Mind spinning, he tried to think of an excuse to use the stairs, but couldn't conceive of a way to justify climbing fifty-two stories. Dumbfounded, he couldn't react. She had grabbed him and dragged him forward, racing toward the elevator. He was still looking up when the elevator doors closed behind him and the doorman said, "Next stop, observation deck, five hundred and twenty feet up."
Robert cringed as he remembered the twisting sensation his stomach felt as the elevator surged up. For five seconds, Robert managed to remain calm, but the gentle touch of the woman he had grown so fond of, broke the barriers of fear. He wept, sobbed really, for what seemed like twenty minutes. He spilled out onto the observation deck, terrified. Moving like a scared rabbit, Robert searched for the stairs through blurry eyes. He didn't hear anyone asking to help him. He didn't see the people diving out of his way. His worst fear had been sprung on him before he had a chance to prepare. Robert found the stairs, stumbled all the way down, hailed a cab and went home.
He never heard from her again.
Since that day he resolved to conquer his fear of elevators and had done so with some success. He regularly used elevators now, using a counting technique that no one ever noticed. As long as he kept counting, his fear could never take hold.
The only person he ever told about his fear was Connelly, his closest friend and greatest supporter. She hadn't teased him once since he revealed his secret fear and occasionally, when they rode in elevators together, she would shoot him a reassuring glance. As far as he was concerned, her judgment and understanding where infallible—it's one of the reasons he was willing to follow her into space. Of course, no amount of reassuring glances could ease his fears about this elevator ride.
Robert looked up at the blue ribbon reaching up into the sky and wondered how high he would have to count. "How long will it take? To get to the top, I mean."
Harris looked over at Robert. He'd been explaining the beneficial ramifications of the space elevator on space travel and how their mission, if successful, would be the first of many jaunts to the outer reaches of the solar system. He looked at Robert with some sympathy in his eyes. "All day, I'm afraid."
"As in twenty-four hours?"
"Eighteen"
Robert squinted his eyes as he performed some mental calculations. "At one number per second…. Sixty-four thousand, eight hundred. Never counted that high before."
"Excuse me?" Harris looked confused.
Robert shook his head. "Nothing…nothing. When are we leaving?"
"One last debrief and we're boarding," Harris said as he eyeballed Robert's pale face. "You don't look so good."
"I'm, ahh, I'm fine. Really," Robert said, but didn't sound all that convincing. "I'm ok." He looked up at the elevator ribbon and shuddered.
Harris let out a sigh and looked over his shoulder. The rest of the crew were speaking with Choi, well out of ear shot. "Listen, Dr. Samuels…. If you're uncomfortable with enclosed spaces, maybe you should rethink—"
"No," Robert said. "It's not that…just…just elevators."
"You're sure?" Harris asked.
"Been that way all my life," Robert said. "Put me in a coffin, I'm fine. Put me in a coffin in an elevator, not so fine."
Smiling, Harris patted Robert on the shoulder. "You know, we are well funded. You can have a sedative for the duration of the ascent."
Robert's eyes widened. "Seriously?"
"Sure, if you don't mind waking up in space."
Robert again looked up at the elevator ribbon. This time he smiled. "Thank the Lord."
* * * * *
Willard stretched as he stepped out of the elevator and onto the largest man-made spacecraft ever built. The very long trip in the elevator had gone smoothly and was exciting for the first hour and then time to time when the continents came into view. He'd thumbed through the magazines kept on the module, obviously meant for the more scientifically inclined. After an hour of sitting he was kicking himself for not bringing a good novel along. During the final hours, when all conversations were exhausted, the magazine supply had run out and several of the crew had fallen asleep, Willard took to amusing himself by watching Robert, who had been heavily sedated, twitch in his sleep.
Craning his neck in every direction, Willard gazed at the massive docking bay. The floor was smooth until it reached the curved walls, where massive columns ran from floor to ceiling every five feet. "They look like ribs," Willard said as Connelly entered the bay behind him.
"The belly of the beast," Connelly said.
Peterson stepped out of the elevator module and stood next to Connelly. His eyes went wide as he looked at the bay. The ribbed walls stretched thirty feet high and seventy five feet across. Three large doorways were located on one wall and the opposite wall appeared to be one massive door. In front of the door were three small spacecraft that looked like a cross between jet fighters and tanks. "Wow," he said. "Beast is right. I didn't imagine the ship was this big."
"Beast, nothing. Welcome to the Surveyor, folks. This is the most state-of-the-art spacecraft ever built. It's going to take us to Jupiter and back. She's the first of her kind, and your new home. And she's got all the amenities of home, and then some."
"So this is it, huh? We're in space?" Willard jumped up and down a few times, his footfalls echoing in the massive bay. "Gravity feels real."
"It should," Choi said as she wheeled the still unconscious Robert into the bay. "The World Space Organization spent thirty billion dollars developing the series of spinning superconductors spread throughout the ship. They produce a powerful gravitomagnetic field—artificial gravity—that doesn't require the craft to also be a massive centrifuge."
"That's a lot of money," Willard said, looking around the bay. "They put any of that cash into developing space windows?"
