Michael swallowed. “That’s right, sir. On all points.”
The CEO nodded, and then addressed his Canadian counterpart.
“Let me digress for a moment. We have not made the following information public, and we would appreciate your keeping it under your hat for the time being.”
“But of course!”
A dark photographic image of an unfamiliar electron model appeared on screen against a backdrop of the stars. Some of the members of the Orcus 1 mission stood in the foreground to provide perspective on just how large the artifact was.
“Good. As you all might know, the Pluto Mission, Orcus 1, has resulted in the discovery of the artifact the lander crew have dubbed Dis Pater. On the face of this artifact, we found examples of over thirty thousand forms of writing. Today, our cryptologists have determined that one sample of writing underneath the main text is in an obscure dialect of Mayan.”
Michael, Alliras and Calbert shared looks and a few grunts of surprise. “A translation!” For a moment, Michael was completely distracted from his concern over Macklin’s Rock and Alex Manez by this revelation.
“In a previous conference, we have discussed this with Mr. Granville and Mr. Dolbeau. The translation is as follows:
“Behold the Mighty Door of Kinich Ahua; Eternity is Now Before You; Be Ware the Power of Kukulkan.”
“What does that mean?” Alliras asked.
William Tuttle, the director of NASA, spoke up, “According to the Mayan Pantheon, Kinich Ahua was the god of the sun, appearing as a firebird—their version of a phoenix. Kukulkan was the god of the elements. We might have just received a small clue to the deeper meaning in the last few hours.”
He shifted position, and lifted a notepad for reference. “At precisely 13:12:25 GMT, the artifact known as Dis Pater, originally classified as dormant, began to react.”
“React! To what?” Michael was losing his patience, and only calmed himself when Alliras put a consoling hand on his forearm.
“First, let me describe what happened. The scientists on Pluto noted that two important changes were taking place. First, the object turned a deep shade of red and began to emit a wave oscillation of 6662 angstroms. Second, the color began to transcend through the visible spectrum of light, and the wave emissions began to accelerate at a constant negative sixty angstroms per hour per hour, until, five hours, one minute and thirty four seconds later, at 18:13:59 GMT—about 23:13 Eastern—the object had reached a wave oscillation of 3997.23 angstroms. It settled on a color of deep violet, having gone through the entire spectrum of visible light.
“We began to receive the EPS signal about 23:30 Eastern, and at 04:30 this morning were made aware of a startling discovery from the Orcus 1.
“At ground zero,” he continued, “the object, Dis Pater, ceased to glow, returning to its original transparent, and ceased also to emit any wave pulse. It became, once again, dormant. At that same instant, however, Orcus 1 detected a foreign object near Pluto, originating from the asteroid belt—”
All six men in the conference room leaned forward, the emotions on their face a mix of apprehension, surprise, anxiety, and disbelief.
The director concluded, “The foreign object, clocked at a mean speed of 299,792 kilometers per hour, ceased its incredible velocity, and took up orbit equidistant between Pluto and its moon, Charon. There were no power emissions, or reaction signatures from any engine or power source. Moreover, there was no electrical activity or any other kind of activity detected.
“Ion spectrograph indicated the object to be chiefly metallic, with a mass of about one-and-a-half terratons, but indicated small traces of a polymer composite at one location. The Orcus 1 thereafter used a telescopic magnometer to visually identify the object orbiting eight thousand kilometers above the surface of Pluto.
“The object, gentlemen, was identified as an asteroid of approximately 100 kilometers in diameter; records identify this asteroid as Macklin’s Rock, with a Temporary Asteroidal Habitation Unit erected inside, all property of the Canadian Space Exploration’s Space Mining Division. The TAHU had markings on its face matching those of the geological survey conducted by Canada Corp.’s Energy, Mines and Resources Space Mining Division, SMD #568. So far, we have not been able to discover any signs of life inside the TAHU, and there are no power emissions. The TAHU is dormant.”
The director of NASA fell silent, letting it all sink in.
CEO Dolbeau broke the silence, his voice thin and uncertain. “Are you trying to tell me that this asteroid traveled over four billion kilometers in five hours?”
“Just shy of the speed of light, yes.”
Michael jumped to the same conclusion as the others, that the substance the Manez’s had discovered was an element that had the energy and power to propel an object at near light speed. It was the discovery of the millennium. As mind-blowing as that realization was, Michael was more concerned with one other thing. He did not hesitate to ask.
“How soon can you get someone up there to check and see whether Alex Manez is there, and if he is still alive?”
The CEO of USA, Inc. and the director of NASA shared a pointed look.
It was William Tuttle who finally answered,
“Unfortunately, the Orcus 1 does not have enough power to perform a lift-off and subsequent return to Pluto, and still leave enough power to continue their mission, and make return trip to Luna Station. The optimal window for their return trip will not occur for another six months. We would lose a half a year of scientific discovery if we were to attempt a rescue.”
Michael stood. “Are you telling me that you are going to just sit there and allow Alex Manez to die when you can save him?”
CEO Dolbeau made no comment, but out of the corner of his eye, Michael saw him raise an eyebrow.
