by E. N. Abel
''I hereby promote you to Captain of Deep-Space-One.'' Michael took a ten pence sized golden star from his pocket - one like he also wore - and stuck it to the Russian's collar. Then he took the man's hand and shook it. ''Congratulations, Captain!''
''Thank you, Captain.'' Dimitri beamed like a Christmas tree.
''Take command of your crew, sir. Get ready for departure.''
''Yes, sir!'' Tjurin turned, then bellowed: ''Crew of Deep-Space-One: board ship!''
At once the multitude split and half of them rushed to the new sphere.
When they ran past them, Mike felt Marlene link in with him again, then slightly twitched on his arm. He looked at her, but she kept her eyes firmly on the passing crew.
A moment later the departing group caused a little traffic jam under the hole of the grav lift. Tjurin smiled amused - much to do here. He nodded apologetically to Mike, then hurried after his crew, yelling: ''Form a line, kids, form a line!''
The Stardust team watched the fuss under the other ship with amusement. Then with a nod from their Captain, walked over to their craft. After all, they were the pros ...
Mike and Marlene kept watching for a moment, then followed their crew. Marlene seemed oddly muted, and Mike had the momentary impression that he may have missed something important - but his girl remained silent. He filed the suspicion away for later, but the stirring events of the day made him forget to follow up.
The whole scene had been recorded by a dozen web cams and transmitted to the Group's web server at CERN, where currently three hundred and fifty million people were viewing the live feed.
A world watched in awe as the two golden spheres lifted silently into the Florida sky and then disappeared with a mighty supersonic boom.
Chapter 127
Cape Canaveral
Sunday, 08.01.2017
Warrington, with Nora on his arm, saw her follow the departing ships with a smile on her lips.
''Well, my dear, your friends are on their way,'' she finally observed. ''Time to get our ship ready for space travel, too.''
''So the Lieutenant kept his promise?''
Nora beamed at her friend. ''Oh yes. Our own ship is now functional. Their chief engineer, Rosskov, joined us yesterday and wouldn't leave until the propulsion system was working and trimmed out perfectly. The kids have been playing with it all day.''
''And?''
''They are absolutely thrilled. The reactor runs as smooth as honey, the gravitation generators are working perfectly and the computer control is flawless. The manual control is tuned so finely that even the two of us could fly it. You have any idea who wrote the system software?''
''Must have been Mike, at least he came up with the design. He's their chief IT nerd. His computer gang probably carried out the actual construction. S'far as I've heard the group is very thoroughly organised and has specialists for every task.''
''Yes, that's what I've heard, too. And, would you believe, Rosskov even installed their marvellous meteor deflection shielding for us - as a black box, so to say. We have no idea how it works - it's just a box the size of a household fridge, but it seems to be functional and is integrated into the ship's control bus; we can operate it from the bridge. Our crew will be very safe in that little balloon.''
''Typical for Mike. Do it, and do it right. Now, my love, would you agree that I was helpful in getting you that toy spaceship?''
That made Nora laugh. ''Yes, absolutely - why?''
''How about a little reward?''
She had to laugh again: ''I thought you got that already this morning. And yesterday evening ... and the night ... if I remember correctly.''
Warrington smiled knowingly: ''That's private. I am talking on a professional level.''
''What do you mean?'' Nora turned serious, becoming very careful.
''I mean that I, considering the benefits NASA reaped through my influence, am entitled to a little reward. A price, so to say.'' The Colonel could see that his approach was turning Nora off completely.
She sounded sober when she said: ''NASA surely owes you. Whatever it is you want, I'll do my best to get it for you.''
''Well,'' Warrington temporized, knowing she thought he was after money, ''What I really would like to have is the same as Gunny Westmoore wanted - a trip around our world, in that ball of yours - with my new sweetheart at my side. Observe the planet from, say, a few thousand miles in altitude. Do a few turns, then come back.'' Watching her closely, he saw her catch the meaning. At once the beaming smile was back on her pretty face again and she threw her arms around his neck, planted a fat kiss on his cheek.
''Why don't we go over to the kids,'' she suggested slyly. ''Maybe we can sweet-talk them into going for a spin ... an extended field test of the meteor shield, so to say. Authorized by the mission manager.'' Leaning to his ear she added whispering: ''I've never done it in Zero-G ... you?''
Warrington, holding his new love in his arms, laughed whole-heartily.
