“Since I don’t know the command you sent to the probe, can you tell me now what you programmed?”
“I used the ‘move the left elevator control surface’ command. I figured the odds of that being part of the basic controls on the Martian surface to be highly unlikely.” Randal tried to keep his voice even. “Shall I send the next command, sir?” His fingers were already typing as he spoke.
“Hey you guys, we’re doing another test, just shut up and watch,” Michael shouted. His voice was far away again and then right next to Randal’s ear. “Give me the word,” Michael said.
The process was repeated, except this time Michael kept his eyes on his watch. He heard the click as Randal hit the enter key. His eyes watched the second hand move around the timepieces face. Ten, twenty, thirty, thirty-six seconds had passed before Randal said, “Now.” Two more seconds ticked by before the technicians on the test floor shouted.
“Well done, Randal. What was the command this time?”
“I activated a camera light on the nose of the craft that isn’t supposed to come on until the probe enters the Martian atmosphere.” His words were drowned out by a technician on the test floor shouting they’d seen a light.
“Perfect Randal, two for two, but I’m still seeing a two-second delay which could be just a standard reaction time in those guys out there, but I want to be certain. This time, I want to know the command you send. Two seconds across the country is still going to translate into a few minutes in space.”
Randal studied his list of test commands. He knew the wheels hadn’t deployed on the test probe. “Is the probe completely unwrapped, sir?”
Michael stood up and looked out the office window. “Yes,” he said as he sat.
“I’m going to deploy the wheels this time.” Randal was typing.
“Watch for the wheels,” Michael shouted. The eyes of six technicians were instantly riveted on the belly of the probe.
Everything else happened once more and at the thirty-six-second mark, Randal said, “Now.” A cheer went up in less than a second. Michael smiled with success. The entire program wouldn’t need to run in order to send a command once the machine was in space. This was just part of the testing phase.
“These technicians have slow reaction times, Randal. There was no delay this time, so let’s run another six or seven system commands and see what happens.” He wished he could cut the cord on the damn phone and be out on the test floor.
Sam gave up waiting. He crawled in the back seat of the limo to lie down. Of course, he didn’t ask how long the tests would take because he wouldn’t have gotten a straight answer. Michael would have said the same thing he’d heard in the Air Force; the tests will end when they’re over. Pulling his new red jacket tighter around his shoulders, he closed his eyes.
Michael opened the rear door of the limo, and the overhead light seemed bright. Sam was sprawled on the back seat. He shielded his eyes and grunted, sitting up awkwardly on the seat.
“Sorry to disturb you, Sam, but we’re ready to go home now.”
“I assume by the shit-assed grin on your face that all went well.” Sam rubbed his eyes and then snapped the seat belt in place.
“Better than well, my friend, everything went perfectly. We ran over three hundred system tests, and every one of them was received instantly. I’d say the program is a success.”
“This isn’t going to be like you counting your chickens before the eggs hatch because I don’t want to be around to tell you I told you so.” Michael looked sharply at him. Sam smiled.
“It could be, but not likely. Any problems would have shown up by now. The biggest delays were right at the beginning, and they proved to be an issue with human reaction times, not the software. Once we ran the tests with the technicians knowing what was coming, the time delay was zero.”
“Did the funeral home call you? I’m sorry, I didn’t want to rain on your parade, but if they haven’t we need to straighten that out before we can leave.”
“Yes, and thanks for the downer, Sam.” Michael kept a straight face. “Dad’s body is being shipped to California in the next couple of days,” he smiled. “Seriously, I appreciate the consideration and keeping me in line. I know that isn’t your job, but I do thank you.”
“You can thank me by giving me a perpetual raise for as long as the company exists or as long as I live, whichever comes first.” Sam kept a straight face, and Michael grimaced.
“I thought we were friends.”
“We are friends, but if you go back in time and screw with something, then I might not keep my job. Worse than that, you might not start this company and then what?”
Michael laughed—a hearty, relieved belly laugh that seemed to be the knife to cut the tension in the car. Sam joined him; his deep booming, rumbling voice filled the car.
“As soon as I get to the office tomorrow, I’m going to put that into your contract, Sam Worthy. Now, four people know about my trip. All of you will be there on that day when I find out if time travel is possible.” He thought about the size of the computer room at his house. “I might need to renovate my home before then, but you’ll all be witnesses to history.”
“History or the disappearance of our friend,” Sam said glumly.
They reached the airport. The car pulled to a stop at the bottom of the stairs leading to the jet’s cabin. Sam led them inside.
The two seats he and his father had occupied on the way out were brightly lit, mocking him. Reaching under the bulkhead, Michael turned off the lights and went aft to make a drink. He sat in a seat on the opposite side of the plane looking out the window at the ground crew scurrying around the terminal and his aircraft. They moved without any pattern to their actions, but everything must work out correctly somehow.
Sam’s voice rumbled over the address system. “I’ll give you the short and sweet version of the pre-flight passenger announcement: sit down, buckle up, and get ready to fly. Stay that way until I tell you differently, is that understood? I thought so.”
