Saucer s-1

by Stephen Coonts

  'That thing is U.S. government property,' Stiborek insisted.

  Rip Cantrell shook his head in amazement. If he didn't know the truth, he would have been tempted to believe the major.

  'Well, tell you how it is,' the redhead replied, obviously amused. I'm not going to waste air arguing about legal title. Details like that are way above my pay grade. We came to look that thing over and that's what we're going to do. Now you sit down, shut up, behave yourself, and we'll get along fine.' He glanced around at the other Americans. 'That goes for all of you.'

  Red turned to the two men behind him, men in short-sleeve white shirts wearing glasses and nerd buckets — pocket protectors. In their arms were cameras and portable computers. They hadn't taken their eyes off the saucer since Rip first saw them. 'There it is,' Red said. 'Have at it.'

  The two scurried forward. They passed Charley Pine and Colonel West, who were being marched back to camp by two of Red's men. Both of the Americans had apparently been relieved of their sidearms. Their holster flaps were open.

  'Professor Soldi?' the redheaded man asked, looking at the archaeologist, who was still sitting in the sand with his pipe.

  'That's right.'

  'Pleased to meet you, sir. My name is Sharkey.' Red reached down and helped the professor to his feet. 'Perhaps you could come with me, sir, and tell me what you have found out about this flying saucer.'

  'How did you know my name?'

  'We did a bit of research before we choppered over, Professor. Never hurts to know the lay of the land, who's in the neighborhood.'

  'The saucer is a valuable archaeological artifact. It belongs to all mankind.'

  'Yes, sir. You are absolutely right. My employer is merely interested in examining it, learning as much as possible about the technology. Obviously time is of the essence. The more you tell us, the sooner we will leave. Then you can go on with your research.'

  'Don't believe him,' Colonel West interjected.

  Soldi looked at West with undisguised antagonism. 'Just what would you like to know, Mr. Sharkey?'

  'Everything you can tell me, sir. Believe me, we have no desire to harm the artifact, steal it, or deprive you of your opportunity to study it for the benefit of science. We couldn't transport it out of here even if we wanted to. We merely wish to learn if there is technology here that we can put to immediate commercial use.'

  'Who is your employer?'

  'I would be indiscreet to name him here and now. Suffice it to say he is a curious industrialist. If his use of technology that we learn about here is illegal, of course the courts will haul him up short.'

  Soldi knocked out his pipe and refilled it. He lit it and took a few puffs as he looked at the civilians with rifles guarding the Air Force officers and enlisted. He glanced at Rip and Dutch, looked again at the saucer.

  'Why not?' Soldi said. 'Everything will come out in a few days anyway.'

  'Professor, I apologize for my confrontational manner when I first arrived,' Colonel West said earnestly. 'still, this is not a time for bruised egos or hurt feelings. This matter affects the national security of our country.'

  'Hardly, Colonel,' Soldi shot back. 'As I explained to you when you first arrived, that saucer is an archaeological treasure belonging to all mankind. It is quite ancient, at least a hundred and thirty thousand years old. Everything we learn about it will be made public as soon as possible. Every human alive is entitled to the benefits of the, technology embodied in that saucer.'

  'You don't know what you are saying,' the colonel protested. 'Civilization is not ready for that kind of knowledge.'

  'That's what the pope told Galileo three and a half centuries ago,' Soldi snarled. 'Poppycock!'

  'Colonel, you are on the losing end of this philosophical disagreement,' Sharkey said lightly. 'Come, Professor.'

  The Aussie put his arm around Soldi's shoulders and gently steered the archaeologist toward the saucer.

  The day grew hot. It was funny, but when he was working, surveying, running the jackhammer or moving the camp, Rip didn't notice the heat. Now, sitting in the shade with nothing to do, he found the desert heat oppressive. It enveloped him, made it difficult to breathe, and he perspired freely.

  So did everyone else sitting there under the watchful eyes of the Aussie's friends. Those worthies didn't look like they had seen a bath or clean clothes in quite a while, but their weapons looked well cared for. Russian-made assault rifles, British army web gear, automatic pistols… they were ready to fight a minor war. Fortunately they didn't point the weapons at anyone. The rifles stayed on their shoulders or across their laps, the pistols stayed in their holsters.

