"I'm certainly ready for that," answered Ensley excitedly, "but I'm a bit nervous as to what I am going to be asked to do."
Sammy lifted his glass and drained it. "I will explain what you need to know. After you have completed the task, we will wire the rest of your money to you. However, if for any reason you decide not to go through with it, we will find someone else and you will not see a further cent. Understood?"
Ensley, a little taken aback, answered, "Understood, but our original deal was the duplication of my access card and the download of the computer's drive. I didn't know about this final requirement!"
Binks looked him in the eye, his voice quiet and unemotional. "I understand, my friend, but unfortunately things change. The organization that I work for has made this requirement and there is nothing I can do about it. Just think of the money, Malcolm. Don't forget, you're already a wanted man!"
Ensley turned away and looked through the window contemplating Sammy's answer. His gaze fell on the aluminum case at Sammy's feet, "What's in the case?" he asked inquisitively.
Binks smiled. "Everything you'll need to complete the task. Finish that beer and let's go to the house."
Ensley drained the final dregs of his draft and stood, arching his back to stretch the muscles. Sammy picked up the case and they made their way out to the vehicle.
There was nobody in the street when the two men arrived at Ensley's rented home. Sammy walked round the car to the trunk and removed the suitcase plus a satellite dish. He appeared relaxed and chatted about Mare del Plata, saying that he had spent some time in the city several years ago. He loved the cuisine, the women, and the beach—he envied Ensley's current position, with its potential for freedom.
Finally, they entered the house. Sammy sat in the sitting room while Ensley grabbed two beers out of the fridge in the kitchen. When Ensley seated himself, Sammy opened the case and revealed a laptop with a special router. He also produced a memory stick from his pocket.
"You will be familiar with everything here. We are going to set up a temporary base to gain control of the SWANC system. As you know, cipher codes and iris scans are required to arm the satellites and missile guidance systems. The iris scan material is located on this stick. All you have to do when the time comes is to enter the details and the coordinates. I will provide the cipher codes in due course."
Binks spoke impassively while Ensley stared at the equipment with large eyes.
"You were able to obtain the actual iris scans and cipher codes?" Ensley asked in awe.
Sammy ignored the question and continued. "You know how this works because you have trained for the potential use of the Cerberus system."
Ensley sat in silence for a moment and stared at Sammy. Eventually he found his voice and said, "You are actually going to use the system to fire on a target? A city?"
Binks remained patient. "Don't be naïve, Malcolm! You surely didn't think we would go to these ends to hijack the system and then not use it?"
"How on earth did you manage to get the scans and cipher codes?" asked Ensley incredulously.
"We do our homework and that's something you don't need to know," replied Sammy, with a hint of irritation.
"What is the target," asked Ensley, somewhat alarmed at the direction this final request was going."
Again, Sammy Binks spoke slowly and concisely. "Malcolm, you must realize your position. You sold us the access card and hard drive knowing about the scan requirements and cipher codes to arm the system—but, you never once mentioned that to me. Did you think our only aim was to gain access to the general system?"
Ensley slipped onto the defensive. "Well, no! I really didn't think about it."
Binks was a little more forthright. "Come on, Malcolm. Fulfill your end of the bargain and you will be paid a handsome sum of money. I will only be able to give you the codes and coordinates directly on the target date."
He tilted his head to one side and stared enquiringly at Ensley.
"If you must know—if you are worried about being responsible for mass destruction of people, the target will be out in the open country."
Ensley visibly relaxed and gave a short nod. "I guess I have nothing to lose, except five million dollars—which I believe I have earned. How long until D-Day?"
Sammy smiled crookedly. "D-Day is July 20. I will be joining you on that day, and my boss will be monitoring your computer remotely."
Again, Ensley simply nodded, making no comment.
"You will have your money ten minutes after the target has been taken out. I must leave now. There is still a lot to be done in preparation for the final moment."
With that Sammy stood and held out his hand. "When it's all over you can choose to live anywhere in the world you want."
Ensley shook his hand and looked grimly at the equipment, "I will set this all up. You can count on me."
Sammy Binks walked toward the door and turned, "Oh, one last thing, Malcolm. Don't think of ducking out on us. We are monitoring your every move!" He turned and walked out the door, closing it behind him.
∞∞
Chapter Sixteen
The Lunar Platform
Tuesday, July 14, 2026
2320 hours
Ian Masters and Darryl Thompson were dozing when the alarm went off. Both men were instantly awake and began checking the Super Shuttle's flight control instruments. There was nothing amiss and they quickly realized that the alarm was standard, indicating their close proximity to the mission's objective. The men looked through the front viewing port at the moon, which was growing in size every few seconds, signaling that it was time to call up Lunar Base Control.
Captain Thompson turned to the lunar frequency and called into his microphone, "Lunar Base Control...this is Captain Thompson, pilot of the Spirit of Victory, requesting permission to dock at the platform. According to our instruments we are approximately five thousand kilometers out from our entry to moon orbit and closing at a speed of four kilometers per second. We will be there in twenty-one minutes. Do you copy?"
