by Jack L Knapp
Putting down the hand lens, Franz Kehr, PhD, rubbed his eyes.
“It could be,” he muttered. “I agree, NFI’s ships shouldn’t be there, but the only other choice is that this isn’t one of theirs. It might be some sort of hush-hush military project, but that still leaves me wondering, because we usually get warning of a launch. Could this one have been orbiting the moon? I’m certain we’d know if there was a moon shot scheduled. It’s common courtesy, and they’re pretty reliable.
He scratched his chin reflectively, wishing that he hadn’t given up his pipe. Tobacco could be a comfort at a time like this. “Maybe a Russian or a Chinese ship? But the Russians are still flying Soyuz capsules, and they look nothing like this. The Chinese don’t even have that. Tentative conclusion, Tim, you just may have photographed the very first real unidentified flying object. Maybe even one from outer space.”
“I don’t believe it, Doctor Kehr. What are the odds?”
“If you’ll pardon my saying so, Tim, astronomical. Pardon the pun, I mean. Still, Q.E.D.; The facts speak for themselves.”
“My career is ruined! I’ll always be the guy behind the tabloid articles, not the one who found an Earthlike planet around Alpha Centauri!”
“There’s another solution, Tim. Say nothing.”
“But shouldn’t this be reported, Doctor Kehr?”
“It will be. I’ll let it slip, but at the same time I’ll deny that either of us had anything to do with it. You could take the credit, but as you say, the reaction might be unfortunate. You’re still very new, very untried. Some will accuse you of faking the photo.”
“You don’t mind taking care of it?”
“I’ll make a note in my journal, but I won’t go public just yet. I’ll deliberately leak it to one of the tabloids later on, perhaps in England. They’re a feisty bunch, they’ll publish anything. I’ll just leave a note with the photo saying it was taken by an astronomer. That way, if any honor is to eventually come to someone, you can step forward. I’ll corroborate the find, and the journal entry will prove our statements.”
“Thank you, doctor. Thank you very much.”
As it happened, Doctor Kehr posted a very short entry. ‘Unusual object photographed’, followed by the date and time. He could always mention Tim’s name later on. On the other hand, if someone interpreted the find as happening during his, Kehr’s shift, and perhaps concluded that he’d been the finder, well, that could always be cleared up with a few sentences. And hadn’t he advised Tim regarding the find? Shouldn’t an adviser receive some of the credit for risking his reputation?”
Yes, this was clearly the best way to deal with it. Doctor Kehr closed the journal and returned it to his desk. There were other images to capture, and precious little darkness remaining.
Chapter Seven
Evgeny knocked on the office door, then entered.
“Minister Zlotov, there has been a communication. Should I come back later?”
“No, let’s have it now. Communication from whom?”
“It came from the American we met, Mister Pinchot Forberger. He works for one of their senators. He’s a staff member I believe, which is how he came to the information.”
“And what did Staffer Forberger have to say?”
“A spacecraft has been detected, Minister. One of their astronomers actually got a photo.”
“Really? Where was this spacecraft?”
“Near the moon, minister. It may have come from the moon, or it may have come from interplanetary space.”
“One of the NFI ships, you think?”
Evgeny was cautious when he replied. “I think so. It looks like the one General Stroganoff attempted to capture. But this one is surrounded by a blue glow, and there was no sign of that when we photographed the other ship. That picture was taken from orbit.”
“Let me think.” Deputy Minister Zlotov turned and looked moodily out of the window. Most of the snow was gone, the rest would melt in a few weeks. A few hardy flowers poked through the newly-thawed ground. Another ship? They were springing up like the flowers!
“Evgeny, where could this ship have come from? I shall be honest with you, we have nothing like this in development. I would know. How could the Americans discover something so unheard of?”
“I do not know, Minister. General Stroganoff believed they had discovered antigravity. Moreover, they appear to have a working model.”