Michael chuckled in spite of his sadness. He decided that once they were in the air, he’d go up front. No sense sitting back there alone. They taxied out to the assigned runway and waited for another plane to land. Twenty seconds later the engines on the Hawker-Siddeley wound up, and the jet moved forward. The instant the plane was straight on the runway, the engines went to full-throttle.
Flung back into his seat, Michael didn’t get much of a chance to appreciate the take-off. Mere seconds passed before the nose of the plane lifted, and they were airborne. Fifteen seconds later, the craft banked left and climbed higher. Now Michael could appreciate the vast ocean of lights below. The ground seemed to be on fire as far as he could see through the tiny portal.
“You can now undo the seat belt and walk about the cabin,” Sam droned.
Michael pressed the belt release and walked to the cockpit. A thick cloth curtain separated the flight deck from the cabin. He pushed through the drape and sat in the co-pilot’s seat. Sam motioned for him to put on the headset hanging on the wall. The high-pitched whine of the engines disappeared as the soft pads slid over his ears.
“Now we can have a conversation without shouting, and you can hear everything I hear. Want to fly the plane?” Michael took one look at the array of lights and displays and shook his head.
“You do the flying, and I’ll do the computer stuff. What time do you figure we’ll get home?” he resisted the temptation to shout.
“Our flying time is about four hours to reach the airport and then drive home, so I’d say you’ll be in bed about two.” He reached forward to flip several switches and noticed Michael watching. “I set the auto-pilot. You had your chance to fly, but you wouldn’t take it.” His voice boomed in Michael’s ears, making him wince. Sam must have noticed and reached over to adjust the volume. “That should be better,” he grinned.
They talked for a while about life in general and what they enjoyed in their spare time. Michael began to yawn
over Ohio and was asleep by the time they crossed into Kansas. He didn’t wake up until they touched down in California.
“Thanks for the ride, Sam. Sorry, I fell asleep on you,” Michael said as they shook hands at the exit. “I wasn’t kidding about that thing with your contract.”
“Forget about it, everybody falls asleep listening to me.”
“I’ll let you know when the other event happens. I need all the support I can get.”
“You do that because I don’t want to miss it. Otherwise, I’ll see you the next time you go for a ride.”
Chapter 10
The next day was hectic. He had to prepare a report for NASA about the tests, change the contract for Sam, organize a funeral for his father, and he wanted to work on the time travel situation.
His first call was to the company’s legal department to change the contract with Sam. The lawyer assured him there would not be a problem. Once that was done, he went down to the lab to work on the report to NASA with Randal. The man was meticulous about details to the point of frustration, but he needed to be included in the process.
They compared notes and discussed any seen or suspected problems. When they were both satisfied, they began to write the report. The first few pages went well, and Michael sensed they might finish before noon. A hopeful thought which was too good to be true. Randal wanted to put all the thousands of electronic readings and feedback data into it and Michael didn’t.
“I’m not hiding anything, but I just don’t think our results are relevant to them. All they want to know is that the program works.” He slammed his hand on the desk and stood up.
“With respect sir, I disagree,” Randal spoke calmly. “I’d want to know everything, so I could be confident in the test results. Maybe that makes me a fuss-budget, but I don’t like surprises. I’d think if they were any good, they’d say the same thing. We could be lying about the testing and how would they know?”
“I don’t disagree with you in principle, but this is not really part of their probe. They can have the broader picture and be satisfied. The minute details of the program and the testing aren’t any of their business. This is, after all, a proprietary program, and they don’t need to see the code.” He was angry that his technician would suggest otherwise.
“We aren’t giving them the program, that’s not what I’m suggesting. If they don’t have all the details about the tests, though, how are they going to know if something is wrong when the probe is in space?”
Michael considered the question. Randal was right. His need for secrecy was clouding his judgment. He was determined to keep his work even if that meant NASA scrapped the probe. He’d lose millions in fines and probably suffer a lawsuit, but nobody else was going to know about time travel. Resigned to meeting the problem halfway, he sighed.
“I won’t let them view the program; not ever, but you and I can be there if a problem occurs. That’s the best I’ll do, Randal. We give them all the details you want about the testing, but the actual program is off limits.” He sat down daring the technician to object.
“That’s all I was suggesting, Mr. Eldridge. They can review all the test data without having access to the code.” He was shaking—badly—and his hands seemed to be constantly scratching his head.
I shouldn’t have been so angry, Michael thought. Too bad this is my life’s work, and I’m not about to let some ham-handed flunky in Florida tinker around with the program to fit their idea of communication. I’ll probably need to dumb down the process for them so they won’t be tempted to touch or change the code. If they do, I’ll own them.
“Okay, Randal, let’s wrap this up and send the report away. They can let me know if they need more information.”
All things went well for the next three hours. Randal was happy. Michael thanked him and went for a late lunch. When he returned to the office, Heather was waiting.
“How was your weekend, Miss Sykes?” Michael asked brightly as he stepped off the elevator and saw her.
“I would have had more fun shopping in New York, but I satisfied that bug on Rodeo Drive instead.”
