Legacy eg-6

by David L. Golemon

  The chairman finally sipped his tea. He shook his head, savoring the rich taste, and then he sipped again.

  “You may leave me. The decision has been made. We move on the American spacecraft inside the hour. You may believe the Americans and their Case Blue warnings, but I have lived through their deceit many times before. We have no imminent threat from regions far beyond this planet. Case Blue is a pack of lies. Good day, gentlemen.”

  The two men stood before the chairman without moving. He put the teacup down and raised his eyebrows, wondering why the men weren’t leaving his office.

  “I said you may-”

  The men didn’t react as the chairman suddenly ceased moving. He tilted his head and raised a shaking, liver-spotted right hand to the top button of his tunic. The question on his age-lined face was evident as he tried to make room for more air that seemed to have disappeared.

  The vice chairman reached out and gently, methodically pushed down on the intercom button.

  “Please summon the doctor to the chairman’s office, he seems to be in some distress,” Wang said. He let the button pop free, not waiting for the chairman’s assistant to reply.

  The old man tried to stand, but faltered as he reached out to steady himself. The two men standing before the chairman stepped back to avoid being hit by the liquid. Finally, the old man settled into his large chair and looked up at the general and his vice chairman.

  “You have done many great things for the people,” Wang said. “It is time for you to rest. We thought retirement the best course. Unfortunately, the Western powers would be hesitant to deal with the People’s Republic if you were still alive and angry over your loss of power, so we had to take this to the extreme. It is time we join the league of men who will eventually have to defend this planet from outside forces, and we can’t do that by continuing the old ways.”

  The chairman tried desperately to pop free the topmost button of the tunic. When he found no strength in his fingers, his arms fell to his lap. As they did, the double doors opened and three men ran inside. Two attendants flanked the uniformed army doctor as he hurried to the chairman’s side.

  “I believe the president is having a heart attack,” the general said. He moved to the far side of the room, placing his hands behind his back.

  The army doctor felt the neck for a pulse and then the wrist. The chairman’s eyes were wide open and staring at nothing.

  The general looked to his left as guards came rushing inside.

  “Please secure the vice chairman of the People’s Party. He is as of now the acting president.”

  Wang Zhaoguo stood while two of the guards flanked him just as the doctor straightened and faced the men in the room. Then he looked at his watch, noting the time.

  “The chairman is dead.”

  MOON SITE CODE-NAMED COLUMBUS CIRCLE

  Sarah knew they had a long walk ahead of them, and she had one angry LEM pilot on her hands. Since she was now the mission commander, it had been her duty to inform Jason Ryan that he was no longer a part of the excursion team into Shackleton. His fit lasted three minutes as he tried to stomp his feet in anger, but found he couldn’t find purchase enough in the zero gravity to throw the tantrum in style. Finally, she calmed him enough to make her case as to why he couldn’t come along. He was the only fully trained LEM pilot left, and in order for them to lift off the uppermost decks of Altair, they needed Ryan safe and sound aboard the ship.

  It had taken the strength of Will Mendenhall to help make Ryan see the light of day. As it was, he sat in the command deck of the LEM and started making his checklist for the eventual liftoff of Altair for the rendezvous with Falcon 1.

  The weapons for the excursion into Shackleton were handed out to the seven Green Berets who made up the lunar surface team, plus Mendenhall and Sarah. One of the deadly devices would be left to Ryan for the defense of Altair, in case it was needed. The compressed-air-launched M-39 rocket-assisted projectile weapons were a development of IBC Corporation of Lansing, Michigan. Designed to replace unreliable powder and projectile weapons, including handguns and rifles, the M-39 air-launched a solid kinetic energy shot from its twenty-round magazine, which after it cleared the tungsten barrel became a ballistic assist weapon. A small charge of solid propellant sent the round where it was aimed at six times the speed of sound, allowing the solid metal bullet to penetrate almost anything with up to two inches of armor plate.

