by James Duggan
“What do we know about him?”
“Well other than the fact that he seems to have agreed a truce with his competitors, presumably to save their own skins, he’s a nasty piece of work. Bodies are being found all over Colombia which allegedly can be traced back to his operations. But corruption is so rife there have never been any convictions. One other thing…he’s ruthless; un-negotiable.”
“Fuck it.” said McConnell, despairingly.
He looked at the anguish on Bucks face and wanted to reassure him, but the fact was he could see the prospects of freeing Molly were slim to none. They couldn’t blast their way in without endangering her and reasoning with the drug lords was clearly going to be a non-starter.
“We’ve got to do something.” said Buck, pleading with his arms stretched out.
“Yeah I agree, but what? I’m open to suggestions.”
McConnell looked around at those within earshot.
“Whatever we do we’re fucked. If we try to blast our way in…Molly dies. If we don’t launch them…Molly dies. If we launch them…they won’t let her live anyway.”
He paused for a moment considering their dilemma.
“Anyone?” he said, hopefully.
General Armstrong was the only one to respond.
“When they come back let me speak to them. We can’t let a bunch of low life like that onto the Cube with weapons. They’ll jeopardise the whole enterprise.”
He spoke with the calmness of a man with a plan.
“What have you got in mind?” said Buck, hopefully.
“I’d rather not say, but if you’ll give me enough rope I’ll get Molly out of there in one piece…trust me. Just play along with whatever I do.”
Buck and McConnell looked at each other helplessly.
“It’s not as if we have any other options.” said the latter, with a shrug of the shoulders.
***
The hour seemed more like a day as they waited for Alivar to make contact once more. Buck’s cell phone finally warbled its call tune.
“I’ll answer that.” said Armstrong, as he snatched the phone out of Bucks hand; much to his surprise.
“Hello.”
“That’s not Buchanan. I’ll only speak to Buchanan.” snapped Alivar.
“Buchanan’s been shot trying to grab a gun from one of my men to fight his way into the pod…stupid bastard. If you want to get off the ground you’ll have to deal with me.”
Armstrong turned to Buck and shrugged. He put his hand over the mouthpiece.
“It’s the only thing I could think of on the spur of the moment.” he said.
He was counting on the fact that those inside the pod could not see out of the windowless cube. There was silence on the phone.
“Alivar, are you still there?”
“Ah, you know my name.”
“Yeah, McConnell’s men are good at their job.”
“Then you’ll know not to mess with my head.”
“Yeah, we know that too. So you’re going to have to trust me when I tell you we know you’ve got us by the balls and we’ll do whatever you want.”
“Very sensible Mister…what’s your name?”
“Just call me Clyde. I’m the man you need in there to verify the launch protocol.”
“There’s no way you’re getting in here.”
“That’s okay. Without me you don’t fly. The girl’s nothing to me and she’s going to die like the rest of us soon anyway. It’s up to you.”
There was silence again on the phone except for excited chatter in the background. Buck took the opportunity to whisper in Armstrong’s ear.
“What the fuck are you up to Clyde?”
Armstrong put his finger to his lips.
“Why does it have to be you Clyde?” said Alivar, eventually.
“To ensure security every launch can only operate after a biometric eye scanner verification system has been carried out on an on-board flight controller. None of you will be recognised by the computer…neither will the girl. It knows me, but I have to be inside in front of a monitor for it to function. Trade the girl for me and you get what you want.”
“Why are you so ready to give yourself up?”
“Because the bastards haven’t selected me to escape; I’m not of the right stock. This is my way of getting a ride.”
The connection went quiet while Alivar thought about what to do.
“Okay.” he said, eventually.
“But no funny business. And if we see any weapons the girl won’t feel what hits her in the head.”
“Very sensible. Let her out and I’ll come in.”
“You must have a very low opinion of my intelligence. If I let her out we’ll never see you in here.”
“Okay…Okay, I’ll come in.” said Armstrong, desperate not to lose the initiative.
“It was worth a try.” he muttered under his breath, as he discarded his hip holster.
“Clyde, you can’t do this. There must be another way. You don’t need…” whispered Buck in his ear.
“I do. Unless you can think of another option in the next ten seconds we’ll do it my way.” interrupted Armstrong.
Buck looked at him helplessly and nodded his acceptance of the General’s plan. If it got Molly out safely they could worry about Armstrong later.
“Don’t worry about me.” said Clyde to Buck, as he patted him on the shoulder reassuringly.
“And when I’m inside and Molly’s safe listen carefully to everything I say and don’t hesitate to act upon it. You hear what I’m saying?”
“I hear you…I hear you. But I wish I knew what you were up to.”
“There isn’t time to explain. Just listen carefully when I’m on board.”
Armstrong walked tentatively towards the pod and rapped on the hatch. After a brief wait it opened and he entered cautiously with a little wave to those he left behind.
