Death of Time (SpaceFed StarShips Series Book 4) 2nd Edition.: A thrilling, psychological, Mystery and Suspense, sci-fi detective thriller. (SpaceFed StarShips Trilogy)

by Gerry A. Saunders

  As they opened the door, they stopped, and the tragedy of the event hit them both again as they saw Harry’s body being taken away.

  Seeing Pentrist, Micky hurriedly pulled himself together and went over to him.

  “My boss should have been in touch with your homicide department by now,” he advised Pentrist.

  “Cedrick, is that correct?”

  “Yes, that’s him.”

  “Yes, he’s already been in touch. You’re clear for now Mr Sanderson.”

  “Thanks, oh if you need me just call Cedrick. He’ll page me.”

  “Will do.”

  As they left, Micky thought, ‘Only clear for now,’ and sighed. Thinking. ‘Still, that’s the police for you.'

  They went down to reception and Micky ordered a cab, which arrived five minutes later. They got in, buckled up, then Micky checked the address on his phone and read the directions to the driver.

  “According to this map. It’s down Spring Road, turn off at the Anna Street junction. Our destination is down that street somewhere.”

  “I know the turn off to Anna Street. But it crosses Spring Road. So which side do you want?”

  “The Industrial side. I’ll tell you where to drop us off.”

  “Ok, you’re the boss.”

  The cab pulled out of the Hilton Hotel and headed off down Spring Road.

  “I think we’d better get out about halfway along Anna Street,” Micky said. “But before the Harry Street junction.”

  “Yep, that makes sense,” Charlie replied as she studied the map on Micky’s phone.

  A few minutes later, the cab reached the Anna Street junction and pulled to a stop until the traffic lights changed allowing the cab to turn into the street.

  “Go on down to the Harry Street intersection,” Micky instructed the driver. “We’ll get out there.”

  “Ok.”

  Moments later the cab stopped. They got out and Micky paid the driver.

  “If you want a taxi or bus to get back to your hotel. It’ll be easier if you walk up to the Spring Road junction,” the taxi driver advised them.

  “Thanks,” Micky replied, as the cab left.

  “I can’t see the Parker name on any of the doors down this road,” Charlie said as they walked along looking at each property.

  “Me neither.”

  “We’d better go on further down Anna Street then,” she suggested.

  “But it’s a long way right down to the industrial area,” she added, pointing to separate buildings.

  “Yeah, but we need to find them so come on let’s go.”

  Ten minutes later they hit gold.

  “There it is,” Charlie exclaimed in relief, as she looked at the Parker’s house, which was set back from the road, with its nameplate almost obscured by shrubs.

  “Well hidden. Don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, they obviously don’t want to stand out.”

  Chapter 14.

  Project Acarea.

  Micky scanned the area, mentally, as they walked up the short drive to the front door. He sensed two people inside, both of them with relatively high emotional levels. ‘Not surprising,’ he thought.

  “When they open the door, flash your Police ID card, Charlie, not too long or they’ll see that you’re from the UK.”

  “I know the drill, Micky.” Charlie quickly retorted.

  He noted that her emotional level had risen sharply, probably in expectation of meeting a hostile family.

  He rang the doorbell, and after a delay, a short, but attractive woman answered the door.

  “Yes, what do you want?” she asked speaking very abruptly.

  Charlie noted that the woman was wearing a wedding ring and looked as if she’d been crying.

  “We’re sorry to intrude. Mrs Parker is it?” Charlie asked, flashing her police ID card.

  “Yes,” the woman nervously replied.

  “We’re investigating your husband’s murder. We won’t keep you long, but there are a few things that we need to clarify. Then we’ll be out of your hair.”

  Micky immediately felt the woman’s emotional response and realised she was going to close the door on them.

  Reacting to this, he quickly scanned the other person in the house, realising with relief that it definitely wasn’t the killer.

  So he concentrated his mind on the man, in an attempt to fill his mind with a need to know who was at the door.

  Then heard the man say, “Let them in, mom.”

  ‘Well, it’s useful knowing that works,’ he thought to himself.

  “Oh, very well. You’d better come in then,” she said exasperatedly. “Come on, before I change my mind.”

  Charlie looked inquisitively at Micky; then both went in quickly before the woman could change her mind.

  The man came forward and stood next to his mother. He was young, about 24 years old Micky figured.

  “Sorry to intrude Mrs Parker. I’m Micky Sanderson. I’m an investigator with SEID. My division is attached to the Chicago police force,” he said, introducing himself as he showed them both his ID Card.

  “And I’m Christine Bernstein,” Charlie said showing her ID. “Everyone calls me Charlie,” she added, trying to relax them.

  “You seem to be an improvement on the last lot,” the woman reluctantly replied. “I’m Martha Parker. This is Timothy, my eldest son.”

  “Nice to meet you Martha, Timothy.”

  “You can call me Tim, most people do. So, what can we tell you that we haven’t already told the others?” he asked.

  Deciding there was no way to cushion them from the facts, Charlie spoke.