  Each member of the crew had become adept at targeting the heavy-bore weapon that was equivalent to a. 50 caliber steel shot. The stock was solid plastic and the barrel was made of hardened steel designed by Winchester Firearms. The trigger was as large as a household tablespoon and the guard was as large as a jar lid so that a large gloved finger could get access to the trigger. The weapon basically looked like an old-fashioned Henry Repeating Rifle from the Old West, which caused the designers at IBC many a sleepless night after every person on the excursion team laughed at the ancient-looking “modern” weapons they were wielding.

  As Sarah looked over her team, she saw Jason poke his head down the access hatch from the command deck. He had his helmet on and was prepared to start placing the first four crewmen into the small airlock on the starboard side of the crew module. He locked eyes with Sarah as he moved past and he nodded his head inside the helmet.

  “I’ll have the fire in the fireplace nice and hot when you get back, and a warm cup of soup ready.”

  Sarah returned the smile as Ryan patted each individual on the backpack, a gesture of good luck. He stopped at Mendenhall, who would egress with the first four soldiers.

  “Don’t let these Green Beret fellas push you around out there,” he said as he half smiled at his friend.

  Mendenhall didn’t say anything in return. He knew Jason was worried about them all and didn’t know how to express it any other way than with a snide remark or a joke.

  “All right, no company while we’re gone-no women, and no booze,” Sarah said and stepped to the rear of the line.

  “You got it, Ma,” Ryan said. He reached out and hit the overly large button for the access port. “First four crewmen of the excursion team, step forward and say status.”

  “Mendenhall, oxygen good, COM good,” Will said, as she slid easily into the compartment.

  “Andrews, O good, COM good.”

  “Johnson, O good, COM good.”

  “Martinez, O good, COM good.”

  Ryan looked one last time at each crew member’s environmental suit and hit the button again. The door hissed closed on its pneumatic track. As Jason stared through the window, he waited until Mendenhall looked up from the front of the small compartment. The black lieutenant raised his chin inside his helmet in a farewell nod, just as if he were going to see Ryan later for a luncheon date. Ryan nodded and made sure he had a good seal. Then he turned the knob beside the portal and purged the oxygen from the compartment.

  “Okay, I want a thumbs-up from each man. Come on,” he said, as he watched the four men.

  Each gave him a thumbs-up.

  ***

  Mendenhall watched as the three Green Berets took up station in a triangular position surrounding Altair. Will stayed pretty much out of the way as he admired the bleak and barren landscape of a place he never in his wildest imagination thought he would set foot on. He moved his legs and felt the resistance of the low gravity. It was just enough that he could feel it though his suit. The weapon he was holding was so light he could very easily forget that he was carrying it. He tried a small hop and was delighted at the height the small effort achieved. He wanted to tell someone, but he felt uncomfortable saying anything to the soldiers around him. He wished Ryan was here. They would have had something to say to each other.

  He turned and watched the second team of four exit the airlock. These were Sampson, Elliott, Tewlewiski, and Demarest. He watched them deploy, further strengthening their perimeter. Sarah soon emerged by herself. Will smiled when she jumped the last three aluminum steps to
the lunar surface. She was heard loud and clear when she laughed.

  “Sorry, I always wanted to do that.”

  Sarah saluted and gestured for her team to join her. One by one the men fell into place, two in front of Sarah and Mendenhall, two in back, two on the flanks, and one in the far rear.

  The lunar excursion element of Dark Star 3 started moving toward Shackleton Crater.

  MUELLER AND SANTIAGO MINING CONCERN, 100 MILES EAST OF QUITO, 2 MILES UNDER ESPOSITO MOUNTAIN

  Jack popped his head into the small tent. Alice was sitting in a small chair and smiled when Collins looked at her. The senator was laying quietly on one of the cots his small group of reinforcements had brought in with the rest of their equipment.

  “How is he?” Jack asked quietly.

  Alice looked from Jack to the sleeping Lee and shook her head negatively, the smile still on her pretty face.

  “Answer the colonel, you mean old woman,” Lee said, as he raised his head and looked around.