The director replied in a level voice, “According to our best projections, there is no sign of life on TAHU.”
“You can’t tell unless you send someone up. If Alex managed to reach the TAHU’s security receptacle, he will have enough oxygen and heat for eighteen hours, even without electricity.”
“I’m not disputing the possibility of his survival, only stating that to do as you request will cost a considerable amount of money and an even greater loss of time.”
Michael jumped to his feet. “If money is what you want, tell me how much and I’ll take it out of my own pocket!”
“Now, now!” Alliras interrupted, pulling Michael’s sleeve and gesturing that he should retake his seat.
The director of NASA was about to make comment, but the CEO of USA, Inc. spoke first. “I appreciate your position. Of course, we will abandon the Orcus 1 mission immediately. We have already transmitted instructions for them to terminate the mission. They will proceed to the TAHU and salvage the entire unit, if possible. Finally, they have orders to return immediately to Luna Station, although the trip back will not be quite as rapid as the TAHU’s trip there. Our best projection has them returning in a little over seven months, sometime after the New Year.”
“Thank you, Mr. Madison,” said CEO Dolbeau. “That is very generous of your government to conduct a rescue mission of this caliber without regard to the astronomical costs of this undertaking.”
“It is the least we can do, under the circumstances. We are already drawing up a proposal to initiate a second Orcus mission; we hope to have an exclusive partner in this venture,” he offered, leaving the suggestion out in the open. The CEOs smiled at one another, but Michael, his temper cooling, saw that neither man made any indication that the conference was concluded.
He had to wait a few moments before CEO Frank Madison, as if interjecting an afterthought, said, “While I have you all on the line, I would like to informally propose a second joint venture that would be mutually beneficial to us both.”
“Of what nature?” CEO Pierre Dolbeau asked casually, though Michael got the sense that he knew exactly the proposal’s nature, and had been expecting this topic to surface at any momen
t. If Michael had thought it through, he would have realized that the top man of USA, Inc. would not waste time on a personal interface when a pre-recorded AV press release would have sufficed in this particular circumstance.
“We are prepared to offer an equal financing contract to you—I would say, ten billion dollars total equity—in a co-development enterprise through a joint corporation, a partnership with equal ownership.
“NASA would loan this new company—a subdivision of NASA and SMD, let’s call it Quantum Resources, Inc. for now—a number of research technicians and scientists matching your own contribution. We would stipulate that sub-contracts would be divided equally between NASA and SMD on the Dis Pater research, as well as for possible lodes of Element X, shall we call it, discovered on Macklin’s Rock. If this is indeed what has driving the asteroid to achieve light speed, the possibilities for future enterprise is staggering.”
He continued. “SMD would retain all mining rights on their individual stake claims, as would USA, Inc. should we stumble on any finds. Exclusive development rights to any finds on either side would be given to Quantum Resources. International marketing would be supplied by NASA Space Resources, with a 30% royalty to be disbursed to Quantum Resources.”
For brief moment, Michael felt like protesting. What right did USA, Inc. have to come sticking their fingers in SMD’s discovery? All SMD had to do was re-analyze their readings of the Nelson II, and collate any other information they received from the recovered TAHU, and they would have a virtual monopoly on the results of light-speed research, if they were able to find another lode of Element X.
Then a few other thoughts occurred to him; thoughts that had probably already occurred to CEO Dolbeau, who would have to be a shrewd businessman to run the third largest corporate government in the world.
The first consideration was that, if a contract was reached, NASA would not release the news of Dis Pater’s phenomenal reaction, nor the light-speed trip of the Manez’s TAHU. This information could be suppressed for the next seven months, and perhaps even well after the return of the Orcus 1. That would provide this joint-corporation, Quantum Resources, with an incredible advantage in research time. With NASA Space Resources’ incredible marketing base, any resulting products would reap billions in revenues for Quantum Resources, and the parent companies.
In addition, if SMD closed the information flow and refused the deal, NASA would throw every spare asset into the search and development of the mysterious Element X. They would start out behind SMD at first, but with their enormous resource base, they would quickly overtake and dominate Canada’s world market share.
A joint venture would speed things up for both parties, and the benefits would be mutually reaped.
Politics gave Michael a serious headache.
CEO Dolbeau straightened himself in his chair. “It is apparent to everyone here, I’m sure, that the discovery of Dis Pater and its relationship to light speed travel indicates incontrovertibly that we are not alone in the Universe. There are others out there; possibly, many others. I’m sure we would all agree that when—not ‘if’—we meet our interstellar counterparts, it would be extremely important to show a unified front, that we present ourselves as a people who freely enter into cooperative ventures in the spirit of cooperation and beneficial enterprise.”
The CEO of USA, Inc. nodded formally. “I see we are of one mind. As we speak, I have lawyers drawing up the initial drafts of Quantum Resources, Inc.’s charter, as well as the joint financing and research contract between SMD and NASA. I’m sure any minor negotiations will be handled diligently and promptly by our respective departments long before the return of Orcus 1. In the meantime, I have instructed William to have an open line on the Orcus 1 mission transmitting non-stop from NASA’s Mission Control to the SMD Event Center.”
