by Lisa Medley
There were currently five other stellar startups racing like mad to do the same thing. First one with a hotel on the Moon would be the winner.
Tess shut her binder and smoothed her hands flat across its cool face. “This is a suicide mission.”
“Now, Tessa. Where’s your sense of adventure?” Janson said, walking through the double glass doors into the room. When he rounded the table, their third, and newest, crewmate stood behind him. “Tessa. Noah. Meet Mr. Cole Hudson. Cole’s specialty is geological and mining engineering. I see you’ve already dipped into the binders. So it would appear the big mission reveal has been a bit spoiled. Totally my fault, though. It took me a bit longer to wrest Mr. Hudson away from the shop than I’d anticipated.”
The slow smile that spread across Cole’s face as he recognized Tessa only fanned the flames of her contempt for him. So. Damn. Cocky. Engineers were nerds by nature, but Hudson had somehow bypassed nerd status altogether and cranked his confidence up to twelve. Noah was smart, skilled, and good-looking in a brotherly sort of way. If anyone had a right to be overly confident it was him, yet he’d managed to maintain his self-respect and earn the respect of others with his self-assurance and expertise, which made him a joy to work with.
Tessa didn’t foresee any joy in her future working with the likes of Hudson. She foresaw months of head-butting, intolerance, and frustration. Her dream job just got a lot less dreamy.
“Tessa? Well, Janson, I see you’ve amassed a team of NASA rejects. I guess The Skyhawks Group 31 should maybe have been called The Retreads instead?” He laughed, and the sound slid a shiver of irritation down Tessa’s back.
“Hudson,” Tessa said, the one word an effort to expel.
Noah stood and reached his hand across the table to Cole. “Noah Wright. Pilot, mechanical and aviation engineer. Group 30 reject. Nice to meet you.”
“Happy to meet another tailing,” Cole said.
God, even his vocabulary is annoying. Mining humor. How original.
Cole took a seat across from Tessa, and Janson made his way around to the front of the oblong table by the flat screen. He picked up a remote from the IT cart.
“You’ve already peeked at the mission binders, so you know the gist, but what’s on paper isn’t the most amazing part. Watch this.” Janson clicked off the lights and blacked out the room. Seconds later, a slick promotional space tourism video began to play. A pinprick of light flared in the center of the 3D screen. It grew steadily larger as other dots of light began to illuminate until the first light became recognizable as planet Earth, brilliant in all of its high definition glory before her and exactly as she’d seen it for herself.
Music swelled as the narrator described the images before them in a voice so hypnotic Tessa could imagine it playing across IMAX screens all over the US. Janson knew how to captivate an audience…and crew. She couldn’t deny her heart kicked up its pace while she watched. And she’d been to space.
How much more thrilling for the unwashed masses?
She thought of her brothers. Tried to imagine them on one of Janson’s commercial flights. Hell, she couldn’t imagine them on a Southwest flight together. But she wanted this for them. No amount of explaining and regaling could live up to experiencing space for oneself.
A tear leaked out of her eye, and she cursed herself for the emotion. The last thing she wanted was to appear soft, emotional…weak in front of her new boss and coworkers. But, mostly, she didn’t want Hudson to see it. Predators sensed weakness and used it to their advantage.
Hudson was all predator.
The video ended, and she was embarrassed that it left her bereft. She hadn’t wanted it to end. The lights came back up, and the harshness of the sudden change made her squint until her eyes adjusted. If anyone noticed her waterworks, no one said anything. She’d blame it on the bright lights if necessary.
You couldn’t have slapped the smile off of Janson’s face.
“Inspiring, isn’t it? I’ve watched this a hundred times, and it still touches me. Space tourism is the dream. It’s attainable in our lifetime. It’s attainable in the next five years, if we get to work now to finance it. You know I have money. I also have hundreds of flush investors and more than fifty advance deposits totaling more than ten million dollars on the first official flights. But for an endeavor such as this? Ten million is nothing. We have to think bigger. Much bigger.” Janson placed his palms on the table and leaned forward.