He was faced with half a dozen desperate looking men each carrying an automatic weapon.
“Which one of you is Alivar?”
One of the six stepped forward.
“I’m Alivar.” he said, with an arrogant toss of the head.
“Where’s the girl?”
“Not so fast Mister Clyde. Search him.”
One of the Colombians swung his weapon over his shoulder and stepped forward to pat the general down.
“He’s clean boss.”
“Now where’s the girl?” said Armstrong, sternly.
Alivar nodded to another in the group and Molly was pulled roughly into sight to face her rescuer. Their eyes locked and there was a moment of recognition by Molly. She was about to speak when the general made the first move.
“Let her out of here Alivar. I’ve kept my end of the deal now you keep yours. If she isn’t let go, this thing doesn’t fly.”
Alivar looked at the man he knew only as Clyde with great suspicion. He stood pointing his gun at the general trying to decide whether or not to obey. His instinct for self preservation got the better of him.
“Let her out.” he barked, to the one who did the search.
To Buck’s great relief the hatch was thrown open and Molly was roughly manhandled out. She stood for a moment in bewilderment.
“Run for your life girl.” shouted Armstrong.
“This thing is going to lift off and you don’t want to be near it when it does. Go on run…run.” he barked, sternly.
The hatch closed behind Molly. It prompted her to move before there was a change of heart by her captors. She hurried down the steps and half ran, half stumbled, towards the waiting group of rescuers.
Buck wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug before ushering her into a waiting car and returning to the bunker.
General Armstrong stared Alivar in the eye.
“You’ve got what you want. Now let’s get to it. I want out of here just as much as you do.”
He was grabbed by the scruff of the neck by the one who appeared to be the second in command and du
mped unceremoniously in front of a monitor in one of the capsules.
“Get on with it.” snapped Alivar, impatiently.
The General activated the monitor and contacted the control room in the bunker.
“Okay you guys. Launch just as soon as the computer confirms the biometrics.”
Buck, Gambiadini and McConnell all exchanged glances.
“What the fuck’s he talking about?” said Gambiadini, to the launch controller.
“I’ve no idea.” replied the confused officer of the day.
“Ringo?” queried Buck, mystified.
A shrug of the shoulders gave him his answer. Even Ringo didn’t know.
“We’d better play along.” said Buck.
“Clyde must know what he’s doing even if we don’t. Get that thing moving.” he said to the controller.
The bewildered man pressed the button and after the usual short wait the electric blue haze surrounded the pod and it began to lift off.
“Thank you gentlemen.” said Armstrong, over the speaker.
“Now when we get beyond earth’s atmosphere, activate the antimeter sequence.” instructed Armstrong, calmly.
“The what?” said the now very agitated controller.
“Fucking hell, are you guys so stressed out down there that you can’t remember the fucking procedure for locking us into orbit? Get a grip. When I start the countdown hit the button.”
Alivar was getting suspicious.
“Hey, what’s this fucking antimeter thing? If you’re trying something I’ll blow your fucking head off.”
“Take it easy Alivar. That won’t do you much good. The antimeter has to be activated unless you want to shoot past the ISS and risk a crash landing on the moon…or an endless flight into the unknown without food and water. It locks us into the correct orbit. For Christ’s sake doesn’t the name tell you anything?” he bawled at the agitated drugs baron.
“Okay, but I’m warning you…”
The change of Clyde’s disposition, from calm to ruffled, alerted ground control.
“He’s trying to tell us something.” said Buck, urgently.
“He told me to listen carefully and act on it…but I don’t know what he wants us to do.”
Armstrong started the countdown.
“On my mark. Ten…nine…eight…”
Buck was getting frantic. He felt helpless cursing his own ignorance he pleaded with those in the room. There was just silence.
“Six…five…four…”
“Ringo, do something.”
“Three…two…one…activate.”
There was still silence. No one knew what was expected of them; except for one man.
Ringo sprang forward and before anyone could stop him smashed his fist on a large red domed button on the front of the control panel. There was horror on the faces of all in the bunker. He had hit the abort button.
There was a rush to the window just in time to see a blinding flash sixty miles above them in the cloudless night sky. The pod and all within it was no more; incinerated by the blast.
“Jeez, you fucking madman.” bawled McConnell in Ringo’s ear.
“Why the fuck did you do that?”
“Armstrong told me to mate.” replied Ringo, in his usual matter of fact manner.
“What do you mean ‘he told you to’? We never heard him say anything like that.” said Buck, angrily.
“Well he certainly did pal. It’s an anagram.”
“What is?”
“Antimeter, it’s an anagram.”
Buck looked at Ringo disbelievingly. He stood with his mouth half open as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. Suddenly the penny dropped.
“Terminate…he was trying to tell us to abort the launch. He knew the consequences and yet he still…”
Buck trailed off not knowing quite what to say. He looked at Molly and saw she was safe. He peered into the night sky and saw the threat to the Cube from feral drug barons no longer existed.
