Trappist-1_The Tree of Life

by Todd Fries

  Other scientists would no doubt expand on their work, trying to build miniature examples of a pulsonic amplifier in order to measure any increase in power. Over time they might be able to detect the faintest evidence of energy output and then over longer periods, increase the yield to workable levels. Each new revision would lead them closer to a manufacturable solution and this was the ultimate goal.

  He smiled to himself, but that quickly faded as he re-read the orders on the wall. While nothing had changed for him and his team, he had to wonder what General Taylor had in mind for himself and Lori. This was the topic of conversation and until he made some sort of announcement, the rumor mill would run full speed and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

  For the moment he would wait and work and when the time was right, the new General would approach him in his own good time.

  ALFRED TAYLOR

  Nickolas was shocked when he was given an appointment to meet with General Taylor. He expected to be ignored or given the run-a-round, but instead he was offered a time and date and within a few days was sitting in front of him. When he entered his office, Alfred immediately stood and presented his hand in greeting and with a big smile said:

  “Welcome Nickolas! Please come and have a seat.”

  His cordial salutation wasn’t something he expected and it took a moment for him to adjust. All of his defense mechanisms were at full alert and as he strode to his office that morning, he was preparing for a confrontation and not a friendly meeting. After his first impression, he wasn’t expecting anything more than a menacing and aggressive officer, bent on imposing his will on everyone around him.

  Since his arrival several days ago, Nickolas had noticed more armed guards around the complex and a sense of heightened security in general. Everywhere he turned, he felt as if an occupying force was monitoring base operations and while nobody was being threatened or intimidated, the mere fact they were visible made people uneasy. This combined with the fact that they wore a form of ski-mask to protect their identity. He assumed this was some sort of security measure, but it didn’t sit well with him. Change was normal, but this seemed ominous in its intent.

  Nickolas fully intended to get to the bottom of it and he understood his first impression was just as important. He couldn’t come across as being too aggressive or the General might shut down and refuse to share vital information. So he had to play his cards right and not be too obvious about his intentions. He would see what the General revealed and then probe carefully with some key questions. After greeting him, the General sat.

  “So – What can I do for you today Nickolas? It is Nickolas? Correct?”

  “Yes. Nickolas is just fine. First I want to welcome you to Area 51 and to offer congratulations on your new assignment. If you need any help during the transition, I’m happy to lend my services.”

  “Thank you. I do appreciate it. There’s a lot involved in moving to a new command, but I’ve done it many times. I have a team of specialists on hand to handle the details. It helps to break the tasks into smaller segments and then manage the team as a group. I imagine this was quite a shock for everyone?”

  Nickolas wasn’t sure how to answer, but then figured he could segue into his next question by feeding off the General’s inquiry.

  “I don’t know that we’re shocked by the change in command as much as General Reynolds death. How are things going with the investigation? Do you have a suspect?”

  He purposely asked the question in this manner. Rather than make an overt statement of murder, he would monitor Alfred’s reaction to his veiled accusation.

  “Suspect? You believe there was foul play?”

  Nickolas decided to come clean to some degree.

  “When we arrived, we saw some blood on the back of his head and wondered if he’d been attacked.”

  The General continued to sign some documents as he talked. He didn’t seem the least bit put-off by his line of questioning.

  “As far as I know he died of natural causes.”

  “Did they perform an autopsy?”

  “Unfortunately, the General’s body has already been cremated in preparation for burial.”

  “Can I ask who determined the cause of death?”

  “The base medical examiner. Everything was done according to procedure.”

  Alfred looked up at him, directing his gaze into his eyes and continued.

  “By the way, I wish to express my condolences over the death of your commander and friend. I believe you worked for many years under his direction and I’m sure the loss will be keenly felt. Believe me, if I felt there was any evidence of criminal activity, I would act upon it.”

  Nickolas was unsure how to react. Alfred was so convincing that he couldn’t detect if he was lying or not. If this guy wanted to cover-up a murder, he was certainly in a position to make it happen. With no corpse to examine, any evidence was long gone and unless they could find a murder weapon, there’d be no clues to follow. Nickolas shifted the direction of the conversation.

  “Thank you. There were many people who were very close to Samuel. I’m sure they’d appreciate some sort of memorial or service on his behalf. Do you have anything planned or can I arrange something on behalf of his friends?”

  Alfred seemed to hesitate, then agreed to his proposal.

  “By all means. Plan a memorial. Let me know and I’ll attend as well. I’m sure he would have appreciated it.”

  Nickolas puzzled over his comment. If he didn’t know better, Alfred didn’t have any plans for honoring General Reynolds. Perhaps he wanted to sweep it under the rug with as little notice as possible. Or maybe he’d been too busy to consider it. At any rate, he was glad he brought it up. Now he’d make sure to arrange something fitting for their friend and colleague.

  Nickolas dared to ask about the General’s masked minions.

