“Is there a Jill Geeson in here?”
“Ah’m Jill –“
“Can you give the Senior Flight Training Instructor five minutes of your time?”
Jill finished getting ready and hauled herself and all her bags along to the instructor’s office where she found two male trainees who had been on the two day course also sitting there. Captain Carswell asked her to sit beside the other two trainees and then addressed them all cordially harking back to an old movie from the late 20th century.
“Well, how was survival training?”
The three trainees all laughed and in unison answered.
“We survived!”
Captain Carswell then addressed them in a more solemn tone.
“As you are all aware we lost one of our immigrant ships last Saturday – the Oh-X-triple-I –and all on board perished. A terrible thing, awful. In fact, Jill, ah saw your report on Sky – you did a terrific job there – very humbling.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Well, guys, the thing is this. It appears that the boffins are gonna manage to scramble up two more Ohs than had been originally planned. This means we gotta shuffle the reserves around. So you three guys have been selected to move up from secondary tier to primary tier reserves.”
Jill and the other two trainees gasped audibly.
“Now, don’t get your goddam hopes up too high. Still means you’re one step away from an actual seat goin’ to Mars. Hell though, it’s a heckuva lot better than the place ah’ve got – ah ain’t goin’ nowhere!”
Jill could not wait to call Ewan. Somehow, inexorably, she felt their destinies were being slowly drawn together by some higher force. Although, she knew that Ewan would be more pragmatic and view it more from the glass half empty perspective. He would say that she was still not definitely seated beside him on the Mars trip. Bloody scientist!
*
Earthdate: 16:45 Friday January 14, 2084 EST
That same afternoon Jack Crossan, dressed in his full formal space commander’s dress uniform, flew up in his hired Chevy air-car to the small town of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, quaintly preserved since the terrible battle of 1863. As his air-car dropped down into Gettysburg the whole landscape was covered in fresh snow. Eerily the scene from above looked so preserved and out of time that it could easily have been from an old black and white photograph taken back during the American Civil War. Jack arrived at the home of Andrew Jones, father of the ill-fated Space Commander Bethan Jones, and he stepped out of his parked air-car. He hesitated nervously before the house, which sported one of the prized preservation plaques on the red bricked wall. “Civil War Building – July 1863”. Jack was not looking forward to meeting Andrew Jones. However, it appeared that Andrew had been expecting Jack’s arrival and he opened the small door and ushered Jack in to the tiny living room. A young girl stood in the middle of the room and Andrew, ashen-faced and red-eyed, introduced his younger daughter Megan Jones. They all sat down and Jack drew out a blue velvet covered box from his briefcase, which he opened and turned towards the father and daughter. Megan sobbed softly.
“Mr Jones, may ah call you Andrew?”
Andrew nodded solemnly with his head slightly bowed.
“Andrew – Megan – ah have been sent by order of the President of the United States – Josh Trueman – to, ah, to present you with this posthumous US Air Force Medal of Honor in recognition of the bravery and valour shown by your, ah, your daughter Space Commander Bethan Jones USAF. Bethan gave her life freely and honourably in the pursuit of the survival of the human race. Ah personally knew and trained Bethan and she was a fine student and a skilled astronaut. Andrew – she was a very brave girl – one of the best.”
Andrew leaned over and lightly touched the shining medal, tears rolling freely down his cheeks.
“Andrew, ah would ask you to accept this medal on behalf of a grateful nation – indeed, a grateful world.”
A sort of ironic snort was exhaled from Andrew’s mouth and his voice began to rise in ire not specifically directed at Jack.
“Commander Crossan, c’mon now, what use is this bullshit token to me or Megan?”
“Well, it’s for –“
“Ah know what it’s for, Jack! But what use is such a bauble now? I lost my wife a few years ago to cancer. I’ve now lost my oldest daughter. And in four months’ time I’m gonna lose my only surviving daughter –“
Megan began sobbing a little more loudly and Andrew put his arm around her shoulder protectively.
“- and also my own life. Bethan’s medal will be obliterated along with us. So what use is that?”
Jack bowed his head looking at the glinting medal and his lips quivered as he spoke softly.
“Ah’m also gonna lose the woman ah still love dearly and two young sons too –“
Andrew’s voice softened apologetically and he replied through blinding tears.
“Ah’m so sorry, Jack. Our hearts are just broken over the loss of our beautiful sweet Bethan. We had taken solace in the hope that Bethan was going to survive on Mars. But that has been taken away from us.”
They all lapsed into a momentary silence and the old Civil War house seemed to creak and groan as if joining in with their collective grief. Then Jack, after a flashing thought, looked up and directly into Andrew’s tear-filled eyes.
“Here’s the thing, Andrew. In six weeks’ time ah’m Fleet Commander for the last flights to Mars of the Big-Oh fleet. It would be ma honour to take an’ wear Bethan’s Medal of Honor an’ ah promise you and Megan that your daughter’s medal will find a special place of honour in Capitol Base. How would ya feel about that?”
