Dark Nights

by Christopher A. Gray

  He maintained his privileged status with Mekhos. The machine seemed to have an affinity towards him, or it recognized the need to have a few select human beings with whom to consult and convey information. Unlike most of the others who interacted with Mekhos, Stravinsky viewed himself as an equal to the quantum computer. As the creator of the most powerful entity in the world Stravinsky occasionally allowed his ego some much-deserved breathing room.

  With the discovery of the twin Earth, Stravinsky was often asked by the media if quantum computer technology would be given to humankind’s celestial cousins, who were apparently decades behind technologically and still suffered through wars and poverty. Stravinsky replied that it wasn’t up to him, and that he would be happy to assist in the task should he be called upon.

  He was regularly approached on the street by autograph seekers, though some were turned back by his bodyguard. As a high profile person with the most intimate ties to Mekhos, the government knew he was a target for extremist groups. He lived alone, but by executive order he always had an escort while out. The building was under constant surveillance as well. Stravinsky put on his jacket and exited the apartment.

  He waited on the street outside the lobby. He looked at his Raim ‒ he was a few minutes early. The assigned drivers were always punctual so he knew he wouldn’t be waiting long. A few meters away at the end of the curved driveway he saw a police officer talking to a tall, well-dressed man. The man glanced at Stravinsky and gave a curt nod. Stravinsky nodded back. A new bodyguard, he thought.

  The car pulled up, and Stravinsky got in. As the car exited the driveway he noticed that the police officer and the agent had vanished. He thought nothing of it.

  – 50 –

  Doug was on his way to Arthur Leach’s office as he heard his phone chime. It was a message from Leach requesting an immediate meeting in the conference room. Doug was getting impatient at the pace of progress. They needed to send a contingent to FLO now.

  Arthur’s official title was White House Chief of Staff, but his role had evolved into something resembling White House Representative in Charge of All Things FLO. As such, he was more of a project manager and the Pentagon liaison, heavily involved in expert strategy sessions and the man reporting directly to the President. Leach was on the phone when Doug arrived. Doug was standing directly in front of his desk, looking impatient.

  “Thanks, I’ll call you back when I have more information.” Leach said, hanging up the phone. “You got here fast,” he said, looking up at Doug

  “When will the personnel list for the contingent to FLO be finalized?” asked Doug. “I don’t need to remind anyone we’re under the gun, and to go through normal channels will simply waste time.”

  Leach studied Doug for a moment. He looked at his watch.

  “Your timing couldn’t be better Doug. Let’s go.”

  They walked to the secure briefing room where several other individuals had gathered. They waited for several more minutes until everyone who’d been called had arrived, including Janet. Doug sat down beside her, taking her hand in his as they exchanged a smile. Their relationship wasn’t a secret.

  The others in attendance included Persaud, Bertrand, a White House representative named Nathan Smith, and Brent Jamieson, a security and cryptology expert. Jamieson had been a naval aviator. He was also a decorated war veteran and most notably a highly respected Shuttle commander. Doug had heard Jamieson’s name in connection with high-level briefings but hadn’t yet met him. Doug had worked on and off with most of the others since the discovery of FLO. A few he did not recognize were also present.

  An aide handed out personalized folders to some individuals, including Doug. Leach greeted the room.

  “As you know, we’ve had various teams studying the effects of the recent lunar escape and possible solutions. Virtually all data has pointed to multiple failures in insect and animal migration patterns, pollinating insect behavior patterns, and the domino effect which will impact agriculture yields, livestock yields and inevitably overall food supply shortages. Most of this data comes from the Envoy and their studies on FLO after they were left with no moon. We have now verified some early indications of ecosystem stress here on Earth. The stress is increasing slowly but steadily.

  “Some of you have been pressing for a contingent to be sent to FLO to negotiate a solution. You will be pleased to hear that we’ve been given the go-ahead. Those of you who have been given a green folder have been chosen for this uniquely important mission. You are all going to FLO. Those with a red folder are the backup personnel.”