  Still, they stayed alert. A bit of moving around by the Americans seemed to be tolerated, but two or more people moving brought a curt admonishment.

  'Think the prof is telling Sharkey all the secrets?' Rip asked Haagen.

  'He doesn't know any to tell.'

  'He shouldn't have gone off as pals with that guy.' 'That Aussie was going to look at the saucer with or without the prof. Maybe with Soldi there he won't tear up anything.'

  'You are an incurable optimist,' Bill Taggart told Haagen.

  'Don't you start grousing again,' Haagen shot back. 'I'm not in the mood. And another thing… '

  Leaving those two to squabble, Rip moved over to where Charley Pine was sitting. 'Hot day, huh?'

  Pine looked him over, didn't say anything. After a bit, Rip asked, 'What did you think of the saucer?'

  'I don't know what to think. I've been sitting here trying to decide.'

  'It's really old,' Rip offered. 'Yes,' she murmured.

  'Did you see anything wrong with it?' Rip asked softly. 'What do you mean?'

  'Well, we were wondering why it came to end up in that sandstone ledge. Maybe there was a malfunction of some kind. What do you think?'

  'It's possible. We didn't have time to do more than give it a superficial look last night.'

  'I'm sort of curious about what you experts found,' Rip said. 'How does that thing work, anyway?'

  'All I could give you are guesses.'

  'The thing doesn't have wheels on the landing gear. It must take off vertically.'

  Charley Pine looked thoughtful. 'I'd love to fly it someday,' she said.

  'You could figure out what all those levers and things actually do?'

  'That would be the easy part,' Charley Pine replied. 'It's strange, when you think about it, how vastly different cultures arrive at very nearly the same answers to engineering problems. The controls have to give the pilot control. How the systems work, how it's powered, what the controls operate — it will take weeks or months of investigation to answer those questions.'

  'Ever flown a saucer before?' Rip asked matter-of-factly.

  Charley smiled. 'No.'

  'Have you flown many different kinds of planes?'

  'Most of the tactical machines in the Air Force inventory and a half dozen helicopters.'

  'Bet being a test pilot takes a lot of education, huh?'

  'It's a specialized field. I have a masters in aero engineering too. That's why Mike is so testy at times.' A faint smile crossed her lips.

  'I've had a few aero courses myself,' Rip said.

  Charley merely nodded and brushed a loose hair from her forehead.

  Rip gestured toward the saucer. 'Flying that thing couldn't be too hard,' he suggested.

  Charley cocked her head, looked at the saucer as if weighing his comments. 'Shouldn't be all that difficult,' she agreed, 'if all the systems were in working order and we had the manual to study. Everything isn't working, of course. Not a chance in a million.'

  'You're serious? You could fly that thing?' 'No. I couldn't. Not unless we have a crew of Martians check it out, repair it, service it, and sign it off as ready to fly. And I would need to read the manual; I don't fly anything without reading the book.' 'Bummer.'

  'That's one of the really big rules.' 'That's cool,' Rip said. 'Only two small caveats. I like t
hat.'

  Rip tried to envision what it would be like going Warp 7 in the saucer with the controls in your hand.

  'The major there,' he said after a bit, I'll bet he's a pretty good pilot.'

  'He designs planes, he doesn't fly them,' Charley Pine said, a bit vinegary Rip thought.

  He grinned at her. She managed a small grin in return.

  'So why did you get out of the Air Force, anyway?'

  'My being in uniform was driving Mike crazy.'

  'Umm

  'It was time… time to move on. I've landed a job with Lockheed Martin that starts in six months. The Air Force asked me to stay with the UFO team until they can order in someone else.'

  'I see.'

  'Sorry to bore you. My life is a mess.'

  'So exactly what does a UFO investigation team do?'

  'Learn all we can. Write reports. Debunk the myths.'

  'Are there UFOs?'

  'That's classified,' Charley Pine said curtly.

  'Government's been doing UFO stuff for fifty years or so, hasn't it?'

  'About that, I guess.'

  'Seems like they could tell us something, after all that time.'

  'If the authorities chose, perhaps they could.'