“Impossible. That’s so far in advance of our knowledge that something else has to be going on.”
“There was speculation some time ago that the American military was testing a hypersonic airplane, minister. A new kind of jet engine powered the craft, if the theoreticians were correct. At such speeds, the air blows out the jet flame, so conventional designs do not work. The jets they used generated intense heat, meaning that the exhaust showed a purplish tinge.”
“Yes, I recall that. But the purple color was only in the exhaust. We know what caused that, it’s new but not revolutionary. No, that can’t be it, but perhaps that is where we will find the answer. Evgeny, where do the Americans hide their new developments while they test them? Where do their test flights originate from?”
Evgeny was hesitant. “Do you mean the facility in Nevada, Minister?”
“I do. What do they call that place, Evgeny?”
“I do not recall, Minister. Is it important?”
“I think so! What was the name of that film, the one that featured an extraterrestrial?”
“I believe it was called Independence Day, minister. But it was only a film. It revealed nothing new. The spaceship in the photo looks nothing like the giant craft in that movie. It also looks nothing like the one that flew away from General Stroganoff after his helicopter was shot down.”
“Misdirection, Evgeny! Are the Americans wise enough to release a film so their people become accustomed to learning about strange creatures? Was the film an attempt to mislead us, make us believe we were seeing movie props instead of real, functioning, extraterrestrial spaceships? And where was the craft located, the one we saw in the satellite photos?”
“It was in one of their poorer regions, minister. I can find the answer.”
“I remember it, Evgeny! It’s why I am an important minister and you are just a clerk, I remember important things! The device was in New Mexico!”
“Of course, minister, I should have remembered that. But why is that significant?”
“What else is in New Mexico, Evgeny? Think, man!”
“Mister Robert Goddard conducted liquid rocket experiments there, and a man recently parachuted to earth from a balloon. Actually, the balloon only lifted the gondola to space. He jumped from that, not the balloon itself. The man was an adventurer, not even an American, Minister.”
“No, no, Evgeny! The place is a hotbed of testing! Their rockets are fired from the proving ground and even the first atomic bomb was set off there! But there are persistent claims that a flying saucer landed during the Great Patriotic War, and the location is very near to where we photographed the spaceplane. They deny it, of course, but consider, Evgeny! What if they recovered an interplanetary craft intact? Or at least one that’s undamaged enough that they could discover its means of propulsion! What would they do with it, Evgeny?”
“Send it to the White Sands Cosmodrome minister?”
“Perhaps they did, at least in the beginning. But then they moved it to Nevada, to this Area 51! The film was only a clever red herring, Evgeny! We must tell our Chinese friends of our discovery! Just think, Evgeny, you could become a colonel and I could become a full general!”
“If you say so, minister. Shall I telephone the others?”
“Not the American. He may not know the truth, or he may be concealing it, but in either case he’s too close to their government. We must not let him know we’ve discovered their secret. Telephone the others, ask if a meeting at this time is convenient. Same location, I think. Set it up, Evgeny.”
“Yes, minister.”
Evgeny shook his head as soon as he left the room. Colonel, indeed. More likely, I’ll wind up sharing a cell in Siberia with this lunatic!
#
Frenchy, Chuck, and Will had lunch at a hotel in Switzerland. After the meal, Frenchy opened the discussion.
“We need to reorganize. Simply put, the job’s gotten to be more than I can handle. Will, you’ve got the most experience with the new birds and you’re familiar with the Japanese and French contracts. I want you to take over as general administrator for the contracts, the ones we have and the new ones coming up. You’re the new Director of Flight Operations. The new Insect-class ships are yours as soon as they come off the assembly line. Pick your own people, but I’d suggest a separate manager for each contract. Chuck, you’ll have the Farside class ships and you’re in charge of the moon project. Don’t tie yourself down, get a deputy or two to handle construction and planning. Will’s area of responsibility will overlap yours, of course, but I don’t see that as a problem. You’ve been working together all along. Financing for Moonbase will come from Will’s contracts, and Will’s ships will store rods on the moon, meaning his task is simplified. Hazardous waste will continue to be sent off to the sun. As for the orbiting manned satellites, the countries are still working on those. Chuck, you’ll probably handle that. Your Farside class ships are better suited for the job.