  The group stared at Leach in absolute silence and then looked around at each other. Doug and four others had been given green folders. Janet and five others had red ones.

  Doug spoke up first.

  “Arthur, with the exception of Dr. Bertrand and Commander Jamieson, none of us are astronauts. It takes years of training to become one. What are we doing here?”

  “You don’t need to worry about that Doug,” replied Leach. “You’ll be travelling in the Envoy’s ship. It is almost completely automated and has advanced provisions for making the six week journey as comfortable as possible for the crew. None of the Envoy members were astronauts either. That’s the most important point here. They made it to Earth in fine shape as you know. You will of course need some training on how to function in zero gravity, on emergency procedures, scientific equipment use and so on. Due to his familiarity with its systems, Dr. Bertrand will be in command of the ship while you’re en route. Brent Jamieson is a naval aviator and commanded two Shuttle missions. He’ll be co-pilot. Congratulations Doug. You will be in command of the team once you touch down on FLO.”

  Doug stared at Leach and then looked around at the others. Most of them were in a state of shock. In the space of a few seconds Doug went from being taken aback to simply and resolutely stating the obvious. “I’m honored. I’m also an astrophysicist, not a special operations commander. And I don’t have military experience.”

  “Of course,” Leach replied, waving away Doug’s objections. “But you are intimately familiar with the scientific details of the crisis and you have done a great job leading the scientific team here. Plus you have experience in diplomatic relations. You’re the right choice for the job.”

  Carl Bertrand stepped forward. “I must agree. Dr. Lockwood is a very capable individual. I’m sure he will fulfill his duties admirably.”

  And that, Doug thought, is that. Nothing like your own boss and an alien invader conspiring to volunteer you. What irritated Doug most was the fact that they were right.

  Leach and his assistant went around the room shaking hands with the team. Doug bowed to the inevitable.

  “Is this the entire team?” he asked.

  “No. Dr. Foley will be joining you.”

  “Really,” Doug said flatly. “Stan Foley is in very rough shape right now. What’s our departure date?”

  “You will lift off immediately after completing an accelerated ten day training schedule.”

  “Ten days!” Doug started, a little more loudly than he wanted. “Stan Foley is in the infirmary recovering from appendicitis. Given the time frame, he is in no condition for space travel.”

  “An appendicitis procedure is not considered major surgery.” Leach said it like he was reading from a script. “He will be given a couple of days to recover and then will train with you. In addition to her psychology background Dr. Persaud is a medical doctor, so he will be in good hands during the journey.”

  Bertrand interjected. “I assure you, Dr. Lockwood, despite the zero gravity conditions the ship is very comfortable. Dr. Foley will be fine.”

  “I’d still like a second opinion offered by someone from this Earth, Dr. Bertrand, if it’s all the same to everyone here.”

  “The decision has been made, Doug,” Leach said clearly, loud enough in fact to quiet the room entirely. “You and the rest of the group have earned this. Everyone believes that this team is the right combi
nation of skill, experience, drive and diplomacy. It may not feel right to you now, but it will once we get into it.” No argument and no discussion tolerated, Doug thought, which means there’s something else going on.

  Doug glanced over at Miekela. He had gotten to know her fairly well since she arrived just before the Envoy had landed on Earth. She hesitated before speaking up.

  “It’s not a problem, Doug,” she said, looking right at him. “Dr. Foley will be under my care. He should be fully recovered well before we reach FLO.”

  Doug just nodded in her direction. Their minds are made up and they’re asserting their expertise. It makes no sense, but Stan is going.

  “Dr. Lockwood, uh, Doug,” Brent Jamieson had moved over to stand next to him. “I have something to offer, personally, if you’ll hear me out.”

  Doug looked at him, saw some urgency in his expression and nodded after a brief pause.

