AMERICA ONE - NextGen II (Book 6)

by T I WADE

  Once everything was in place, the rear thrusters ignited and the flotilla of spacecraft continued on their journey towards Earth.

  Chapter 6

  Australia, Here We Come

  Commander Roo had not been happy about the change of plan. He had been told explicitly by Ryan to head down to the surface of Earth with Mars Noble, and Roo took his orders very seriously.

  He refused to have his orders changed, and that brought Mars Noble back inside SB-III to take command of the situation.

  Roo was adamant about following orders. Who was this young kid to give him orders? He was a commander and Mars Noble only a captain after all. It was, funnily enough, Captain Pete who agreed with Roo, explaining to Mars that after all, orders were orders. Mars was now a man, and Captain Pete was his mentor. He wasn’t going to argue, so Commander Roo was going to head down. That ended the argument, but Saturn Jones knew what to do.

  Since her man was back in the co-pilot’s seat, she spent a few hours chatting with Roo. He and Mars returned to the Matt craft as ordered by Ryan six months earlier, and an hour later they all headed straight in fast and entered into their first orbit of Earth, a pretty high orbit at 5,000 miles.

  “I see space items through the laser camera,” shouted Penelope Pitt a day later while completing their fifth orbit. The heavens seemed clear, but all three laser gunners were still at the ready. Everybody remembered the previous vicious attacks by the cubes when they were kids.

  One or two faint blips had appeared on all their radar screens but only during certain parts of their orbits.

  “I see one blue shield orbiting Earth,” continued Penelope Pitt, now flying SB-II in the lead next to the Matt craft which had its shield already extended. “There is one other blip on my screen. I see it, and the other radar contact. I’m adjusting the laser locking device onto it. Yes, there is another blue shield. We have two up here, which means that there are no cubes in orbit. There can’t be.”

  “Crew of Astermine to Australia, do you copy? Over,” stated Saturn Jones into her radio mike. The reply was fast. They had been noticed.

  “G’day, Astermine. I need to get my boss. Glad to hear you guys have returned, out.”

  The reply was rather blunt, but Captain Pete told Saturn in the cockpit that it was usual. They waited half an orbit before the radios blared out a new message. That made them jump, as Australia was on the other side of the planet, and that meant only one thing: there were communications out in space. The others began searching the radar screens for any other blips at higher altitudes.

  “Astermine, good to hear you guys are back. We have been waiting years for your return. Your new home is at the following coordinates… 20 miles off the northeastern Australian coastline. There is a 10,000-foot airstrip, 30 feet wide, ready for you. Your new base has all the electronics and radio beacons you might need to land. Within 24 hours, we can have the base restocked with fresh produce, and we are issuing orders that no one is to visit until you invite us. Is Ryan there? This is John Soames, President of the Australasian government, and I would like to welcome him home.”

  “Negative. The boss is on the next flight. This is just the first group of craft returning,” replied Saturn. “It seems there is no welcoming committee up here? Over.”

  “No, great news, your attack ships have defended space perfectly since you left. The Chinese managed to hit one of your spacecraft with a nuke, one of the last they sent up. We believe that the nuclear-armed countries have used up most of their missiles trying to get those spaceships of yours, only hitting one. Ryan will be surprised to learn that he has virtually emptied this planet of all nukes and cubes, and the world is a far safer place than when you left. We count six craft returning, over.”

  “How did they see all six craft?” Saturn asked over the intercom.

  “I think I see something on radar,” replied Penelope Pitt, also using the intercom and not the radio. “Yes, there it is. I thought I saw something hours ago. I see another, there is a second one. The computer is telling me 22,500 miles altitude. There is one over central Australia and one over the Mediterranean, somewhere above Egypt or Israel.”

  “There’s a third,” added Pluto Jane Saunders, co-pilot in SB-II. “It is right over the United States. Somebody seems to have satellites in space. I just thought the blip was radar shadows or something.”

  “This is Lunar Richmond, Ryan’s eldest daughter, in command of one of our arriving spaceships. It seems somebody has new satellites up here, Mr. Soames.”

