Galactic Startup

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Galactic Startup Page 3

by Brian Whiting


  Chapter 2

  Direction

  General Green surveyed the room. Every seat was taken, and several people were standing.

  “Let’s get this started,” he said.

  “Today’s date is September 20th 2018. For the record, in attendance is Mark Hammond, NSA Director and associate…”

  “Jack Morris… sir.”

  “Very good. We have Patrick Hunt, NASA Director, and Stacy Fulbright, assisting. Laura Shultz, President’s Chief of Staff. Jeoffry Sty with the FAA. Commander Mason from the ISS is attending via conference link. Colonel Gibson with NORTHCOM. Karl Fulmax, CIA Director. Anyone else?”

  Several people announced themselves. A flight specialist, radar analyst, and others.

  “It should be obvious that everything you hear today is classified Need To Know. Any disclosure from this point will require the approval of my office.” General Green looked down at his tablet with the meeting’s agenda.

  “Some of you still don’t know the details, so let me get you up to speed. Yesterday at 2107 hours EST, Orlando Air Traffic Control picked up an unidentified object that will henceforth be known as Surprise. Its position was approximately ninety-five miles southwest from the tower, traveling nearly vertical. Mr. Sty will give you the details.”

  Jeoffry Sty didn’t waste any time, and passed out a sheet of paper. It showed two maps of Florida. One was a three-dimensional representation of the state and its airspace, the other was a flat image labeled “Horizon View”, with an eight-digit grid coordinate marking the point of origin. Both featured a red line and a purple line.

  “The red line represents the ascent trajectory,” he began. “As you can see, at about forty thousand feet, the object stopped for approximately ninety seconds, before resuming at a faster speed.”

  General Green interrupted. “Do we have an estimate on that speed?”

  “The top speed we recorded was four hundred and fifty miles per hour,” Jeoffry replied. “We lost it at an altitude of seventy-one thousand feet. The entire ascent took nine minutes.”

  General Green looked at his notes. “Space Command picked up orbital telemetry at about the same time. Surprise’s ascent was completely vertical. After five minutes in low orbit, it gained tremendous speed and assumed a trajectory directly towards the International Space Station. At 2120 hours, Surprise made verbal contact with the station using a CB radio. Commander Mason, can you take it from there?” the General asked, attempting to project his voice to the conference audio device in the middle of the desk.

  Commander Mason had been told to keep the details to a minimum.

  “Lt. Commander Cindy made visual contact at approximately 2118 hours. She took several photographs of Surprise.” Someone began distributing printed images to those around the table. “At this time, ISS public live-feeds were suspended. We received CB radio transmission at 2120 hours, and responded. The object’s crew requested to board the ISS, and agreed to let us inspect their vessel. By this time, I was in contact with Director Hunt at Space Command, and accepted the invitation. The Surprise applied a temporary rubber docking collar that Cindy, Xi and I used to board their craft. It is exactly what it looks like, a cargo container. The only objects observed inside were chairs, desks, and simple computers. Also, a stack of unexceptional vehicle batteries and minimal lighting.”

  “Authorization was given to grant access to the ISS by Director Hunt, and all four occupants of the container came aboard. They identified themselves as Alex, Jorge, Timmy and Zeek, but did not provide other names. All appeared to be in their early twenties with American accents. They identified their ship as the United States Vessel Surprise.”

  “Thank you. Commander,” General Green took charge once more. “The X-38B was tasked to intercept on my authorization. Before its arrival, the four occupants abruptly changed tact and made a quick retreat to the Surprise. They claimed their parents were probably getting worried about them.” Some of the listeners tried to suppress laughter. Commander Mason spoke up again.

  “The craft disembarked at 0319 hours, leaving the rubber docking collar behind. We have plans to remove the collar, but it will require an unscheduled spacewalk.”

  “The X-38B never got close enough to plant devices or obtain any useful information,” said General Green. “Orbital telemetry had the craft returning towards the Eastern Seaboard.”

  “Tampa Air Traffic Control saw two anomalous, momentary blips around that time. I believe it was the ship returning at a low altitude to avoid radar,” said Jeffory.

  “What do we know about the… crew,” asked Laura Shultz, from the White House.

  “They mentioned a professor at a local university. Apparently, they decided to drop out to continue their project. They also confirmed that they live in Florida,” said Mason.

  “They live streamed their trip online to a blank social media profile,” added the FBI Director. “It cut out of course, shortly after they got underway.” Everyone looked at him. “None of the crew has spoken or written anything publicly or used that particular profile previously. My people are examining the server archives to determine the feed’s point of origin, and we are reaching out to university officials for contact information. We should have more information soon.”

  “We would like to know how all this was accomplished,” said Shultz. She eyed the assembled team and relaxed in her chair.

  General Green spoke up.

  “I don’t like the tone this conversation is taking. We do not have that information. But let me be clear. An unauthorized space flight was launched. It risked billions of dollars of property and the ISS itself. A catastrophic collision could have occurred with all the satellites and property in orbit. That constitutes a direct threat to the United States. Furthermore, unknown persons infiltrated the space station, a research facility, using an advanced propulsion device of unknown design. There is no telling how dangerous it is. These people have the ability to launch an unregistered orbital vehicle, with unknown capabilities, that could potentially reach any target on Earth. This is a major threat to national security. Securing the craft, its crew and their technology must be a top priority.”

