by Scott Rhine
PJ stuttered, “That’s…not so bad. I was worried you were going to confess to being a Chinese agent or something. If I didn’t care enough to ask you before we… I have no right to get mad at you afterward. You are who you are.”
“I slept with Braithwaite,” she blurted.
The cold knife of reality cut his spine. He couldn’t move, couldn’t focus. Amy could see the betrayal in his face. “He was so charming, such a champion of the underdog. It started as hero worship. We worked late so often, and his family is in Colorado.”
His face was numb. “He’s married?”
“Yes, I was his mistress. That’s why I trusted him so much, but I haven’t slept with him in months.”
PJ concentrated on his next breath. “I’m going to need a few minutes.”
“You hate me. God, I’ve screwed this up so badly. Don’t just sit there staring at the wall. Call me a bitch, shout, do something!”
“Did he want you to go with him when he left the bunker?” PJ asked.
“Yes, he mentioned that during the interrogation, but…”
PJ laid a finger on her lips. “Then you made a choice. You chose me, even though it meant imprisonment and probably death.” She nodded slowly. “Then I have nothing to complain about. I meant what I said. I just need a few minutes to adjust.”
She stared at his pale face in wonder.
He shed a few tears of his own and finally admitted, “Amy, you could be pregnant with his child, and I’d still want you.” She grabbed him tightly, and the crying changed tenor into relief. He flopped a clumsy arm over her.
They held each other in silence till around 3:00 a.m. At long last, he said, “If we make it through this, Amy, nothing’s going to break us.” PJ still had the long stare, but he was talking.
Unable to bear any more suspense, she said, “Let’s head to the control room to watch the last hour of Phoenix’s approach pattern.” It was only when they tried to get past the guards Buzz had posted at the doors that PJ discovered that his new badge was gone.
****
When Benny told Jez about his encounter with the phantom FBI agent, she said, “That’s incredibly exciting if we survive.”
She called everyone. When Crusader didn’t answer, Benny told her about the upcoming funerals.
“Sedna got what she wanted,” Jez said at last.
When she reached Fortune, the billionaire said, “We’ve done everything we can, Butterfly. It’s in God’s hands now.”
“Who is it?” she heard a sleepy Claudette say.
Smiling, Jez told him, “Go back to your wife. Tonight’s my turn to watch and see what God does.” She sent orders to all observatories to prepare to film at the highest speed and resolution possible in every part of the spectrum.
She explained to Benny, “For science to study and history to remember.”
“And if we fail?”
“For archaeology and for another culture to heed as a warning.”
By half past three, most of the extended Ladder project was awake and watching the skies. The press wouldn’t stop taking pictures of the rescued Jezebel. When they asked her for a statement, she rubbed her butterfly to watch the Out of Body messengers frantically popping around the complex. “Soon.”
Chapter 54 – The Beginning of an Era
The shuttle approach was simultaneously agonizing and dazzling. Phoenix flew in from above the satellite, where the defenses were least sensitive. The video feed and tracking data filled an entire wall of the command center. Off to one side, they could see the disk of the Earth, with the glow of dawn crawling over the farthest ocean. At first, the hundred-meter Icarus field appeared as a warped pool of stars. Points of light moved across the odd little patch like people passing by a fish-eye lens. The field behaved in part like a giant, spherical prism. The thunderstorm off the California coast was truly eerie to watch. Nobody in the room spoke, except for an occasional reassurance or minor course correction. All of them were hypnotized by the beast that threatened to kill the planet. It was gorgeous. Poisonous snakes were often the prettiest.
“This is the trickiest part of the flight plan,” Buzz explained. “Phoenix only has a very narrow window of speeds and trajectories that would allow it to get into position to use the tripod by 4:00 a.m.”
Only a moment after the ship passed the Icarus field, communications began to experience difficulties. The technicians said it had nothing to do with the satellite.
Buzz demanded, “Who’s doing it?!”
