Crash
FreeForm, Volume 0
Orrin Jason Bradford
Published by Porpoise Publishing, 2019.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Crash (FreeForm, #0)
The Thrills have just Begun
Top of a mountain somewhere in Colorado
The Thrills have just Begun
Enjoy this Sample Chapter
FreeForm
Crash
Orrin Jason Bradford
The world won’t know what hit it...
Tasked to assess a Level III Civilization deep in space, Sluneg is fast-approaching the respective planet—one known only as Earth. When his vessel experiences a grave malfunction, an unlikely assistant may guide him to safety, but, without a quiet landing, the entire mission will be put in jeopardy. Can Crenosian technology live up to its intergalactic renown?
B.I.U.F.O.’s secret taskforce hasn’t missed the object barreling down on them, and, with lack of a better option, recently inducted field agent Pat Vogt is chosen to investigate. Somewhere in the mountains of North Carolina, a seeming aircraft is set for collision, but no one could possibly imagine the repercussions of its cargo.
Aboard, a dark cocoon is pulsing. Now, it’s a race against time.
In this pithy prequel to The FreeForm Series, Sci-Fi guru O.J. Bradford starts things off with a bang. Reinventing the novelette en route, Crash will captivate new readers and long-standing fans alike. Seeking a shortcut to serious fun? Your wormhole lies within.
Orrin Jason Bradford’s style has been compared to the “early works of Dean Koontz and the late great Michael Crichton.” Freeform: Crash is the prequel everyone has been waiting for in the action-packed, sci-fi Freeform series.
The Thrills have just Begun
Pick up your copy of Beginnings:
Book 1 in the FreeForm Series
Available at your favorite online store
Or grab your free copy at:
http://www.wbradfordswift.com/beginnings
Top of a mountain somewhere in Colorado
MARCH, 1993
3:55 a.m. Just five more minutes and I can rest my hard head on that soft pillow in my bunk, Lieutenant Bill Nelson thought.
This was supposed to be a cushy assignment, and in many ways it was, but he hadn’t taken into account the incredible amount of boredom of a 12-hour stint looking at a computer screen that never did anything but glowed green. Now he understood why such assignments only lasted six months. Otherwise, you go stark raving mad from the boredom alone.
3:56 a.m. Four more minutes, eight hours of shut eye, and then he’d be done for good. A couple of weeks on leave during which he planned to be mostly drunk somewhere in the Florida Keys and then on to his next assignment. Whatever Uncle Sam had planned, it had to be better than this one.
It started with a bleep bleep as a small green dot appeared at the edge of the screen, and then all hell broke loose as a shrill alarm shattered the early morning silence, threatening to bust Nelson’s eardrums, and a light above the computer screen started flashing red. Moments later, lines of data began scrolling across the bottom of the monitor as the green dot made its way above it.
“Holy shit!” Nelson shouted as he shot up straight in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He reached over to his right and toggled the switch that turned off the alarm and flashing light. This can’t be happening, he thought. Less than five minutes and he’d be done. He could slip off to the cot and pillow that waited for him in his room. Get some good sleep and then get the hell out of here. Maybe I could just ignore that little green dot, he thought. It was probably just a bug in the system anyway, but even as he had the thought his hand reached beyond the switch to the red phone. He knew his orders. Report any unusual occurrences, and this one had to be a doozy to set off the alarms.
As he held the receiver to his ear, he studied the lines of data. Yep, had to be a glitch in the system. No way could something out in space be traveling that fast and heading directly at Earth. A few more seconds passed before he heard a click at the other end and a gravelly voice said, “Oliver Stanwick here. What you got?”
Holy mother-of-pearl, it’s the head of B.I.U.F.O. himself, Nelson thought as he sat up even straighter. “Sorry to disturb you, sir. It’s probably just a glitch in the system, but I have a bogey in my screen.”
“Size?”
“Pardon, sir?”
“What’s the size of the bogey?” Oliver asked again.
Nelson studied the screen again before replying, “That’s the odd thing. It doesn’t appear to be that large. Not more than forty or fifty meters across. I’m pretty sure that’s not what set off the system.”
There was a pause at the other end of the phone before Oliver asked, “ If it wasn’t the size that set it off, then what did?”
“Well, according to the data the bogie is traveling over 275,000 kilometers per hour.”
“What was that, Lieutenant?” Oliver said.
Nelson repeated the number before adding, “But here’s the thing, Colonel. Not only is it traveling at such an impossible high-speed, but it’s also decelerating as it draws closer to earth. Shouldn’t Earth’s gravitational field increase its speed?”
“One would think,” Oliver replied. “And what’s its trajectory? “
“Oh, it’s going to hit us all right. No doubt about it. It’s a little too early to say for sure but, if we’re lucky, it could hit somewhere in the Atlantic. That is, if the damn thing actually does exist.”
“Okay, Lieutenant. Keep me posted. What time is it?”
“4:01,” Nelson replied.
“You due to get off your shift, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir, but...”
“Yeah, you’ll need to stay at your post. Alert your C.O. to that effect.”
“Yes, sir.” Nelson heard another click as the line went dead.