  “I did have one question before we begin. Why the masks for your security force?”

  The General answered.

  “Security. The general population doesn’t need to know who’s guarding them and it helps prevent socializing with the soldiers. If anyone has any ideas about doing something treasonous, they’ll be less likely to convince one my officers to go along with it. If they don’t know who to trust, it creates another level of security.”

  Before he could respond, the General jumped off topic.

  “I imagine you’re also here to ask about the confiscation of your research?”

  He fully intended to ask Alfred about it, but didn’t expect that he’d bring up the subject first. Nickolas wondered if he was eager to leave the subject of General Reynolds. Perhaps eager enough to jump into a topic that he didn’t really want to cover. He wondered if the General felt the need to distract him from his questions about Samuel. If so, he wouldn’t let it go that easy. He’d re-visit the conversation in a moment. Nickolas responded.

  “Now that you mention it, we were a bit curious.”

  “You understand this base is highly secured. I recovered anything of a sensitive nature for several reasons. First, I need to account for everything under my command and second, I needed time to determine what resources I will continue to use and which will be directed to other tasks. Do you understand?”

  Nickolas understood, but then wondered why Jacob was struck in the head when he reached for his bible. Alfred had been very abusive in his act of recovering sensitive information and had invaded everyone’s privacy. This wasn’t the character of a disciplined officer. Nickolas side stepped the General.

  “Some felt like this was an invasion of their privacy.”

  Alfred stopped and stared at him with piercing eyes.

  “Do I really have to remind you of where you are and who you are? You don’t own those artifacts or that research. There’s no expectation of privacy on this base. To be quite blunt, you have absolutely no rights as individuals. You signed your freedom away when this government decided to take you in and protect you. In my job, I have no time f
or ‘feelings’ when it’s related to national security.”

  General Taylor raised his voice as if to accentuate the point.

  “Do I make myself clear or do I need to re-educate your group?”

  This was the first time the General had referred to his friends as a “group” which meant the General saw them as a separate faction within the facility. Alfred recognized their personal and professional connection. In that moment Nickolas realized this was a strategic mistake on his part. It was now obvious that they were being singled out for some reason, but didn’t know why, but if he had to guess, it was related to SM1. Nickolas pretended to ignore his comment.

  “I didn’t mean to imply anything different. It’s just that some of these people are civilians and don’t comprehend the efficient operation of our military machine.”

  “You’re damn right. They’ve become soft in this desert ‘Shangri-La’ and forgotten where they came from. They have the best of everything, from free food and beverages to your little vacation paradise out back. My predecessor, God rest his soul, was a bit loose when it came to procedure, but that’s about to change.”

  “So you’re saying these people don’t belong here?”

  “No. What I’m saying is that their legacy isn’t an excuse for tossing aside common sense rules and regulations. They aren’t royalty. They can’t simply do what they want, when they want without executive oversight. In my opinion that’s been missing for too long. The inmates have been running the asylum if you know what I mean.”

  Nickolas realized this new commander wasn’t going to run things the same way. If he had objectives, then protocol would dictate his management style. General Reynolds had been a “free-thinker” who allowed for independent thought and creativity, but this guy was a micro-manager, poking his nose into everything.

  In this place, the rules of the outside world didn’t apply. They didn’t call it “Dreamland” for nothing. This base contained the most imaginative people in the world and if his intention was to reign them in like a bunch of soldiers, he was in for a big surprise. These people didn’t react well to limitations. It’s what made this place so productive.

  If one could imagine a spot where all obstacles to productivity were removed, then “Dreamland” was that place. There were almost no restrictions on time, money or equipment. There were no limitations on creative thought. This was the fuel that drove Area 51 to excel and its secret to success. If Alfred couldn’t see that, he was either ignorant or sent here for another purpose. In either case, he was an unstoppable force going up against an immovable object.

  Nickolas chuckled to himself. “Omnipotence syndrome” was a good description of the sickness affecting General Taylor. He probably felt like he had no limits and was capable of realizing any outcome, even if it meant creating square circles. The problem was this place. It also suffered from the same disease, so when he made the analogy of the immovable object, he wasn’t far off in predicting the outcome of the General’s new management style.

  Nickolas responded to his complaint.

  “I get it. These people are undisciplined and lack military finesse, but isn’t that the perfect formula for developing radical advancements in technology? Isn’t that the very nature of progressive thinking?”

  “I guess that depends on the agenda. Doesn’t it?”

  “I suppose. What do you mean?”

  “Nickolas. SM1 is now a military operation. We’ll be adapting our resources to fit our current objectives.”

  “And those are?”

  “Learning to fly it. Outfitting it for reconnaissance and adapting the vehicle to become an offensive weapons platform.”

  Nickolas was stunned. He felt his blood pressure drop and all he wanted was to put his head between his legs, but he couldn’t show any weakness in front of this guy. It suddenly occurred to him that this was indeed an occupying force. The military wanted a decision that favored them and when it became apparent that they weren’t going to get it, they took it by force. It was the only explanation. He struggled with his next words.