  The mood of the room changed. Shultz spoke again.

  “I believe we may be getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s look at this for what it is and not what it could be. A group of talented young men found a way to get into orbit without chemical propulsion. This technology could change the very course of humanity. They were invited onboard the ISS and departed diplomatically. At no point did they behave in any violent or threatening manner. However, the President sympathizes with your position.”

  The meeting continued for several hours.

  ***

  Alex woke with a start. He looked at his radio clock and uttered a few expletives. He had been asleep so long it was evening again. His phone was brimming with missed calls. He tried Zeek first, but before he could dial, the doorbell rang.

  Alex threw on a jacket and ran downstairs. His father beat him to the door. Jorge, Timmy and Zeek scurried inside, looking like they had woken not long before Alex had.

  “They are at my parents’ house,” Timmy blurted.

  “His parents told them to try my parents,” Jorge followed.

  “Who? Who’s looking for us?” said Alex.

  “Government guys, of course! We knew this would happen… right! But I didn’t think it would actually… happen!”

  That fact that Zeek entered the room and didn’t start playing games spoke volumes.

  Alex’s father Drake cleared his throat. He seemed serious.

  “What did you guys expect? You four kicked over an international hornet’s nest. They will probably confiscate your craft for its technology and hold you for violation of federal laws.”

  “What?” Jorge shouted. “I didn’t sign up for this kind of trouble.“

  “No way,” said Alex. “We worked hard for this. We are not about to turn over our technology to anyone.”

 
Timmy slowly paced the room, biting his nails. His hazel eyes lost in thought. The room was sparsely decorated, and it needed a good cleaning, but nothing was obviously filthy. Jorge stood motionless, tears welling up in his eyes. Drake tried to calm him down.

  “OK. Here is what you’re going to do. Strip whatever you don’t want them to find in the container, take the truck and get out of here.”

  “No. If they are jumping from house to house, we don’t have time for that,” said Alex, suddenly calm. “Dad, I need you to trust me. Deposit whatever you can into my account. We are going to drop off the radar.”

  “We’re going to what?” said Timmy. He stopped pacing.

  “This is crazy!” cried Jorge, throwing his hands wide. But Alex, Drake, Zeek, and Timmy had formed a rough circle in the center of the room, calmer now, though Timmy continued biting his nails.

  “Guys, I’m not willing to lose everything we worked for. Last night was an obvious success. Think what we could do with more time and proper planning. We need a complete redesign of our craft and purpose. Most of all, we need to keep this tech to ourselves. For now.”

  Drake coughed again. “How much do you need or… want?”

  Alex’s father never gave him money for anything. Despite being a multi-millionaire from an early online venture, he was very frugal. His eyes drilled into Alex.

  “Look, Dad, right now you know I can’t pay you back.”

  “Let me stop you there, son. I know a winning investment when I see one. You’re going to make more money with this, more than I ever will. I’ll simply ask for a fifteen percent return plus one percent of annual profits.”

  Alex agreed almost absent-mindedly. Then he gulped. He had always secretly known how much his father had. He considered the project he had in his mind and compared it to how much he thought his father might invest.

  “One hundred million.”

  Drake didn’t laugh outright. He merely cocked his head and smiled at the audacity. It was a bit more than half his net worth. Alex’s friends looked as though someone had just told them about a unknown sibling they all shared.

  Drake turned away and paced the living room for a few moments, carefully avoiding Jorge. He stopped and looked at a family photo, taken when his wife was still alive. She always gave Alex the benefit of the doubt, something he didn’t care to do.

  “I can’t just transfer that amount directly. They’re probably going to freeze your account anyway. I’ll have my lawyer set up a limited liability company for you guys. He’ll be responsible for the account. It will take about a week, but you’ll have the money.”

  Alex’s expression melted with gratitude. His father, for once in his life, believed in him. He forced himself to swallow and concentrate.

  “Thank you. We will be back here, at the hangar, in exactly ten days at midnight,” Alex said.

  “We are running out of time,” said Timmy, reading messages on his phone. “We need to leave.”

  “Go!” said Drake. He was never big on displays of affection. Even the simple act of hugging felt awkward to him. Now that he wanted to, there just wasn’t enough time as everyone rushed out of the house.

  They zoomed in Alex’s truck to the hangar, which was a fair distance down a driveway.

  “My parents said there’s a helicopter, FBI agents and even the police looking for us now. They gave them your address, Alex. They’re coming!”

  “Don’t worry. They won’t get us.” Alex opened the door to the hangar, then turned and opened the container door as well. They jumped inside. It sat two feet off the ground because of the I-beam they used as a landing skid and support beam.

  The longest part of the launch process was booting the computers. After a few moments, the craft was hovering, and Jorge took them out. Zeek was looking out of the small window.

  “I can see the helicopter. It’s coming fast.”