RETIRED COLONEL OLIVER Stanwick hung up the phone and sat up in bed. He glanced over at his wife, who remained asleep beside him. Thank god, the woman could sleep through practically anything after being married to him for the last twenty years. He’d have to check out Nelson’s record later to see what his security clearance was, but first, he had a couple more urgent calls to make. He climbed out of bed, his feet landing in slippers where he’d methodically placed them the night before. He picked his cellphone up from the nightstand and used its light to guide him to the bathroom. After relieving himself, he washed his hands then splashed some water in his face before making the first call.
He heard the phone ring once then a crisp voice on the other end answer. “Crenshaw here. Who am I speaking with?”
“This is Oliver Stanwick, Crenshaw. My security code is Alpha, Delta, 414. You draw the short straw again?”
“No sir, I like the third shift. Nice and quiet. Well, usually it is.”
“Yeah, well not tonight. I have an object just reported by the Colorado station that needs identifying. I’d like to put Armstrong and his team on it.”
“No can do, sir. Armstrong was admitted this morning for an emergency appendectomy. He’ll be out several days.”
Damn, Oliver thought. If this bogie turned out to be what he suspected it was, he wanted his best man on the job. “Okay, how about Williamson. Put him on it.”
“Sorry, sir, no can do again. “Williamson is on leave until further notice. He finally took all those back days of vacation. Rumor has it he’s somewhere in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness.”
“Shit! Then who do we have?”
“Hold just a second,” Crenshaw said, then, “There’s a new graduate. It says here she was top in her class. Her name is Vogt, Patricia Vogt.”
“Really? That’s it?”
“Yes, sir. You know
those last government cutbacks hit us pretty hard.”
Oliver sighed. “Yeah, I’ll say. Okay, notify this Vogt woman to meet me at 0:600 at Command Center. She’ll be answering straight to me.” He disconnected the call and leaned against the sink. He didn’t like how things were unfolding. All the years of working and waiting for something no one really believed ever would happen, but preparing anyway just in case. Now, his two best men were unavailable. He sighed again. Oh well, we’ll just have to make it all work. He stared at the phone for a few seconds before placing a second call.
This time the phone rang four or five times before someone picked up on the other end.
“I was wondering how long it would take for you to get around to me,” an older man’s voice said.
“You knew I was going to call?” Oliver asked.
“Let’s just say I had a hunch,” the old man replied.
“Then why did it take you so long to pick up?”
“I dozed off. I’m not as young as you. I need my beauty sleep.”
“Did you pick up anything?” Oliver asked, choosing to ignore that last remark. He’d met the old man once and knew it would take far more than sleep to help his appearance.
“Yes, though it’s been faint so I couldn’t be sure. Started a few days ago—” Oliver’s phone beeped, momentarily cutting him off.
“That’s Colorado calling me. Hold a sec.” He switched over to the other call. “Yeah?”
“This is Nelson again, sir. Sorry to have to disturb you, but I thought you’d want to know. It appears our bogie is real after all.”
“Really? How do you know?”
“It just crashed into Comm Sat 244. Destroyed it and then veered off. It’s now entering our atmosphere.”
“Shit,” Oliver muttered. “Anything else?”
“Just one thing, sir. It’s unlikely the object will make it as far as the Atlantic. Projections suggest it’ll land someone in the western part of North Carolina. Looks like it’s coming in pretty hot.”
“Ok, Lieutenant. Keep me abreast. I want to know as soon as we have some idea where it...” Oliver paused, just catching himself from saying ‘lands.’ “Where it hits,” he corrected himself.
“Yes, sir. Will do so, sir.”
Oliver disconnected the call and returned to the other one waiting.
“We’ve got a problem.” He told the old man the situation.
“You better get someone out there ASAP before some country bumpkin finds it and calls the local news channel. Oliver?”
“Yes?” Oliver was surprised to hear the old man use his first name.
“Son, we knew this might happen someday. That’s why your organization exists. You can handle this.”
“Yes, sir,” Oliver replied, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “I’ll keep you posted.” He disconnected the call.
SLUNEG'S FIRST THOUGHT upon awakening was that something wasn't right. His second thought, as he fought to regain consciousness, was that something was horribly wrong. These thoughts were confirmed by the blaring sound of an alarm that he had only heard once before during his training for this mission. He shook his head to clear it just to have a wave of vertigo pass over him. He felt for an instant that he might vomit but fought the sensation off. He reached over with his left hand to pull the emergency release lever then panicked for a moment as he heard the hissing sound as the pressures equalized. What if he had just released the life-sustaining atmosphere into the vacuum of space?
Think, you crazy Crenosian, Sluneg told himself. Such a radical pressure difference would have far more extreme and deadly effects than just the inability to breathe. But apparently something was wrong. Otherwise, what had caused the alarm to sound? It didn't take him long to track down the problem. He found it when he tried to awaken his pilot and discovered she was dead even though she appeared to be perfectly preserved in her own capsule. The alarm had no doubt sounded when she’d failed to awaken ahead of him as had been planned. It took him several minutes to figure out how to turn off the alarm, during which he grew more annoyed. After finally locating the switch to cut it off, he turned his attention back to the pilot. When his efforts to resuscitate her failed, he proceeded to satisfy the great hunger left over from his long sleep by methodically devouring her. No need to waste such a useful and unexpected resource. After all, the whole mission was about survival of the fittest, right?