“You know I’m a dreamer. But I’m not the only one. I’ve always loved that Beatles song. That’s why you’re here. Because I think you three are dreamers as well. Your talents were overlooked. Wasted at NASA. Here we value innovation and individuality as much as teamwork. We won’t hold you back from what is possible. From the opportunity to reach your fullest potential. Yes, this is in an effort to fulfill my dream. But I want it to be your dream as well. So the first and foremost question you have to ask yourself before we go any further, is this… Are you a dreamer?”
Cole leaned back in his padded leather office chair and kicked his feet up onto the conference table. “Buddy, for the right price, I’ll dream your little dream.”
Janson shook his head. “No, that’s the crux of this. It has to be your dream too. You must be fully invested in this and motivated to own the success as much as me. I can’t fly the ship. I can’t mine the asteroids. I can write checks and hopefully inspire people to be their best. This is your chance for riches, yes. For glory, definitely. For redemption even, if that’s what you’re looking for. If you’re in, you’re all in. A reference I would think you, Mr. Hudson, most of all, might understand.”
Cole sucked in a loud breath and clasped his hands behind his head, boring a thoughtful stare through Janson. “I know rocks and mining. You get me to where you want both of those things to happen, and I’ll get them done.”
“Well, I can’t get you there, but Ms. Hernandez and Mr. Wright certainly can. They’ve been flying for months now. Six trips, so far.”
“Aren’t you two the space cowboys,” Hudson gave them a little two-finger salute.
“You aren’t going to believe it, Cole,” Noah said.
“Assuming we make it through this briefing and everyone is still on board, you’ll get to see for yourself tomorrow, Mr. Hudson,” Janson said.
Cole arched an eyebrow at Tessa. “You fly, I’ll buy.”
***
The next few hours were painful. Meetings were the last thing Cole wanted any part of, but he had to admit the proposal Janson set out to them was more than intriguing. He’d be breaking ground on this expedition in ways only science fiction writers had dreamed of. It seemed too good to be true. He couldn’t lie the potential payday was ridiculous, but then so was the risk. This job was hands down the biggest gamble he’d ever taken.
But take it, he would.
He was all in. Just like Janson had demanded.
He’d spent the past few hours testing out the mining equipment Janson’s engineers had built. It was flawless. In the desert. But in space? Where it mattered? Only way to find out. Try it.
Trial by fire and all that.
He was as ready as he would ever be.
Now, if only Tessa didn’t purposely get him killed in the process. The woman had shot venom lasers at him from the moment he’d walked in the door. He’d more than noticed her in the Program, but she’d beamed strong do-not-fuck-with-me vibes his way. She was all kinds of fiery, which was exactly what had gotten her booted, from what he’d heard. More than once he’d witnessed her temper in action when things had gone wrong. Everyone understood there was no room for errors. He didn’t blame her for losing her shit. Still, she was arrogant and strong-willed. Qualities he was sure had been voiced in vain against him many times in the past as well.
Cole knew a thing or two about losing his temper.
He flexed his left hand, the knuckles still bruised from the most recent bar fight he’d participated in. Talk about the pot calling the kettle b
lack. While he didn’t know anything about Noah, he did trust Tessa could get him to space and back alive.
She was damn good.
Of course, he was better.
On his way back to his apartment, Noah popped out of one of the pods with a backpack. “Hey, Cole. Tessa and I are riding out into the desert to watch the sunset and decompress. Want to come along?”
“Is there booze involved in this adventure?”
“Sadly, no. We’re flying tomorrow my friend. You don’t want either of us hung over.” Noah laughed.
“Designated flyer then, huh?”
“Exactly.”
“I’m not sure Tessa’s going to be so keen on my tagging along on your date,” Cole said.
“Trust me, it’s not a date. I’ve been hinting for the past six months. She’s a no-go. I’ve resigned myself to brother-friend status,” Noah said.
“Probably your safest bet. I’m pretty sure she’s lethal.”
“But brilliant,” Noah added.
“Even worse.”