  “He’s gone as far as he can go,” Alice said. She shot Lee a dirty look.

  “That’s what she says,” the senator sniped as he sat up on the cot. “Did you find another way in?”

  Jack looked behind himself and entered the tent.

  “We have a six-foot opening at the top of the cave-in. It’s right beneath an archway built by the Germans.”

  “Kind of exquisite proof that they brought the roof down on purpose, wouldn’t you say?” Lee said, as he slowly lay back down, taking Alice’s hand as he did so.

  “We’ll be running a COM line in for Europa, so you’ll know what’s happening at all times,” Collins said.

  “Jack, give me a little time. I can make it up there and come along,” Lee said, this time without rising.

  “I’m going to answer that the way you would have many years ago-you would be a hindrance and could get people hurt. I have to say no.”

  Alice lowered her head as Jack turned away toward the tent’s opening, wishing he could just run from the enclosure. He swallowed the lump in his throat and reached for the tent pole to steady his hand.

  “Colonel, please give me the opportunity to-”

  Without turning, Jack closed his eyes and said what it was he had to say. “I admire you more than any man I have ever known or ever will know. You and Alice have… have become special in my life, and Sarah’s life also. I-”

  “Go do what needs to be done. We’ll be here when you get back. He’ll undoubtedly want a full accounting of what’s over there,” Alice said as Lee rolled to his right side.

  Jack nodded without turning back and left the tent.

  Niles Compton was waiting for him as he exited. He saw the look on Jack’s face and decided to let his conversation with Alice and Lee go unvoiced. Niles watched Jack angrily snatch up his M-16 and start toward the men who were gathering at the base of the cave-in. Niles hesitated only a moment before scratching on the outside of the tent. Instead of calling out, Alice stepped through the opening.

  “How is the senator?” he asked as Alice took a few steps away.

  “Disappointed of course, but I suspect you would know that, since you gave Jack the order not to allow him to enter the second gallery.”

  Niles knew Alice better than anyone other than the senator. He lowered his head as she turned to face him.

  “He won’t last more than a few more hours.”

  Niles, like Jack a few minutes before, tried desperately to swallow the lump in his throat.

  “I meant to get here before Jack, but Charlie accidentally pulled the pin on a hand grenade and I had to help look for it. I never meant for Jack to be the one to tell the senator. He disagrees with my decision.”

  “Of course he does, dear. He’s a soldier, just like Garrison. Jack’s an idealist, whether he wants to admit that or not. You, my dear Niles, are a realist. Jack believes Garrison should be allowed to go out the way he chooses, while you are of the same opinion as Jack. You’re afraid of seeing it happen. The colonel, while not wanting it to happen either, is not afraid of that. Thus you differ. But one thing Garrison and I know for sure.” She placed a hand on Niles’s shoulder and squeezed. “You both care about him beyond measure.”

  “Thank you,” he said, as he placed his hand over hers. “Jack is far stronger than I am when it comes to death, even though the senator would want to go out any other way than the way he is.”

  Niles started walking away and Alice watched him go. As she turned to reenter the tent she couldn’t help but realize the world was changing fast, and she knew it was time for her and Lee to leave it for what it was to become. Her own end was maybe a few years down the road, but Garrison’s was soon, and in the manner he would choose-not her manner, not Niles’s nor even Jack’s, but his way. She would allow Lee that one and only advantage in their relationship. He would go the way he wanted.

  As Jack was on his way to the cave-in, an excited Charlie Ellenshaw came running over.

  “Colonel, you’ve got to see this!”

  “Whoa, Charlie, take it easy,” he said as he was joined by Sebastian and Carl Everett.

  Charlie placed his hands on his knees and tried to get his breathing under control.

  “It’s over there. Pete and I found a building that was out of place underneath that giant outcropping of rock. It looked like it was originally a German Quonset hut, but some modern scientific equipment was inside.”

  “Okay, Charlie, lead the way,” Jack said, as Ellenshaw turned and they followed.