  “This morning, we believe that we were under attack by the same person that killed your husband,” she told them in a sad voice.

  “He tried to kill Micky, but made a mistake and a friend of Micky’s got killed instead.”

  “Why would he attempt to kill either of you?” Martha asked, sounded horrified.

  “And why was I able to ‘feel’ the presence of both you and the man who came here earlier?” asked Timothy, looking at Micky.

  Micky was taken aback at this news and quickly brought up the killer’s picture on his phone.

  “It’s not a very clear picture but does he look like the man you met?” He asked, showing it to them.

  They studied the picture for a few moments.

  “It is the same man who came here two days ago, mom. Isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Even though the picture’s a little blurred, I’m sure it’s him.”

  “Well, he’s the man that we’re looking for. I know that he has similar abilities to me. But I can assure you that we are nothing like each other.”

  “Yes, I can see that. Because when I felt him in my mind, I felt pure evil.”

  “And me?”

  “You’re different. I felt you in my mind just now and you were the exact opposite of him.”

  “Then you know you can trust us, Tim,” Micky said.

  “Yes, I really believe that we can,” he replied. Then turning to his mum assured her, “It’ll be alright mom.”

  “So, how were you able to sense him?” Charlie asked.

  “I can’t, nor can anyone else that we know of, except Micky.”

  “Well, ‘sensing’ may not be the best description of what I felt. But when Micky tried to influence me… it was…, yes, it was actually a very pleasant sensation.”

  “And what sensation did you get from him?”

  “Charlie, I can’t explain it very well. But… It was a depressing feeling. It was different, and as soon as I sensed him, he filled me with revulsion.”

  “H’m, I know that some people ‘sense’ something when I have to, well, mentally jab them,” Micky said. But was still perturbed by the fact that Timothy had been able to sense the killer.

  “Can you read minds?” Martha asked.

  “No, nothing like that Martha. Just changes in people's emotional levels, nothing more.”

 
“Then that’s obviously why he’s trying to kill you and Charlie,” Timothy said.

  “Maybe. I know that we’re alike in our abilities. I can feel him, and he knows it.

  I think that he believes I may be able to upset his plan, whatever it is. So, for him, it’s obviously important to remove me from the equation,” Micky paused to think for a while.

  “We know that all of his victims, so far, have been people who are involved in a project named Acarea. We know that your husband was a nuclear scientist and that he was also connected to the project. But. We would have expected the killer to go to your husband’s place of work. So the question is, why did he come to your home?” Micky ended.

  “How do you know about the Acarea project?” Timothy asked, surprised.

  “By our investigations into the seven people he’s already killed. We found that some of them were linked to the project and were specifically related to financing and procurement,” Charlie replied.

  “But your husband was a nuclear specialist, so what would his actual link to the project be?” She asked.

  There was a pregnant pause, then Martha reluctantly said, “You’d better tell them, son.”

  “But it’s top secret, mom.”

  “We need all the help we can get,” Micky pleaded. “Anything at all will help.”

  “OK,” Timothy replied.

  “So how much do you know about the Acarea project, Micky?”

  “Well. We know that several countries are working with some multinational organisations to build a massive spaceship. We don’t know which countries are involved or the names of the companies.

  We understand that the spaceship is being designed with the specific aim of sending it into outer space, to search for a Star system that has one or more planets suitable for us to colonise.

  And we know that the size of the ship and type of engine that will be needed to power it means that it will have to be built in Earth's orbit.”

  “Good so far. Go on.”

  “OK. From what we can gather it’s a long-term project. The ship won’t be completed for at least another seventy, or eighty years.”

  “And?”

  “Geeze. Ok, the spaceship is going to be propelled by something called a Nuclear-pulse drive. Which I gather operates a bit like throwing a continuous but controlled, stream of nuclear bombs out of the back of the ship, with each resultant explosion pushing the ship forwards.”

  “Then you know enough to understand our family’s interest in the project,” Timothy said.

  Then beckoned them to follow him as he turned and went through a solid looking door, leading into a large office.

  “Wow,” Charlie said as she looked around and saw that there were computers literally everywhere.

  Timothy sat down. Then started up one of the Pc’s, bringing up a technical drawing on the screen. This showed a massive, disc-like unit, with several mechanical objects attached to the back of it.

  “This is what we call a pusher plate,” he said and pointed out the main components as he continued to explain their part in all this.

  “The pusher plates will be 100 metres in diameter, one and a half thick, and manufactured in solid steel.

  In operation, the nuclear charges will be ejected, or rather released, through a hole in the pusher plate. See, this one here,” he said pointing at it on the screen.

  “The charge will then be detonated behind the ship, but only after the hole in the pusher plate has automatically closed.”

  “Well, it certainly looks impressive,” Micky said. “I imagine you’ll have to cast the plate in small sections to get it up into orbit,” he added, stating the obvious.

  “Yes. There’ll be thirty wedges in total, all of them assembled in orbit.”

  “That’s going to take quite a few years?” Charlie said.

  “More than thirty years, going by our current lift-capacity,” Timothy replied.

