Oxygen Series Box Set: A Science Fiction Suspense Box Set

by John Olson

  “You’re not Josh Bennett.”

  “True and tautological. If I’m Bob, I can’t be Josh.”

  The guard didn’t crack a smile. He whipped out a cell phone and punched in a number.

  “Is there some problem?”

  “Nobody belongs in here when Josh Bennett ain’t here. That’s my orders.”

  “Where is he, anyway? I came looking for him.”

  The guard pressed the phone to his ear and waited. Finally, he gave up and thumped in another number. Another long wait. “Yeah, hello, Mr. Harrington? This is Officer Sheldon on the night watch in Building 29. We got a situation here I thought you should know about. I’m in Mr. Bennett’s lab, and my orders are that nobody is in here when he isn’t, not even the janitor. He told me I should call him first, and you second, in case of any trouble. There’s a guy in here, claims to be an astronaut. Bob Something.”

  “Kaganovski,” Bob said.

  “Yeah, Kanga-whatever-it-is. That’s what he says, anyway.” Another pause. “Yeah, he’s got his picture ID, and it looks kinda like him.” More waiting. “Okay, I’ll do that.”

  The guard hung up. “I’m supposed to verify your identity on one of those eyeball things, and then you have to call Harrington.”

  Bob walked out of the lab. The guard locked up behind him. Two minutes later, Bob had passed his retinal scan check. The guard left him with a warning.

  Bob whipped out his phone and called Nate.

  It rang once. “Harrington.”

  “Nate, this is Bob. Thanks for calling off the wolves.”

  “Bob, just exactly what were you doing in Josh’s lab? It’s almost eight-thirty.”

  “I was waiting for him. He’s usually in at this hour, and I had a question. Thought he’d gone to the john or something, so I just went in.”

  “His door was unlocked?”

  Bob hesitated. Thin ice here. “I know the combination.” That was true, as far as it went. Except that Josh hadn’t given Bob the combination. Bob had cracked it.

  “I’ll bring that up with Josh. It’s against regulations. What did you want to talk to Josh about?”

  “Oh, the usual. Sports. Women. And how funny it is that one day you can be going to Mars and the next you just up and resign for no good reason. Chitchat like that.”

  “Bob, you know there were some very good reasons.”

  “I haven’t heard one yet.”

  A long silence. Nate sighed. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but you’re part of the reason.”

  “I am? Do I need a stronger deodorant?”

  “You remember that interview you had with the shrinks a couple weeks ago?”

  Bob scratched his head. “The one where I pretty much shot myself in the head? Yeah, I thought for sure they’d put me on the chopping block after that. They didn’t like me.”

  “You’re essential, Bob. Without you, we don’t have a mission.”

  “I’m touched. What’s this have to do with Josh?”

  “You said you’d follow Josh’s orders. No matter what, you’d obey.”

  So I fibbed. Josh told me to tell ‘em what they wanted to hear. “And?”

  “And they went nonlinear over that. Started quacking about loss of critical thinking due to overly strong leadership. Alpha-male psychobabble.”

  Bob closed his eyes and leaned against the wall.

  “Still there, Kaggo?”

  “I’m here. Just thinking.” Like what an idiot I am. Bob felt his heart racing. He’d screwed up. Big time.

  “Can you hold? I’ve got another call.” The line went dead, then immediately came alive again. “Hello, Crystal?”

  “Sorry, my hormones must be acting up. I’m still Bob.”

  “Oops, hold one minute.” The line went dead again.

  Bob waited. Who was Crystal? Not Nate’s secretary, nor his ex-wife. Maybe a daughter? Or maybe ... hmmm. This might be a good time to put two and two together and try to get seven. What was that FBI woman’s name?

  “Hey, Bob, I’m back.”

  “How’s Ms. Yamaguchi doing this evening?”

  “She’s ... fine.” Nate sounded nervous. “How’d you know that was her?”

  You just told me. “I have ways of finding things out.” Bob decided to take another flier while he was hot. Yamaguchi was Japanese, wasn’t she? And FBI. And there had to be some reason for the sudden ramp in security. “So what’s the deal on those Japanese terrorists?”