After a silence of one full minute, Darryl repeated the request, but to no avail. He turned to Ian Masters and said, "No go, Colonel."
Ian Masters looked grimly out of the viewing port at the approaching moon.
"We'll have to initiate manual docking procedure. It appears that their auto-dock hasn't been turned on. They must have known we were coming so something is definitely wrong. Contact Earth Mission control and ask if they've heard anything."
Darryl called up Earth Mission Control and was told that there had been no contact from the Lunar Base. He called Ken Masters, Ian's brother, at the Bigalow International Space Station. When the BISS Commander came online, he sounded dejected. "Ian, Darryl...nothing from the moon so far. Proceed with caution. You will need to initiate manual docking if their auto-dock has not been turned on."
Ian answered his brother. "We have it all under control, Ken. I'll call you after docking has been completed."
The Super Shuttle, traveling at 15,000 kilometers per hour, had made the journey in twenty-six hours, shaving forty-five hours off the first moon mission flights of the previous century.
Under normal conditions the Lunar Base Control would turn on the auto-dock system that used the latest super computer to control the docking procedure. The space platform was a cylindrical structure comprised of a docking area for spacecraft, attached to a large anteroom with air-lock which allowed astronauts, exiting the elevator, to remove their spacesuits before boarding a docked shuttle. On the side of the structure was a space crane for handling various payloads which was operated from within the pressurized room.
The space crane removed payloads from the holding hooks on the sides of the elevator, redirecting them to an area on the platform for temporary storage. The Super Shuttle's on-board crane would then move the payloads from the platform's temporary storage area to shuttle storage.
The platform, with its own orbital maneuvering system, was tethered by a one-
hundred-mile carbon, nanotube cable to its tethering base on the moon's surface, keeping it in a stable, geostationary orbit. The nanotube cable worked on the counterweight principal, the counterweight being attached at the end of a further cable, extending from the top of the platform and stretching another thirty miles into outer space.
The cable was thus kept under constant tension, accommodating the elevator, for the transport of materials and people.
Ian and Darryl completed the manual docking procedure. The auto-dock system had definitely not been turned on in expectation of their arrival. Something was radically amiss at the Lunar Base.
On entering through the airlock into the anteroom, the two astronauts checked over the platform status and found everything in order. The computer had registered a lost-signal warning, indicating that the technical information regarding the platform's status was being sent, but not received by the Base. The signal had been lost fifty-eight hours prior to their arrival at the platform.
"A lot could have taken place since the loss of that signal," commented Darryl as he looked up at the wall clock above the computer console.
Ian nodded his agreement and picked up the headset microphone, to see if, by chance, he could make contact with the Lunar Base. When his attempt to raise them failed, he set up a three-way communication with the BISS and Earth Mission Control. Three-way conversations were not convened on a regular basis due to the 1.3-second lapse in the signals reaching their relative destinations. The BISS was closer to the moon so the signal arrived fractionally quicker and each speaker had to make allowance for the differences.
Ken Masters, on the BISS, and Brad Iverson, the head of Earth Mission Control, were on hand to receive the call. Ian asked Darryl to retrieve their spacesuits from the shuttle while he consulted with his superiors. He then sat down at the console and opened the conversation. The standard delays followed after each speaker.
"Everything is in order here on the platform. I have tried to raise the Base but to no avail."
Brad Iverson in his customary deep, calm voice, answered, "No contact with Lunar base here either!"
Ken Masters, who had allowed Brad to speak first, chipped in, "Nothing here, Ian. You are clear to continue your investigation and authorized to take any action necessary to stabilize the situation."
Brad then shared a suggestion. "I think it would be expedient for one of you to stay at the platform and the other to make the journey down to the surface. If, God forbid, the person down on the surface is overwhelmed, the other can make a decision to make a rescue or return to Earth."
"We'll bear that in mind, but it may also be an idea for both of us to go down, so that we can watch each other's backs," Ian retorted.
Brad concurred, "I get your drift, Colonel. It's entirely up to you!"
Ken jumped in, showing concern for his brother, "Whatever you decide Ian, just be careful—both of you and that's an order!"
"Yes, sir," exclaimed Ian and Darryl in unison. Ian ended off the conversation and looked at his co-pilot.
"We need to get going, but first I need to enter all this into the log. What is the current time and date?"
Darryl looked at the atomic clock above the console and read off the details, "The date is July 15, 2026, and the time is now 00:50hrs."
After a quick look around, the two men donned their suits for entry into the elevator. They each carried a backpack with tanks, giving them seven hours of oxygen while on the surface. The journey, traveling down the hundred-mile cable to the moon's surface, would take just over three hours.
The elevator was sparsely fitted out with twelve seats, and safety belts, to keep the astronauts tied down during the trip. Ian and Darryl made themselves as comfortable as possible, leaving the backpacks of oxygen tied to a railing provided for that purpose. Similar to the Lunar Base, the elevator compartment was pressurized with its own airlock, allowing astronauts to remove their helmets and breathe air, thus saving their oxygen supplies.
