“Geeze, that isn’t all I want us to be,” she muttered.
He got up and stood in front of her.
“What?” she snapped.
He put his hands out and moved the top of her robe gently back to expose her shoulders.
“Get away you creep. Keep your hands off me,” she furiously exclaimed, as she stood up pushing him away from her, then put her empty cereal bowl in the dishwasher and disappeared into her bedroom in a huff.
“Wow, some reaction,” he thought and couldn’t help smiling to himself as he sensed her emotional level drop considerably.
Charlie finally came back out of her bedroom, dressed in a tight fitting pale-blue top and a short dark-blue skirt with matching shoes. Her auburn coloured hair flowed in shiny waves over her shoulders.
“You look stunning,” he said, actually meaning it.
Her blue-green eyes fixed on him.
“You do know I’m falling for you, don’t you.”
“Yeah, have to admit that’s obvious,” he said.
“Then, why don’t you show me that you feel the same? I know you do.”
“Come and sit with me please, Charlie,” he urged.
“The time isn’t right just now Charlie. We must concentrate all our efforts in solving these murders.”
“OK, but first, tell me how long ‘not now’ is going to be?”
“We’ll know when.”
She looked disappointed but knew she had to forget this for the time being. “Ok, Micky, where do we start?”
“Let’s begin with the two European victims that Cedrick thought might have a connection.”
“Alright, but what’s the connection?”
“He didn’t say, but it was apparently a very tenuous connection.”
He opened up Cedrick’s downloaded file, then clicked on the first name, Henri Alain Durand bringing up his file on the screen. He pasted the name into the ‘web’ search box and slowly started typing an addition to the search criteria.
“Micky. Come on, hurry up.”
“Give me a chance,” he muttered.
“What about ‘location’ to start with,” she said, urging him along.
He erased what he’d typed, and entered it, but misspelled the word.
“Move over,” she ordered, seeing him struggling.
He did so.
“Where on earth did you learn to type?” she asked with a hint of frustration.
“Never did learn to type,” he replied, amazed as her fingers moved rapidly over the keyboard.
“Here we are, Henri A Durand. He was French, lived in Paris, and was a banker,” she said as she continued typing.
“Ok, Micky. I’m checking his associations, his bank, and all his wired-deals?”
Nothing of interest came up on the screen.
“Nothing. No convictions. No affiliations. He’s pretty clean,” she added, then paused.
“Hello, I wonder what this is about. Assigned to Project Acarea?” she looked at him questioningly, then back at the screen.
“No, there’s nothing else. That’s all on Durand. So, what’s Project Acarea?”
“Well, Cedrick was hinting that these murders might have something to do with a spaceship project,” he answered and sat thinking for a moment.
“Try the next victim.” he suggested.
“Ok.”
Then, as he spoke, he sensed a heightened emotion in the surrounding area. This caught his attention. Because although he had been screening the area continuously, this was very close, and it felt as if the person who was exhibiting this emotion was very determined and focused on a particular course of action.
“Wait. Charlie!” he shouted.
Chapter 10.
Shots, in the Dark.
“Why?”
“Type the word ‘recorder,’ before we start on victim number two.”
“What for?”
“I think we’ve got a nosey parker.”
“Oh. Ok, I get it.”
Micky had sensed that one of their armed guards was recording their searches. The guard’s emotional level and its signature were that of a listener.
Charlie typed in ‘recorder,’ then waited.
Sure enough, the armed guard’s emotional level rose as he involuntarily checked his recorder.
Micky concentrated his mind and mentally followed the guard’s ‘gaze’ to the recorder that was sitting on the edge of his table.
Micky let his mind run slowly over the recorder. He could feel in his mind that it was there, but it was untouchable.
He concentrated harder, trying to go deeper to feel out the recorder in his mind. It was there. He felt it again, but it was still ghostly. Not tangible.
Then, as he continued, it slowly began to feel almost solid and touchable to him.
He dug deeper still, letting his senses roll over the recorder. Each time, the recorder became clearer in his mind.
What he did next, he had only attempted a couple of times before but decided that this was the right time to try it again.
He forced his mental ‘tendrils’ to run along one side of the guard’s recorder until he could definitely ‘feel’ it in his mind as an object.
Then he felt a different sensation. It was the same sensation he’d felt when he’d last used Kinetics to move an object. The time when he’d ‘sensed’ a greenish tint around his fingers.
Now he knew he could do it and he didn’t care that something else would be helping him.
He paused, took a deep breath. Then made one more almighty mental ‘push,’ to force the recorder to drop off the table.
He felt it move again in his mind, but wasn’t sure if he had succeeded. Until, suddenly, he sensed the guard’s emotional level rocket as he realised that something had knocked his recorder on to the floor and damaged it.
Micky flopped back into his seat, exhausted, noting that the greenish sensation in his mind was gone.
“I won’t do that again,” he told Charlie. Cursing himself under his breath for even trying.
“What did you do?” Charlie asked him.