Andrew’s eyes lit up and Megan gripped her father’s arm excitedly.
“You would do that for ma Bethan? Then she would be remembered forever?”
“It would be ma honour an’ privilege to do that for you, Andrew.”
Andrew was too choked to speak, but Megan cried out happily.
“Oh, daddy, it would be like Bethan made it to Mars for us after all.”
*
Earthdate: 14:10 Monday February 21, 2084 CST
Thunder clouds were massing to the north of the Johnson Space Center but the onset of a massive electric storm had not deterred the crowd of almost one million from converging on the perimeters of the Shuttle Launch Pad. All the major 3DTV networks were also in prime position. It was estimated that the 15:00 hours launch of the last Jupiter Galaxy V shuttle carrying the final 100 immigrants up to Alpha Base for transfer to Oceanus LII would command the largest single TV audience in history. They would be watching the final chosen few carrying all the hopes and dreams of the whole of mankind. However, what the watching humanity was unaware of, was that the storm rolling in was seriously jeopardising the chance of a successful take-off for the mighty shuttle. Man’s future seemed to be being dogged by the forces of nature at every turn. Back at Houston Control nerves were frayed to breaking point. This launch represented the final window of opportunity to transfer these immigrants before the last Oceanus fleet sailed in one week’s time on 28 February for Mars. Any delay to the fleet’s departure after that date would seriously jeopardise any of the Oceanus craft still within the predicted blast zone caused by Schenkler’s devastating and total impact with Earth on 26 May. This would mean that Aaron Eckler’s risk assessment of the loss of one more Oceanus could turn out to be a grave underestimation. Eckler knew that the bottom line was that the shuttle had to take off today or it was not going anywhere. Eckler also knew that he had another major problem. On board Oh LII the ship was carrying Jack Crossan and Ewan Sinclair. Both Jack and Ewan had been held back to the last because their work on the programme back here on Earth had been crucial to the success of the Mars mission. However, Eckler now knew that if they did not take off today the Oceanus fleet was losing its appointed Fleet Commander and its best astrona
ut and Mars would undoubtedly be without its best astrophysicist. As the time check boomed around the Johnson Space Center and Houston Control - “T-minus-49 and counting” - Eckler snapped at Director of Control Irene Dupré standing beside him.
“Christ, Irene, what’s the latest weather check on that storm?”
Irene tapped through to the weather controllers’ latest update and turned to Eckler.
“It’s lookin’ pretty bad, Aaron. Weather guys say it will be right on top of us in about 40 minutes – right before launch.”
“Aw shit, that’s all we need. These shuttles are pretty sturdy beasts, but you and I know they are really designed for fair weather launches.”
Irene nodded in agreement.
“What ah’m also worried about is the condition of the shuttle crew. They’ve been up and down to Alpha Base delivering the immigrants, the flora, fauna, DNA stockpiles and all the other stuff needed for the trip. They’re just about at breaking point, Aaron.”
“Well, Irene, looks like we are all in the lap of the Gods – as per usual.”
On the launch deck area Jill was having her own problems. She was the only TV reporter in the world who had made it on to the flight selection lists, albeit, only on to the primary reserve list. This meant that she had been given the requisite space flight and launch training. For that reason Jill had been selected as the only reporter to be able to report via a static camera link attached to the corridor deck leading directly on to the huge Jupiter Galaxy V. No other TV crew were authorised to be on the launch deck, only ground crew. Jill stood pensively in front of the camera in full space flight gear with her helmet tucked awkwardly under her arm. Half an hour ago before she went on air she had had an emotional farewell with an equally tearful Ewan. He begged Jill to be allowed to stay.
“Jill, I’m sick to my stomach. I don’t want to leave you. I love you too much to go.”
Before Jill answered she bit hard on her lip to stop herself from crying. She watched the other immigrants filing past on the covered derricked corridor leading on to the shuttle. She turned to Ewan dry-eyed and almost hissed at him.
“Ewan Sinclair – get your arse on that ship right now! Those people there are going to need your expertise up there on Mars!”
Jill pulled Ewan in towards her and kissed him hard on the mouth. Then she immediately pushed him away towards the shuttle entrance door. She turned her back on him as if concentrating on the static camera that she was going to give her worldwide report to. She did not want Ewan to see the tears rolling freely down her face in case he failed to leave her. When she glanced around a moment later he had gone on board.
“T-minus-45 and counting.”
The booming announcement over the tannoys snapped Jill back into her present predicament. The impending lightning storm had been playing havoc with the 3DTV electronics and the anchorman at Sky News had been trying unsuccessfully in the last five minutes to cue Jill in. She had to be off the derrick by T-minus-20, so if she did not get a report in by then it would be too late. Jill’s director was screaming frantically down into her headpiece.
“Fucking hell, Jill. We’re still not getting any feed from the camera and we weren’t hearing you until a coupla minutes ago.”
“What should ah do then? Just go on sound report only?”
“Aw fuck it, Jill, I don’t know. Give the fucking camera a good bloody shaking and see what happens.”