"Sorry, Mr. Willard," Harris said. "We're on a tight schedule. I need you in your quarters in twenty minutes and in your impact chairs in twenty-five."
Nods all around. Willard looked down at Robert who sat unconscious. "What about him?"
"Should we just leave him out? No reason to wake him up, just to put him back to sleep. Let him wake up at Jupiter."
Harris nodded and clapped his hands together. "Let's do it. I'll show you each to your quarters. We'll get Dr. Samuels squared away, then the rest of you can get in the chairs. Choi will do a final inspection before launch."
"What happens if we're not in the chairs by launch?"
Harris frowned. "Be in the chair by launch." With that, he walked away, towards the nearest doorway.
Willard looked at Peterson. "What happens if you're not in the chairs by launch?"
"You'll be a stain on the wall by the time we get to Europa."
"Oh," Willard said. "He could have said that." Willard shouted ahead to Harris, "You could have said that."
* * * * *
Willard had been in his quarters for five minutes. In the first forty-five seconds he took off all his clothes accept for his boxers. For the remaining four minutes and fifteen seconds he had been pacing in front of his impact chair. After seeing Lucy the guinea pig eaten by the chair, Willard hadn't given it a second thought. But just minutes ago, after Robert had been stripped and hauled into his chair, he'd witnessed first hand how the chair consumed a human body. The metal oozed over Robert's flesh like it was alive, swallowing him up. Willard felt his stomach flip flop as the metal slid over Robert's nostrils and eyes and felt a slight queasiness when he saw tubes move up through the silver metal skin and into Robert's nose, mouth and arms.
He was relieved to see Robert's breathing chest rise and fall beneath the metal epidermis, but couldn't help feeling fearful of being encased in a metal tomb. When the process was complete, Robert looked like a worn statue of pharaoh.
The experience left Willard unusually nervous. His extreme attitude was taking a vacation and left him with sweaty palms and a wrinkled forehead. He looked down at his boxers, then back to the chair, imagining how it would feel wh
en the cold liquid metal covered his nether-regions. "No way," he said.
After taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Willard inched forward, reaching a hand out to the arm of the chair. "Okay…I can do this."
With a quick burst of motion, Willard put his hand on the armrest. The liquid metal began to cover his fingers. He pulled away quickly. After sliding his boxers to the floor, Willard inhaled and exhaled several times in a row.
"One…"
Willard gripped his fists into tight balls.
"Two…"
Leaning forward, his muscles tensed.
"Thr—"
The door behind him whooshed open and Choi stepped inside. "Why are you not in your chair?" she demanded.
"What the! Hey!" Willard grabbed his boxers and held them up in front of his naked body. "I'm naked here!"
"I can see that," Choi said without a hint of embarrassment, interest or humor. "And you'll be naked and dead if you don't get in that chair."
"I know…I know. It's just—"
Choi stepped forward and reached out for Willard.
"What are you doing?" he asked in surprise.
Choi's hands came to rest on Willard temples. "Helping you relax," she said, standing intimately close to Willard's naked body.
Willard looked down and noticed two things—how close Choi was standing to him, and how attractive she looked her tight grey jumpsuit.
"Close your eyes," Choi said in a soft, almost seductive voice.
Willard closed his eyes and couldn't help but smile. His first experience in space was going well and getting better.
"Breathe deep," Choi said. "Listen to the sound of my voice."
Willard couldn't take his mind off the sound of her voice. All his worries and fears were disappearing and being quickly replaced by more primal thoughts. He felt Choi's hands rest gently on his naked shoulder. She squeezed him gently.
"Now then," she said, "there is only one thing left to do."
Willard raised his eyebrows, his smile expanding.
Choi leaned forward and put her lips next to Willard's left ear. "Sweet dreams," she whispered.
Willard felt the pressure on his shoulders intensify for just a second and then felt his body falling backward, pushed by Choi. A cold surface broke Willard's fall and he opened his eyes. Choi was standing above him, smiling slightly.
Willard looked confused. "You smile?"
Choi glanced down and Willard followed her eyes to his lap, which was already covered by liquid metal.
He was sitting in the chair.
Choi stepped forward, put her hand on Willard's forehead and held him back in the chair. He began to complain, but the liquid metal covered his mouth before he had the chance. She turned and left Willard encased in his liquid metal cocoon.
* * * * *
Twenty-five minutes after the crew had departed the space elevator and Choi confirmed the crew's readiness, the ship's auto pilot took over. Docking clamps released. The massive ship, which looked like a cross between a Navy Destroyer and a Bullet Train with massive amounts of shielding on the front and rear, drifted away from the elevator until it had put a few miles between the two.
A small hatch at the back of the ship opened, jettisoning what was essentially a nuclear warhead. A burst of light that looked like a distant star going super nova exploded from the backside. It was bright enough for Nancy Heintz to see from the rooftop greenhouse atop the GEC headquarters.
When the light had disappeared from the blue sky above, Nancy's phone rang. She held the phone to her ear and listened. "Surveyor is successfully away, ma'am."
"Thank you," she said and then hung up.
