James climbed from the bed, which creaked and groaned beneath him. Even the sofa bed had a story: Laura had bought it from a grizzled old man of indeterminate age, who’d claimed to have owned it along with he’d described as “the world’s most comfortable waterbed” for almost a hundred years. Despite the implausibility of that statement, Laura claimed to have believed him.
James made his way into the kitchen and began to rummage for breakfast. As alike in age and background as James Allison and Laura were, James had one set of experiences with which they could not yet hope to compare: He had seen the Ship up close and personal. He had survived what almost certainly would have been his own extinction by the hand of one killer and witnessed the death of his mentor at the hands of another. The coffee began percolating as he made this reflection. He admired the old-fashioned coffee percolator that Laura used. It made a better brew; a richer tasting coffee than a drip brewer. The scent of coffee soon brought the sound of a door opening and closing. Moments later a bleary-eyed Allison shuffled into the kitchen.
“James,” She said, clearly not expecting him. Habit dictated that it was Laura who’d make the coffee. She squinted and looked at the wall display.
“Fuck,” She said, “It’s only four.”
“I still haven’t adjusted to California time,” He said, “It’s five, to me.”
“James? Five O’clock is still too early.”
“You’re up; it’s four.”
“The coffee James; the smell of coffee always gets me up.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“S’all right,” She said, sitting down, “I’ll be happier when I’ve had a cup.” She lit a cigarette. He joined her as the coffee brewed.
“James?”
“Yeah?”
“You really have to learn to sleep in.”
♦♦♦
Bloom crossed the threshold into General Harrod’s office and saluted sharply. He gestured for her to sit down.
“Our teams finished putting together what happened, out there,” Bloom said, sliding an optic slip across his desk, “Based on observations from satellites, space and ground-based telescopes and telemetry, what we came up with is pretty surprising.” Harrod took the slip and dropped it into the reader of one of the consoles on his desk.
“Summarize,” He said.
“How much do you know about wormholes?” Harrod stared at her a long moment and shrugged.
“We did some work on the subject at Cheyenne Mountain,” Harrod said, “They’re a class of quantum string, as I understand it. Theoretically, one could be stretched open and form a gateway between two different points in space and time. Practically, however, it’s impossible.”
“Basically,” Bloom replied, “The physics are beyond me. But it looks like the Bug was able to open a wormhole between Earth and Uranus.”
“How?”
“If we still had the Bug here I still couldn’t tell you,” Bloom replied, referring to her notepad, “We didn’t even think it was possible to open a wormhole. The chain of events is like this: What we took for a targeting computer is in fact part of an elaborate navigational system tied directly to the Bug’s engines. When Harriman tried to key off the image of Uranus and power up the afterburners, he in fact started the sequence. His cameras and a nearby observation satellite recorded a flash of light near to the craft. The image you’re looking at now is particularly interesting.” On Harrod’s screen was the view from the satellite. The Bug was a green and gold speck just outside of Earth’s domineering form. The surrounding space was black, but there appeared to be an area even darker, ahead of the Bug. The visual was very poor; light and colour seemed to bleed out from the image.
“What happened?” Harrod said, “This picture is shit.”
“What we’re looking at is light from the nearby objects being drawn towards the event horizon of the Bug’s wormhole,” Bloom explained, “The next series of images records the Bug’s engines driving it toward and then into the wormhole.” Harrod watched the stills.
“We have video on this?”
“It’s still being analyzed,” Bloom explained, “What we have here is groundbreaking; revolutionary. An electromagnetic flux was recorded everywhere we have monitoring systems in the solar system. The Aurora Borealis was recorded over Utah, in broad daylight. By a stroke of luck, a science experiment measuring the solar system’s gravitational field recorded a micron-wide super gravitational string extending away from the Earth and out towards Uranus.”
“And what happened to the Bug? To Harriman?”
“We’re still collecting images from Uranus from one of the Earth orbital telescopes. We recorded a flash of extremely bright light in orbit around Uranus and it looks like it occurred a few seconds after the Bug disappeared from Earth orbit,” Bloom explained, “But we can’t say for sure what happened. We don’t know. Harriman’s a good pilot. If he’s still alive, and I think it possible that he is, he could even get the Bug back home. We hope.”
“In any event Lieutenant-Colonel, the whole matter is no longer of your concern,” Harrod said, with finality.
“What?” Bloom exclaimed, anger and outrage boiling up within her. He glanced up at her and regarded her for a long moment.
“You seem to attract attention Lieutenant-Colonel,” He said, “Early yesterday morning the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff contacted me. It appears you were recommended to the World Ship Summit by someone in the Pentagon. The Summit has asked that you be assigned to the Ship Survey Expedition.”