  The Australasian Prime Minister went on to explain to the returning astronauts that the Australians, Israelis and the Canadians had recently launched new satellites, and once again planet Earth had 360-degree communications 24/7.

  What surprised Captain Pete was that John Soames told them that the new satellites had recorded the incoming craft about 200,000 miles out, and that seemed on the border when the kids had found him. It seemed that he and Nancy would have had somebody to talk to on the radio if the Nextgeners hadn’t found them first. Of course, whether anybody on Earth had a spacecraft to come and fetch them was another matter.

  The entire crew listened in as John Soames told them that planet Earth was a sort of peaceful planet once again, but that didn’t satisfy Mars Noble or Commander Roo.

  “Commander Lunar Richmond, I think it better that Captain Pete takes my place and descends to Earth with Captain Noble. I also don’t trust what the man is saying, like Commander Ryan suggested,” stated the lead Matt over the intercom. With only a range of several hundred miles at maximum, nobody should be able to hear them. Saturn smiled, but said nothing. Her talk of danger going down there to Roo had worked. He was not a warlike person.

  Over the next few hours, Captain Pete spacewalked again. The small Matt shook the captain’s hand halfway along the cord stretched between the two craft, and both men continued in their opposite directions.

  “Mars darling, Captain Pete has Boris’s Taser devices, and Allen’s .44 Magnum, just in case,” stated Saturn as she watched the captain reach the other craft 100 feet away.

  “Keep your love notes to yourselves, SB-III. Keep your intercom work professional,” admonished Lunar Richmond from SB-I. Saturn smiled again and confirmed that she had copied the order. Poor Lunar was more pissed off than the others that Saturn carried Mars’ baby. Up to then, Lunar had hoped she could sweep the man away from her adversary.

  “America One to Bob Mathews, bridge of America One to Bob Mathews, do you copy? Over.” stated Captain Pete twelve hours later. Lunar had accepted the Australian offer to refresh the produce at their new home. That would take 24 hours and nobody was heading down until Bob Mathews told them it was safe.

  It took several calls, and only when they were directly over their new base did he get a response.

  “Pete, Pete, reading you clearly now. You must be directly overhead. I don’t see any big glinting spaceship up there. Is that really you, Pete?”

  “Three Marlin, two Barracuda, one Stingray, over,” stated Pete, reading the line from the computer readout made up between Jonesy and Bob before they had left.

  “Yes, I remember. Three King Mackerel, two Dorado, one fat Wahoo and a jolly old good time. I think that is what I was supposed to say. I am getting old, Pete. Will be a year closer to seventy next month, over.”

  “Only you and Jonesy could have put that lousy rhyme together, Bob. How are you and the girls?”

  “We three are still fine, healthy and happy fishing our lives away. I didn’t catch if you have spoken to Australia yet, but speak to John Soames. He is the new leader of the free world, and whatever he tells you is truth. There are three satellites up there. Australia is a great place for you guys, as is the island accommodation the girls and I put together for you six years ago. Do you still need the runway, or are you guys able to do what you did when you left the last time? Over.”

  “We have progressed since then, as usual extremely well-armed and ready to take on the whole
world if need be. We’ve experienced weapons on Mars that could crack this planet in two with one shot, so we are ready. Bob, Ryan stated that we need to get certain answers from you if you were under duress or something and being forced to say good things to bring us down. Please say the five answers to the five words I give you. As you know, the world is listening in to this conversation. Each one of the five words with the best answer gives us an accurate idea of what to expect, over.”

  “Go ahead, Pete, I’m ready.”

  “Peace?”

  “Five,” replied Bob.

  “Health?”

  “Four.”

  “Trust?”

  “Four.”

  “Safety?”

  “Five.”

  “Truth?”

  “Four.”

  “Thanks, Bob. How far are you from our new home?”

  “Oh! About 17 hours on a fast cruise. Beth, take in the lines. We are heading for the island. Sorry, Pete. We’ll be there in, say, 20 hours, tied up and on the airfield waiting for you, over.”

  “Copy that, Bob. There is only one craft coming down. I will be aboard. I want to see only three people on the runway, you guys, no more. I don’t want to see anybody else. Prime Minister Soames gave me his word, over.”

