by James Cooke
‘Emmanuel, thank you. Now if you don’t mind, please close the door on your way out,’ he ordered, his eyes still fixed on Rodriguez.
‘Mr Rodriguez, you stay here,’ he said, in a stern tone.
There was something about Rodriguez that Captain Gustav didn’t particularly like. It annoyed him infuriatingly, as he couldn’t exactly put a finger on it. It was just a bad gut feeling he had about the man. Rodriguez had been posted onto his ship by the parent company, in strange and mysterious circumstances, and yet he hadn’t been afforded the usual opportunity to vet his crew beforehand. Rodriguez soon came across as having a superior attitude, which hadn’t gone unnoticed by the other members of the crew. Captain Gustav took the headset and operated the radio.
‘Captain Emilio Gustav, MS Berge Vanga. To whom am I speaking with, over?’
There was a slight pause and crackle before the response came back.
‘Ah Captain, glad to see that you’ve arrived safely. I gather it’s been pretty rough out there?’
Gustav didn’t reply but waited. There was an awkward pause.
Gustav scowled at Rodriguez. Suddenly the radio barked back into life.
‘Captain Gustav, this is First Lieutenant Trent of the US Navy. Please listen very carefully.
I’m acting on the orders of the President of the United States. Within the next six hours, we shall be delivering a package to you via the station helicopter here at the base. I intend to come aboard at zero seven thirty hours in advance to oversee the delivery. Captain, please understand this has the highest security clearance possible from your company, so please, do feel free to check with them if you want to. Over,’ said Lieutenant Trent, with a hint of arrogance.
Captain Gustav scoffed but nevertheless replied quickly.
‘Very well Lieutenant, I shall do just that. In the meantime, we shall be ready for you, over.’
Captain Gustav remained seated, deep in thought.
‘What the hell are they up to Rodriguez? I don’t like the sound of this one bit.’
When Gustav opened the communications room door, he found Cortez and Emmanuel loitering just outside. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that they had probably been trying to eavesdrop.
Captain Gustav stood hands on hips and regarded them with squinted eyes and a raised eyebrow.
‘Cortez, why are you still here? Get back to work. Emmanuel, contact the company as a matter of urgency, get the President out of bed if you have to, then patch him through to me on the bridge, understood?’
‘Captain, do you think that’s really necessary? After all, this American said it was top secret,’ Rodriguez said.
Captain Gustav threw daggers at Rodriguez.
‘Get this into your head Mr Rodriguez, I don’t know exactly where you’ve come from but let me tell you one thing, around here it is me, the Captain of this ship, who is paid to make these fucking decisions, and I don’t need you questioning them, is that perfectly clear?’
Emmanuel was taken aback by the Captain’s sudden abruptness but seized the opportunity to pour salt on the wound he had inflicted on Rodriguez.
‘Yes Captain, I understand, perfectly,’ Emmanuel replied with a sly grin and then sat back down and operated the ships new state of the art satellite telephone to reach the President of the Shipping Company. After going through several layers of authentication, he finally got through to the company President in São Paulo and was able to patch him through to the Bridge.
Shortly after midnight, President Alfonso Carlos of the Brazilian Norsal Shipping Company sat bolt upright up in bed when his bedside telephone rang. Fumbling for the handset in the dark, he groggily answered the phone and listened to the caller.
‘Very good, Captain Gustav, you have done the right thing by contacting me. However, my wife doesn’t think so. Go back to sleep, Maria; it’s just company business. Captain, please understand, it is indeed genuine; something our Government has arranged with the Americans. I don’t know the full reasons myself or else I would tell you. Now you have my orders; please do as they ask. And please, try not to ring again.’
‘Very well Mr President, I understand. I will allow this thing whatever it is, to be boarded and then set a course for the American base in Guam, where I assume, they’ll take delivery of it. Then, I shall resume our original course to deliver our cargo shipment to Japan.’
Captain Gustav wanted to make sure that he fully understood his orders and that the President of the company knew as well. If anything was to go wrong, he didn’t want to be the one left high and dry.
True to his word, First Lieutenant Trent arrived on board at zero seven thirty by motorboat, much to the interest of the Berge Vanga crew. He followed a crewman, sent to bring him to the bridge. Trent was a tall and thin man, with a gaunt face and neatly cut grey hair. He entered the bridge with a smirk. Captain Gustav maintained an expressionless face, shook Trent’s hand.
