“No, other than to say that Earth would never be able to threaten us again. He’s even keeping Peanut and Chuck in the dark!” Patricia said, still slightly miffed, but smiling. “Would you and Joy like to come by for dinner tonight? I’m sure Ben would love to spend some time with her again. As long as she doesn’t have too much homework or any projects she has to work on we’d love to have you over.”
“That sounds like a good idea. How about around six? Anything we can bring?”
“Nope. Ben and I will take care of everything. How about home-made pizza? It’s his favorite and the two of them can make it together,” Patricia suggested.
“Sounds like a winner. We’ll see you then!”
* * *
The spaceships hovering over Lake Michigan had drawn a lot of attention from local authorities as well as the people in the area. Before dark more than a hundred boaters had gathered in the waters beneath the ships and a constant stream of news and traffic helicopters circled the area, though giving the ships a wide berth. Five thousand feet above the surface of the lake, air force fighters were on patrol, keeping visual contact with the ships. Once the sun went down, the Coast Guard and local police department marine units were scheduled to light the ships from below.
Inside their jumper, Christopher and Andrea were eating dinner, every now and then taking a look at the camera feeds pointing both down to the surface of the lake and above at the fighter coverage. The plan was to remain over the lake, away from Chicago’s downtown lights, drawing the attention of the locals and authorities away from the pickup zone just offshore at Navy Pier. Chuck, Chris and the ground crew were keeping in constant contact, feeding everyone information.
Lena and Albert were wandering around the pier like tourists, keeping track of the four federal agents, trying to see if they could spot additional law enforcement personnel deployed in the area. Neil had locked the truck and left to scout the farthest end of the pier jutting out into the lake. He was looking around for the best place for him to post up the scuba gear as well as the best location for them to slip into the water.
As he walked along the end of the pier looking out over the water, Neil saw that they would have to swim out past the breakwater in order to get to clear water. He was quite sure the water was too shallow for a jumper to safely enter without being seen or possibly getting trapped. He estimated that they would have to swim at least a hundred yards before reaching the opening in the breakwater, and then however far past it to where the jumpers could sit safely out of sight on the bottom.
Just as he was walking back toward the garage, Neil saw a couple of unmarked Chicago PD squad cars park in the turnaround at the front entrance, and he noticed two more cars down the block. He radioed the update to the others and added Chuck and Todd to the call as he described the location of the breakwater, and both jumpers set out underwater to cover it.
Neil strolled around the pier, giving the rest of the ground crew a running commentary on the CPD cars and officers in the area. Lucius suggested that they could be there on routine patrol since the evening dinner hours were coming and that traffic was bound to increase. On the way back to the truck, Neil spotted a two-wheeled dolly sitting in a back hallway. He “borrowed” it and brought it back to the truck, also grabbing a length of discarded twine. Inside the truck he tied the case containing their masks and tanks loosely to the dolly. He left once more to grab a hotdog and a drink for some energy later, in the process noting that the unmarked police cars hadn’t moved. He did a complete walk around the pier, marking the locations of likely plain clothes officers, passing the information onto the rest of the team. Now it was just a matter of waiting for darkness to fall.
* * *
“Deep breath, John,” the doctor said, then moved the stethoscope to another location on his back. “Again, deep breath. And one more … good! Roll up your right sleeve,” the doctor said, wrapping the blood pressure cuff around John’s upper arm.
“Not bad, a little high but that’s to be expected. We’re going to take some blood samples now. Do you have any questions?” asked the doctor.
“How soon will I get my Earth legs back?” asked John.
“A couple, three or four days. You’re going to be tired for a few days while your body gets accustomed to being under gravity again.”
“How’s the ship, have you heard?” John asked.
“It’s never going to fly again, if that’s what you mean. We’ve got no way to get it back into orbit, not without taking it apart. That’s why we built it in space in the first place. What’s this here?” the doctor said, pressing down on a bruise on John’s forearm.
“Ow! Easy, dammit! I smacked it when we were helping each other climb out of the ship,” John said, yanking his arm out of the doctor’s grip.
“Sorry, I just wanted to make sure there was no hardening underneath. No need letting a hematoma form under there. Okay, you can hop down and get dressed, we’re done for now. If you notice anything out of sorts, let someone know immediately. You’ll be staying on campus for a few days yet. When you’re dressed, just come on out and someone will take you to your quarters. Good to have you home, John,” the doctor said, shaking his hand.
“Thanks, doc,” John said to the doctor’s receding back.
Once he had his sneakers tied, John left the room only to find a golf cart with a driver outside, Bianca and Chester already seated. John took the last seat in the back and couldn’t help but smile at Chester’s wide grin.
“You know, I usually get dinner before someone pokes me like that,” Chester said as the cart took off.
“I vaguely remember what that’s like,” John said. “Are your legs as tired as mine?”