  “If he gave you his word, that is good enough for me, buddy. See you in 20. Out,” replied Bob Mathews.

  “So, Captain Pete, tell us all those answers. Nobody knows what you two were yakking about,” asked Lunar Richmond over the intercom.

  “Lunar, Mars, I, or whoever was in control of the bridge on America One would have been prompted by the computers to ask Bob those questions. They were hidden away on all your computers and Bob’s radio voice should have activated all your computers on what to ask. I just knew them by heart. Check your Return to Earth file, Lunar.”

  “Ok, the questions and answers are staring me in the face. I see them on my screen now. The answers were all one to five. What does fours mean?”

  “I think that Bob Mathews doesn’t like politicians, any of them. His health is not what it used to be, and it is safe and peaceful down there, over.”

  Twenty four hours later, Mars Noble hovered the Matt craft at 10,000 feet directly above the runway below them. As they descended inside the blue shield, and it was his first real atmosphere reentry, they could see the three spectators once they reached 5,000 feet.

  “That you down there, Bob?” asked Captain Pete, using a handheld radio.

  “G’day, Pete. Affirmative, old buddy. You flying that soap bubble, or do you have Jonesy or Maggie as your chauffeur?”

  “A young kid. You’ll meet him once we land. Still fives and fours down there?”

  “Affirmative, still fives and fours across the board. I didn’t think Ryan would make you guys go through all this protection crap, but I suppose being away for so long makes one uneasy.”

  “Roger that, and remember all our last returns. Nobody loved us then either,” replied Captain Pete. “Mars, take her down.”

  “You got that kid Mars Noble flying you around? What happened, Pete? Too old to fly, old man? The kid was knee-high to a grasshopper last time I saw him.”

  “Captain Mars Noble to you, Colonel Mathews, sir, and we are descending, over,” smiled Mars as he was handed the radio and continued their descent.

  “At least somebody up there has taught the NextGens some manners. Kid, place her about 50 feet from the forward hangar. It is hot, damn hot down here, and we have automated systems to wheel her into the shade, over.”

  “Wheels. Wheels, Colonel! I think we astronauts are better than wheeling craft around. I don’t have wheels on this craft. Open the hangar doors and I’ll reduce the shield and hover her in there. Did you hear that, Captain Pete, wheeling spacecraft around?”

  “You wait, kid, you are going to be wheeled around too, don’t forget that,” replied Captain Pete, and for the first time in a long time Mars suddenly remembered the horrible, painful pull of the gravity on Earth. He had forgotten all about it.

  Captain Pete hadn’t forgotten. He was dreading the pain; he had just spent 1,000 days in absolute zero gravity, and it was going to hurt, really hurt.

  As promised, Mars landed, reduced the shield in the simmering hot sun, then lifted the craft a few feet off the ground, checked to see that the hangar door was high and wide enough, and gently floated the Matt craft into the cool shady hangar.

  He was also the first to exit the craft 30 minutes later and nearly crumpled to a heap on the floor as the two women, Beth and Monica, grabbed each arm, turned him around and sat him in the wheelchair.

  They unscrewed his spacesuit’s helmet and he tried to smile at the welcoming committee. Bob Mathews was right. It was hot, damn hot, and he could already feel beads of sweat running down his brow.

  Captain Pete was far weaker, and Mars had explained that to the threesome as they helped the old captain out of the bottom hatch. Mars, sitting in the wheelchair, was also shocked at how weak his mentor was. The poor man’s body was acting like a rag doll, and Beth even had to hold the captain’s head up. His neck muscles weren’t able to do so.

  “Right, off to the swimming pool with you two,” commanded Bob Mathews, far older-looking than Pete remembered. The man’s hair was pure white against the brownness of his tan. Bob actually looked more like an Aborigine than a white man. “Beth, Monica, get your swimsuits on. Pete might need help to stay afloat.”

  To Mars the water was warm and felt like the temperature of liquid blood. His brow was still sweating once he was in the warm water, and after he was able to change into his bathing trunks behind a curtain. Even this was hard work. His spacesuit had been removed by the ground crew. He only had a shirt and shorts underneath, but just getting these two items off was really strenuous.