“Meet us out behind Building 61 in fifteen minutes.”
“Done.”
***
Tessa sat waiting in the Bombardier four-seater’s driver’s seat. Noah was too kind, inviting Cole along. Weren’t they going to be forced to spend enough time together in the coming days? So far, each flight had been a day trip. Tomorrow night would be the first of a three-day trip to Amun to land, then lower their rover and skim the surface for whatever rocks looked appealing to Cole. More a reconnaissance mission to test the harpoon and see if landing on an asteroid was even an option than anything else.
They’d all had the training they needed in the Program. Now, it was time to put that training into action. Make or break.
It was a huge deal. The butterflies building in Tessa’s stomach confirmed that. She needed a good night’s sleep, which she was certain she was not going to get.
“What do you think about Cole,” Noah asked, breaking the silence.
“He’s a cowboy with two engineering degrees and a reckless attitude that will probably put us all at risk.”
“Geez, don’t pull any punches there. I’m afraid to ask what you think about me?” he laughed.
“I trust you with my life. Hell, I have trusted you with my life.”
“Are you scared about tomorrow night?”
“Yes.”
“Smart girl.”
They quieted when Cole stepped around the side of Building 61 and sauntered toward them. The hair pricked up on the back of Tessa’s arms, and her stomach knotted tighter. Why she had such a visceral reaction to that man, she had no idea. She needed to let it go. He was on the team. He was Janson’s guy. And until he proved dangerous, she would have to trust that he wouldn’t do anything too crazy to jeopardize their mission or their lives.
Trust was such a delicate and intangible thing.
“My chariot awaits!” Cole stretched his arms wide, a bottle of Jameson in one hand and a side arm on his hip.
“You’re packing…and drinking?” Tessa asked, amazed.
“Noah said you two were the designated flyers. I’m just along for the ride tomorrow, right? The Jameson is for a celebratory shot, the gun is a Colt. And it’s for rattlesnakes. Trust me, precious. When I go, it will be with a gun in my hand and booze in my belly.”
Tessa looked at Noah and shook her head. “Still glad you invited him?”
“Yep.”
***
They rode in silence, bouncing across the desert in the ATV on oversized knobby tires. Cole stretched his arms luxuriously across the back seats until the tumultuous ride knocked his head into the roll bar. After that, he gripped the oh Jesus handle and held on for dear life during what was quickly becoming a five-ticket ride.
He suppressed his comments about women drivers. Considering the nearly visible cloud of animosity emanating from Tessa, he thought it better not to rock her boat. Normally women fell pretty easily for his east Texas accent and swagger. Tessa seemed repelled by it. They were like two magnets: the closer you pushed them together the more resistance was created.
It was a puzzling turn of fate the one woman in the universe who seemed to despise him was taking him to space tomorrow. Of course, he had to survive this foray through the desert to see a sunset first.
He wouldn’t hold his breath.
The horizon blazed in a fire of color. The quick glimpse of the desert and sky he’d caught through his patio doors was now lit up with all manner of tropical drink and bikini colors. Tessa drove the ATV up an angled mesa that seemed made for viewing. And Cole wasn’t talking man-made. Some things the big guy got right. Like nature. People, on the other hand? That was questionable.
The Bombardier skidded to a stop, and the ass end slid around to line up horizontally with the view. Cole let his hand peel away from the handle and flexed it to restore circulation. Gave a whole new dimension to white-knuckle ride.
“Pretty damn awesome,” Noah said.
“It’ll do,” Tessa said, putting the shifter into park and setting the brake.
They disembarked, and Tessa made her way over to the edge and sat, dangling her feet off the ledge. Noah did the same, but Cole was distracted by the rocks around the top of the mesa. Bauxite. He’d been to the aluminum mine near Alto during his college internships. Aluminum was one of the most plentiful metals on the Earth’s surface, also once one of the most costly to refine. Not anymore.