Chapter 128
Cape Canaveral
Sunday, 08.01.2017
They had been marched in mindboggling detail through the only recently published work of the Twisted Spaces bunch for a full two hours. The lecturer was nobody less than the chief engineer of NASA's Mars project, Dr Matthew Carter. Warrington took a deep breath. He had disliked the man on first sight, but now he clearly despised the guy. His patience was definitely running out. OK, the meeting was attended by a number of crowned heads - not every day the President of the United States visited NASA - and the almighties did need a good overview, sure, but not in this tedious depth and certainly not embellished with caustic remarks by the lecturer. Meanwhile even the President was showing signs of impatience and the Deputy Director of Intelligence, Walthers, stifled a yawn.
After a clearly audible harrumph the President finally spoke up. ''Thank you, Mr Carter, we now have an idea about the extent of the new technology. Now to the economic impact, please.''
This was a request for NASA's director, Professor Ronstedt. He stood up and said: ''Frankly, we have no idea, Mr President. Alone the technology to move things without wheels, without streets and without weight restrictions ... and then the ability to build batteries with tiniest quantities of antimatter - long lasting energy cells that will revolutionise nearly everything.''
''Not to forget that artificial gravity in space ships and stations will make space travel and work a lot easier,'' Nora Coleman said.
''And military use,'' Warrington added. ''As they have so forcefully demonstrated in Bejing.''
''Correct,'' Ronstedt agreed, ''literally millions of new application cases in all fields.''
A moment of silence arose.
''This all is awesome,'' General Walthers spoke up. ''But the whole affair leaves us with plenty of unknowns and I would like to draw your attention to one of the open questions.'' He faced Nora. ''Dr Coleman, how long would it take NASA to develop such a space ship as the group has built, provided that you have mastered the underlying theoretical framework?''
Everybody stared at him in astonishment.
''What are you implying?'' the President asked. Instead of an answer Walthers just nodded to Coleman.
''Many years,'' she said. ''Surely more than a decade. This is a brand new nuclear technology, and a very advanced one.'' She took a deep breath. ''We would need more than a decade.''
''Even with NASA's possibilities and unlimited funding?''
''Even then. See, there are so many new aspects. For example: nobody here has a clue how they manipulate gravity.''
The US President leaned forward: ''Again, what are you implying?''
''The estimation of CIA's science department agrees with Dr Coleman,'' Walthers said. ''We have taken a very close look at the crew manifest - CERN published it a while ago - and found that three people on that list have Asperger syndrome. All three are physicists with excellent school records. Members of that Rosskov guy's team, engine room. And he seems to be one, too. Low grade.''
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''OK, it's known that people with Aspergers can demonstrate outstanding performances, even show traits of ingenuity,'' Nora said, ''but I doubt that this is enough. Not for such an advancement.''
''Again my science department agrees with you, Dr Coleman,'' Walthers replied. ''They say that three such guys - of the right type of Aspergers - could have driven the development ahead in leaps and bounds, but not to such an extent. So my question is: how could these people do it in only five years?''
Quietness spread. For several minutes nobody spoke, then the President said: ''Are you saying that this technology was dropped onto them by ... aliens?''
''No, I am not saying that. In fact I merely asked: how could they do it?'' He looked back at Dr Coleman. ''What would you need, to do it in the same time?''
Nora frowned, then said: ''Well, if all the relevant machines were already designed and we only needed to build the components and assemble and test them, then eventually. See, building a grav generator from a construction plan is easy; at least the now received data suggests that. But designing one from scratch, a new theory would take years.''
Walthers smiled shortly: ''The question remains.''
''Maybe,'' Nora replied, ''but who else could have designed the machines? You think aliens gave them ready-made construction plans?''
''Who knows? Fact is: they have a space ship and they are on the Moon. With brand new technology that overshadows everything we have built up to now. My people say: nobody on Earth could have achieved that - not in five years.'' Walthers looked around the room. ''So how else could they have done it?''
''The answer is,'' Warrington threw in, ''we have no fucking clue.'' He nodded to the DDI. ''Your job, I gather.''
''Exactly.'' Walthers nodded, too. He leaned back. Since that fucked up raid in Spangdahlem they literally had a mountain of traces on those people and all he now needed was one single, solid lead. Fortunately, as Director of Intelligence, he had an formidable army of specialists and operatives at hand. Tomorrow he would unleash the dogs of war - well, more like those of CIA. He smiled inwardly: these guys could run, but - in the long term - they could not hide.
*** End of Book 1 ***