‘Welcome on-board Lieutenant. I have my orders from our company, President. It seems that everything is, how do you say, in order?’
‘Good, I like a thorough man.’
‘Just doing my job, Lieutenant, I’m sure you understand.’
‘Of course, we expect nothing less.’
‘So everything has been made ready for you. I have assumed you will accompany the package, so we’ve had a room prepared for you.’
‘Excellent Captain, your cooperation in this matter is very much appreciated. If you could have the rear cargo bay doors opened, we’ll bring the package across very shortly by helicopter and load it directly into the cargo bay.’
‘Helicopter? Just how big is this package, Lieutenant?’ Gustav asked, in a concerned tone of voice.
‘Captain, let me be perfectly clear. This cargo is the property of the US Government and is highly classified. Your crew are strictly forbidden to go anywhere near it, least of all for their own safety, is that perfectly understood?’
Captain Gustav, taken aback by Trent’s forthrightness, glanced across to Rodriguez, acting smug, like a hunter waiting for his prey to fall into a trap.
‘Of course, Lieutenant, but as Captain of this ship, I must insist on knowing exactly what it is that we are carrying. I will not risk the safety of my crew, or the ship come to that.’ Captain Gustav retorted.
Trent inspected the floor and shook his head. He made a point of inhaling forcibly.
‘I’m sorry, Captain but, as I said, this consignment is classified by the US Government. Please, don’t embarrass yourself any further. I strongly advise you to follow your orders and get to Guam as soon as possible,’ Lieutenant Trent replied before adding, ‘and Captain, thank you, but a room won’t be necessary. Neither my men or I will be travelling with the cargo.’
“Travel with the cargo!” Not in a million years my friend, that would be far too risky.
Chapter 3
March 1st 2016.
Far out in the solar system, somewhere between Mars and Jupiter, an extra-terrestrial spaceship, crewed by four alien beings, was heading on a direct course for Earth. Its shape was odd in that it consisted of eight spheres, interconnected such that its vertices formed a cuboid shape. There were no visible windows, and the only illumination came from some red and green lights. In the dim light of the sun, its surface revealed itself to be covered in a mosaic of hexagonal shaped tiles.
The mission of its crew was to travel to earth and find out if a previous terra-forming expedition had arrived or not; and if it had, ascertain if they were successful or not in activating a payload called a Kel-Taire. This alien device was designed to destroy all life on earth. If for any reason they hadn’t achieved that objective, their mission was to plant another Kel-Taire, in the same location as previously planned, and ensure it was activated before they returned to their homeworld.
The spaceship had descended from near-light speed upon entering the solar system and was now travelling at a mere half a million miles per hour. Just over four days later, it had reached Ea
rth’s outer atmosphere and had decelerated considerably to approximately five thousand miles per hour. Inside the spaceship, on what we would call the bridge, a perfect 3-D hologram of Earth was projected from the console. It was an accurate representation of the planet insofar as land mass and oceans were concerned, and it spun correctly on a North-South pole axis.
On the hologram, a red dot appeared somewhere in the ocean towards the South Pole, the Southern Indian Ocean. Extending from this dot was a superimposed trajectory that the spaceship would take to reach the landing spot. More importantly, the dot also represented the source of the homing beacon signal, that would have been left by the crew of the first terra-forming mission. It had taken almost twelve years for the signal to reach the spaceship’s crew’s planet, located in the planetary system of the star Tau Ceti.
The crew of four bore a loose resemblance to the human form in that they had a head, a torso, two legs and arms and were roughly the size of a ten-year-old human. They were pale grey and hairless. The weirdest thing was the elongated heads that housed two large, dark-coloured eyes, almost black like those of a great white shark. They had two small holes above their mouths, which were thin and wide. They were clothed in something which looked like copper chain mail.
One of the aliens gestured to the other three crew members, pointing at the red dot, without making a sound. Another alien pointed to several white dots that now appeared on the Earth hologram, at roughly the same altitude as their spaceship. When their spaceship entered the upper atmosphere over the North Pole, several lights flashed up on the console beneath the hologram. Then a curved holographic screen several meters wide formed behind the hologram. In the central area of the screen, an image slowly appeared over a curved graduated atmosphere, which was coloured black to blue. The image of one of the white dots grew larger, and the aliens became agitated, gesticulating to each other. However, they were confident that whatever it was, it wasn't a threat to them, or so their sensors would have them believe.