CEO Dolbeau stood. “That is very gracious and kind. I know we will all be watching with baited breath for results of Orcus 1’s contact with the TAHU.”
CEO Madison, also standing, hastened to add, “If I might propose one more thing.”
“Of course.”
“In the spirit of cooperation that you expounded upon so eloquently, I would like to propose that the directorship of Quantum Resources, Inc.—or whatever name we eventually agree upon if that one is not satisfactory—should fall to Michael Sanderson. His diligence and concern for the well-being of those under him has been shown so pointedly to us all as of greater concern to him than any fiscal interest; a quality, I’m sure, to which we all aspire. I unofficially forward this motion.”
“I can assure you, Mr. CEO, that your proposal is more than adequate as a sign of your good faith. I unofficially second. And, as we are the only two shareholders who count at this early stage, the motion is unofficially passed.”
The formal part of the conversation concluded, the two CEO’s indicated they wished a closed two-transmission line, through which they offered each other pleasantries and shared a few words on other topics of international concern.
*
Ushered out behind the two ministers, Michael and Calbert left the conference room to the CEOs and their aides.
“Congratulations,” Alliras offered Michael as they neared the door to exit, shaking his subordinate’s hand. “You obviously made an impression.”
Still dumbstruck by the appointment, Michael shook his head. “I didn’t expect…” He took a deep breath.
“None of us are surprised. You deserve this.”
“I’m sure I’ll have my work cut out for me, but right now, I want to see that tape of the Dis Pater. It’s the key to understanding Element X, and our interstellar neighbors.”
Alliras laughed. “Typical. You’re offered the catbird seat, and all you can think of is how to build a better mousetrap.”
“I’m sure I’ll do a victory dance later, when it all sinks in. —Calbert, I want to know exactly when the Orcus 1 will rendezvous with the TAHU.”
Calbert shook his head and chuckled. “All business with you, boss.” But he got right down to it as well.
Accessing the data tapes through his thoughtlink, Calbert informed him, “It won’t be until this afternoon. You have a few hours to grab breakfast. The Dis Pater files will be in your office waiting for you.”
“Thanks, Calbert.”
“Boss, we’ve got six months to analyze the data. Why don’t you catch a few more hours sleep; you look like you’re dead on your feet.”
“I agree,” Alliras said, nodding to Calbert. “We all could use a few hours to rest, and freshen up.”
Thomas suggested, “Why don’t we all meet back here at one? While we wait for the rendezvous, and see whether young Mr. Manez has survived his travails, we can discuss a plan of action. There’s a hell of a lot of work for us in the next few months, and I want to get a jump start on it, make sure we’re all on the same wave length.”
Shaking hands, they dispersed.
Michael turned to Calbert. “I’m ordering you to take your own advice. Stand down. You and Ray both. I’ll see both of you in seven hours. I’m going to head home and grab a shower.”
*
As Michael exited Operations and took a conveyor tube down to the parking lot where a limo was waiting to take him home, all that had transpired suddenly caught up to him, hitting him like a tidal wave.
There were others out there…somewhere. They had left more than a calling card; they had left a possible means of contact, like the recording on the Voyager II probe sent out in the late nineteen-seventies by NASA. Humankind was about to embark on a mission to take them into the Interstellar Age.
And Michael Sanderson was going to be a pioneer of the next stage of the evolution of humankind.
Instead of feeling elated and proud, Michael felt inadequate to the task. Frightened. Small.
He thought of Alex Manez, the first light speed traveler. Had he survived the experience? His parents hadn’t; they had become the first victims of Element X.
Was Alex alive
?
Michael hoped so.
__________
Pluto Orbit :
Orcus 1:
Macklin’s Rock;
The tomb was complete; darkness impenetrable, forever. He was a living corpse in a coffin of the unknown; his brain had ceased all higher functions in defense of the impossible data that had bombarded his senses. It was all too much.
Breathing was an effort. It was increasingly more difficult with each passing millennium.
Or was that, each passing minute?
Alex slowly came to realize that he was losing oxygen in the security receptacle. There was no light for him to read the monitors; the devices themselves were not operating.
“Hucs?” he called out. “Hucs?”
Only silence answered him.
Memory was the core of a spider web; Alex was on the outer thread. He followed the silken strands, careful not to fall off into the bottomless depths of insanity.
Something had hit the asteroid. His parents had been outside, on the surface.
“Mom! Dad!” he called out weakly, not expecting them to answer. “Help!”
He tried to move his head, but there was something stopping him; he remembered, the security receptacle encased his head in protective foam, leaving just enough room for him to breathe.
Moving his hand, he drew it up and tried to rip the solidified foam from his head, but it was too hard. He had to activate Hucs; the computer must have gone off-line. Flicking his hand over the control switches brought no results. The power must have shorted.
Feeling around for the manual override, a panic set in, causing his heart to trip-hammer in his chest. The override, when he found it, produced no effect either. The entire TAHU was dysfunctional.
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