  “When I was chosen for advanced astronautics and mission training, my initial reaction was elation followed almost immediately by a feeling of apprehension and dread.”

  Bertrand, the Envoy commander, nodded involuntarily at Jamieson’s words. That assent helped focus Doug’s attention on what Jamieson was saying.

  “I went to my CO, privately, and basically spilled my guts. I told him that after all the hard work, after combat duty, after everything that had happened in my career to that point, I was feeling rocky to the point of fear.”

  Jamieson had everyone’s attention because his voice had cracked ever so slightly.

  “My CO heard me out, sat me down, then told his staff sergeant that we weren’t to be disturbed for any reason. He then told me what I’m about to tell you. He told me that all the hard work in the world and all the experience in the world, all my medals and all of the loyalty of everyone I was serving with was never designed to prepare me for the unknown. All it could do was prevent me from walking away. He pointed out that I didn’t come into his office to tell him that I couldn’t or wouldn’t do it. He pointed out that I had just come into his office to tell him that I was troubled about the unknown.

  “He also told me that I had earned the respect of my peers mainly because I worked hard and never hesitated to get the best advice and to always give credit where credit was due. He told me that my hard work had made me the expert that other people trusted. Do you know who else I just described, Dr. Lockwood?”

  “You’ve described a lot of people,” Doug said frankly. “I’ve been working with some of them for weeks.”

  “Maybe,” Jamieson said, “but the one I’m describing is you, Doug. Accept it. You’re about to undergo intensive training and instruction. You will ace it. The wannabes and the political animals who might have lobbied for your spot would not be able to cut it. You will. This, and with respect to Dr. Persaud and Dr. Blair, is what separates the men from the boys.”

  Doug looked away for a moment. Then he looked back at Jamieson and just nodded slowly because there was nothing to say.

  – 51 –

  As the meeting wound down Doug was surrounded by members of the primary team and an advisor. He tried to extricate himself to speak with Janet but found it impossible as Nathan Smith congratulated him and proceeded to give unsolicited advice on diplomacy. Doug barely heard him as he saw Janet and Leach in conversation. After a moment she looked over at him and then strode out of the room. Doug excused himself and followed Janet to her office. He entered and shut the door. She turned to him.

  “I should be on the primary list. As an expert in quantum mechanics I need to be there, to gather first-hand information on how Mekhos was able to transfer its planet between universes. Instead, they’re sending Smith, a career diplomat, whose primary function is to shake hands and pose for photo-ops!”

  “You’re right. I’ll talk to Leach.”

  “There’s no way he’ll change his mind. The team has been set. I’m your backup. So no matter what happens, one of us goes, the other stays. And the person that goes may not be able to get back.”

  They looked at each other. Janet was right – he hadn’t thought through to that part. There was no guarantee the team would be allowed back in a reasonable time frame, if at all. It suddenly occurred to Doug that everyone else in the meeting had looked just as pale and shaky as he now suddenly felt. It was all too obvious, especially with the example of the Envoy members from FLO now being held indefinitely on Earth. The greatest likelihood was that the mission was a one-way trip. He looked down into her eyes.

  “We’re going to succeed. I’m coming back.”

  He hugged her. She looked at him, then down to his chest, embarrassed that her eyes were starting to tear up.

  “You’re patronizing me, Lockwood. But I don’t mind. Despite all that’s happened, I feel lucky that we found each other.”

  Doug paused before answering her. They were in love, but this was the first time Janet had expressed her feelings.

  “I feel the same way. I feel like I’m being torn up inside. I want you and I to take a long drive somewhere, anywhere. You’ve given me one hell of a motivation to return.”

  He could feel her hugging him tighter.

  “And besides, we only just agreed on our favorite restaurant in DC. Do you think I’d want to spend any more time than necessary on FLO if I couldn’t get a decent steak? No way!”

  She smiled slightly at the weak joke. Doug smiled back just as weakly.

