Asteroid Discovery

by Bobby Akart

  Just days before the mission’s launch was scheduled, Heather had been grounded. She’d pleaded with the launch coordinator not to use a substitute for her role as the lead astronomer on the mission. She assured them the flu virus would run its course and likely be out of her system by liftoff. However, they were unconvinced and stood by their decision. They simply could not risk putting her in closed quarters with the fourteen-man crew, possibly passing the flu to everyone on board the rocket.

  She got up from the couch and wandered aimlessly across the living room of their home, which had been built in the nineteenth century by Frederick DeFuniak, the president of the Pensacola and Atlantic Railroad. The television had been muted by Gunner as the countdown for the launch had been placed on hold at T-minus two minutes. This was not out of the ordinary, as frequently technological aspects of the mission had to be checked and rechecked.

  Launching a rocket into space involves lots of complex circuitry and moving parts, all of which can malfunction. Tiny failures of mechanical parts, or human error, had led to disasters like the destruction of the Challenger in 1986 and the Columbia in 2003.

  On occasion, concerns over a single aspect of the launch can cause a delay, as was the case today, or even scrub the mission altogether, depending on the severity of the problem. Usually, delaying the launch allowed the threats to dissipate, as in the case of unexpected weather, or give NASA’s team the opportunity to diagnose and repair the issue.

  Gunner patted the sofa, encouraging Heather to return. “Come here, darling. They’ve promised you the first seat on the next ISS deployment. I know it isn’t the Moon, but you’ll take the first step towards getting there.”

  “I know, and that’s all I expected to do on my first flight anyway. But still …” Her voice trailed off as she pouted.

  A brilliant scientist and astrophysicist, Heather could’ve commanded a tremendous salary if she’d signed on with the private companies like SpaceX or the Jeff Bezos project, Blue Origin. She’d held out because she wanted to be a part of NASA and Project Artemis. While the private firms had designs on colonizing the Moon, the U.S. government needed to be the first to land there to stake its claim for the world’s leader in space exploration.

  Heather wanted to be a part of that first mission, and now she was grounded. What was even more frustrating was the fact that, as she had predicted, her flu symptoms had passed and she felt great, except for the disappointment in being forced to watch the launch from home.

  Gunner grabbed the remote and fumbled for the volume button. “Look, they’ve continued the countdown.”

  Heather joined his side and wiped away her tears of self-pity. “Okay. I’m really happy for these guys. They’re like family, you know. We’ve trained together, but it’s more than that. We were going to make history by being the first human beings to live on the Moon, albeit for just a few weeks. Babe, we were going to be looked upon as pioneers.”

  Gunner squeezed her hand and kissed her on the cheek. He reassured her that her time would come, not knowing at that moment it would be a few years later.

  And we have liftoff, Artemis One is making its historic trek to the Moon!

  The excitement in the announcer’s voice caused goose bumps on Heather’s arms as she tightly squeezed Gunner’s hand. She began to shake from excitement as the cameras caught the powerful rocket’s thrusters heaving it upward into the sky.

  Excitement turned to concern only two minutes into launch.

  “Oh no. Gunner, something’s wrong.”

  “What?”

  “Look at the contrails. The one contrail that’s supposed to follow Artemis as it reaches the stratosphere has split off.”

  “What does that—?”

  She interrupted his question. “The solid rocket boosters have separated too early. Gunner, oh God!”

  Heather began to wail as an explosion filled the screen, and then the cameras abruptly cut away. She buried her head in his shoulder and sobbed uncontrollably.

  The historic, inaugural flight of Artemis One to the Moon had ended as it disintegrated.