  Shocked silence. “Kaggo, have you been bugging my office?”

  “No, I’m psychic. All physicists are. We’re in league with Satan.”

  “You’re getting weird, Kaggo.”

  “That happens every time I lose a mission commander for no reason.”

  “It wasn’t my idea.” Nate coughed. “Blame Perez if you have to.”

  Keep rolling. “When are they going to announce Valkerie’s joining the mission?”

  “When she accepts the offer. If she accepts it.”

  If? Bob blinked. Was there a human being on the planet who would think twice about going to Mars?

  “Hello?” Nate said. “Are you there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. I was just wondering if you and Perez quizzed Valkerie at all.”

  “Quizzed her?”

  “On her biases.”

  “Do you know something I don’t know about Valkerie?”

  “You guys are aware she’s a born-again, aren’t you?”

  Nate sighed heavily. “That’s another thing Perez liked about her. It wasn’t the main thing, but you know how Perez is about those idiot protestors.”

  “What about them?”

  “Just think about it for five seconds, Kaggo. Say we go finding a fossil on Mars and it’s a billion years old. And we go to have a press conference. Who do we want breaking the news? Lex Ohta, the atheist? Kennedy Hampton? Neither of them is going to fly.”

  “Josh is Presbyterian.”

  “On paper, yeah, just not in practice. One of the reasons we’ve always liked you for the team is your religion. You’d be our best bet, but no offense, you’re a Catholic, and those protesters aren’t. The pope’s on board with evolution, so the wingnuts are going to discount every word you say. Whereas Valkerie—”

  “Did you ask her about evolution? In so many words?”

  “Perez had our bio guys read all her papers. She does good science.”

  “And you don’t care what she secretly believes in her heart of hearts?”

  “What I care is that she does good science and if she finds life on Mars, she’s going to report it straight up.”

  “You’re certain of that?”

  A long pause. “Certain enough. Listen, it’s been a long day. Any other questions before I go beat my head with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s?”

  “Just one. What was stolen from Energy Systems?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Bob tried to sound surprised. “Oh! So you’re not in the loop on that one?”

  “I’m in the loop, but you’re not supposed—”

  “I’m psychic, remember? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go perform some unspeakably evil rituals with the head of a goat.” Bob hung up and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

  He’d caught Nate off-balance and made some good guesses. Now he had to figure out what it all meant. Bad things were happening. Security didn’t have a handle on it. And Valkerie was a whole new set of unknowns. Nate and Perez had vetted her and decided that her religious views were an asset, not a liability. Perez was a soft thinker, but Nate was a tough-minded coot. If Valkerie was good enough for Nate, she’d have to be good enough for him. Like it or not, she was on the team.

  If she said yes. But who, in their right mind, would turn down Mars?

  On the other hand, with all the security lapses, safety issues, and political machinations, who in their right mind would want to go?

  Bob shook his head, wondering what was wrong with him. Maybe he was crazy,
but he still wanted to go. He still wanted Mars. Wanted it bad.

  Valkerie could have Venus.

  Chapter Nine

  Wednesday, August 29, Year One, 9:00 P.M.

  Valkerie

  VALKERIE WALKED WITH JOSH DOWN a dark corridor. Her body still tingled from their flight. A T-38 Supersonic Trainer. It was amazing. She’d never dreamed anything could move so fast. It was like being shot out of a gun—a gun with a barrel that twisted and turned like a roller coaster. Josh was right. The baby could really “yank and bank.”

  Valkerie walked in silence, listening to the echo of their footsteps against the concrete walls. The Vehicle Assembly Building. She still couldn’t believe they were in Florida. They’d made the trip in less than 100 minutes. And Josh said he could check out a T-38 anytime he wanted. He could fly anywhere in the country with about as much effort as most people exerted driving across Houston.

  “And you really think Lex has a boyfriend in California?”

  “Why else would she log five trips to Moffett Field in one month?”