“We can’t be certain, sir. It could be sabotage, or a defect in any one of a dozen components. There are at least a dozen news trucks that could be hiding jamming gear and a few helicopters close enough to use ELINT,” said the closest man with a headset.
After a few moments of experimenting, he said, “We seem to be receiving just fine, but Quan is not reporting reception of our signal. The problem could even be at their end. Phoenix will have to navigate the window on its own.”
The crew worked together as a team under pressure, each member performing his function flawlessly.
“Never mind how we’re being jammed,” said Buzz. “I need to know why.”
A woman at another console announced, “NORAD confirms multiple launches. Repeat, missiles launched from the South China Sea. Analyzing for target.”
Buzz turned red. “We know the target. Rick, find out how long till the missiles get there. Bronson, get these civilians out of here!”
Amy let herself be escorted out. PJ hung around, riveted to the screen.
“If those missiles are Chinese, they probably won’t have the capability to go orbital,” said Halsey, an analyst.
“It doesn’t matter. As long as the Star Wars system wants to shoot it down, and the Phoenix shuttle is in between, our crew is dead,” PJ commented. One or two people glared at him but Buzz had adopted him. He had a point, so they stayed quiet.
Buzz turned pale. “Sneaky SOBs. Phoenix can’t even dodge fast, or that would trigger the defenses. Halsey, get me the intercept point where the laser will take out the missiles, then draw a ten degree cone of safety around it.”
“Negative, that would place Phoenix outside the deflection zone.”
Casey, a woman on the communications board, said, “No confirmation from Brazil, either. Our transmissions are being jammed.”
Rick, the analyst, spoke up. “The defenses will start shooting within twenty-five minutes.”
“So we wait till the missiles are gone and move Phoenix back in,” said Buzz.
Several people at consoles shook their heads.
“My calculations show them either running out of air if we try that,” said one.
“Mine show them hitting the atmospheric drag during EVA,” said Rick. This was like a game of foosball with five sides. PJ’s neck was getting sore from the rapid turning.
“The jamming transmitter isn’t in any of the trucks along the beach, or the helicopters. It’s coming from inside,” said Casey.
“Would this be a good time to mention that I recently lost my access badge?” PJ whispered to Buzz.
“You what?! Mister, around here, I fire people for stunts like that,” he replied. “When I get ten minutes to breathe, I’m going to tear you a new one. For now, just consider yourself reamed.”
“Yes, sir!”
Alarms sounded faintly in the background.
“What have we still got in the Asian rim?”
“A few submarines, just in case.”
“Our missiles wouldn’t be fast or smart enough to catch these birds.”
“The interference is coming from inside this building, sir—the main computer room,” announced Casey.
Her news was trumped by the next bulletin. “One of the missiles has diverted to the coast of Taiwan.” One of the big-screen monitors flipped to a land-sat view of the Chinese coast.
“That’s a US ally; the satellite is bound to respond even quicker,” said Rick.
PJ shouted, “So we
have our ships fire on a US base!” Every head in the room turned toward him. “If the anti-missile device has a priority scheme, it will protect immediate threats to a US installation first. We just fire the missiles far enough away from the Chinese, and Phoenix will have its window.”
Bronson considered it. “Six to ten missiles per submarine, fired at one-minute intervals toward Okinawa, Hawaii, or Alaska. That might give just enough time.”
“I’ll call Gabriel.” Less then five minutes later, Buzz announced, “The wheels are in motion; we have fast track to launch. Smith, you’re re-hired. Take one of these walkie-talkies and get your ass down to the computer room with the others to find out what the hell is going on.”
“Yes, sir,” PJ said, seizing his chance to be useful again. He ran after Bronson.
They jogged the short distance to the computer room. Once inside, Bronson literally tripped over the smoking gun, a suction-cup device used to move floor tiles. They had no idea which section had been tampered with, so someone had to play gopher. Since PJ was the skinniest and had been down there recently, he was elected.