  'Must be a lot of flying saucers to justify spending all that money.'

  'There certainly are a lot of people who think they've seen one,' the test pilot admitted.

  'Have you guys got any other flying saucers lying around? Out there in Nevada or somewhere else?'

  Another tiny smile crossed Pine's face. 'Not to my knowledge. Of course, if we did and I told you, I'd have to kill you.'

  Rip smiled easily. 'Maybe we oughta call you Charley Manson.'

  'Just kidding, of course.'

  'You're sorta cute,' Rip told her. 'For an older woman.'

  Charley Pine rubbed at the dirt and sweat mixture on her forehead. Sitting in the desert in front of a flying saucer with an amorous kid! She looked at the Aussie's troops with their big flop hats and their rifles and gritted her teeth.

  Chapter Five

  At lunchtime Bill passed around some freeze-dried fruit sealed in see-through bags. 'This is it?' Rip asked incredulously.

  'I'll eat yours if you don't want it.'

  As they munched, Rip tried to make conversation with Haagen, who was in a dark mood. He got like that sometimes, and Rip usually tried to avoid him unI'll the mood passed. Today he decided to take his chances.

  'What do you think these Air Force types really want, Dutch?'

  'They want the saucer, kid. Believe it. So does the Aussie.'

  'If the Air Force gets it, this will be big back in the States, huh?'

  Haagen ate another piece of dried prune before he answered. 'If the Air Force gets that saucer, you'll never see or hear of it again. The government's position is that saucers don't exist.'

  'That's crazy.'

  'Why do you think the Air Force has UFO teams? I'll tell you — to rush to the site of any "unexplained phenomenon" and explain it away, get everybody calmed down. The people who saw strange things are dismissed as kooks.'

  'But saucers do exist. There one is!' Rip pointed with his head.

  'You know that and I know that, but the powers that be don't want Joe Six-Pack and the Bible thumpers to get all sweaty. My God, kid, where have you been? There are still people in America who think evolution should not be taught in schools. Darwin will rot impressionable little minds, destroy their faith in religion, bring civilization crashing down around our ears, et cetera and so on.'

  'Do you believe that?'

  'Doesn't matter what I believe. What matters is that the bigwigs in the government believe it.'

  Major Stiborek dozed some during the heat of the day. He did it sitting up, with his head back against one of the poles that held up the shade tarp. It didn't look comfortable, but he snored a bit.

  Stiborek awoke when the Aussie, Sharkey, brought Professor Soldi back to the camp and helped himself to some water. After he had a long drink, Soldi grunted at Dutch and Bill, then went into the sleeping tent and lay down on one of the cots.

  Sharkey tried to make conversation with the Air Force officers. He gave that up after a few minutes as a waste of time.

  When Sharkey wandered back toward the saucer, Rip went over to where Stiborek was sitting on one of the camp stools.

  'Captain Pine says you're a pretty good engineer.'

  Stiborek merely grunted. He didn't even look at Rip.

  'Bet a good aeronautical engineer like you has that saucer all figured out, huh?'

  'What do you want, kid?'

  'Just trying to be nice, Major, get acquainted. Let bygones go by the by.'

  'What do you want to know?'

  'How does it work?'

  'Amazingly enough, it burns hydrogen. Cracks water into hydrogen and oxygen in some sort of electrolysis process.'

  'Ever see anything like that?' Rip asked casually.

  'It's an extraordinary engineering triumph.'

  'What holds it up when the hydrogen engines aren't going?'

  'That's the mind-boggling part. It uses a force field of some type to modulate the earth's gravitational field.'

  'Does Charley know that?' Rip asked with a glance at the female pilot, who was sitting at least fifty feet away, well out of earshot.

  'She was there when we discussed all this.'

  'I see.'

  Mike Stiborek frowned, glanced at Charley Pine, then studiously ignored her.

  'Think the reactor is intact?' Rip asked.

  Stiborek laughed. 'You do the dumb kid act very well. Have I told you anything you don't know?'

  'What about the reactor?'

  'We brought a small radiation detector with us, and as near as we can tell, the reactor is still a sealed unit.' Stiborek shrugged. 'Can you believe it? A flying saucer?'