  Chapter 47

  Wednesday, April 11

  Gunner’s Residence

  Dog Island

  Everyone slept in after the tiring ride from the Aleutian Islands to Lackland Air Force Base near San Antonio, and the last leg was a rough helicopter ride in a torrential downpour that eventually set them down at the airport on Dog Island. Ordinarily, Gunner preferred to keep the military aircraft confined to the mainland, but the weather was so bad that he doubted any of the other residents noticed the Sikorsky drop in and immediately take off. Walking in the rain and wind for two miles to his home caused more complaining than the arduous return trip from Alaska, or the perilous escape from Far East Russia.

  That morning, the sun was bright and on full display, beaming inside Gunner’s home. Cam barely stirred on the sofa, and there was no sign of Bear, who’d most likely buried himself in the gym under a pile of beach towels.

  Gunner made his way to the kitchen, wearing his board shorts and a NASA tee shirt that matched one that Heather had worn all the time. He was desperately trying to hold onto her even though he knew that would never be possible.

  For the first year, he’d considered selling the house, as it had been designed and built on their dreams together. However, Pop had moved nearby and the place was now paid for. Besides, he wasn’t prepared to let go. Not yet.

  The Mr. Coffee did its job, filling the kitchen with the aroma of the dark-roasted brew. Normally, Gunner would pop a K-Cup pod into the Breville machine, but his guests would be looking for their morning mojo soon enough.

  He walked out onto his deck and admired the white sand beach and turquoise blue water. An elderly couple stopped briefly to take pictures of the shipwreck that had revealed itself after a hurricane last fall. In 1899, it was estimated that one hundred fifteen ships had washed ashore between Carrabelle and Apalachicola. The wooden ships had crashed into the surf of the barrier islands and, over time, had been buried by sand as future storms altered the shoreline.

  Hurricane Michael in 2018 had unearthed some of the wreckage, and Hurricane Harry last fall revealed several more. The tall mast ships had been part of a growing ship trade that connected North Florida with Cuba and the West Indies. Rum, spices, and sugar were frequently traded on the Panhandle in exchange for cotton and other textiles.

  Gunner sighed as he reflected on their mission. He understood why the spook at the CIA outpost had purposefully kept them in the dark as to the news that had spread around the globe Sunday night. In fact, none of the military personnel his team had come in contact with had spoken a word of it as they were transferred to Lackland to meet with Ghost and a team of intelligence agents. It wasn’t until after the debriefing that Ghost revealed the threat IM86 posed.

  Gunner had a hunch. He and Heather had discussed the prospect of mining an asteroid many years ago. She’d had the opportunity to work for Elon Musk and had even encouraged him to join her. She believed that his Earth sciences background coupled with her desire to conquer space made them a perfect team.

  After a lot of discussion, and subtle pressure on her part, Gunner had chosen to stay in the military, and Heather decided to pursue her dream through NASA. He often wondered what their life might be like if he’d followed her dream instead of sticking to his own.

  Off in the distance, he could hear the sound of a Cessna. Gunner instinctively checked his watch to see if it might be Pop ferrying people to and fro, before realizing he’d taken it off before bed. Ghost had assured them that they’d be removed from the call list, the term used for teams of operators who remained on standby to travel on a moment’s notice. Their mission in Russia had been grueling, and Ghost understood their need to decompress. To Gunner, decompressing meant not caring what day or time it was.

  The sound of the plane came closer and then Gunner recognized the orange-and-white markings on the side. He’d encouraged Pop to use a differ
ent paint scheme, as his plane might be confused for being part of the Coast Guard, but his father rejected his advice, opting to keep the colors to pay homage to his hometown football team—the Tennessee Volunteers.

  The plane slowed and Pop tipped his wings back and forth, acknowledging Gunner’s presence on the deck. After he flew by and banked right to circle toward the bayfront dock, a sleepy voice caught Gunner’s attention.

  “Was that Pop?” asked Cam. “I hope he brought breakfast.”

  “Have you checked the fridge?” asked Gunner.

  “Very funny,” she growled. “There’s nothing in there but beer, including three empty ones.”

  Gunner laughed. “Bear did that. He said that way it didn’t look like we drank that much last night.”