  “I can see that you find this all fascinating. So, do you want me to tell you a bit more?”

  “Yes,” they both answered.

  “OK, so when the ship finally sets off on its journey, the nuclear pulse engine will have to produce a hundred and sixty, 3 megaton charges, in total.

  Eighty of which will be needed to bring the ship’s speed up to nought-point-three of the speed of light.

  Then the ship will continue on under its own volition until it gets close to the target destination when it will be turned around by use of manoeuvring jets.

  After which the other eighty Nuclear charges will need to be lobbed out of the back of the ship, to slow it down again just before it reaches its destination.

  The whole trip is expected to take about sixty years.”

  “Geeze, that’s a long time,” Micky said.

  “Yes, and scientists are already working on solutions to any side-effects personnel may suffer during such a long voyage, especially those who aren’t in stasis.”

  Then Micky asked, “What’s that section between the main ship and the pusher plate, Tim?”

  “The storage and feeder system for the nuclear charges. Then, the two huge, black objects, which are set between the storage-feeder and the habitable part of the ship are the shock-absorbers. Without them, the ship would vibrate and eventually fall apart.”

  “So what exactly was your father’s involvement in all of this?” Micky asked.

  “My father and I own Parker Industries. Or we did, I suppose it’s just me now,” he said looking upset. Then pulled himself together.

  “Anyway, my father was the chief designer of both the pusher plate assembly, and the shock-absorbers,” he stopped again, for a moment.

  “But, two other companies will eventually be involved. Because we’ve always known, we won’t have the manufacturing capacity to cast all thirty of the pusher plate wedges.”

  “Ten wedges each company, then?” Charlie asked.

  “Yes, and the amount of molten steel that has to be cast each time is unbelievable.”

  “What about the stuff that’s attached to the back of the plate?” Micky asked.

  “You mean the nuke delivery system. Cebro International are designing this. We’re liaising with them.”

  “So, how do you intend to ferry the pusher plate wedges and other large sections into space?”

  “That’s still a problem and one of the reasons why the project’s going to take a lot longer than planned. As I said, we simply don’t have the lift capacity at present, But we’re getting there, although very slowly,” Tim replied.

  The manufacturing of the shock-absorbers is another problem. The project leaders haven’t found anyone capable of producing them as yet. And now, with my father’s murder, it seems as if the problems are going to go on adding up,” he finished.

  Micky pondered for a while, before replying. “Yes, it looks as if there are plenty of ways in which this killer could still derail the whole project.”

  “I agree. If we fall behind, or fail for any reason. Then the entire project could be delayed, or even scrapped,” Tim added.”

  “If someone wanted to change the course of history, Tim. Would you agree that this project, and, in particular, what your company is working on, would be a good place to start?” Charlie asked.

  “Put like that, then yes, it’s possible,” Timothy agreed.

  “Then, with your father’s murder, the course of history may already have changed,” Martha suggested.

  “No. Not necessarily, Mom. All of the plans have already been passed by the donor nations.”

  “But still?”

  “No, Mum. Agreed, the father did the primary work, but he wasn’t alone. Many able scientists are working on the project.”

  “Then maybe this killer just wants to delay the launch?” Martha added.

  “Perhaps. Maybe that’s all he needs to do,” Micky said as he mentally scanned the area again.

  “There is one other thing, which may, or, may not be relevant,” Timothy added, sounding tho
ughtful.

  “Anything out of the ordinary would help, at the moment,” Micky replied.”

  “Well, most of our workforce felt… something. I can’t explain it very well…But we’re all sure that, at the exact moment when my father died…,”

  “Go on,” Charlie encouraged.

  “It was like…um… something had changed. It’s hard to explain… But it was a weird feeling.”

  That worried Micky… Had a change in the Timeline already taken place?

  “Can I have a copy of the photo of this man and his weapon, to copy to our team?” Timothy asked.

  “Sure. Here, download the photos to your PC,” Micky said as he handed over his phone.

  Moments later they had been distributed to Tim’s team.

  “Thanks,” he said. “At least now we’ll all recognise him if he comes around again.”

  “By the way, this Cebro International Company, where are they located?” Micky asked.

  “Philadelphia. Do you want their address and contact details?”

  “Please. You had better send them a warning along with the photos of the killer and his weapon. You never know he may turn up there next.”

  “But, my husband was killed days ago, Micky,” Martha pointed out. “The killer’s probably done what he needed to do by now.”

  Micky felt her sadness as her emotional level increased, then fell back again.

  “You may be right Martha. But we must still let them know, just in case.”

  “I’ll send them to Doctor Hanson as well,” Timothy said as he emailed the photos together with a message to Cebro International’s HQ.

  “What about your security department and the Police? Don’t you need to warn them?”

  “Well, we’ve taken on a new security firm. They’re pretty much up to speed and the operators are all fully armed, as are the police. But, yes you’re right, they’ll need to see the photos.

  The police also carry out regular drive-by checks, so at least we’re better prepared now. But you know as well as I do that no matter what measures you take, you can’t actually protect everyone 24/7 anyway, Micky.”