Besides, she had knowledge and training in piloting the ship far beyond his own. His body should be able to tap into at least some of that wisdom as it assimilated her DNA into his own form. Far from a pure transfer but better than losing it all. He had a feeling he was going to need every advantage to get through this unexpected turn of events.
AS A REFRAIN OF YANKEE Doodle Dandy started playing again for the fourth time, Pat Vogt’s dream shifted to her dancing with George M. Cohan as played by the actor James Cagney. It took another round of the patriotic song before she began to suspect something was wrong. After all, it had been a favorite movie she had watched many times with her father growing up. Which is why she had selected that song for her special ringtone that would only be used if an emergency call came in from her new employee, B. I. U. F. O., The Bureau of Investigation of Unidentified Flying Objects. When James Cagney's face suddenly morphed into the face of her new boss, Oliver Stanwick, Pat moaned and turned over to fumble for her cellphone, checking the digital clock on the nightstand as she did so. 3:20 a.m. Pat groaned as she calculated that she had been asleep less than three hours, having been out drinking with her friends who thought she had just passed an exam for her real estate license and had insisted on taking her out to celebrate.
"Hello," Pat said as she made the connection and sat up in bed.
"Is this officer Vogt?" a man with a slight southern drawl asked on the other end of the line.
"Yes," Pat replied. "Who is this?"
"This is Crenshaw, ma'am. Just wanted to give you a heads up that someone will be arriving at your apartment shortly to take you to your first assignment."
"An assignment already?"
"Yes, ma'am." But before Crenshaw could continue Pat heard the crisp rapping of knuckles on her front door loud enough for Crenshaw to hear it as well. “The man's name at the door is Shep.”
“What? No secret code name or anything?” Pat joked.
“Shep is his code name,” Crenshaw replied. “His real name is classified. Good luck, ma'am," Crenshaw added before hanging up.
Pat swung her legs out of bed and grabbed the robe off the chair as she ran to the door.
"I'm coming!" she shouted. "Just a moment please."
As she reached the door, Pat snugged the robe around her waist and peered through the peephole to see a well dressed young man wearing plain clothes waiting on the other side. Before opening the door, she called out, “What’s your name?”
“Shep,” came the quick reply. “Uncle Crenshaw sent me to pick you up and deliver you to the family outing.”
Uncle Crenshaw. How cute, Pat thought as she unlocked the door and let him in.
“Sorry, I just got the call,” Pat said to explain still being in her nightgown and robe.
“No problem, ma'am. I understand. Just take your time. I’ll wait here.”
“Do I have time to take a shower?” Pat asked, realizing she probably smelled like old cigarette smoke and booze. Even though she didn’t smoke, the bar had reeked of it.
“No, sorry, ma'am. We don’t have that much time.”
“Okay, just a second. I have my mission gear all packed. It’ll only take a minute for me to change. Make yourself comfortable.”
“Yes, ma'am,” code name Shep replied but remained standing at parade rest.
I guess that’s as comfortable as he’s allowed to get, Pat thought, retreating to her bedroom where she quickly changed into a pair of deck pants and a matching blouse. She pulled the packed bag from under her bed, glanced around at the room for just a moment, then returned to the livin
g room where she found Shep standing precisely as before. A bit of an automaton, she thought but a cute one nevertheless. Get your mind out of the gutter. This is official business. Her first mission with B.I.U.F.O. She felt a shudder of excitement and nervousness course through her at the thought. Don’t get your hopes up. Probably just some routine investigation of some farmers somewhere who saw a bright light in the sky that’ll probably turn out to be nothing more than swamp gas.
She would think back to this moment many times in the future and realize just how wrong she had been.
SLUNEG FOUND IT ODD that the ship and its two-member crew had passed through the wormhole portion of the trip without any complications only to run into problems on this last leg of the journey. Making the passage from one wormhole to another had a much higher chance of complications arising, at least that had been the conclusion of the reports he had read in preparation for this journey. Of course, the particular wormhole that he’d used to bring him to this distant part of the galaxy had only recently been discovered. As was standard protocol, an unmanned AI controlled probe had been sent through first without any difficulties. It had been from the probe’s searching that a level 3 civilization had been discovered several hundred klinkons from the wormhole, making it necessary for the last leg of the journey to be completed under sombulance, but that was standard practice and rarely resulted in the death of a team member.
Sluneg pulled out the ship log that had been recorded by the AI to determine what had gone wrong. The only thing he discovered out of the ordinary was that the ship had passed through an area of space with an uncommonly high amount of debris, but how could that have affected the pilot without affecting him? Perhaps it would have been a good idea to perform an autopsy before devouring the body, but it was too late now. The pilot’s death would go down as an unsolved mystery which was not that uncommon on such voyages.
Crash Page 1