Their spaceship was fueled by a combination of aluminum nanoparticles and water. When the two combined, they made the perfect rocket propellant. ALICE fuel they called it. Not only was it abundant, but the egghead rocket scientist had actually simplified the aluminum refining down to a small enough endeavor it was possible to toss raw bauxite into the hopper and shoot aluminum powder out the back end within a few hours. Rocks and water in, fuel out. Theoretically, refueling stations could be set up across space, and the fuel could be manufactured anywhere that also had water or ice. Aluminum was plentiful in space.
Government and privately owned, remote-controlled probing telescopes had been weaving around the asteroid belts for years, like a cosmic game of Frogger. Many of the asteroids were rich in water, mostly in the form of ice. Of the nine thousand NEAs—near Earth asteroids—more than a hundred and fifty were water rich and easier to reach than the moon.
Cole tossed the rock over the ledge as far as he could throw it.
Tessa shot an annoyed look his way. “What was that for?”
“Plenty more where that one came from.” Cole twisted the cap off the bottle of Jameson and sat beside her. “One shot. A toast to new horizons.”
“I don’t think—” Tessa started.
“Don’t think, drink. One shot. I’m not trying to get you drunk and take advantage of you. I need you tight and sober tomorrow.” Cole tipped the bottle her way. “To our benefactor, Gru, and his mission to steal the moon.”
Noah laughed. “I’ll drink to that.”
“Noah!” Tessa chided.
“One shot, Tess. It’s okay. Live a little,” Noah said and accepted the bottle from Cole.
“That’s what I plan to do,” Tessa mumbled.
Noah handed her the bottle, and she tipped it up quickly, barely letting any liquid pass her lips. “Misericordias de viaje.” She handed the bottle back to Cole then crossed herself.
“Traveling mercies? Your toast may be better than mine.” Cole smiled at her, and she huffed out a derisive snort in reply. Clearly there was plenty of ice right here in the desert.
Cole recapped the bottle and sat it beside him. He eased back and rested on his elbows. “Sure is beautiful.”
“Wait until you see the sun rise and set from space. We’ve been up all hours of the day and night these past few weeks. It will be amazing to see it from Amun,” Noah said. “What do you think about the equipment Janson has for you, Cole?”
“It’s beyond state-of-the-art,” Cole said.
“How long do you think
it will take you to learn to run it up there?” Noah asked.
“About ten minutes,” Cole said.
Tessa snorted. “You know, cowboy, you could take this a little more seriously. This time tomorrow, you’ll be putting your money where your mouth is. I hope you can back up all your big claims with action.”
“Precious, I’ve got moves you haven’t even seen yet,” Cole said.
“Dios mío,” Tessa said.
“Nope, just a man.”
Chapter Four
Launchpad, SpaceXport Base, NM
“Xport One, you’re clear for takeoff.”
From his rear seat, Cole watched Tessa and Noah double-check their settings and monitors. Tessa’s silky black hair was twisted into a severe bun at the nape of her neck. She crossed herself in the cockpit next to Noah then pulled a small, silver crucifix from beneath her flight suit, kissing it before tucking it back inside.
“Ignition in ten, nine, eight, seven, six,” Noah counted down.
Tessa checked the gauges for signs of trouble. She nodded to Noah. Apparently everything checked out, but Cole’s heart hammered in his chest. Up until this point, the closest he’d been to space was the simulator at the Program. This was happening.
“Three, two, one. Ignition. Base. We have liftoff,” Noah said, pulling the lever to release the aluminum fuel into the blast of water that would thrust them toward their destination. He understood the science of it all, but there was a magical element that could never be explained away. He was about to go where less than a thousand people had yet to venture.
Space. The final frontier.
No shit.
The initial thrust pressed him against the shuttle chair, stronger than the most amazing carnival ride he’d ever been on. The ship had originally been designed for the space tourism Janson longed to implement but had been retrofitted for their needs. He rode in one of the tourist loungers, which meant he had a large, nearly-floor-to-ceiling portal to view through. For the first few moments, everything was a blur as they sped upward, nothing but clouds and blue sky interspersed. He tried to lean forward to peer downward, but the G-force held him firmly in place.