  “For what purpose?”

  “What do you mean? What purpose. Hell! We just deployed the Thaad (Terminal High Altitude Area Defense system) in South Korea after North Korea fired a bunch of ballistic missiles last week. The North has become increasingly provocative and we need to reign them in. I want to get up close and personal and you’re going to help me do it. I want that ship ready for a sortie over North Korea within the month.”

  “What do you hope to accomplish on this mission?”

  “That ship can’t be detected by Radar and is invisible when you operate the 360 degree view screen. We can park that thing right next to one of their nuclear facilities and photograph and measure without being detected. If push came to shove, we could insert Special Forces for the purpose of sabotage. There’d be no limit to our capabilities. We could disrupt their military and create confusion in their ranks. They wouldn’t know what the heck was happening. Get my point?”

  Nickolas nodded, but before he could say anything, the General asked him a question.

  “I hear this space craft is nearly indestructible? Made of some sort of super material?”

  Nickolas nodded again, but was unable to speak. The General went on with his manifesto.

  “This is a huge victory for the United States. Imagine what we could do to ISIS. Imagine being able to control conflicts all over the world. The applications are limitless.”

  The man put on a crooked smile and pulled out some orders.

  “Here are your new orders. You’re to report to Major Brooks and begin the process of training him to fly SM1. Give him all the information and don’t leave anything out. You’ll be granted access to the vehicle and flight time within the confines of the base. Do you understand?”

  Nickolas leaned forward and acknowledged him quietly. He took the papers from General Taylor and examined the pages, but he wasn’t able to focus and his mind slipped into mild panic. This was a bit more than he expected. This was exactly what he feared when he took SM1 for his joyride to Mars and Proxima b. How could he have been so stupid as to bring it back here? Now it was in the hands of the military establishment and who knows how they’d use it long term.

  Suddenly the death of General Reynolds paled in comparison to this new set of events. This was now a one-way dialog with a single purpose in mind. Weaponize SM1.

  SM1

  Nickolas felt giddy. It had been months since he had seen SM1, but today he’d be ushered into that hangar and once again he’d be flying that wonderful craft. The last time he saw it, he was being escorted out of the area by an armed guard, and when he turned to gaze at her one last time, the soldier pushed him in the shoulders and told him to keep his eyes forward. It took some effort to get back into General Reynold’s good graces, but at the time he felt so certain of his actions and after a full explanation to the General, which included the gift of physical samples from Mars and Proxima b, he was able to convince him that his intentions had been honorable.

  Anyone else would have thrown him into prison and tossed away the key. But that wasn’t his way. When he described his state of mind to Samuel, he listened without prejudice and never questioned his beliefs. After the incident with Jin and the nuclear bomb, combined with the astounding message translated from the embossed glyphs on the inside wall, he was conflicted. He no longer believed that this vehicle was made by aliens, but was either constructed by Satan or God himself. In the end, he needed more time to consider his options and one thing lead to another and by the time he was done running, he had visited two planets. One in this solar system and another circling a star named Proxima, approximately 4 light years away.

  It was an amazing adventure and through it all he proved that this ship was capable of interstellar flight and a mechanical wonder beyond anything humanly possible. Ultimately, the danger wasn’t found in the ship, but in the people who controlled her. And how true now that General Taylor was in
charge. But there’d be no joy rides today. No matter how he felt about it, he was no longer in control. He wouldn’t be in that ship alone with Major Brooks. They’d have two heavily armed tactical soldiers with orders to shoot if they tried to abscond with SM1.

  As he approached the ship, his two masked companions waited for him to enter first. The first thing he noticed was that someone had strung lights throughout the ship. Wires were strung all along the ceiling and connected to LED lamps along the corridor and into each room. Since there were no cables extending through the main doorway, they must have been running on batteries. It was similar to what they did on the Moon, but in that case everything rested on the floor.

  As he strolled past the rooms in the upper hallway, he could see evidence of all types of human activity. There were sensors, equipment, chairs, and a host of electronic devices scattered about the complex. Since he returned, the science teams were probably working day and night. Each specific project was compartmentalized, so individuals and groups were rotated into and out of the ship on a regular schedule, 24 hours a day - 7 days a week. His test flight with the Major was probably planned long ago and anyone working inside the ship was asked to leave just minutes before his arrival.

  In this manner nobody knew who else was working on SM1 and any knowledge was limited to those people directly involved in the specific research. Everything was on “a-need-to-know” basis, which was standard procedure to protect vital information and prevent accidental or intentional leaks. It was all about security and now it was his turn to make an impact on the project.

  He smiled to himself.

  “You ready boys?”

  Moving out of the main foyer, he stepped through the first door on the left, climbed down the stairs and into the control room where he came face to face with Major Brooks. He reached out his hand.