“Well, the nosey-parker was one of our guards. I managed to move his recorder, knocking it off the table and damaging it.”
“How? By using your mental talent? This talent of yours, it’s not natural Micky. You must know why?”
“No. I don’t know.”
“Well, I reckon it would be everyone’s dream to be able to do things like that.”
“Maybe. Let’s just be thankful I can do it here and now.”
She gave him a long hard look, then started to search for information on the second victim on Cedrick’s list.
“Micky. Aren’t we just duplicating what Cedrick’s already done?”
“In a way, yes. But he’s only carried out a quick check on these victims.”
“True.”
He looked at Charlie, but she didn’t notice him staring at her. Then he smiled to himself as he realized that slowly and surely Charlie was growing on him.
He carried out another mental sweep of the area. But everything seemed Ok, with no abnormal emotions coming to light.
“Here we go,” she said after pasting the name into the search window.
“Harry J Blackstock. 48, English. Married with four children. Three boys and one girl. Ah, he’s in banking as well, in the procurement division.
I can’t find anything else of interest. Just two convictions for speeding,” she said grinning slightly at that.
“But, this is interesting Micky. No current address.”
She read on. “Wait. What have we here? He’s assigned to Project Acarea as well
Acarea’s got to be the link, Micky. What do you think?”
“Agreed. Let’s look at number three.”
Charlie entered the name of the next person on the list and started the search.
“H’m, this one isn’t in banking,” she said, then read the guy’s details to him.
“Professor Sidney Par
ker. 53, American, married with two children. He’s from New York State, in the town of Elizabeth, near Newark, wherever that is.”
“I know it. Elizabeth’s a town quite close to Newark International Airport.”
“Goodness,” Charlie said, interrupting him.
“Look at all these qualifications, including quantum physics. Do you know anything about that?”
“Well, quantum physics deals with how matter and energy behave, at atomic, molecular, and nuclear levels,” Micky answered, hoping he sounded as if he knew what he was talking about.
“Is that all the information you have on him?”
“No, the best is yet to come. Look at this,” she said, and he leaned over her shoulder to see her screen.
“He’s also assigned to Project Acarea. That’s all three of them so far.”
“Then there’s definitely a nuclear link to this Acarea project?”
Micky thought about it bit more. “Yep, it must be related. Maybe they are designing some sort of Nuclear engine or something like that,” he said.
“That’s got to be a possibility. What about your friend Tommy at Aldermaston. Is it worth talking to him again?”
“Yeah, I’ll ask him right now,” he replied. Checked that his scrambler device ‘Emma’ was active, then called Tommy.
“Hello, Tommy. Emma’s ‘happy,’ you’ll be glad to hear,” he said. Knowing that Tommy, on hearing his code word, would realise the link was secure.
“Good. So what do you want now?”
“Oh Tommy, tell me you missed me first.” Micky jokingly answered.
“Stop messing about, Micky. I’m busy.”
“Okay, I’ll come straight to the point. If you were going to power a giant spaceship. Is there some sort of nuclear-powered engine in the process of being designed that’s likely to be ready for testing anytime soon?”
“Well, no. Not now. NASA was working on the design of a nuclear pulse engine, and virtually everyone who was involved in the project agreed that it was technically feasible.”
“So, what do you mean when you say they ‘were’ working on it?”
“Because the project was shelved in 1964, with the signing of the nuclear ban treaty.”
“So, it’s a dead end then?”
“No. I’m not saying that. Things changed politically, about eleven years ago, and the project was re-instated.
The design has been approved but only for use in space. They won’t allow nuclear pulse engines to be used anywhere near the Earth.”
“But that doesn’t make sense. Any spaceship would then have to be built in orbit, which would make the whole project uneconomical?”
“Yes, I agree. But only if they had to design and build an orbital production facility. However, if they approve NASA’s latest proposal, it may well be an economic possibility.”
“And what’s that?”
NASA are proposing that the ship would be designed so that, as well as having a nuclear pulse engine, it would also incorporate strap-on rockets. These would take it about 20 million miles out in space. Then the nuclear pulse engine would be put into operation, to create the chain of nuclear detonations needed to propel the ship.”
“So, are you saying that you think it is a feasible proposition for the future, Tommy?”
“Yes. Is that it?”
“Yes. Thanks, old buddy.”
“You’re welcome,” Tommy said and ended the connection.
“So, someone’s already working on a Drive for this ship, for NASA then,” Charlie said.
“Looks that way. Try a search for it.”
Charlie tried several words to search for the information.
“I’ve got loads of info Micky, but nothing about anyone actually involved in designing or manufacturing anything remotely like it,” she said, then looked carefully at the screen again.
“Ah, that name Parker has come up again… There’s a reference to NPE… No. I can’t access it, it’s a Restricted site.”
“I bet NPE stands for the nuclear pulse engine. OK, search Parker’s personal data again Charlie. The more information we have on him, the better.”
