Confrontation

by William Hayashi

  As the conjoined craft cleared the exterior airlock door, the SEALs were able to see that the exterior door was slowly closing. When they felt the door close, they heard the pumps filling the cavernous interior of the lock with air. A voice startled them, announcing over the airlock intercom for them to stand clear of the inner door.

  The SEALs took whatever meager cover they could as the interior door slowly opened. They heard a woman say, “Gentlemen, lower your weapons. If we wanted you dead we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You will leave everything behind except for whatever clothing you are wearing. Those I see in space suits may keep them on. Be advised that the compartment between our two ships provides a safe environment that will sustain you for the ride to Earth. You have three minutes to drop your weapons and enter the compartment before I vent the atmosphere of this outpost.”

  “Can you hear me?” Chief Pritchett shouted.

  “Yes, I can.”

  “How do we know that you’re really going to take us back to Earth? What assurances do we have?” he demanded.

  “Look, asshole. It was you all who decided to come to our home armed with weapons the British assured you would fire in a vacuum, remember? I don’t think you have any right to demand shit from us. You now have two minutes before I vent the atmosphere. Now what’s it going to be, boys? After today there will be no possibility of a rescue or resupply. I would think after ten years of cooling my heels in this outpost, nice as it is with the Apollo 13 hardware and all to keep me company, I’d want to go home. One minute … ” Andrea said, shutting off the intercom and watching through the rear camera of the jumper.

  Seconds later she saw the seven soldiers bounding toward the open airlock door of the compartment. Once they were all inside, she signaled Regina to trigger the compartment door to close and seal. She laughed when she noticed that someone had tried to erase Christopher’s “Whitey Go Home” sign painted on the inside wall. Ten years is a long time with nothing to do, she thought.

  “All secure, Gina?” she asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Simon, you guys ready over there,” she radioed the crew of the other jumper.

  “Right on! My controls are slaved to yours. But do we have to vent the outpost to space? It seems such a waste,” Simon said.

  “Those are Christopher’s orders. This place is not to be used by anyone, except us, ever again.”

  “Jesus Christ. Okay, initiating atmospheric seal override,” Simon announced.

  The interior lights changed from their bright daylight hue to blinking red as the display counted down from thirty seconds to zero, then the lights turned solid red as the air bled out into the vacuum of the moon’s surface through vents above the door.

  The SEALs couldn’t see anything outside, but could hear a slight creaking as the pressure outside the compartment diminished. The air inside was clean-smelling, but there was nothing inside except a dozen seats attached to the floor. The lighting was subdued, doing nothing to alleviate the impression they were in a cargo container. The SEALs were silent, wondering if this was to be their last few minutes of life in cruel revenge for their coming to the moon to attempt to obtain the colonist’s technologies at gunpoint.

  Simon triggered the inner airlock to close. Once it was secure, he disabled the mechanism, ensuring that no one could enter the installation without destroying the massive airlock doors.

  When all the atmosphere of the outpost was vented, he triggered the outer airlock door to open so Andrea could maneuver the conjoined spacecraft outside. As the ships cleared the outer door, Simon locked the door behind them.

  When she was clear of the rock overhang, Andrea piloted them straight up several miles, then set course around the bulk of the moon directly toward Earth. Estimated duration of the trip, forty-five minutes.

  The SEALs were weightless in moments. Fortunately, Davis was the only one to experience discomfort and disorientation enough to almost vomit, but through sheer will was able to hold it down.

  When it appeared that they were going to live after all, a few of the SEALs began hushed conversation, speculating where they were going to be dropped off and what kind of reception they were going to receive.

  Anderson and Fisher got into an argument over whether or not they were going to receive combat pay for the entire decade they spent on the moon, their speculations and comments cracking the others up.

  Thirty minutes into the flight, the same woman’s voice announced that they should all remain in their seats, buckled, in as they were going to enter Earth’s gravitational field very soon. The reminder that they hadn’t experienced a one-G field for over a decade sobered them up quickly as they wondered what effect the higher gravity was going to have on them. When Pritchett tried to ask the woman questions about where they were going to land, trying to elicit any information at all, there was no response.

  As they approached the atmosphere, Andrea radioed the space station and had the A.I.put the location of the Johnson Space Center’s clinical operations division onscreen. As they entered Earth’s atmosphere, Andrea slowed their forward progress to prevent overheating of the rescue compartment. Taking it easy, it took twelve minutes to descend to five thousand feet above ground as she flew toward Houston. A few minutes later she began her descent as Simon called the chief of the facility to inform them that the SEALs were inbound and would be needing medical assistance.

  Simon and Damien were on the lookout for any military aircraft in the area, but only spotted a couple of helicopters off toward the city. Andrea circled around, trying to find a place to land, when she spotted a man in a jeep with flashing blue lights signaling by waving his hand for the ship to follow it toward the facility’s heliport. As she approached the marked landing area, she saw several ambulances and nonmilitary jeeps heading toward the heliport.

