Steve and Sheri turned to face each other. Sheri’s face paled.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Steve?” she asked. “A coincidence perhaps?”
“Perhaps, surely not though. We ran simulation after simulation. We tried every possible scenario,” said Steve, sipping at his coffee, his hand trembling ever so slightly as he placed the cup back on the table. His brain was racing. Could this really have been related to their project? Could Sheri’s premonition have been right? He noticed her face start to crumple and his stomach twisted into a tight knot.
“Damn! I knew we had overlooked something. Oh, Steve, I can’t believe I’m responsible for this catastrophe.” Recognizing her pain, he quickly threw his arms around her and held her tightly.
“If it is related, babe, and we have no way of knowing yet that it is, then you’re not the only one to blame. Hundreds of us are involved with EMB. We’re all to blame.”
Steve shuddered at the thought of what the magnetic reversal would mean to the planet. He knew perhaps more than anyone the danger it presented.
* * * *
After guardedly closing the door to the press room, Janine looked around. The room was a decent size, perhaps five hundred square feet. It was mostly bare, although there were a few holograms and photographs on the walls of famous astronauts that had made history, like Alan Shepard and Neil Armstrong. To her right was an entire holographic memorial to the seven international astronauts who lost their lives on the surface of Mars. At the top was a plaque that read, “To those who dared to explore the red planet and who perished on a faraway world, may the citizens of the planet Earth forever be indebted.”
The Mars mission in 2041 had always been a controversial one. Many scientists didn’t think humans were ready to embark on such a daring operation. There were still far too many psychological and technical barriers that had not been adequately addressed, but after the Curiosity rover discovered liquid water on the red planet in 2015, and then what seemed to be a living microbe in 2031, funding had poured into NASA, and suddenly every man and his dog wanted to go to Mars to confirm the tentative findings. Unfortunately that would never happen.
Janine fondly recalled the day she had interviewed the seven astronauts in this very press room. It was probably one of the most thrilling times she could remember as a budding, ambitious young journalist. It was an innocent time before Adam. She could taste the excitement and adventure that had lain ahead almost as if she herself were about to board the spacecraft. The astronauts had joked around with the media, one even bringing a golf club to the interview, explaining how he would beat Buzz’s record golf swing on the moon.
The mission had initially gone off without a hitch. The launch, Earth orbit, Mars trajectory and the nine-month journey had been so flawless that NASA had begun to feel entirely complacent about it. It had been more than thirty-five years since the last NASA disaster when the space shuttle Columbia had disintegrated upon re-entry. Few people even remembered the incident clearly anymore.
Then after an impeccable historic landing on the red planet, a young Japanese astronaut on board by the name of Hiroyama experienced a psychotic meltdown and decided that the Mars landing vehicle was being overrun by demons. He tried to warn the others, but they wouldn’t listen to him, and the captain, Pierce, quarantined him to his quarters. But while the crew slept, Hiroyama escaped and made his way to the main oxygen reservoir and vented the entire landing vehicle’s oxygen supply into the thin Martian atmosphere. He believed that even though he could not save their lives that it was still possible to save their souls.
The crew asphyxiated in their sleep as their psychotic fellow astronaut exorcised his demons. The tragedy was compounded by NASA being able to see the whole nightmare transpiring, but powerless to do anything to stop it. Hiroyama had manually overridden any control that NASA had over the Mars lander. The demons had serendipitously managed to spare his mathematical reasoning.
The world watched in horror as the events unfolded live within their living rooms. Janine recalled how her then boss, a narcissistic, vehemently vindictive, ruthless homophobe called Phil Brown, had insisted Janine interview the commander’s wife about five days following the disaster, while emotions were still running hot. She had respectfully declined, but was faced with an ultimatum that either she got the interview, or she moved on to greener pastures. Torn in two, and after a few sleepless nights trying to decide on the best course of action, she had eventually knocked on Mrs. Pierce’s front door one hot summer’s day. The tearful woman that answered begged her to go away, but she didn’t. Instead Janine handed her a grief counselor’s card, along with flowers and a roast, then squeezed her hand tightly and told her that she could never begin to understand the grief she was going through, but that time and a good counselor had made a huge difference to her when she had lost her best friend to cancer seven years earlier. She then left, rung her boss and told him where to stick his job, but not before she posted five adverts on five different gay dating websites, complete with his phone and address details and an attached picture of a Greek Adonis. Hunky James Dean lookalike seeks Mr. Right … all ages and weights apply. Within days, Phil had gay men of every shape, size and age harassing him for a date. He swore, cursed and threatened these men until eventually he cracked, but not until after receiving vicious hate mail and a string of random attacks on his home and family which lasted months. He strongly suspected that Janine had been behind the plot, but she calmly pleaded ignorance, and without any evidence to support his claim, he could do nothing more than curse at her. The heat finally got too much for him and he quit his job and moved to Indianapolis. There’s only one thing worse than a woman scorned, thought Janine, and that’s a gay man scorned. It was also rumored for years after, that whenever Phil traveled by plane, his luggage never quite ended up at the same destination as him or his family. God bless those fabulous trolley dollies.