  “Maybe she likes the weather.”

  Josh snorted. “What? Better than Houston? What could be better than heat and humidity?”

  Valkerie giggled and leaned closer into Josh. She felt happy. Alive—almost light-headed. If it was endorphins from flying, then she had to fly more often.

  “Okay, shut your eyes.” Josh stepped up to a steel door and peered into a retinal scanner. Valkerie stopped and shut her eyes. She heard a faint ping and the hum of a powerful motor. Josh put his hands reassuringly on her shoulders and started to guide her forward. She suppressed the urge to feel her way with her hands. Josh wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.

  “Just a second. Don’t peek.” Josh’s hands slipped off her shoulders and she heard a click followed by a distant buzzing sound. His hands were back in an instant, and he guided her forward again. The sound of their footsteps was swallowed up in a great void. Like the cavern in Mammoth Cave—her last vacation with both of her parents. She squeezed her eyes shut to keep from peeking.

  “Just a little bit more. We’re almost there.” Josh guided her to the right and then pulled her a few steps back. His hands closed gently around her head, stroking her hair back from her eyes. He tilted her head back. “Okay,” he breathed. “Open your eyes.”

  An outline slowly took shape before her, drawing her eyes upward. Higher and higher still, it towered above her, crushing her with its immensity. She felt light-headed, dizzy, as if she were standing at the brink of a great chasm. A cavernous chamber stretched out above her like the night sky. And filling the cavern, a colossal pillar to hold up the heavens, stood an enormous rocket.

  “It’s huge.” Valkerie whispered. “Huge.” Nothing else could be said. Words weren’t adequate.

  Josh leaned into her. “Makes you feel insignificant, doesn’t it?” His voice was hushed. Almost reverent. “And this is only a tiny fraction of the effort we’re expending to send our crew to Mars.”

  Valkerie nodded slowly, still awed by the spectacle that towered above her. “Is this the Ares 10?”

  Josh shook his head. “Ares 9. It’s the launch vehicle for the ERV—Earth Return Vehicle. They’ll launch it a month before the Ares 10. It will take the slow, fuel-efficient trajectory to Mars and orbit there for four years, waiting to take the crew of Ares 14 back to Earth. There’s another one just like it already waiting for you at Mars.”

  “It’s ... it’s mind-boggling.”

  “That’s not all. There’s already a base camp on the surface of Mars. It’s manufacturing fuel and oxygen to use on the return trip. It was launched on yet another ship just like this.”

  “All that for four people.”

  “Valkerie, this is so much bigger than any four men or women. Our hopes, dreams, comforts, fears—they’re all irrelevant. This is the hope of all mankind. The sum of all our dreams. Our future. This determines whether we as a race will stagnate and die or rise up to face the challenge of our potential. To be born anew as a civilization. You and I stand at the crux of all history. The critical pivot point. The future of mankind is ours to decide.”

  Valkerie stared up at the rocket. All this—for four tiny people. And they wanted her to be one of them. Even Josh wanted her to go. It was staggering.

  “Valkerie, you have the chance to change the course of civilization. As much as I’d like to go, I can’t. But you can. You can make the mission work. You can find a reason for us to keep going back. Please tell me you’ll go. Tell me that this—all we’ve worked on for so long—isn’t going to be for nothing.”

  “Okay.” Valkerie’s whisper sounded small and weak in the dwarfing chamber.

  Josh spun her around and held her in front of him, staring at her with penetrating eyes. “I’ll help you, I promise. I’ll train you myself. I’ll be with you every step of the way. Promise me you’ll tell them tomorrow. Promise me.”

  Valkerie nodded, taken aback by his intensity. “I’ll tell Mr. Harrington first thing in the morning. I promise.”

  * * *

  Wednesday, August 29, Year One, midnight

  Bob

  Bob shut the door of his office and locked it. Time to play Sherlock, and he didn’t want anyone thinking he was Professor Moriarty. Technically, this would be illegal. Technically.

  Nate had let the cat out of the bag. Somebody had raided the cookie jar last night. For what? And how’d they get past security? An inside job? Bob shivered. The best security in the world failed when you had insiders.