“Income from our current contracts will pay for the new Insect class ships, but as soon as the last one is delivered it will free up additional money for Moonbase. Pete thinks we’ll assemble our larger ships on the moon. That means Moonbase is our stepping-stone to outer space. From the moon, our first survey will be to Earth’s Trojan points. There’s at least one asteroid there, but we won’t know whether it’s valuable until we get there. Then it’s on to Mars. We’ll need a base, probably several, to exploit the main asteroid belt.” Frenchy paused for a moment.
“There will be some money available immediately, Chuck, so you can get started on Moonbase right away. As for Mars, I expect building to go faster. Our people will use your techniques, the ones you develop while you’re building Moonbase. We’ll definitely need a larger budget, because I expect we’re going to need several bases.” Frenchy had leaned back in his chair. Now he sat upright.
“As for me, I’ll remain CEO and chairman, as well as be in overall charge of groundside operations. Panit will handle acquisitions, Ben remains Comptroller, Martha is in charge of personnel, including recruiting and training. She will also continue as manager of the Swiss office, which will be expanded and remain our center for non-flight operations. She isn’t interested in a pilot’s license, so her responsibilities will continue to be ground-based.” Frenchy paused to let his statements sink in.
“Questions or comments?” Frenchy sipped his coffee.
“Maybe. Who’s in charge of research?” asked Chuck.
“I’ll keep that, at least for now. Are you concerned about something?”
“I’m not sure. Dolph sent a follow-up about the blue field. He’s detected waves, a sort of oscillation in the field. He also confirmed that the aft impellers control the shape of the field. The nose impellers are smaller, so the field they generate syncs with the field from the aft units, making it pear-shaped. It looks like a single field in the videos, but Dolph believes the joining is not perfect. The impellers generate separate fields, one at the front, one in the rear. They link together as soon as the impellers reach 17% output, and the more output there is the stronger the link becomes. Below that threshold, the field flickers. It’s not strong enough to block ions, so the only thing protecting the crew is the cabin shielding. Some time back, we talked about transferring cargo and passengers while ships are under way. At this point, we don’t know if it’s possible. There’s only one way to find out and that’s to give it a try. Wolfgang and I will fly the first attempt.”
Frenchy tapped his finger on the table. “Chuck, I’m not sure that’s wise. Two of our most experienced commanders, including a director of the company and head of lunar operations? We can’t afford to lose you.”
“Frenchy, can I sit back and let someone else take all the chances? That’s not the kind of leadership I learned in the Marines.”
“Chuck, that was a long time ago. You’re not a Marine now, you’re about to be a father, you’re the man I’m depending on to build our most-important facility. A lot of other people depend on you too. Generals don’t lead from the front, because they’re not expendable. It sounds harsh, but it’s true. I don’t want you flying that mission. If you think Wolfgang should fly it, I’ll accept that, but put him in overall command. Let him know that it’s up to him, and if he determines it’s not feasible then it won’t be done. We can always shut down the impellers long enough for transfers. For that matter, he could try it in the atmosphere, say over the Pacific. If something goes wrong, people would have a better chance of living through it if they had parachutes.”
Chuck stared at Frenchy, then dropped his eyes.
“Frenchy, we’re flying in space, all of the pilots. Everything we do out there is dangerous.”
“Agreed, but some dangers should not be undertaken by corporate executives.”
#
“And are you well this morning, lass?”
“Well enough, I suppose. How do you fare, Mac?”
Mac chuckled. “Learning to speak the Queen’s English, are you? I’m well, lass, very well indeed. And where are we off to this morning, ay?”