Janine’s daydream was interrupted by a noise emanating from the adjacent corridor. She was working against the clock and quickly returned to the task at hand. She retrieved the larger of the two devices she had been hiding in her uniform pocket, and made her way to the multimedia desk at the far wall. This desk had a live feed coming in directly from EMB. It was utilized when there were too many reporters to allow them all access to the main NASA auditorium. The live feed was relayed to a giant 100-inch holographic LED monitor, which gave the media excellent access to the entire goings-on in the control room.
After placing the holographic glasses provided by the major on the desk, Janine searched the rear of the console and located the cables feeding the signal to the monitor. The small device in her hand had a HDMI cable protruding from its rear. She found the HDMI cable that plugged into the monitor, unplugged it and plugged it into her own device. She then took the HDMI cable from her device and plugged it back into the monitor. She switched on the device, which would now be charged wirelessly from a nearby electrical source when the battery ran low.
Her work was done. She hoped that when she got home later and logged into her webpage, she would in fact be logging directly into the NASA control room.
Janine pushed the cables back to their original position. Anyone looking directly at the desk would be unable to spot the device. She pulled out the other small device from her trouser pocket and secured it above the Neil Armstrong picture in the frame. It was no bigger than a dime, and she managed to conceal it well within the black casing. She realized this remote wirelessly charged camera would most likely prove to be a waste of time, seeing as no one would be entering the press room anytime soon, but one never knew. After one final glance around, she left the room, sneaked back into the corridor and exited the building trying to blend in with two similarly dressed female soldiers. One woman screwed her eyes up at her, as if she had possibly seen her somewhere before. Thankfully she didn’t say anything. It was the single disadvantage that Janine had. She was a public figure, and despite the disguise, public figur
es always ran the risk of being recognized by someone. She was outside the building, sneaking back toward the side entrance, and was about to exit the side gate when her stomach did a flip.
“Shit!” she muttered under her breath. In her haste, she had left the holographic glasses in the press room.
Then, a tap on her shoulder. She froze. Game over! She turned around slowly, her heart about to explode inside her chest.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
It was the major.
“Damn, you scared the life out of me,” she blurted, placing her trembling hand over her chest.
“So where’s the bag you had to have that your life depended on?” asked Graham, rolling his eyes. He felt beads of sweat dripping down his hot cheeks.
“Let’s just say it was what was in the bag that counts, and no, you can’t see it! And by the way, we have a tiny problem.”
The major instantly felt ill, and wished for a moment that he could be anywhere else. Hell would do. From the tone of her voice, he was terrified of what she was about to disclose. “What now?” he asked.
“I somehow managed to leave the glasses in the press room,” she said calmly. “Is that going to be a problem?”
He had an intense urge to slap her across the face, but knew that would only draw more attention to an already volatile situation. “Of course it’s going to be a fucking problem,” he managed in a quiet whisper. “I don’t fucking believe it! All you had to remember was a pair of glasses! What the hell are we going to do now?” As angry as he was, discretion was the key to his survival. His eyes darted around at the myriad battle-readied armed men and women. A young female officer in fatigues strolled past them. She hovered for a minute then moved off. He wondered if she had picked up on something.
After the woman was well out of listening range, Janine said, “Maybe you can go back and get them for me?” She seemed to be enjoying the situation, which infuriated him even more.
“And how am I supposed to do that when I’m not allowed in there?”
“Figure it out. You’re a major. Maybe you can borrow my swipe card and think of an excuse or something.”
“And risk being seen entering or leaving?” Being in the security room in order to steal the glasses, had almost done him in. He couldn’t possibly imagine now sneaking back into the Press room, where if caught would most certainly arouse enormous suspicion. . He was on the edge of a cliff. A gentle nudge now from someone, anyone, and he felt like he’d fall off. He reached inside his tunic pocket and pulled out a small medication bottle, flicked the lid open, grabbed a small purple tablet and popped it into his mouth.
“What’s that?” asked Janine, reaching out to grab the bottle.
“None of your damn business!” The bottle was already back in his pocket. He hoped the effects of the medication would kick in quickly. It had to. “I can just see the general commenting as he sees me waltzing into the press room,” he said between gritted teeth. “Say, Major, how would you feel about grabbing me a coffee from in there? I hear the press do a mean cappuccino.”
“No need for sarcasm, Major!” She was also starting to lose control.
“You just don’t seem to get it. This isn’t a game. We could both lose our jobs, not to mention the possibility of ending up locked up in a very small room for a very long time.” He paused to catch his breath. He could feel himself starting to hyperventilate.
Janine said, “Okay, here’s the deal. We leave the glasses where they are. None of your colleagues are allowed access to the room, right?”
Graham nodded.