Charlie started typing again and brought up a lot more information. Not just on Parker, but also seven other people who had similar qualifications. All of them she could see also had a connection with the NPE. Then she saw that four of them were also related to Parker.
“Looks like we’ve got a family of Einstein’s,” Charlie jokingly commented as Micky looked at the screen over her shoulder.
“Yeah, and with their qualifications they must be essential to the project. But how?”
He paused, thinking of the probabilities. Then nodded his head decisively.
“Yeah. It must be something to do with the design of the engine, and, without a drive, the project is going nowhere.”
“So, they need to be protected Micky.”
“Agreed. OK. Let’s check Cedrick’s fourth name next.”
Charlie continued typing, bringing up the data on her screen. “This one’s Russian, Micky. His name’s Alexander Mertoff. He’s 47, Russian and married with three children. Professor of Astronomy,” she added.
“Looks like the department that he works in isn’t named. Oh, Blimey, now access is blocked. So I can’t find anything else about him anyway. What do you think Micky?”
“Well, we have a couple of bankers, some nuclear experts and an astronomer. All of them probably essential to this project Acarea.”
“I agree. But why is someone trying to wreck the project?”
“Who knows Charlie? A grudge. A religious objection, like, not wanting humans to go to another star. Or someone’s dead against spending money on an expensive project. Any number of reasons.”
“So, what are we going to do now?”
“That’s easy, I’m going to New York.”
“Then, so am I.”
“Don’t you think that depends on your superiors? I’d like you to come, but I don’t think you’ll be allowed.”
“Blow that, I’ll come anyway,” she said determinedly.
“Well. Either way, you’d better find out now Charlie. Time is of the essence.”
With that Charlie immediately picked up the phone and called her police section, then tapped another key, selecting Speaker-On.
“Christine, sir.”
“Hello, Charlie. I hope that the American is behaving himself.”
“I have him wrapped around my little finger sir,” she replied smiling at Micky.
“However, sir.”
“Uh, oh. Here we go. Don’t tell me, it’s going to cost us? I can feel it.”
“Just a little, sir.”
“Go on then, surprise me.”
She looked at Micky again.
“We’re on to something big to do with these murders, sir. But I need to go to America with Micky. We need to go now, sir.”
“Tell him, Newark International,” Micky whispered.
She did, then closed her eyes and held her breath, expecting a sarcastic retort from her boss.
There was a long silence.
She opened her eyes. “Sir, are you still alive?”
Still no response.
“Talk to me, if you’re still there,” Charlie said beginning to think that he had dropped dead.
Then she heard him reply. “Christine, I’ve set up an account for you. I’ll email the account password to you now.
An officer will meet you at Heathrow with your bank card, police passport, and the rest of the documents you’ll need to get through immigration.
I’ve already reserved two seats on BA’s afternoon flight to Newark International. But I’m afraid you’ll have to pay for your priority tickets at the airport.”
He stopped speaking momentarily, then added. “When the ‘boy’ next to you stops pulling faces, as I’m sure he must be, tell him I’m making him responsible for your safety.”
“It will be my pleasure sir,” Micky quickly replied.
“H’m, I thought you were listening in, young man. Take note, my daughter is very precious to me.”
“Then, I shall take great care of her sir and thank you,” Micky said, gulping as he realised who Charlie had been speaking to.
Micky already felt a deep and growing attraction for Charlie. He was sure that she felt the same for him, but he knew that this in itself could be dangerous, especially for Charlie.
“Keep me informed, please Christine.”
“Of course. How on earth did you do all this setting up, in such a short space of time, dad?”
“I’m sure your American friend does the same. It’s simply a matter of how many favours you can call in.”
“Yes, you’re quite right sir.” Micky agreed.
Then Charlie’s laptop beeped as her father’s email was received.
“Ok dad, your files are in, thanks.”
“Take care, both of you. Oh, and remember, before you get on the plane you’ll have to hand that firearm over to your armed escorts.”
“Yes, of course. Bye for now,” she said, ending the call.
“We’ll inform the two guards downstairs that they’ve got to take us to Heathrow Airport. Then we’d better get on with our packing,” Micky ordered.
Half an hour later, after Micky had mentally scanned the local area again, they were on their way.
Chapter 11.
My Girl.
Micky checked the time. It was 11.15, and they were well on their way to Heathrow airport. Deciding to call Cedrick, he switched his phone to scramble mode.”
“Morning Micky, well, I say morning, but it’s only just about.”
“You’re awake, aren’t you?”
“I am now! So, what do you want?”
“We're catching the 16:30 flight out of Heathrow this afternoon, which should get into Newark International around 19:00 hours. But can you book two singles for us at the Hilton Newark hotel. Can you do it now please, and confirm.”
“Will do. I won’t ask why you’re not coming to Chicago.”
Death of Time (SpaceFed StarShips Series Book 4) 2nd Edition.: A thrilling, psychological, Mystery and Suspense, sci-fi detective thriller. (SpaceFed StarShips Trilogy) Page 7