“I mentioned that we hoped to purchase property here. I’m interested in looking at the better neighborhoods. If I can find a suitable place, I may hire a builder.”
“Let me think a bit. What of your husband, luv? When will he be joining you?”
“That’s a bit up in the air for now. Oh, there’s no problem, he’ll be here, but...he flies.” True enough, she thought. “His schedule takes him to different places around the world.”
“Quantas, is it?”
“No, he’s a...well, sort of a vice president of a different company. About that neighborhood?”
“We could look at Paddington, lass. It’s just nearby to Mount Coot-tha, ay. Gone a bit pricy in recent years, but you might like it. You’ll not like the hills, I’m thinking, not with you expecting, but we can still ‘ave a look. Old Queenslander houses there, some new ones too. Got a fair number of Yanks living there nowadays, ay. But again, ‘tis not cheap.”
“How pricy, Mac?”
“A million and up, lass. There are banks to deal with the financials, and property changes hands often so they’re prepared to loan on a purchase, ay. Can your husband’s salary handle that?”
“If we find what we’re looking for, yes.”
“Well, then. I should have asked for more to drive you around, I’m thinking!”
Lina smiled as Mac chuckled. “And will you sit up front or in the back, luv?”
“The back, this time. I’ll get a better view, being able to look out both sides.”
“I’ll just drive along Caxton Street, then. It will take us through Lower Paddington, along Given Terrace, then it changes to Latrobe Terrace and Upper Paddington. It’s a pleasant place, is Paddington. The governor, of Queensland I mean, has his official residence there at Government House. I’m not sure whether he lives there, because it’s been around a fair while, the old place. It was renovated a few years ago. It’s open to the public twice a year, on Australia Day and Queensland Day. Government House Open Day, they call it, ay.”
Minutes later, Mac pointed out a row of buildings. “That’s Old Queenslander style, luv. It’s passing, nowadays. People want new things, ay. Pity, that,” said Mac.
“They’re lovely! Very colorful, Mac. But I doubt they’re for sale.”
“Well, this being Paddington, you never know. But it’s likely you’re right. I’ll just go on a bit further, ay. Maybe all the way out to the suburbs, maybe Burpengary.”
Mac paused to allow a car to pull in ahead.
“Lots of shop
s, lots of restaurants. More sheilas than blokes in Paddington, I hear. Younger crowd, too. There are schools, parks, and of course Paddington’s not so far from the city. The business district, I mean. Then there’s Red Hill, a bit further on, and Petrie Terrace. Lots of hills, d’ ye see, so terrace is a common name hereabouts. Separate villages they were, ay. Is this the sort of place you would be happy in?”
“I’m not sure yet. I don’t want to make up my mind just yet. You were right, there are a lot of hills. It’s all up and down, and when we’re not climbing we’re turning, so I’m leaning to one side or the other!”
“No help for it, luv. Would you like to go back to the city? Not so hilly there, if you’re uncomfortable.”
“Perhaps we should. I’m feeling somewhat queasy. I’ve never been bothered by car sickness, but that may be what’s happening. I think I’d like to go back to the hotel. We can go out again this afternoon.”
“Just as you say, luv. I’ll take it slow, that may help, ay.”
Mac turned on Enoggera Terrace road, and true to his word, drove as slowly as traffic permitted. A few minutes later he approached Route 31.
“I’ll have you at your hotel in no time, luv. Are you feeling a bit better?”
“I’m not sure, Mac. But I’m glad we cut the tour short.”
Mac turned toward downtown and increased speed, glancing in the rear view mirror. Something was clearly not right.
“Lass?”
“I’m sorry, Mac. I wasn’t due...Mac, is there a hospital nearby?”
“Aye, there is. Just past the M3 Motorway we’ll reach Saint Andrews, ay. Is it your time, luv?”
“I think so, Mac. I’m afraid the seat’s a mess.”