“They are, and I’m going to have to get something for my allergies, too. My eyes are killing me,” Chester replied. “I was really getting used to breathing clean, filtered air on the ship!”
Bianca turned around and asked John if he had dinner plans. When he confessed he did not, she suggested they get together wherever the NASA medical crew were going to let them eat.
When John got to his assigned room, he found his clothes and the rest of his belongings all sitting on the bed. The first thing he did was plug in his mobile phone to get it charged up. As he did so he realized he was liable to have hundreds, maybe thousands of emails to deal with. He knew Seneca had kept an eye out for anything critical, but even so, dealing with the rest was something he wasn’t looking forward to.
John took a shower and put on fresh clothes. A few moments after he finished dressing, he heard a knock on the door. When he answered, he was surprised to see Dr. Milton. Milton smiled and stuck out his hand, saying, “Welcome back to terra firma, John. You’re looking well.”
“Thank you very much. Please, come in.”
John looked around but found no coffee maker or even a refrigerator. “Tell you what, I need some coffee. Is it all right if we go somewhere?” John asked.
“Absolutely, I know just the place,” Milton said.
Milton led them to the building’s cafeteria where John got a cup of coffee and a banana, while Milton got tea and then led them to a quiet corner
Once they were seated, Milton asked, “How are you feeling? Wobbly legs?”
“A little. Kind of tired too. But it’s great to be back, the whole mission seems kind of like a dream now. So, what’s up?”
“A couple of things. I’m curious about your experiences out there, both as a reluctant astronaut and the only person who has been in a real conversation with a member of the separatist group. But let’s start with the astronaut thing. Given the fact that you were the first, completely untrained civilian we ever sent up, did you have any difficulties on the mission?”
John thought about it for a few moments before he answered. “The one thing that sticks out was trying to sleep in zero-G. The first few nights I had a hell of a time. I
can’t tell you how many times I woke up with that falling sensation jerking me out of sleep. I think a couple of times I remembered falling in a dream, but not always. As for the training, that went just fine. I was studying all the way out to the colony. And I really liked suiting up and going outside the ship. The view was always breathtaking. It also reminded me of just how small we are, especially our planet. It was a blue oasis in the universe, just hanging out there alone. I realized how many people take this planet for granted.”
“Believe it or not there’s a name for that feeling; it’s called the ‘overview effect.’ It has been known to change people’s attitudes, the ones who experience it,” Milton explained. “Did it hit you early on?”
“I don’t remember. But it was before we arrived in orbit. Something of it was in the background when I was talking to Sydney, like how can this country be so messed up it drove a race of people to leave the planet? By the way, no one told us, or at least me; did the people who were being held from the colony get released?” asked John.
“According to the president’s chief of staff, they were released earlier today. But that’s all I know. The Russians didn’t get off so lightly for firing the rockets at your ship and the colony. Their mission control facility was destroyed by one of the separatists’ ships. No one was hurt, but someone is going to have to rebuild a multimillion-dollar facility for their trouble. And, the entire Svoboda crew is in custody at The Hague because the U.S. and the U.N. are pressing charges for the attack. Word around the street is that it was the colonel who shot at you, but prosecutors are really going after the people who installed the weapons on the ship. What did Sydney Atkins say about the attack?” Milton asked.
“Not much. She had me get Dr. Roscoe and Ambassador Ortega in the room and then she read them a mini riot act about releasing their people down here. So we had a couple of them in custody for over a week?”
“We did. I thought it was pretty stupid, thinking that there was any way to negotiate for their technology while we held their people. When we held the commission under President Bender I quickly tired of the games politicians and the military play. Placing arbitrary values on people, how many are an acceptable loss or do you kill to prove just how far you’re willing to go in achieving your goals is insane,” said Milton, then he paused. “May I speak confidentially with you, John?”
“Of course. I promise it will go no further.”
“I never thought the mission would achieve its goal of bringing back the separatists’ technologies. As a matter of fact, the name we’ve stapled to them, separatists, though descriptive, obviously isn’t what they call themselves. If they have such little regard for us that they don’t even tell us their name for themselves, what hope could there be of any kind of mutual ground being achieved?”
“Then why spend a half a trillion dollars on a mission? Why did you even bother?” John asked.
“Because of the collateral technologies we gained. And, even though it technically belongs to GST, we now have a construction facility in orbit. The creation of the Jove probe was the most successful private/public collaboration in history, and is going to lead to regular flights to and from the moon. Nobody’s forgotten about those men stranded up there, and with current research suggesting that lighter gravity and good diet can lead to longer life, we’re looking at a booming market in lunar tourism, geriatrics and even immigration. But what I wanted to ask you, is whether or not you think anyone at the colony will consent to talk to anyone here on Earth again, including you and Atkins.”
“She told me that we had spoken for the last time, and she seemed quite definite on the matter. I don’t see it happening, especially if something happens to their people when they try to leave the planet,” said John.