“What? Me?”
“Your work as an aerospace engineer seems to have qualified you for the position,” Harrod explained, “Someone from the Pentagon will be coming in this afternoon to collect you and brief you. You are going to the Ship Survey as an officer of the United States Armed Forces. As such, there will be certain…directives you will be expected to fulfill.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You have the rest of the morning to get your gear together,” Harrod said, “Dismissed.”
♦♦♦
TRANSCRIPT
INTERACTIVE NEWS NETWORK NEWSCAST
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PATH:INN<> HEADLINES >>INVESTIGATION INTO THE LAGUNA MURDERS ><
ANCHOR
Good morning and welcome to the Interactive News Network. The name of the assassin of Professors Scott and Echohawk has been released. Francis George Franck aged thirty-nine, formerly of Phoenix, Arizona. According to authorities Franck has been a member of the United Trinity Observants for the last ten years. INN reporters in Arizona were unable to learn much else about the man, who kept mainly to himself before joining the Church of the United Trinity Observants. Authorities are now working on determining whether or not the United Trinity Observants were directly involved in any way with the assassination despite denials issued by the cult and despite the condemnation of Franck’s attack by Gabriel Ashe, leader of the United Trinity Observants.
PATH:<>RELATED STORIES >>THE SHIP >>WORLD SHIP SUMMIT NAMES NEW HEAD OF THE SHIP SURVEY EXPEDITION ><
ANCHOR
The World Ship Summit has announced who will be the new head of the Ship Survey Expedition: Colonel Margaret Bloom. Bloom is one of the top test pilots in the United States Air Force and is reputed to be one of the best aerospace engineers to come from Government service in years. Bloom is also the ex-wife of the late Professor Mark Echohawk, who was at the time of his death the head of the Ship Survey Expedition. The Expedition itself is set to resume later this week, once the new head of security at the Site and added patrols have been put in place.
♦♦♦
Bloom found herself back at Space Command in Houston, recent site of what she had thought would prove to be the end of her career.
“I should have hijacked a space station years ago.” She was ushered into a different office in a different wing of the Administration building across the small courtyard from Colonel Hays’ office. The corner of her mouth turned up in a sneer at the tho
ught. He’d be shitting himself if he knew she was here. When her new Control Officer stepped into the office from a door behind the desk Bloom nearly shit herself as well. No lesser person than the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff presented himself. She rose to her feet, saluting immediately. His station alone demanded it. Here was the man who had ordered General Harrod to Concord Three; the man who’d ordered her flight group into Australian airspace fifteen years before. The Chairman had kept his position through four consecutive Presidential Administrations run by three different political parties. He was a hero of War Three, and had been a trusted advisor to three of those four Presidents, and a respected, trusted and often controversial public official.
“Lieutenant-Colonel,” He said, “Please, sit down.” He opened a file which held an optic slip and a sealed envelope. He placed the slip into his console and watched the screen a moment, keying something with deliberate precision into the console.
“Given your reputation and record,” he said, “I suspect you’d rather not stand on ceremony.” He slid the envelope across his desk. She opened it. Inside were two gold clusters.
“Therefore, consider yourself promoted to full Colonel.” Bloom actually gasped. She’d held the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel for the better part of ten years. After her second career court-martial before that, she’d never expected to advance farther than Major. Being promoted to Lieutenant-Colonel had been a shock. That she was now a full Colonel, with the privileges and duties implied therein, was inconceivable. More so, the detached analyst in her head remarked, than the existence of an alien Ship thirty-two kilometres across being buried in the New Mexico desert.
“I…I’m…honoured…”
“More thanks than I was told to expect,” The Chairman said, “Colonel Bloom I want to make something clear. Although you are assigned to the World Ship Summit, although the Ship Survey Expedition will probably be your command under them, you are still an Officer in the United States Air Force. And as such you will report your activities to my office, through General Harrod for the duration of your tenure. You will report all discoveries made about the Ship and you will be expected to carry out any orders you are given through this office; even if those offers are in conflict with orders given you by the Ship Survey Expedition. The worst you’ll face from them is expulsion from the SSE. Disobey me and you will face your last court-martial. I’ll make the charges of hijacking an orbital station look like a jaywalking conviction. Your primary concern is the national security of these United States. Is that understood?”
“Yes Sir,” The Chairman turned back to his desk and keyed a command into his console. A printer on the other side of the desk began shooting out sheets of paper into a tray facing Bloom.