  'Whoever flew it here, why did they leave it?'

  Stiborek took his time before he answered. 'I don't know, kid. I really don't. I don't think the answer is in the saucer. It looks like it was parked there yesterday.'

  'But it wasn't,' Rip replied. 'I dug away most of that rock myself. That's real sandstone.' He took a small piece from a pocket and passed it to Stiborek, who gave it a cursory glance and rubbed it between his fingers.

  When Stiborek passed it back, Rip pocketed the stone, then asked, 'Could Charley fly it?'

  Stiborek laughed. 'Now, I never even thought about that. That woman can fly anything. But, no. There isn't a chance that saucer is airworthy. Or spaceworthy. Whatever. Not a chance in a zillion.'

  'Why?'

  'My God, man. Everything deteriorates over time. Metal crystallizes, dissimilar metals react to each other, corrosion eats on everything… Entropy in a closed system increases over time — that's the second law of thermodynamics. Time has taken a toll on that ship, even if the toll isn't readily apparent to our eyes.'

  'If it could fly, I mean. Could Charley fly it?'

  'Kid — what's your name? Cantrell? Well, Cantrell, if elephants had wings, car windshields would be made of bulletproof glass and it would be dangerous to walk around outside. "If" is the biggest word in the English language.'

  'Okay.'

  'All those systems in working order, after a hundred and thirty thousand years? Whoever made that thing was good, I'll grant you, but not that good.'

  'One hundred forty thousand.'

  'Give or take. What's ten thousand years among friends?' Stiborek picked up a small rock and tossed it a few feet. After a bit he added, 'The reactor is the critical unit.'

  Rip looked puzzled. 'You said you guys checked the reactor. Isn't that a radiation counter there?' Rip pointed to a small battery-operated device lying on the sand near Stiborek's feet.

  'I made a cursory check,' Stiborek acknowledged, 'with a battery-operated unit that is used only to ensure personnel safety. We found only background radiation. Which proves nothing.'

  'At least — ' Rip began.


  'Insulation — that ship probably has several hundred thousand miles of wire in it. If the insulation has come off a wire in just one place, you got a short, maybe a fire.'

  'The insulation looked okay to me,' Rip murmured. 'In the places I could see.'

  'Kid, you don't know what you're talking about. Let's look at one more example, just one. If you try to fire off that reactor and something critical breaks, that ship will melt down. If there is no explosion — and there might be — the whole ship will dissolve into a puddle of molten-hot radioactive goo. You won't care because you'll have already been fried.'

  Stiborek tossed another pebble. 'Anybody who tries to fly that thing has found a flashy way to commit suicide.'

  'Just thought I'd ask. A theoretical question.'

  'Go away, kid. Leave me alone.'

  'How come you and Charley are on the outs?'

  Stiborek frowned. 'Did she say we are?'

  'Oh, come on! Give me a break. I've got a mother and a sister and have even had a couple girlfriends through the years.'

  Stiborek looked glum. 'She's going to move to Georgia, be a test pilot for Lockheed Martin. I tried to talk her out of it, but she's made up her mind, she says.'

  'Does she have a reason?'

  'Says this UFO team is a career dead end.'

  'Maybe it used to be, but it isn't anymore. You two are about to become famous.'

  Stiborek made a rude noise, then picked up another rock and threw it out into the desert.

  In late afternoon Sharkey left his experts in the saucer and settled in to interrogate the Air Force officers in the sleeping tent. Colonel West was his first victim.

  West was still in there when the sun set. Dutch passed around cold food to his people and the Air Force crowd.

  The Aussie's men ate food from a cooler they carried from one of the helicopters, which hadn't moved all day.

  When Red Sharkey finished with Colonel West, he sent for Major Stiborek.

  Darkness came quickly in the desert. Rip went around lighting the lanterns, checking that they had enough propane.

  A small breeze came up, easing the heat of the day.

  Most of Sharkey's troops were gathered around their choppers, eating and talking loudly and laughing, when Rip rooted in his bags for his passport and wallet. Then he made his usual pilgrimage to the portable outhouse. He kept the door cracked while he did his business, watched the two Aussies with guns across their laps sitting outside the tent. They weren't looking in this direction.