Bronson handed him a flashlight and clapped him on the back as he began his sub-floor spelunking expedition. The air coming out was arctic. “Be careful. We’ve already had one man electrocuted in here today.”
The crew of the Phoenix had gathered in the cargo bay to begin the extravehicular exercise. It sounded like preparations would take a few more minutes, so they had a fighting chance. Bronson had tuned their radios to the control room so that, as time got tighter, they could stay informed of the Phoenix’s activities. However, due to the jamming, the radios didn’t work inside the lab.
Crawling through innumerable tangles and over several exposed power outlets, PJ did everything possible to avoid inflicting more damage to the lab, but the equipment under the floor was so densely packed, it grabbed at his clothing. After fumbling through half the floor, PJ caught his pant leg on something while wriggling between a beam and a junction box. While freeing himself, he spotted light leaking in from behind the rack of scramblers. The tile hadn’t been properly replaced! Mere feet away, he saw it—a hockey puck, just like the one Elroy had used.
“Bronson, did the spooks come back to visit?” he asked through the floor.
“While you were in the chapel. They’re around somewhere. Why?”
PJ reached his arm to full extension and snatched the offending device. The second he switched it off, someone on the radio shouted, “Freeze!” and a gunshot tore through the air.
PJ smashed his watch face popping up out of the crawlspace. The display went blank.
They all heard Mr. Spacely’s voice scream, “My leg!”
PJ’s hands were shaking too much to put the tiles back in their rightful places. Two guards nodded to him and took over. He needed to sit down when he heard Nick say, “Shut up, or I’ll aim higher next time.”
His badge had resurfaced.
Bronson was already in motion, running down the hallway. PJ snapped out of his trance and followed. For the second time today, they had a hostage situation. “You’ll never get away,” Spacely muttered. “This place will be swarming with snipers in minutes.”
From the mission Control room, in a voice that told PJ how little remained of his old friend, Nick said, “Like one farmer said to the other: I don’t need to out-run the bear; I just need to out-run you.”
Bell, the shrink, tried to soothe him and get him to talk while the scramblers power-cycled again. They would have the capability to contact Phoenix in a matter of seconds. Crupkin was radioing Control to coordinate the placement of the tripod, but no one was allowed to respond yet.
Bell had Nick talking, but he wasn’t saying anything encouraging. “It’s not your problem, lady.”
“If you tell us what your problem is, maybe we could be of some assistance.”
Nick laughed. “They want this thing to crash. They want the incident. Spacely here was paid off.”
The spook started to deny this, but Nick wouldn’t allow it. He pulled the trigger again. From the sounds of the screams, it was another kneecap. “The truth!”
“Yes, I took the money!”
Transmitters were green, but the Control room was paralyzed. Phoenix had successfully aligned the tripod and was waiting for word from them.
Bronson turned down the volume and whispered. “All right, guys, how do we take this fruitcake out?”
“Why do we need to?” PJ asked hollowly. His hope and compassion were nearly exhausted. “He’s thinning the local rodent population.”
They had reached Buzz’s office, which had a commanding view of the hostage situation if one peeked between the Venetian blinds. When Phoenix tried to move forward with the tripod array, the computer attached to the third telescope crashed. It couldn’t handle the load. The shuttle needed Control to keep the device on target. Rick announced that US countermeasures were almost exhausted and the Chinese missiles would be drawing fire within twelve minutes.
Bell negotiated, manipulated, and begged, but could gain no ground against Nick’s raving. Bronson asked, “Reggie, could you hit him from here?”
The guard next to him shook his head. “Too many people, too much equipment and distance between us.”
“What the hell does this guy want?”
PJ spoke up. “I know this guy, or I did. He’s in it for the revenge. Nick will take it outside if you let him.”
“Christ, do you make it a business to know every psycho in the state?”