Immediately, the phone rang again. Nancy looked at the small display screen that revealed who it was calling. She read the name and answered immediately.
"Mr. President," she said and then listened. "Thank you…yes sir…thank you. I'm sure it will too."
Nancy began to pace. "No sir. No. I wouldn't worry about that yet. Yes, sir, I'm positive that this mission will go smoothly. Our technology is state of the art and if anything should go wrong, the crew is well trained and can handle it…yes sir. Thank you again, sir."
With that, Nancy hung up the phone and turned it off.
"Nothing will go wrong," she said to herself, and then repeated it in her head like a mantra.
But she wasn't entirely convinced.
EUROPA
CHAPTER 7 -- ORBIT
The view from the surface of Europa had been the same for millions of years. Jupiter always dominated the sky, its yellow, orange and red gases swirling constantly, propelled by storms the size of other planets. Alongside mother Jupiter were the sister moons, Io, Ganymede and Callisto, which glowed dully in orbit alongside Europa, whose icy surface shone brightest of all—unique among her sisters.
But a new spectacle, one never seen from the surface of the ice moon before, arrived with a flash. Like a streak of lightning it burst into the night sky—something foreign arrived. It came from the inner solar system and stopped above the moon, hovering in orbit. For ten minutes it slowly circled the ice orb; its presence revealed by the sun reflecting brightly off its shiny exterior.
A few other objects had arrived in years past, but none so brilliantly or quickly. This was new, larger, more threatening than the others.
And its arrival didn't go unnoticed.
* * * * *
The Surveyor's cameras began recording images. Photos of the jagged ice surface, which was brilliant white mixed with smatterings of light blue. Tall peaks of mountainous ice rose toward space. Deep, round depressions sunk down to a perfectly smooth covering, apparently where an asteroid had long ago hit the ice and broke through to the ocean and refroze. It was one of the first hints mankind found as to the possibility of an ocean beneath the frozen surface.
In stark contrast to the brilliant ice were thousands of crimson cracks etched into the surface of the moon as though by a giant laser. The coloration varied slightly from line to line, some maroon, some ruby, some the color of cherries, but all red. Most scientists still held to the theory that these lines were sediment that rose to the surface, pushed upward by tidal flexing caused by the gravitational pull of Jupiter, or asteroid impacts, or thermal venting. Maybe all three. While mode of transport was still debated, all agreed the markings were massive sediment-filled cracks—but this was all best guesses—speculation. It was one of Europa's secrets the crew hoped to uncover.
The cameras shot several thousand photos, saving each image in the Surveyor's databanks. They'd be used to help determine the best landing zone for the crew and the ideal location for TES to melt through the ice.
Inside the ship, systems were coming online one by one. A single screen in the control center blinked to life. Text scrolled across its screen.
Destination reached...
Life support systems engaged...
Gravity engaged...
Status check in 3...2...1...
Optimal atmosphere...
Optimal pressure...
Optimal gravity...
All systems functional...
Deactivation of impact chairs in 3...2...1...
* * * * *
The silver skin of the lone impact chair began to move as the occupant regained consciousness. Its metallic surface warmed and thinned. The shape of a hand stretched out, pulling the liquid metal. With a sudden burst the hand was free.
Grasping the arm of the chair, the hand flexed and pulled. A face began to form at the top of the chair as the person trapped inside pulled himself free. The metal stretched and turned whitish-grey as it thinned, and then snapped. The tear spread down the surface of the chair. The occupant plunged forward and spilled onto the floor.
Still clinging to his boxers, Willard lay on the floor, shivering and covered in slime. His teeth chattered as he squinted his eyes against the sun-like lights recessed into the ceiling of his quarters.
Willard let out a light groan as he
stood to his feet, careful not to slip and fall. He rolled his head on his neck and scanned his quarters. The room was identical to the one he'd had during training. Not much for hominess, but it got the job done. The bed was firm and small, but comfortable. The living space was cramped by American standards, spacious by Japanese, but provided enough room to do pushups and crunches.
Willard turned his attention to the small bathroom. Like everything else, it was small, but functional. The water pressure, at least on earth, had been superb and the hot water was instant and relaxing. Willard thought it was strange that as he thought about the hot shower, his mouth began to water. It was then, he realized, that he was extremely hungry.
But food would have to wait. The slime coating, which was beginning to chill his extremities needed to be washed away. Willard stepped into the small bathroom, dropped his boxers into the sink and slid into the shower. He rested his head on the shower stall wall and sighed.
Reaching down, Willard took hold of the shower knob and turned on just the hot. There was a pause as air was noisily forced from the unused pipes. Willard rolled his eyes and thought about the shower in his Moab, Utah apartment. He'd stayed in Moab for two years, working at a gas station and mountain biking on the weekends. That was the beginning of his love for all things extreme, but no one else in Utah was—
His mind cleared with the realization that he was awake. And that meant he was in orbit around Europa, a moon of Jupiter—in space!
He was about to let out a victory cheer when the telltale pops and gurgling noises of approaching water caught his attention. It burst from the shower head and coated Willard's body.
BENEATH - A Novel Page 7