“That was one very brave man.” he said quietly, as he comforted Molly.
***
“Hey you guys down there. Are you throwing fire balls at us now?”
“Nothing to worry about Slim. We had a bit of a problem, but General Armstrong sorted it out for us. We’ll send you a replacement for the one we just trashed ASAP.” said Buck, as casually as he could.
“In the meantime have a rest break.”
***
THE EXODUS.
THE subsequent months passed without further serious incident as the world grappled with the ongoing construction of the Cubes. However, security around the launch site at Paine Field was doubled up in anticipation of it being invaded by those desperate in pursuit of their own salvation.
It was a wise precaution. A tent city grew up around the perimeter populated by so-called space migrants looking for any opportunity to sneak aboard a launch.
It was reminiscent of the migrant crisis twenty years previously where people fleeing oppression and civil wars in their own countries in the Middle East and Africa were seeking refuge on the mainland of Europe; as were those from South America to the United States.
As news of the daily launches spread the population of ‘Cube City’ as it was dubbed grew to a staggering one million. The situation was quickly becoming unmanageable and General Armstrong’s successor General Flint was obliged to reinforce the security yet again.
He called in the National Guard and imposed marshal law backed up by tanks, armoured vehicles and as many military personnel as he could muster from those who hadn’t deserted.
***
A year passed and five Cubes had been completed housing a total of four thousand lucky ticket holders. The Russian, Chinese and European efforts were matching the Americans Cube for Cube, but the three private enterprise ventures led by Al Brewster and his SpaceCruiser Company were struggling to keep up.
In spite of this there were now an estimated twenty-eight thousand people settling down to a very different and unnatural lifestyle in space. They were waiting impatiently for the day when the whole project was completed and they could set off into the unknown out of the way of Ceres.
Their days were passed conscientiously tending to the various life support systems which had been built into the service pods; the most sought after of which was the hydroponic food production units.
The lush greenery and fragrances of the produce, which included leaf, root and fruit harvests etcetera, was soothing to the mind and provided fond memories of a home they would never see again.
Their evenings and nights were made tolerable in the relative comfort of their own private capsule space. It was where they could listen to or watch whatever took their fancy from the vast on-board library of entertainment. Alternatively they could just lie back and view their favourite scenes of Earth through their own private ‘window’ on the world; or they could simply sleep after the exertions of the day.
Everyone fell into their own routine having made their choice and taken their pick. A spirit of co-operation was essential and people had been selected as much for their psychological makeup as their scientific, academic and physical attributes.
In the circumstances it was all working rather well even though there were few family units and no children on board; as Ringo had once quipped, “If they want kids, they can make their own”.
The discussion as to whether to include children in the initial population of the Cube was a thorny one. The final decision was based upon the premise that they would have difficulty adapting to the new and strange way of life; whereas, any children born on board would think of it as a natural environment as they matured.
The dilemma had been the subject of fierce debate by opposing psychologists. Eventually it was decided none should go. Whether that was right or not could be debated for ever without any satisfactory conclusion.
***
Another year of exhaustive activity passed with each of the seven factions achieving thei
r target of ten Cubes. The private enterprise elements led by Al Brewster had been given a boost by spare capacity from within the various National efforts.
He had engineered a magnificent endeavour on their part, but when push came to shove it was clear they would not meet their target. There was no question of personal reputations being damaged by asking for assistance. The order of the day was to get as many people as possible away from the danger threatened by Ceres.
On receipt of the request there was no hesitation by Buck in approving the supply of whatever they wanted; providing it could be spared. His motives were the same as theirs; saving lives.
With the departure date rapidly approaching there were now around fifty-six thousand people orbiting two hundred and fifty miles above the planet. Three years previously no one could ever have imagined such an incredible scenario; or even the need for it.
It was three months before impact and it was time to gather the vast armada into an orderly group and fire the starting gun.
Slim had been given the responsibility of taking command of the departure procedure which he was happy to do now he had Maggie, Cassie and Danni safely on board. The latter, in their mid teens, were the youngest of the intrepid travellers and had been allowed on in recognition of McCoy’s determined efforts to assemble the Cube.
Buck, Charlie, Annie and Molly were gathered in Goddard Space Flight Centre in Baltimore to monitor the exodus. It was a poignant moment after the trials and tribulations of the previous thirty-three months.
Buck and his crew, although having been nominated to be included on board, had declined the opportunity when offered. They felt they had a collective responsibility to monitor the great escape from the ground and follow its progress through space. Even young Molly could not be persuaded to leave her post. The first time had been under duress, but not a second time when the decision was hers alone.
The assembly of seventy Cubes spread out over an area of almost one square mile could be seen from the ground with the naked eye. Its multi-faceted chrome surfaces glistened in the sun during the day and twinkled by the reflected light of the moon like a galaxy of stars at night; a real diamonds in the sky spectacle.