  “You’ll be great,” she said. “I know you’ll be back.”

  There wasn’t much conviction in her voice, but it wasn’t the moment to falter any further. There was too much important work to do, so they had no other choice but to accept the fiction. They’d been given instructions to immediately report for training and billeting at Andrews. There was nothing left for them to do but head back to the apartment, pack whatever was allowed on the list in their orders, and await secure transport.

  It was raining hard, as it had been for three days straight. The weather patterns were changing all along the eastern seaboard, and not for the better. Their thoughts of an apartment that one of them might not ever see again were left unspoken. They were being escorted by a Marine guard to a driveway on which a blacked out Suburban was idling. Just when you think it can’t get any more serious and intense, Doug thought, it gets even more serious and intense.

  – 52 –

  Bishop felt a mild jolt. The automated alarm gently woke him by administering a small electric current to his forehead. The dim, cramped quarters allowed him to turn over and stretch, sit up, and do a few exercises by pressing his arms or legs against the bulkhead. There was no other room to move around. The craft was necessarily small to keep its radar cross-section at a minimum. Other exercise came from electric stimulation by way of small electrodes on his muscles to prevent atrophy while he slept, which was ninety-five percent of the time.

  Normally the safeguards would not be enough to prevent the loss of muscle and bone mass during such an extended period of weightlessness, but an intravenous pump contained a drug designed to counteract the effects. It was one of the more useful items of information provided by Dr. Morris. Researchers on FLO had devised a way to almost eliminate the negative physiological effects of extended space travel.

  Bishop opened a food paste container. The food was nutritious, but bland. Completely functional. He was thankful for the fact it also contained a mild drug designed to keep a person relaxed in such close quarters, while leaving his head just clear enough to go over his mission during the brief periods of consciousness. There was a tablet computer affixed to the wall that contained all mission details. He swiped the screen and touched an icon labeled Audio Brief 11. A female voice described the details of the mission section. It was another way to keep him focused.

  At the end of his meal and audio briefing he inserted a pointed straw into a drink bag that would act as his desert and the gateway to another long sleep. He checked the IV tube in his arm and the fluid level of the solution on the opposit
e wall. It would keep him hydrated. Bishop used the ten minutes of consciousness left to him to check the craft’s instrumentation and re-secure his straps for his deep sleep.

  Few men would have qualified for such a mission. What made it easier was Bishop’s stable psychological profile and his ability to apply meditation techniques to reduce his heart rate if he felt stressed. Together with the drugs he was able to exist in the tiny, dim spacecraft under conditions that would have driven most men mad.

  He glanced at the tablet countdown calendar. Seven weeks before descent. He closed his eyes and went over the mission one more time in his head as the cocktail that would allow him to sleep uninterrupted for the next sixty hours took effect.

  – 53 –

  I need to put my feelings for Janet aside, Doug thought. My responsibilities are to the mission, and the crew. The mission is far too important. He was standing stock still, thinking about that last bit. Every person on Earth was depending on them and didn’t even know it. But Janet still loomed in his thoughts. Bits of things flashed through his mind. Hard fate of man, on whom the heavens bestow a drop of pleasure for a sea of woe. The line from a poem was stuck in his head. I’m going to have to look it up. He wanted to make it back to Janet so that he could read her the whole thing.

  He attended several meetings with various team members to go over mission details. Doug was currently locked up with Leach, Bertrand and Jamieson in a physics lab at Andrews that had been set up weeks before in one of the hangars. In addition to their pilot duties, Bertrand and Jamieson were responsible for several in-flight science experiments.

  Doug hadn’t had any contact with Jamieson aside from their initial meeting at the mission personnel announcement. Jamieson had a degree from MIT and was a former naval aviator, flying the F-14 Tomcat before the type had been retired in 2006. After that he had been transferred to Naval Intelligence. Doug had no idea if Jamieson had spent his time there in the field or pushing papers, but he seemed competent enough.