  “Shields at maximum, Simon,” she announced.

  “Beat you to it. This shit is weirding me out.”

  “Me too!” Damien chimed in.

  “Stand by to disconnect,” Andrea announced. “Once we let go, I want you to bounce to eighty thousand feet.” She paused to rotate slightly so they wouldn’t crush some perimeter lights.

  When they felt the touchdown, Andrea immediately signaled to detach. Seconds later both ships were at eighty thousand feet, and Andrea watched onscreen as medical personnel converge on the compartment.

  “That’s it. Let’s get back into orbit. We still have work to do.

  * * *

  On the ground, the director of medical care, Dr. Steven Lawson, was coordinating the staff as they prepared to evacuate the SEALs to the treatment wing of the facility. Emergency medical technicians were inside the compartment, making sure the soldiers remained seated until stretchers could be brought, but first their vitals were being taken. Every member of the SEAL team was short of breath and felt like they weighed hundreds of extra pounds. Oxygen masks were secured over their faces, then they were helped onto stretchers to be removed for transport to the medical wing.

  Dr. Milton arrived just as they were being wheeled out of the container and loaded into ambulances. He saw the director, sidled up to him, and waited, not wanting to interrupt. When there was a break in the action, he asked, “Can you believe it?”

  “Hell no,” replied Lawson. “Talk about your dropping out of the blue.”

  “What kind of shape are they in?”

  “Ten years in one-sixth-G on subsistence rations, it’s hard to guess what we’re dealing with. They all wanted to try to walk out under their own power but I put the kibosh on that. I’ll tell you this, more than one paper on their condition and rehab is going to make it into the medical journals over the next year. I can’t say if they’re ever going to be able to function normally again. As soon as they’re inside, I’ll put on the full-court press and have them thoroughly checked out,” Lawson said as he turned to leave. “He
y, do me a favor?”

  “Anything, Steve, name it.”

  “Put a lockdown on the press,”

  “Good idea,” Milton said, pulling his mobile out.

  As he ordered the area around the medical facilities closed to outside visitors and for extra security to patrol the area, he waved goodbye to Lawson and hurried back to his office to contact the White House to bring the president up-to-date.

  President Laughlin surprised Milton when he took the call personally.

  “Paul, we could see their ship stop at the installation on the moon, then followed it down to your neck of the woods. I’m hoping the SEALs were brought to your people.”

  “That’s right, Mr. President. They’re being looked after right now. I can put you or Ms. Dawkins on the distribution list if you’d like.”

  “Send everything to Debra, I’m keeping an eye on their ships. After the Russians fired a nuke at them I’m worried about what the separatists long game is going to be. Keep us apprised of the condition of those men. The Pentagon knows that the SEALs are home so expect someone from the military to be stopping by.”

  “Very good, Mr. President. Would you like for me to speak with Ms. Dawkins now?”

  “Save it until you know something. Anything you need though, let her know. You have my full support in getting those soldiers up to snuff.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President. Is there anything else you can think of?”

  “No, Paul, thanks for all you do,” Laughlin said, then hung up the phone.

  * * *

  Once the two jumpers reached orbit, Andrea got in touch with Simon and Damien.

  “Okay, we’ll take the GST personnel and you’re off to the International Space Station. If either of us needs help we’ll call, agreed?”

  “Roger that, Andrea. Be careful, as will we,” Damien replied.

  Andrea turned her jumper toward the GST’s SkyHub. When they were within sight of the station, Regina radioed and connected to one of the personnel on station.

  “We are here to evacuate you back to Earth. Please make your way to one of the escape capsules. We will conduct you to back to the surface.”

  “Who are you? We have no orders to leave. I have to get authorization before we power down the station, and that takes hours,” a very confused man radioed back.

  “Sir, I assure you that you have no time to do anything more than to make your way to the escape capsule, nothing else. If you do not, we will de-orbit the station and you will burn up in the atmosphere as the station goes down. This is your last warning,” Regina said.

  “The station is trying to contact ground control on another channel,” the Genesis clone informed then. “Their transmission has been blocked.”

  “Sir, as you can see, there is no one for you to consult. How long will it take everyone to get suited up and into the capsule?”

  “Um … Well, we can evacuate in less than ten minutes in an emergency—”

  “Then I suggest you get a move on,” she said, interrupting.

  “But we can’t!”

  “You have ten minutes. Then we’re going to drop the entire station into the ocean,” Regina said, laughing soundlessly as Andrea snickered, her mouth covered trying not to be overheard.

  “The countdown begins … now!”

  “They have ceased attempting to communicate with Earth,” the A.I. informed them.

  “Thank you, G2,” Andrea said. “Let’s hope they’re scrambling to get into their suits.”

  Less than ten minutes later they saw the exterior lights began to flash as the capsule was powered up.

  “Are you still out there?” the same person Regina spoke to radioed.

  “We are. Is the capsule secured?” she asked.

  “It is.”