  Cam joined his side and leaned against the rail. She was wearing one of his tee shirts and most likely nothing underneath. He glanced at her body, noticing her shape, but didn’t give it a second thought. Of course Cam was a beautiful young woman, and a guy’s girl, but she’d also been his best friend since childhood.

  Cam glanced around. “Where’s Howard?”

  “He wandered upstairs to sleep with Bear. Those two probably snored in each other’s ears all night.”

  Cam didn’t respond and soaked in the beauty of the sunrise. Gunner finished his coffee and stared down the beach, watching several seagulls soar along the coast, periodically dipping down into the water to snag a fish. After a moment of silence, he looked in Cam’s direction.

  “Cam, what are you doing here?”

  “Um, whadya mean? All my gear is here, remember?”

  “You’re deflecting. That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

  Cam fidgeted and reached for his coffee mug. She took it from him, saw that it was empty, and poured the last drops onto the sand below. “Let me get some coffee.” She was stalling.

  “No, I’ll get it and then you’re gonna start talkin’. If you go inside, you’ll disappear.”

  She pushed her hair out of her eyes and lifted her face to the sun. “Fine, but make it snappy, or I’ll jump the rail and you’ll never see me again.”

  Gunner laughed. “You mean like when we played Batman and Robin as kids? Do you remember how that turned out?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Coffee, mister. Make it snappy. You’ve been warned.”

  Gunner left her side and recalled how the two of them had been inseparable. They’d dressed up in Batman and Robin costumes and were playing in the backyard. Gunner led the way as they chased an imaginary villain, climbing over a chain-link fence into an adjacent yard. Cam, never to be outdone, followed suit, only her cape snagged on the jagged edge of the fence, causing her to land awkwardly on her shoulder. As it turned out, she broke her collarbone.

  As promised, Gunner quickly returned and placed the mug on the rail next to his refill. Knowing that Pop was most likely driving up to the house from the dock, he urged Cam to explain.

  “Speak now, or forever hold your peace,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Yeah, I could’ve done that once before, remember. Only the whole event was my idea.”

  “I remember, runaway bridesmaid. You’re lucky you didn’t get fired off the bridesmaid team.”

  Cam drank her coffee and an evil grin came across her face. “He was cute.”

  “He was barely out of high school.”

  “I didn’t know that!” She made a feeble attempt to defend her honor.

  Gunner and Cam clinked coffee mugs and they took a sip, reveling in the memory of a fun day for all involved.

  “Spill it, Cam. Time’s up.”

  She dropped her chin to her chest and began with a sigh. “Okay. I’ve been offered a job with an outfit out of Boston called Aegis. They do private security work. You know, protect rich kids. Travel to Saudi Arabia and follow some sheikh around while he gathers up more brides. Stuff like that.”

  “Riveting. And challenging, too.” Gunner worked hard to hide his disappointment in Cam’s news.

  “I know. It’s total bullshit. Here’s the thing, Gunner. These guys pay ten times what I’m getting paid by the Air Force. Sure, there are some risks involved, but nothing compared to what we just went through. I’d be a fool not to consider it.”

  Gunner’s mind wandered as he thought of losing the third most important woman in his life behind his Mom and Heather. He rolled his neck on his shoulder and fidgeted with his coffee mug.

  Cam continued. “You’re pissed. I knew it.”

  “No, I’m not pissed. I’m happy for you. I mean, you’re right. The money is good; the stress level is waaay down. You’ll get to travel. Hell, they probably have a 401k plan.”

  “The IRS took away 401k’s, remember?”

  “They did?”

  Cam shook her head and ran her arm through Gunner’s, pressing her body against his. “You’re like my big brother, and Pop’s my pop, too. You guys are all I have, not counting that beast asleep in the gym.”

  Gunner squeezed her hand. “Do you want me to say go for it? I mean, it sounds like a sweet deal.”

  “No, dumbass. I want you to talk me out of it!”