  Just as Ellenshaw said, the Quonset hut was old, but in good shape. As Jack stepped inside he saw Niles, Appleby, Dubois, and Pete Golding standing around a large lab table. Niles stepped back and allowed the three men to see what they had discovered.

  “Well, this is what we were looking for,” Niles said.

  On the table, secured by some stainless steel clamps, was a rifle, but one the likes of which Jack, Everett, and Sebastian had never seen before. It was about three and a half feet long and had a thick barrel of what looked like steel. Just like the pictures from the Moon, there was a crystal installed on the tip. Only this crystal looked to be shattered. The stock of the weapon was broken and was the only thing that told the weapon’s very old age, as none of them recognized the material. There was a sighting aperture and what looked like a magazine.

  “I suspect this thing here,” Appleby said, pointing to the magazine Jack was looking at, “is the power source. It looks like a large battery. This thing must be very heavy.”

  “Look at this,” Ellenshaw said. He was standing in front of a thick rectangle of steel. There was a perfect hole in the center of the plate and it had what looked like a small rivulet of molten material running from it. Jack walked over and looked at the target. He sighted through it and saw that it lined up perfectly with the barrel of the strange weapon.

  “Someone got it to work,” Jack said and stepped back around the steel plate.

  “Yeah, make that past tense. Look at this,” Niles said, pointing out the smashed crystal. “It looks like some kind of overload.”

  “McCabe?” Everett asked.

  “Odds are that it was him or someone he’d been working with. It looks as though this may have been the only weapon they found in this gallery. Hell, maybe the Germans originally found the damn thing.”

  “The thing is, gentlemen, whoever found it got the thing to work.” Appleby stepped up next to Jack and looked through the large hole. “And work impressively.”

  “Colonel?”

  They all turned and saw SAS Captain Mark-Patton standing at the open door.

  “We’ve found a way into the second gallery.”

  ***

  As Jack and the other officers went off to get the search element ready for the incursion into the second gallery, Niles, Pete, Ellenshaw, Appleby, and Dubois remained behind in the makeshift lab set up by McCabe and his benefactors. They found no research paperwork on the weapon that had been tested, but they did find small gra
nules of what looked to be the mineral. After removing the power pack from the receiving unit of the weapon, it was Dubois, the MIT engineer, who discovered the ground-up meteorite dust inside. It was blackened and hard to the touch, but to everyone’s amazement it was still warm months after testing had been completed.

  “The way it’s packed inside this sending unit, it’s just like a battery,” Niles said, as he held the thick magazine-like unit. “These must be conductors of some kind.” His index finger probed two copper wires that protruded from the thickened mass of hardened meteorite dust.

  “I don’t understand how the power is converted to light,” Appleby said while examining the receiver where the magazine was inserted.

  “You know, hanging out with Colonel Collins and Captain Everett of late, I have had a chance on several occasions to examine our own weaponry. The receiver for the M-16 rifle is basically a port. The real magic is in the ammunition. The gun itself is nothing more than the dumbest of tools. In this case,” Ellenshaw said, as he lowered his tall frame to look down the barrel past the smashed crystal, “I would say that this weapon is just as simple as an M-16. It’s the power that makes it special. Introduce a heat source or electrical source to the element inside the receiver and allow the material to be trapped inside, and this trigger releases the built-up energy that’s dying to get out.”

  “I’m not following, Charlie,” Pete said. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and followed Ellenshaw’s example, looking down the barrel.

  “Pete, the crystal that you are looking at is nothing but an amplifier and a lens. Together, they create light. Inside the receiver, once you break it down-which, from the shavings on the tabletop, it appears someone actually did-I believe you will find nothing more than a cooling port, and possibly a small light emitter. That is, you will find a lightbulb. A strong one, to be sure, but basically just a long-life lightbulb. Send power to this light source, a lot of power, and then release it to the only open port available, the barrel end of the weapon. It passes through this crystal, where it is amplified in strength just like the reflector plate on an old-fashioned oil lamp, and pow! You have a handheld laser device capable of doing that,” he said, pointing to the steel plate hanging from the ceiling.