was flashing, indicating an urgent incoming message.
Barely suppressing his excitement, he opened the communiqué and read Captain Turner’s reply.
∞
To: Director Michael Sanderson, Quantum Resources, Inc.
From: Captain Justine Turner, Orcus 1, NASA
Security: Level 1 Clearance
Against my better judgment, I am forwarding selected excerpts from my private journal—coded with a double-redundant protocol—to you through a trusted colleague; you should receive the uncoded version in a matter of hours. It is painfully obvious no transmission is completely secure; I would have rather waited to present this information to relevant parties in person, but have taken as many steps as possible to keep this information secure. I ask that you keep this to yourself for the time being.
A second copy is being forwarded to Director William Tuttle.
Captain, Justine Turner, Orcus 1, NASA
∞
The wait would drive him crazy. Michael decided to occupy his time answering his other meshmail and browsing the EarthMesh.
Knowing that it could be years before Quantum Resources saw a profit, Michael had diverted a small percentage of the startup capital into a number of secondary investments; hedging his bets, as it were. He logged onto the EarthMesh Global Stock Market and checked the progress of his accounts, selling off a few, buying into a few other companies that looked good to him.
A knock on his door brought him back to the here and now, and he looked up as Calbert Loche entered the room.
“I just wanted to let you know that I’ve formed a research team of seven for this project. Most of the information available is already in our data banks, but they’ve decided to start from the beginning and work their way through it all as if for the first time.”
“Good. I’ve made a few inquiries of my own to obtain more data. I’m racking my brains. There’s this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that tells me we’re missing something crucial. I want to know more. I want Alex found.”
“Those are some of the directives I issued them. Also, they are contacting a few other organizations that might have a different angle on the entire Dis Pater matter: SETI and some of its independent splinter groups. Crop circle experts are having a field day, saying they’ve predicted this for over a hundred years. There’s a lot of data out there, and a lot of people with even more opinions. There are the Luddites who think progress is the devil’s
own weapon against the soul, and would do anything to keep this information from being used. If you’re looking for someone who’s responsible for the kidnapping, we’ve got ourselves about a billion-and-a-half suspects. And almost as many motives.”
“I’d like to narrow that down, just a little,” Michael replied acerbically. “And quickly. Within the next week or two.”
“You ask the impossible, and we shall provide.” Calbert smiled lightly. “Anyway, it’s knock-off time. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Michael looked at the clock in the corner of his DMR. “Already? Where did the time go? I’m going to stick around a while, check a few leads.”
“All right.”
Michael went back to his computer, but he could not focus on anything. He leaned his chin on the palm of his hand and stared blankly at the monitor, letting his thoughts run away; a free association exercise of sorts.
He imagined traveling to the stars, meeting alien cultures, and charting the entire galaxy. What an adventure!
He was jarred out of his reverie when his communicator chimed. Picking it up, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Sanderson here.”
The receptionist said, “Hello, sir. Your wife is here to pick you up. She’s waiting outside in the car.”
“My wife? She’s not supposed to be picking me up. I drove here this morning myself. Are you sure it’s my wife?”
“Uh, yes, sir. She rang in and said she’s been waiting for twenty minutes.”
Michael sighed. It probably was time to turn in for the day. He was exhausted and far too frustrated to be effective. He needed a good night’s sleep.
“All right. If she rings again, tell her I’m on my way.”
“Certainly, sir.”
Michael hung up the communicator and put on his jacket, packed his briefcase, and headed down to the lobby. He nodded at Henry as he passed through the front desk security scanners, and stepped outside.
His car was idling in the pickup area. He couldn’t see through the tinted windows, but when the horn sounded sharply—a trait his wife had when impatient—he subconsciously relaxed. Walking over to the passenger side, he opened the door and got in.
Forbidden The Stars (The Interstellar Age Book 1) Page 12