  “Come on, Cam,” protested Gunner. “I don’t want to stand in the way of you pursuing something you’ve maybe dreamed—”

  Cam slugged him, causing him to spill coffee over the rail, something that earned him a stern rebuke from below.

  “Hey, watch out!”

  It was Pop, who’d pulled the four-wheeler under the house and was sprayed with the coffee.

  “Sorry, Pop!” Cam apologized. She turned to Gunner. “Babysitting a bunch of rich people is not my dream. But I don’t want to die poor either. I’m sure as hell not gonna go find some rich guy to take care of me. I’m a soldier, always will be. It’s just, dude, they pay us like shit. Look at what we do for these guys. Look at what we risk. Some pimple-faced kid on Amazon’s switchboard makes triple what we do.”

  “Cam, I get it. What about love of country and all that?”

  “Of course I love my country. And I love you and Bear, too. That’s the real reason I do this stuff. We’re brothers.”

  The elevator door opened up and Pop stumbled in with the dock cart full of groceries. “Little help!”

  “Sure, Pop, we’re comin’,” Gunner quickly responded before turning to Cam. “If you’re sure it’s just about money, we have something to talk about. I need you, Cam. I mean, I have money saved that I could help—”

  The offer earned him another slug. “Don’t you ever do that again or I’ll kick your ass onto the next island!”

  Gunner frowned and rubbed his arm. “You’re downright mean.”

  “Yup, and don’t forget it. Let’s see what Pop’s fixin’ us to eat ’cause lord knows we can’t eat Doritos, oysters, and beer all the time.”

  “Why not?”

  Chapter 48

  Wednesday, April 11

  Gunner’s Residence

  Dog Island

  The group had one of the best days they could recall in a long time. The phone never rang. They avoided the news. Junk food and beer were consumed in mass quantities. Everyone got too much sun and they ended the day totally wiped out.

  After Bear delivered Pop to his house, he returned to talk with Gunner and Cam. The conversation between them had continued throughout the day, bringing Pop in for his words of wisdom from time to time. He’d sacrificed a lot in his life for family and country, and his insight proved beneficial to Cam.

  He’d explained how he had no regrets. Sure, he thought of what might have happened if he had pursued an opportunity to go to college, maybe study law, or even attend business school. In the end, the memories he’d gained in the service were fulfilling, and he felt God had placed him in Berlin to meet his bride, Gunner’s mother.

  Their life together as a family had been full of fun and travel, and now he got to live a toes-in-the-sand lifestyle on Dog Island near his son.

  The more the group drank, the more philosophical they g
ot. They exchanged regrets and discussed their futures, although the concept of meeting someone was off the table, as always.

  When the sun set and the all-day party came to an end, Cam pledged to turn down the offer, but the three of them focused on ways to increase the money they earned, to at least make it marginally commensurate with the risks they took.

  “I’ve heard rumors out of Fort Bragg,” began Gunner as he downed another bottle of water in an effort to nurse an early evening hangover. “The Unit finds a way to take care of their own by having a secret stash, you know, a nest egg that they can access.”

  “It’s true,” said Cam. “I dated, um, well, befriended a guy in Delta Force. He ran his mouth a little too much during some pillow talk, and he said they had well into six figures stashed away.”

  Bear groaned as he sat up in his Adirondack chair. “That’s some serious change. Where did they get it?”

  “It’s accumulated over time,” replied Cam. “They stumble across it during a mission, for example. Those guys do a lot of stuff in Central America fighting the drug cartels. The next thing you know, they stumble across a duffle bag full of cash during an op, said duffle gets mixed in with their gear, and well, whoops, all that cash ends up in their living room.”

  “Nobody’s the wiser, right?” asked Gunner.

  “Exactly,” Cam replied. “Those guys follow a strict code, kinda like the SEALs. Not that different from the bond we have. I guess they turn it over to some kind of quartermaster who keeps track of how much they have and whom they disburse it to.”