“The first person to discover them will be the media, once they’re finally allowed inside, which could be weeks, the way things are looking, and I’ll make sure I’m in that party when that happens. The only thing I’m not sure of is whether I need the glasses to get out of here. Getting out of the main building didn’t seem to be a problem.”
“No, that’s not an issue. Just exit where we came in.”
He wasn’t thrilled with Janine’s solution. It was risky, but in his current state of mind, he wasn’t about to come up with an alternative plan.
“Okay, I’ve got to go,” said Janine. “I’ve a hungry cat at home to feed.”
Janine hurried off, making her way to the perimeter fence, slowly fading from the major’s view and disappearing into the shadows behind some trees.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
September 15, 17:00 EDT
Mount Stromlo Facility, Canberra, Australia
The sound of “Love is in the Air” by John Paul Young reverberated around the control room of the Mount Stromlo facility. Drew Murrey had brought in an old laptop that he’d found in his late father’s storeroom, following the man’s death one month earlier. After wading through tons of junk and antiquated video cassette tapes his dad had hoarded for years, he finally came across a vintage laptop his old man had used when he’d started his green energy business on his farm.
It was completely obsolete now, with a mere two terabytes of hard-drive disc space and just forty gigs of DDR2. Nevertheless, it had a myriad golden oldies from the 1970s and 1980s, music that Drew had come to enjoy listening to with his father as a child. The songs seemed to magically resurrect the man, and he took comfort from them. Today he’d decided to bring the antiquated computer into the office and play a random shuffle of songs.
After a long, gruelling day at his computer, Drew finally finished his paperwork. On his messy desk was a cup of cold coffee, a picture of his father and a glass ornament in the shape of a funnel with an inscription engraved on it which read, Young Australian Scientist of the Year 2038. He rubbed his tired eyes, and while dreaming about a nice glass of chilled sauvignon blanc, he ran the final few tests in the main EMB control room. He picked up the old laptop and made his way through the security doors to a giant holographic computer console. He was now within the Wi-Fi zone of the building.
Drew rested the laptop on the desk adjacent to the console and decided to take a stroll over to the giant hexagonal window that was flooded with brilliant colors from the setting sun. The light streamed through the window, draping everything it hit in gleaming orange and purple. Compared to NASA, the facility here was much smaller, with only a handful of scientists present on any one shift. As Drew stared into the distance, he felt himself become mesmerized by the sun slowly dropping down behind the grassy hills. The sky transformed from a brilliant orange to a bright pink, the wispy cirrus clouds melting into the surrounding hues of crimson and vermillion. He had enjoyed this miracle of nature many times before on the farm while growing up, but tonight something was different. There was movement in the darkening twilight sky. Squinting and straining his eyes he tried to understand it. A curtain of green light glowed brightly and then sank toward the horizon, flickering on and off like a wax candle about to be extinguished. It was a beautiful yet somewhat disturbing sight, and he shook his head in dismay, finally realizing what it was. He turned around and walked over to the drinks machine. On his way he brushed past a colleague.
“Hey, Drew. What’s happening? You have that worried look again,” said the freckle-faced man with enormous spectacles far too big for his face.
“Take a look outside, Ted and you’ll see why.”
“What d’ya mean? There’s nothing out there but the sunset.”
“Look closer. It’s not just a regular sunset. We have the aurora australis glowing in our backyard.”
Ted pulled his glasses from his face and bit into the arm of them. “That’s impossible. The aurora’s never seen this far north.”
“That’s not completely true. There have been rare sightings in the past, but I’m betting this time it’s for a different reason.”
Drew dropped a ten-dollar coin into the slot of the drinks machine. A bottle of minted coke was expelled from the bottom of the device. He reached for it, unscrewed the cap, and took a swig. “I think the aurora has something to do with this sudden switch in magnetic polarity. It looks like there a
re still weak areas in the Earth’s magnetic field where the solar wind is able to penetrate. I just hope the field settles down soon.”
“I’m not with you,” said Ted.
“We’re already having trouble with our satellites, and who knows what effect this may have on EMB.”
Ted nodded his head slowly in agreement. “True. Let’s hope the magnetosphere is just settling into its new home.”
Drew walked back to his computer console, his freckle-faced colleague disappearing into a nearby office. As he sat down, his attention was drawn to the old laptop’s screen. The previously crystal-clear monitor displaying a tropical fish screensaver was now flickering with strange patterns and images. Immediately he suspected Gary Newson, a known prankster who two weeks ago had thought it hysterical to lock Drew in the lavatory. That was until thirty minutes later when he received a fist in his face the moment Drew was finally let out of the cubicle. This time Gary had gone too far. Nobody messes with his late father’s computer.
Heart pumping adrenaline-rich blood to his muscles, he stormed into Gary’s office, grabbed him by the collar and lifted the pint-sized, gnome-like man up into the air.
“What the hell have you been doing to my laptop?” He felt the blood rush to his face, his right fist clenched and ready for action.
The Waterhole Page 9