Hoping to save the lives of a few billion strangers, PJ said, “Offer him an infirmary nearby. Tell him they have sulfur and rubber hoses. He’ll deal.”
Even the most hardcore guard in the group moved away from him for suggesting they help Nick torture this man. “It goes against everything that my parents taught me, but I want to live.” Besides, Spacely had worked Nick over for hours, and a few minutes of payback didn’t seem out of line. When Buzz balked, PJ pressed, “You’ve got to choose: one traitor or the Phoenix. If the Phoenix goes, we all do.”
“What are you talking about?” asked one guard.
“Do it,” Buzz ordered.
Bronson said to PJ, “You stay here and talk to the nut. Give us a minute head start. Direct him through the south corridor. That will give us a shot. As soon as he’s out, Control can lock down and finish the mission.”
Soon, PJ was alone. After sixty seconds of self-loathing, he opened the blinds. Nick blew a hole in the window as his friend jumped to the side. Over the intercom, he said, “Nick, it’s me.”
“Go away; I’m busy.”
“I want to help.”
Nick shook his head. “It’s all over but the screaming. You can’t stop the sky from falling, but you can have a good time while it does.”
PJ swallowed hard and clenched a webbed chair back to steady his voice. “That’s what I’m trying to help you with. I found a place you might like to visit. It has scalpels, syringes, and a whole lot of interesting drugs for you to use on that lab rat.”
His face changed; beatific satisfaction stretched his features. With a smile, he pointed to two people in the crowd. “You and you, put this garbage on a roller chair and push him to the infirmary. We’ll go out that door,” Nick said pointing north.
Without sounding too eager, PJ said, “But the map up here says the other way is shorter.”
“Thanks, I’ve been in this spider web before.”
PJ radioed Bronson, but he didn’t have time to move his men into a new position.
The second Nick was gone from the room, people barred the Control room doors and Buzz was on the line to Phoenix. They had about ten minutes till the fireworks were scheduled to start. Quan stayed with the device and ordered the Phoenix away at the maximum, safe, burn rate.
There were more gunshots in the halls. Reports the guards gave Buzz over his headset said that Nick had made it to the infirmary with his hostage. Once at his destination, Nick let his helpers go. However, s
everal people had been injured in the impromptu raid, and now there was nowhere nearby for them to be treated. Thankfully, they couldn’t hear the screams from the Control room. Buzz ignored security as they made plans for another siege.
Quan, with help from NASA navigation networks, steered the tripod on a slow, steady course to the point of ignition. When they reached the five-minute mark, Buzz ordered Quan to pull out and let the automatics take it the rest of the way.
PJ sat in the office chair, a mute observer.
“That’s a negative,” said Quan. “The auto-alignment doesn’t work on the third leg. It has older firmware than the other two. Whenever I let it go, it drifts. This is going to have to be finished on manual.”
The room was silent for a moment, in reverence. Commander Quan was going to guide the ice personally to allow the others the chance to escape. He was going to sacrifice himself. Buzz spoke again at last, “Roger. It’s been an honor, sir. Any last requests?”
“Yeah,” Quan said, hoarsely. “Name a planet after me.”
****
“Record now!” Jez shouted on her phone to the linked observatories. “Australia, you focus on the Eye in the Sky. Look for voids. Everyone else on the Evil Eye”
To the press gathered before her on the roadway, she said through a microphone, “If I may draw your attention to the sky.”
****
The satellite turned to target the next threat from the planet below. Quan triggered his jet pack to push the ice into the Icarus field. The chain reaction converted him and the ice into a focused stream of particles.
As the energies he unleashed pushed the dangerous satellite into deep space, the sky lit up with a color that had never been seen before.
Chapter 55 – Aftermath
PJ was sitting out on the beach when Amy found him. Journalists everywhere were talking about the first test of the new Reuter-Cassavettis star drive. Highly-placed NASA sources said that more experiments were already in the works. The interstellar age had begun for mankind.