“Among the burdens of command associated with being a full Colonel are certain facts, certain pieces of information and certain orders kept secret from the lower ranks,” The Chairman explained, “The file printing now contains a summary of that information. For now absorb the basics. As you’ve recently come from a posting at Groom Lake, I’ll assume you know the penalties for divulging top-secret information. You’ll be briefed in full later. You can take the printout to the study behind me. The printout stays in there when you are done.” Bloom collected the papers as they finished printing. The Chairman continued speaking.
“For expediency’s sake we have to get you to New Mexico as soon as possible. You’ll be briefed in full on your orders for that post after you’ve set up your command. I’ve decided that your command will also incorporate Site security, so the SSE will be moved into the base there. Fort…Arapaho, I believe it’s called. Congratulations, Colonel.”
“Thank you, Sir,” was all Bloom could think of to say.
Life is in constant motion. It is always evolving, forever changing. With change comes adaptation. With adaptation, comes learning. The price of failure to adapt has always been death. No greater change had happened throughout Human history than the discovery of the Ship. No greater opportunity for Humanity to learn, to grow. No greater potential for Humanity to fail, to die.
NINE
DISCOVERIES
Major Jack Benedict sat at his desk in the offices of Fort Arapaho. He was reviewing reports by Laguna Police Chief Sharon Raven, who had been assisting the military police with their investigation into the slayings of Professors Echohawk and Scott. Francis George Franck had indeed been a member of Gabriel Ashe’s cult, but there was nothing beyond that to tie the United Trinity Observants to the killings. Benedict finished reading the Police Chief’s report and closed down the screen. There was a note at the end of the report requesting that he linx her once he was through. Benedict slipped his earpiece on and keyed in Raven’s linx address. An instant later her image appeared onscreen in three-quarter profile. She looked at the screen momentarily before turning her gaze away again. Background noise filtering in over the linx made Benedict realize she was driving.
“Major Benedict,” She said, “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Benedict asked.
“No, right now we’re just patrolling around town,” She said, “I had to get away from my desk for a while. You read my report?”
“Yeah,” Benedict replied, “Ashe’s one clever son of a bitch.”
“Then you agree he’s behind this?”
“Him or someone high up in his organization,” Benedict said, “Looks like Francis George Franck was basically riled up by Ashe’s preaching. I’m willing to bet that was the idea.”
“We have to find some way of getting him,” Raven said, “We can’t prove that Franck was given specific instructions by Ashe; no witnesses to speak up. I know the Feds have people inside his organization, but they aren’t talking. What about the gun used in the attacks?”
“Bethesda’s got the gun,” Benedict replied, “No serial numbers and the ballistics registry’s turned up negative.”
“The ballistics registry is voluntary.”
“Thank you, NRA.”
“Even if the gun shows up in the registry we’d only be able to tie it to the original owner, if any, and trace it back through any crimes it was used in. While that might give us a chain of suspects to follow back to the person who supplied Franck with the gun, there’s no guarantee that it would lead to someone in the United Trinity.”
“More good news,” Benedict added, “I just caught a newsflash from INN. The World Court has turned down Washington’s request to expel the United Trinity Observants from the World Ship Preserve.”
“Theywidtre going to wind up regretting that decision,” Raven said.
“What makes you say that?”
“Experience,” Raven said, “I used to be a Fibbie; worked with ViCAP, the Violent Criminal Apprehension Program. Groups like this almost always wind up causing or being the cause of worse and worse trouble.”
“Wonderful,” Benedict growled, “I’m sure that’s just the sort of thing the new base commander’s going to want to hear.”
“Yeah…I heard she’s coming in today.”
“That’s right; Colonel Bloom.”
“I read in your jacket you two served together a few times.”
“A few times; she was my wing commander in Australia and she was Station Commander aboard Concord 3.”
“What can you tell me about her?”
“She’s a hard-ass. She’s had two court-martials; one for disobeying direct orders during the Australian Conflict, the other for assault with deadly intent. She was exonerated both times and the record expunged.”
“Impressive.”
“She’s always had a problem with authority and despite a natural command ability of her own, she’s avoided it as much as possible; even dodged squad leader when she was still a fighter jock. But when she is in charge, she’s the best you can have.”
“I thought she was commander of C-3.”
“Orbitals always have temporary command staff,” Benedict said, “And they’re almost alw
ays flyers who need to be kept busy when they’re grounded.”
“Is that what you think she’s doing here?” Raven asked, “Killing time?”
“No. She’s an engineer. Most flyers have some engineering skills. She has a lot of them. She’s going to roost.”
“Any idea why Bloom was selected?” Raven asked.
& nbsp;
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