  “Heh. They don’t know the meaning of the word. Strap in.” Jorge applied power to the drive and rotated the anti-grav disks.

  They took off in the opposite direction to the incoming enforcers. The sudden acceleration left bruises in their legs from the harness attached to their chairs. If not for the restraints, they would have been thrown against the back wall. Thankfully, most things were bolted down. They did have to readjust the computer screens as they all shifted position.

  “Keep our altitude below a hundred feet,” said Alex.

  “Where are we going?” asked Zeek. There was a significant pause.

  “Take us to the Grand Canyon.”

  It was an arbitrary location, but Alex remembered the time he ran away from his father on vacation there, and how easy it was to hide.

  “Isn’t that in New Mexico?” yelled Timmy.

  “I think it’s Arizona.”

  Timmy found the location online, and plotted a course. Jorge was already increasing speed. At about three hundred miles per hour, the cargo container began to shake tremendously.

  “Why the hell are we going there?” Alex heard someone ask. The noise of the air buffeting the sides of the container was deafening.

  “Planes fly high, to avoid the turbulence, we should do the same,” Timmy shouted over the banging.

  “No,” said Alex. “We have to stay off radar. You can drop our speed if you need to.” Jorge nodded, and the shaking began to subside. “What’s our ETA?”

  “About five hours,” said Timmy.

  They were quiet. Reality was starting to sink in.

  “What are we going to do?” Jorge’s nose and eyes were wet. Alex looked around.

  “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t what we wanted. But if we hadn’t left, they would have taken us. The result would have been the same. They’d never let us keep technology this powerful, think about it. Do you know how easy it would be to turn this thing into a massive kinetic weapon? We could single handedly destroy any building with this technology.”

  “So we are a threat now?” Timmy rested his back into the seat, banging his head against the headrest.

  “Businesses have laws, aircraft have laws, boats have laws, cars have laws, and spacecraft have laws. We violated just about all of them, I’d imagine,” Alex said, sadly. He was trying to sound sure of himself, but he had no idea if there were laws for spacecraft.

  Zeek was grinning.

  “I want to be the first person to post my space ticket online.”

  Timmy and Alex chuckled.

  “We’d have to stop and let them give it to us first,” Timmy said. Alex was looking pensive again.

  “Right now, we are weak. We were showboating idiots. We have no one else in our corner, and the government can do whatever they want to us. They can make us, and this craft disappear. What we need to do is get real. We need to make people care about us and what we are doing. We need to make a name for ourselves.”

  “Let’s land in the middle of Times Square. Take pictures with hotties and invite a couple reporters to come along for a ride,” said Zeek, already turning away from the conversation and pulling out his trusty handheld.

  “Eventually, perhaps, but this cargo container needs to go. We need to do better. A real ship with air exchangers, a water system, temperature control. The works. And it needs to look amazing.” His optimism was infectious. Even Jorge cracked a smile. “We’re going to use my father’s money to build a better ship.”

  There was quiet again, but the mood had changed.

  “How long have you been thinking about this?” Zeek looked up from his game.

  “Since the space station. The stuff they showed us made our ship look embarrassing. We could have frozen to death up there. But more importantly people went into space to explore. What is there to explore in orbit? Let go and truly explore space!

  Their chairs swiveled, and they were facing each other. Jorge was unimpressed.

  “We build a spacecraft from spare parts. We launch it into space, we dock with the International Space Station, and you feel embarrassed. Because it doesn’t look
cool enough?”

  “C’mon, that’s not what I-” Jorge cut Alex off.

  “You know where I live, right? At least this cargo container doesn’t leak. Sometimes I open my fridge and it’s completely empty. I could even fit my bed in here. This place would be a step up for me.

  Alex didn’t make eye contact with anyone. His cheeks felt flushed.

  “I am sorry, Jorge. I didn’t think about what I was saying from your point of view.”

  Zeek smiled.

  “I still think we should build a real spaceship and land it in Times Square. Maybe abduct some of the locals, and cruise through space with style.”

  They tried to resist, but soon everyone was grinning. Zeek merely turned his chair around, loaded up a game on his computer, and said, “I’m not kidding.”

  “Look, we don’t have to worry about money any more. We can build a top-of-the line craft. I can’t do this without you guys. You know that.”

  “I don’t know,” said Jorge. “What about our families? Where can we possibly build something like this?”

  Alex knew his friends well. It took him a few moments to figure out what was really bothering them.

  “Guys, I didn’t think this needed to be spelled out, but of course I’m going to be paying you all from now on. One hundred thousand a year each as a base salary, we can figure out bonuses later.

  “You keep thinking we can make money without selling the technology,” said Timmy.

  “Are you kidding? We can cruise to Mars and shovel a few bags of dirt, sell it for thousands of dollars per gram. We can harvest an asteroid for precious metals. We can undercut any airline company.” Alex held out his arms like it was all for the taking. “Plus, we’d be making history with everything we did.”

  “I’m in.” Zeek turned back to his game.

  Jorge stroked his chin. His face had dried. Timmy was looking from him to Alex and back.

  “I’ll admit, it has potential,” said Jorge. “A hundred grand salary, did you say?”

 

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