  “Then disconnect from the station,” Regina ordered. They watched as the capsule released, then slowly drifted away from the station. Andrea moved in closer as Regina manipulated the tractor emitters to pull it up next to the jumper.

  “Got it?” Andrea asked.

  “Yep, we’re good to go.”

  The jumper and its external cargo turned and began to descend into the atmosphere as Regina extended the ship’s shields to protect the capsule; then Andrea kicked the jumper into high gear as they headed for the Johnson Space Center once again.

  * * *

  President Laughlin, General Cleary, Robert Abbott and several others were watching the feed from the Shelter 14 detector.

  “If I had to guess, Mr. President, it looks like they’re evacuating everyone from space and returning them to Earth. That other ship will arrive at the ISS in minutes and I’ll bet my pension that those scientists are going to be brought home as well,” said Cleary.

  “But then what? What’s their next move?” asked Abbott.

  “That’s the question, isn’t it?” Laughlin said, tossing a packet of large photos across the table. “Here’s what I’m worried about, what’s that space station doing out there? What is its purpose? It definitely says they’re here to stay; at least for the near term.”

  “I’m guessing whatever happens to us, it’s bound to be a hell of a lot worse for the Russians.” Laughlin raised his voice as he turned toward Agent Andrews, stationed by the door. “And if the director of the Secret Service thinks I’m going to plant my ass down here for the duration of my term in office, he has another think coming!” said to laughter from everyone present.

  * * *

  “Wake them up!” Simon said to Damien when their jumper arrived at the ISS.

  “Attention, International Space Station, please respond,” Damien radioed.

  Moments later someone answered. “This is Holliman on the ISS, Houston. What’s up?”

  Damien chuckled as he replied. “This is not Houston. You are being ordered to make your way to the Soyuz escape capsule and prepare to be evacuated to Earth.”

  “Who the hell are you? We aren’t leaving on your say-so!” Holliman exclaimed.

  “You have fifteen minutes to get sealed up in the Soyuz before we de-orbit the ISS into the atmosphere. This is your last warning.”

  “What the f—,” Holliman began as Damien and Simon heard several other voices raised in the background before the transmission was cut. A minute later the channel was opened again.

  “Hey, out there. There are currently six of us stationed here and the capsule only holds five.”

  “Unimportant. We will be conducting the capsule to Earth. There will be no need for the capsule to reenter on its own. You now have twelve minutes to comply.”

  “You son of a bitch, you can’t just order us off the station. Who do you think you are?” Holliman said belligerently.

  “Screw this,” Simon said. “Shake them up.”

  Damien turned to the tractor emitter controls and gently shook the main crew compartment of the huge structure.

  “Hey! What the fuck! You’ll kill us all if you keep that up!” Holliman radioed, panic clearly in his voice.

  “You have just over ten minutes to get the capsule sealed up with you inside. This is really your last warning. Get in the capsule, seal it up, and detach from the station,” Damien warned, then broke the connection.

  “Be advised that the ISS is attempting to contact Earth,” G2 radioed.

  “Are you jamming the signal?” asked Simon.

  “No voice or data transmissions are reaching Earth, Simon.”

  “Thank you, G2. Keep us appraised of any change.”

  In less than ten minutes the jumper crew saw the Soyuz capsule detach from the station and it slowly began to drift away from the massive structure.

  Damien grabbed the capsule and pulled it next to the jumper, extending the shields around both spacecraft.

  Simon then pointed the joined ships toward Earth and the Johnson Space Cen
ter, the agreed drop off point for all returning space personnel.

  Forty-five minutes later they could see the shimmer of sunlight off the waters of the Gulf of Mexico as they approached Texas.

  “Hold up, it looks like there’s military fighters patrolling nearby. Stand by,” said Damien as he counted six fighters patrolling the airspace over the Johnson Space Center. “Son of a bitch! We have to drop the shields to let the capsule go. You think these assholes are going to fire on us?”

  “Damned if I know. Get a NASA suit on the horn and let them know we’re just dropping off,” Simon suggested.

  Damien donned a headset and directed G2 to connect the jumper with the main switchboard. Once he had someone on the phone he said, “Hey, put me through to someone who can tell those fighters to back off, otherwise we’ll just drop off these ISS guys from five thousand feet up.”

  “On moment please, while I connect your call,” the freaked out operator replied.

  Seconds later the call was picked up.

  “This is Major Reynolds, who am I speaking with?”

  “None of your damned business. Get those fighters out of the area or we’ll just drop the Soyuz with these six scientists into the Gulf,” Damien ordered.

  “Hang on,” Reynolds said as he spoke to someone else in the room. “Get ATC on the horn and tell the fighter cover to back off twenty-five miles. Clear the airspace over this facility.”

  Damien and Simon watched to see what would happen. In less than a minute they saw the fighters form up together and fly off heading west.

  “This is Major Reynolds. The fighters are leaving the area. You can enter the airspace without interference. I would request that if possible you land the capsule at the medical building’s heliport, we’ll have two jeeps and an ambulance parked nearby with their emergency lights flashing.”