The descent seemed to go quickly for the two men who were engrossed in their own thoughts, not knowing what to expect when they arrived at the Base. Looking through the viewing ports, they could see the surface gradually rising to meet them as a computerized voice blared out a warning that helmets and oxygen life-support were mandatory attire due to the lack of life-supporting atmosphere beyond the confines of the elevator. A minute later the same voice gave warning that the elevator would be docking shortly.
A green "exit" light came on above the airlock. They stepped forward, allowing the inner door to close behind them with a hiss of air. There was a slight depressurizing within the airlock, bringing the pressure to four pounds per square inch, the operating pressure of the suits. Then a green light above the outer door came on and the door opened, exposing them to the barren lunar climate.
Ian glanced up at the chronometer of the HUD, making a mental note of the time—it was 04:25 hours. Both men set the fifty percent oxygen level alarms on the supply tanks knowing that if they did not have the opportunity to refresh the supply by the time the alarms went off, it would be immediately necessary to get back to the elevator. There was a supply closet at the one end of the seating arrangement containing two tanks of oxygen for each astronaut, if required.
Ian was armed with a semi-automatic rifle and Darryl carried a Colt .45 in the right-leg pocket of his suit. The trigger mechanism for each weapon had been modified to allow astronauts to use them with their thicker-than-normal gloves. It seemed strange to them —to be carrying weapons in this remote place, but they both felt a certain foreboding that caused their flesh to creep inside their suits.
The temperature plummeted to minus 180 degrees Celsius and both astronauts were extremely thankful for the LCVG's, worn as undergarments, keeping them warm.
The elevator docking station was built just beyond the sixty-yard perimeter of the main building, adjacent to the storage area, where the gasbags, robotic spares, and vehicles were housed. Ian and Darryl moved cautiously out of the airlock onto the regolith, their eyes searching for any signs of hostility. There appeared to be none so they began to make their way to the Lunar Base building.
Ian focused the twin beams of the suit's built-in flashlight system on the main building and noticed that the outside antenna for EMC contact was partly missing. That would explain the lack of communication from the Lunar Base.
**
A Rude Awakening
Wednesday, July 15, 2026
0230 hours
The following day shift was a day off for Jet so he planned to sleep in and get up a bit later than usual. After the conclusion of the evening's social gathering in the conference room, Jet and Lui had stayed on for a short while after Beth and Commander Miller had left. By that time, Chekov had also departed, leaving Jet, Lui and the same two Robotic Specialists who had been in the gym.
Jet felt a bit more at ease and asked Lui what she thought of the work the Commander had given her.
Lui was guarded in her answer, "I think it very strange that someone would want to jeopardize the program. However, I will do what the Commander has asked."
"Does the thought of doing some spy work frighten you?"
"Yes, very much so, but I understand that it must be done—for everyone's safety," answered Lui tentatively.
Jet looked her in the eye. "I would like you to take a special interest in Colonel Chekov's computer. I just have a funny feeling about that man."
"Yes, he is a strange one! Do you suspect him?"
"I don't want to rush into any judgments. It's just a hunch."
Okay, Jet. I will see what I can find. Colonel Chekov uses the same computer as Colonel Rose. We will see!"
Lui stood to her feet. "I must really get to bed now. I'm back on shift in nine hours."
Jet stood as well, instinctively grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze. "Thank you so much for offering your cooperation."
She smiled and walked away, leaving him staring at her shapely behind. Finally,
Jet left the conference room and headed for bed. His thoughts were all over the map and he knew it was going to be difficult to sleep. After the normal ablutions, he slipped into the sleeping bag, hoping to fall asleep quickly, but he could not calm his mind. Finally, after two hours of unfruitful mental gymnastics, he fell asleep.
It seemed as though he had just slipped into the arms of Morpheus, when a loud knocking awoke him. At first his mind struggled to grasp where the noise was coming from, then after ten seconds he realized that someone was knocking heavily on the door to his compartment. Jet was now instantly awake. The time on his wall clock was 02:30 hours.
He untethered himself, slipped out of the sleeping bag, and moved to the door, pressing the keypad to open it. Standing there, with a look of terror in his eyes, was Timmy Rose.
**
Taking Time to Strategize
Wednesday, July 15, 2026
6:00 p.m.
Jake had left the family home that evening with a feeling of contentment. His relationship with Colleen and Kenny had greatly improved in recent days. He was visiting them much more regularly now, often at Colleen's invitation. She was still a little guarded with her words but they were remembering old times, before Jake's fall from grace, and reminiscing over some of those events.
Jake had not wanted the evening to end, but eventually Kenny was yawning and Colleen expressed the need for sleep before her early rise the next morning, so Jake decided to call it a day and head for his apartment. The old Mercedes coughed and spluttered before starting, belching out a huge plume of smoke as Jake engaged drive and headed out the gate for home.
There had not been an abundance of home rentals available to suit his meager income from the investigation business. Fortunately he had managed to find a small block of apartments on West Lombard Street, not too far from his office. A studio was all he could afford but it suited him just fine as he never saw the neighbors and the landlord did not live on the property. Although it had been a place of refuge after he had separated from Colleen, it never felt like home.
The Helium-3 Conspiracy Page 12