  There were no medics this time. They hadn’t really been needed on the previous visits, and nobody had thought about inviting any. Dr. Walls and Nancy would be down on the next flights, and Captain Pete then realized how many little things Igor organized for everyone.

  As usual they were thirsty, and each was helped to down an iced bottle of water. To Mars it tasted like heaven.

  “Is the boy old enough to drink beer?” Bob asked Pete jokingly, holding two dripping six packs of beer. Pete smiled and nodded and Mars had his first ice-cold beer on Earth. He preferred the taste of water, but the beer was a sustenance that Jonesy believed made him strong, and he did believe a few things Jonesy said.

  Over the first hour, a little of their strength returned. After chatting with the two astronauts for a while, Bob headed over and lit the barbie, as he described it to Mars, waiting to feed them.

  A silly-looking robot emerged from one of the buildings with trays of what looked like slabs of whole cows, and Bob slapped massive T-bone steaks onto the roaring flames.

  “Like your steak charred, Pete, if I remember rightly?”

  “A steak, yes, Bob. A whole damn cow, no,” laughed Pete. He had able to hold his head up again on his third beer, but Beth stayed close just in case. To her, Pete had an extremely white, pretty shriveled-up, bad excuse for a human body, and she was glad she hadn’t become an astronaut. Even the young kid was as thin as a bean pole and didn’t weigh more than 100 pounds. She remembered seeing other thin bodies grow into normal shape only days after arriving, and they were used to getting only half of their friends back in weight each time they returned.

  Their diets were just as small. Pete finished four mouthfuls of meat and potatoes, the kid five. “I think we should get a medical team in for the next crew arrivals,” suggested Beth over bottles of water when everyone was back in the pool five hours later. The two astronauts had managed an afternoon nap in cots inside a fully walled veranda next to the pool. Both were hungry and slightly hung-over, but a hair of the same dog, a cold sunset beer, brought them back to life.

  “I think we should delay the next flight in for an extra 24 hours, Pete,” stated Bob. “We are going to need your help to ca
rt the crew off the ship if there are more than a dozen.”

  A radio was always nearby, and Pete suggested to Nancy that the next flight in wait another day, as Mars was in no position to help people off the craft, and he himself certainly wasn’t strong enough to help.

  Lunar Richmond reminded Mars that Astermine One was the next ship due in and it would have only 16 crew aboard. It would first dock with SB-II, then SB-I, and transfer a few crew, as there was not enough room. Then it would release the supply pod, and the supply pod under its belly would remain in orbit. Pluto Katherine Richmond, who had seven hours flying inside a blue shield in the Martian atmosphere, was bringing her in with herself as co-pilot, and with the doctor. Lunar and Dr. Walls had already made the spacewalk across to the small mining craft.

  Pluto Katherine, Ryan’s younger daughter, was one of the best Astermine craft astronauts, and once they were down and rested, Lunar was to head up with Mars to return the black box with the blue shield for Asterspace Three, which would follow Astermine One. The Matt craft would bring in the remainder of the crews on each flight down.

  “What is the 1,500 gallons of ethanol for?” Bob asked Mars once the radio work was done.

  “Remember Commander Joot?” Mars asked.

  “The little bushman fellow, sure,” replied Bob.

  “Well, he was killed in an attack on our base on Mars. It was an older tribe of his kind of people who attacked us. I know nobody ever explained to you that the Matt craft we arrived in runs on ethanol.”

  “No kidding,” replied Bob. “Old Martin Brusk spends his life making electric cars work, and these old guys ran their spaceship on ethanol?” Bob shook his head. He still needed to be told much of what had happened, and with Captain Pete’s permission, for the next three hours, Mars told the three pilots the entire story since they had left Earth.

  “Phew! Pete, you got all the way from Mars to the moon on a couple of hundred gallons of liquid hydrogen,” remarked Bob, not believing what Mars was telling him. “You should have used Jonesy’s stocks of vodka you found in the stores. Since he is cryon-whatever asleep up there with Ryan and the rest of our generation, he certainly doesn’t need it. And, Pete, 13 years? Do you know how old us two old guys are going to be when those kids up there resurface and return? We are going to look like their damn parents.”