  He checked his watch. Midnight, Houston time. He needed a drone account someplace where the sun was shining. Maybe Japan?

  He pulled out his phone, punched in his password, and went to his little black book.

  Very good. His password cracker digital agent had seven different accounts on university computers in Japan. The University of Tokyo would do nicely.

  Bob logged in to the machine in Tokyo. It belonged to somebody he didn’t know, a female art student. Tomorrow, she’d lose her account and get grilled by the authorities. They’d quickly discover she had no clue about a hacker break-in at the Johnson Space Center in the United States, and she’d be off the hook.

  Meanwhile, Bob would have the information he needed. Untraceably. It was a shame he had to work this way—especially when the computer he was breaking into couldn’t be more than a few hundred yards away.

  From the Tokyo machine, he telneted into the JSC through a hole in the firewall. Not the official one, but another one Bob had created that nobody knew existed. From here on, everything would be illegal. He sighed. Life wasn’t always simple, even when it was easy.

  In a few seconds, he had linked in to the supply-room database of the Johnson Space Center. He had a theory. If there had been a break-in, Security would have run an audit to figure out what was missing. What had they learned in that audit?

  When he brought up the database, he held his breath and tried the Administrator functions. He had the password, but there might be a digital tripwire, or a keystroke metric. If so, he was playing with fire. He punched in the password slowly with one knuckle to disguise his characteristic typing pattern.

  The Administrator screen came up. He scanned the available functions. Add Users. Delete Users. Change Passwords. Audit Inventory.

  Yes! That one. Bob typed in the Audit command, brought up another screen, and studied it. First do a quick date check and ...

  And the last audit for the ESTL supply room was this morning—the same morning the retinal scanners were added to all the doors. Just as he’d expected.

  Somebody named P.T. Henderson had signed off on the audit.

  Bob typed in the command to show discrepancies and sort the results by date. Obviously, whatever was missing would be at the top of the list. He drummed his fingers on the table while he waited for the results to display. He was walking in a minefield. For all he knew, somebody could be watching activity in the Administrator account right now. They could be
running a traceback to Tokyo. And from there, Houston was just one link. Maybe he should have used a second cutout account. Too late for that now.

  The search results began filling up the display window. Bob scrolled down the list, looking for discrepancies. He scanned all the way down. As he approached the bottom, his gut tightened. What was he looking for, anyway? Fishing expeditions could go on forever. Meanwhile, the sharks could be closing in on him.

  Nothing interesting.

  Bob ran a search to see what other activity P.T. Henderson had logged. Strange. There were only three entries. Had he fouled up? No, the search date went all the way back to 1973. Whoever Henderson was, he had made only three transactions. All today.

  The last record was the audit. Bob checked the first and second records.

  Very early this morning, P.T. Henderson had checked out a couple of NASA Standard Initiators. NSIs for short. Two hours later, he checked them back in again. Minutes later, Henderson had signed off on the audit.

  Quarks and bosons! NSIs were space-rated explosives. You could use them in a vacuum, underwater, anywhere. With those, a battery, and a Radio Shack timer, you had a bomb.

  Bob shut down the telnet session, logged off the Tokyo machine, and scrubbed the password entry from his phone. No fingerprints.

  Who was this Henderson guy, anyway?

  Bob turned to his computer and pulled up the personnel list for the entire Johnson Space Center. He found several Hendersons. None of them had the initials P.T.

  Bob leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes. This couldn’t happen. A nonperson named P.T. Henderson had faked a check-out entry to cover the theft, then restored the missing NSIs, run an audit, and found nothing amiss. A cover-up? Why? Why not raise a fuss and alert the site that there’d been a theft? Notify the press ...

  Right. The one thing NASA didn’t need right now was bad press. Let there be a hint of this in the press, and poof! The Senate subcommittee would be baying for an investigation. Not to get the facts. They didn’t give a rip about facts. They were just looking for an excuse to shut down NASA. Or at least the Ares program.