“Have a seat and I’ll be right with you,” Michael said and shut the door behind her. He turned to his secretary. “Would you please contact Parker’s Funeral Home and work out details for a funeral. My father passed away over the weekend, and I’m up to my neck in preparations for the Mars project. Nothing fancy. I’ll go pick out a casket later, and I don’t think there are many of his friends still around. Maybe a note in the papers would help find them, but I wouldn’t expect more than a hundred people. If there are any problems, you can interrupt us.” He smiled, partly to say thanks and partially because of the expression of shock on Christen’s face. “Don’t worry, I’m fine,” he added to soften the horrible news.
Striding into the office, he took his seat behind the desk. Heather was wearing a short gray skirt with a white blouse that did nothing to hide her figure.
His eyes moved to her face, and her expression told him he’d been caught looking at the goods. He felt the fiery blush exploding from the collar of his shirt.
“Did you like what you saw?” she cooed.
“I’m not sure that’s appropriate work attire, Miss Sykes. I ought to send you home to change.” His voice dripped with desire.
“We could go together.” Her tongue licked her lips, and he wanted her.
“No, you must stop that; there’s something I have to tell you.” His tone sharper than he intended, his words hurt her feelings. For a moment, he wanted to stand up and give her a hug, begging her to forgive him, but she had to know the truth. “I took my father with me to New York. After seeing the awful way he was being treated in that nursing home, I thought he’d enjoy a weekend away. I was planning to move him out of there, but that’s just the biggest reason he went with me. We went to a ball game and had a great time, but I realized on the way that he was losing his memory, fast, but I can’t remember the name of the disease. Anyway, to make a long story short, he passed away in his sleep.” He’d been watching Heather’s face and saw the horror and sadness grow as he told the story. There was just no easy way to tell someone about a death, he realized.
“Oh Michael, I’m so sorry for you, but you don’t seem too broken up about his death,” she gasped and moved to give him a hug. “Is there anything I can do to help? I’m sorry I acted so slutty just now; I didn’t know. I never met him, but he seemed nice to me from what I saw in the video. You poor man, how are you really doing?” She hugged him again and kissed his cheek. There were tears in her eyes when she stood up and went back to the chair.
“I’m okay, now, but it was quite a shock when I found him. I was a mess before Sam saved me from shutting down completely. He’s my pilot. If he hadn’t been there, I think I’d still be curled up in a ball.” Remembering the moment he’d found his father brought a fresh set of tears to his eyes.
“Christen is probably looking after most of the details for the funeral, so I’ll team up with her. Is there anyone in particular that you can think of who might want to be at the funeral?”
Michael shook his head. “I don’t remember any of my parents’ friends. Is that normal? Billy’s parents, but I’d say they were more acquaintances. They didn’t socialize with my parents. Uncle Bernie, but there’s nobody else I can think of, so Christen is going to put an obituary in the papers letting everyone know the date of the funeral.”
“Oh, that is sad, poor man.” She seemed genuinely concerned, which made him realize he wasn’t showing any signs of sadness.
“What did you want to see me about?” he finally asked.
“I just wanted to see you and try to tease you into bed, but that all seems so tacky now. I’m so embarrassed,” she blushed.
“Maybe later,” Michael winked and smiled. She stood, pulled the short skirt down an inch and walked out of the office. He watched her go, admiring what the skirt tried to hide. She stopped to speak with his secretary for a second before steppin
g over to the elevator. Her face turned to him as the elevator doors opened, and she winked before stepping into the car.
Billy almost trampled her as he came out of the elevator. He glanced over his shoulder at her body and then entered Michael’s office. Neither man noticed Christen’s look of frustration and disdain at their attitude.
“How’d it go?” he asked and flopped into the chair in front of the desk.
“Excellent, but my dad died while we were in New York.”
“Oh shit, sorry to hear that, man. Is there anything I can do for you?” His whole attitude changed. Sitting up straight with real concern on his face, Billy became human.
“Naw, the women are taking care of everything,” He nodded to indicate Christen and Heather. “The tests were perfect. Randal is drawing up the report to send to NASA, and I’m going to work on my personal project for the next few days.” He leaned back in his chair, feeling guilty for putting work first, again.
“Your dad was great. I remember those water pistols he gave us and then chased us with the hose. I’ve never been so wet in all my life.” He was smiling and shaking his head. “My mom tore a strip off me when I got home, too. She said she was going to phone your dad and tell him what she thought of soaking her boy.”
Michael laughed at the thought of Billy’s mom yelling at his dad. The woman was five feet tall in her shoes while his father was six feet and outweighed her by a hundred pounds. “Her chasing my dad would’ve been funny to see, but I don’t think she ever called. At least Dad never said anything that I can remember.”
“No, she was always saying things like that, but never did them. I’m sorry your dad’s gone, Michael, I really am.”
“I know, but he had a nice life, and we got to share a ball game. He was happier than I’ve seen him in years.” The mood in the room had turned gloomy.
“So the Mars project is concluded then,” Billy was trying to change the subject. His discomfort showed on his face.
An Altered Course Page 10