Just then two suits entered the cafeteria and when they spotted Dr. Milton and John they made their way directly to the table.
“Dr. Milton, Mr. Mathews, please excuse the interruption but Mr. Mathews is needed in Chicago right away,” said one of the suits, holding out a Department of Homeland Security badge and ID.
“What’s this all about?” John demanded. “I just got back on the ground, can’t it wait?”
“I’m afraid not, sir. There’s a jet on the tarmac and a ground crew waiting to get you suited up, sir.”
“I’m sorry, you haven’t explained what the God damned hurry is,” said John.
“Yes, I’m curious why this man, who hasn’t been released by Medical by the way, has to go jetting off,” Milton added.
“I don’t have that information, sir. Mr. Mathews will get further information en route or when he lands. But we have to leave now. Come with me, sir,” the agent said as the second agent moved behind John.
Holding up his hand to stop Milton’s protestations, John got up from the table and said, “I’ll be back—probably.”
The three quickly left the cafeteria and when they exited the building, John was directed to the front seat of a waiting sedan, the engine already running. One of the agents got in the back seat and the other behind the wheel. After a quick trip to the heliport, John and one agent got into a Blackhawk helicopter and strapped in. Moments later the helicopter took off and headed toward Ellington Airport.
Ten minutes later they were circling around the airfield John recognized as the one he and the other members of the Jove crew took off from in the Vomit Comet. The Blackhawk landed and the DHS agent and John exited the aircraft, moving quickly, heads ducked low, to a waiting jeep, which took them to a waiting T-38 Talon. John saw the pilot doing a visual inspection of the aircraft, and then was ushered inside the hangar to get suited up for the flight.
When he was dressed and waiting for an airman to find a helmet that fit John’s head better to return, the DHS Agent closed the door to the room and said, “Here’s the deal, sir. There are at least two members of that colony you just came back from still around, and you’re the only man on Earth they seem willing to talk to. What the president is hoping is that you can convince them to stay in contact with us, to maintain some line of communication even if it’s only between you and Atkins,” he said, handing John two photographs.
“Those are the two we had in custody. We know where they are, and we’re doing our level best to get you to them before they take off. This is why you’re here—and soon to be in Chicago. I know you probably aren’t feeling your best, but your country needs you, the president needs you.”
“Get the fuck out of here! Didn’t the president see Sydney telling me that we were never going to speak again?” John said in exasperation.
“I don’t have that information, sir. You will be met and taken by helicopter to the separatist’s location to make contact with them. After that, you’re on your own,” the agent said.
John didn’t say anything. He just shook his head in disbelief. When the door opened and an airman entered with a different flight helmet, John was happy for the distraction.
“Try this on,” the airman said. When he pulled it on, John said, “Much better.”
Looking at the agent, the airman asked, “Are we ready to go, sir?”
The agent looked at John to see if there was anything else he had to say. When John didn’t say anything, he said, “We’re ready.”
The airman led them out of the hangar to the waiting jet. At the rolling stairway to get in the rear seat of the aircraft, the agent stopped him, shook his hand and wished him good luck.
John climbed into the cockpit and carefully lowered himself into the seat. The airman who followed him up the stairs began to get John situated, first straightening out the jumpsuit.
“You went to the can inside, didn’t you?” the airman asked, grinning.
John laughed and said, “Yeah, I’m fine.”.
“Now this won’t be as exciting as going into orbit, but these T-38s can be fun. Major O’Neil will be driving this buggy. Just pay attention to ever
ything he says and don’t play around with any of the buttons or levers back here. Let’s get your helmet on and mask in place,” said the airman, who was holding out a piece of gum. “The air’s pretty dry in the mask, this should help. Just make sure not to swallow it.”
“Thanks,” John replied as he unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth.
His seat harness was buckled and tightened. Then came the helmet, and finally the mask. While he was being buttoned in, the pilot also boarded the aircraft, strapped in and began his pre-flight checklist.
The airman knocked twice on John’s helmet and gave him a thumbs up to let him know he was squared away. Seconds later the built-in headset crackled and Major O’Neil asked, “All set back there, Mr. Mathews?”
“I think so, and just call me John.”
“John it is! Our flight time should be a little over an hour and we’ll be landing at O’Hare. From there I’m told a helicopter is going to take you somewhere downtown and you’ll be met by someone who’ll bring you up to date on the local situation. We could make it there on one tank of gas, but for safety’s sake we’ll be refueling along the way. I was going to ask you if you have any problems with motion sickness, but scuttlebutt is you’ve been in space. Anyway, I don’t have any acrobatics planned for this flight,” the major said as the engines started up. “Apparently someone wants you in Chicago pronto. Anything you can tell me about it?”
“How much do you know? Do you even know who I am?” John asked.
“Just that you’re a former cop and that you’ve just recently returned from space. They don’t pay me to make guesses, just follow orders.”
Confrontation Page 61