Jill gave the static camera a thud and immediately her director screamed back that she was now in full view on TV and he directed the anchorman to bring her on air in five seconds.
“And now we can go over to our reporter at the shuttle launch – Jill?”
A large rumble of thunder and the start of a heavy downpour introduced Jill’s report. As she began, she wondered if anyone was hearing or seeing her, but she soldiered on anyway. Jill could not be sure, but indeed the world was watching.
“This is Jill Geeson reporting for Sky News. I am standing on the gangway just yards from the last of the momentous launches into space from planet Earth of the mighty Jupiter Galaxy V shuttles. On board are 100 men and women who represent the last surviving hopes of mankind. In just over 30 minutes they will take off to join the other twenty odd thousand men and women who will blast off from Alpha Base in a week’s time on route to mankind’s new planet of hope – Mars!“
“T-minus-29 and counting.”
A large bolt of lightning snaked its way down from the heavens and struck the nose cone of the shuttle. The big Jupiter was fully earthed and the electricity dissipated harmlessly, but the near strike badly rattled the already frayed nerves of Canadian pilot Captain John Alexander and German co-pilot Flight Lieutenant Vibka Liebherr. The radio crackled and Lex Kosloff in Houston Control came on.
“Control to Eagle One. We saw you take a lightning strike head on there. Can you give us a status report? Over.”
Captain Alexander reported back.
“E-Eagle One to C-Control. All systems still go here but ah’m p-pretty shook up. If this gets any worse ah think we might n-need to delay the launch a few hours. Over.”
Lex looked back up to Irene DuPré and Aaron Eckler who both slowly shook their heads in unison.
“Control to Eagle One. Sorry guys, but no delay. Launch must go in T-minus-28 and counting. Report your status. Good to go? Over.”
There was a long pregnant pause and Lex again pressed the crew for an answer.
“Control to Eagle One. Repeat. Are you good to go? Over.”
The German Flight Lieutenant crackled a response.
“Eagle One to Control. Vibka here – I am good to go. Over.”
“T-minus-26 and counting.”
Jill was still on the derrick reporting although she had been pretty shaken by the near lightning strike a few minutes ago. She carried on bravely, now shouting at the top of her voice, as the huge Lockheed-Rolls Royce rocket engines began to thunder into life and compete with the fierce oncoming storm.
“We are now just twenty six minutes to lift off and it as if a great battle between man, machine and nature has begun. In less than six minutes I will need to get clear of the gangway along with all remaining ground crew as the huge engines rev up to full lift off power. The gangway will be drawn clear of the Jupiter shuttle, in effect, cutting the last umbilical lifeline between we billions left on Earth and the few humans destined to become our surviving descendants on the hostile Red Planet. At this point we can only wish them all - bon voyage.”
At that very split second Jill let out a scream live on 3DTV to the watching billions, who would all have seen the lightning strike the hull of the Jupiter shuttle just yards behind her for the second time. A startled Jill kept on reporting.
“Who says lightning doesn’t strike twice?”
Lex saw the second lightning strike on the shuttle as he was still trying to communicate with the crew.
“Control to Eagle One. Got Vibka’s okay to go. John need your good to go. Over.”
Again there was a momentary pause, then Captain John Alexander’s frighteningly high-pitched tones came across the airwaves, but he was garbled and incoherent. Irene DuPré came on to Lex’s headset.
“Jeezus, Lex, what the hell’s goin’ on in that cockpit? Over.”
“Control to Eagle One. Vibka! Vibka! Please respond? Over.”
In the cockpit Vibka was struggling to control John Alexander and she did not know if he was having a heart attack, a seizure or a nervous breakdown. She yelled at a cabin crew member to find a doctor on board. While she fought to calm the captain down she called back on her headset.
“Eagle One to Control. Captain Alexander currently unwell. Seeking medical advice on board. Please advise situation? Over.”
Lex swivelled in his seat and looked back up at Irene and Aaron then he spread his arms out questioningly seeking an answer. He wa
tched them have a quick conflab and then he saw Eckler put on a headset.
“Control to Eagle One. Mission Director Aaron Eckler here Vibka. We are delaying lift off by one-five minutes, repeat one-five, until situation stabilises. New lift off now T-minus-40. If Eagle One unable to lift off in T-minus-40 and counting then mission abort will be announced. Please acknowledge compliance. Over.”
“Eagle One to Control. Vibka acknowledging and Wilco. Doctor now attending Captain Alexander in cockpit. Will update ASAP. Over.”
The booming time check was recalibrated and announced to the watching world.
“Mission delay. Launch in T-minus-39 and counting.”
A huge gasp arose from the crowd of a million watchers who were now being utterly drenched in the increasing downpour. It did not take a technical genius to know that this storm would play a part in whether the launch would happen or not. The rest of the watching world held its collective breath. Jill had called in to her director and asked what was going on and he screamed back at her.
“Jill, how the fuck would I know! Just wing it, kiddo, the whole fucking world is watching you!”
The static camera light signified she was back on air.
2084 The End of Days Page 31