*
No one knew why Chuck Falmer had decided to locate his heavy haulage trucking business: Lyreco’s, in such a remote location. Whatever it was, he took his secret with him to the grave forty years ago. The only saving grace was the one and only drinking hole in the tiny settlement of Lupin; the Acapulco bar. Located sixty miles south of the Lupin gold mine, at latitude sixty-six degrees north, in the Canadian Nunavik territory. It was a grim and desolate collection of mostly timber buildings, with just one road, in and out. At ten a:m, the sun had not long crept above the horizon. It provided a psychological boost to the otherwise frigid conditions. Standing around outside the Lyreco haulage depot, on the north side of town while waiting for the foreman to surface, wasn’t conducive to avoiding hypothermia. The truck drivers hated foreman Kadowski’s laissez-faire attitude towards their wellbeing. It was minus five degrees Fahrenheit for Christ sake, and idling around on the crisp, and crunchy snow for ten minutes wasn’t a great idea.
Brian stood chatting with the other truck drivers while waiting for his next instructions. You had to keep the body moving, however possible if you were to keep the cold from sucking the life force out of your body. That typically entailed walking on the spot and carrying out various arm flapping movements. Between those waiting, cursing Kadowski was the main topic of conversation. One of the new drivers, Jill Renton, the only female driver in the team, saw Brian and saddled up next to him.
‘Hi, it’s Brian, isn’t it?’ Jill asked.
‘Hi, yeah that’s me. You’re new, aren’t you? Kinda noticed you a few weeks ago.’
‘That’s, right, I’m Jill, by the way, Jill Renton.’
‘Well, nice to meet you, Jill.’
‘Thanks, you too. So, I see it’s another lovely day in paradise, as they say,’ she said, smiling sweetly, her immaculate teeth, whiter than white, dazzled.
For a truck driver, Jill stood out distinctly in an otherwise mostly male-dominated workforce, there just weren’t that many female drivers around, especially black ones. Brian imagined she could have easily been a fashion model if she had chosen a different profession. Brian caught the unmistakable smell of expensive perfume. For a brief second, he thought of Joanne. It was similar to what she would have worn if she were still alive, she always did have expensive tastes. Sophisticated lady, even out here, I like that.
‘Yeah, ain't it just,’ Brian replied smiling, and added, ‘Fricking typical though, why can’t the useless cretin be more organised, keeping us waiting outside like this, I mean what does he think we are, fricking penguins?’
Jill laughed, a tear ran down her cheek.
Jill beckoned Brian to lend her his ear, and when she was a few inches away, said in a hushed tone, ‘They reckon he does it on purpose, that’s what Robert, our scheduler more or less said to me last week.’
Brian felt her hot breath, it smelt quite nice if he was honest. He gazed into her eyes and saw that she had delicate chestnut swirls of blue intermingled with the bright olive-green iris’. They suited her flawless complexion. When she fluttered her eyelids back at Brian, a nice shiver ran through his body. He tried to think of something witty to say, ‘Exactly, that’s what I heard too. Can I ask you -,’ was the best he could manage before the depot door suddenly creaked open, and Kadowski lumbered out, notebook in hand, ready address his troops. After making a half-hearted apology for keeping them waiting, Kadowski ran through the day's shipments driver by driver. Eventually, he got around to Brian. He shouted out in his usual eloquent style, ‘Hopper, Brian Hopper. Where the fuck are you? Canuck squatch,’ he said, muttering the last remark under his breath.
Brian’s nostrils flared white, and he gritted his teeth. Jill grasped his arm ‘Brian, no, leave it, he’s not worth it. Believe me,’ Jill said, gazing doe-eyed at Brian.
Brain nodded, ‘Yeah, I guess you’re right, thanks, Jill.’ He then faced Kadowski and shouted back, ‘Over here. You need to get your fucking eyes tested Kadowski. Polack cretin,’ he added, loud enough so that everyone around him could hear. Everyone laughed. Kadowski didn’t take long to get the message before he raised his hand.
‘Okay okay let’s all just shut the fuck up. There you are, Hopper. Yeah okay, seems you did reasonably well, on time and in one piece, which is more than I can say for some of you other jerks,’ Kadowski mocked. It was if he had to have the last dig at the men, Brian put it down to an inferiority complex. A few years back, Kadowski was making his first run since obtaining his licence. On his first day, he had ignored the advice of several other truck drivers not to take a particular route, and he crashed through an ice-covered lake and lost the entire cargo of half a million dollars’ worth of mining equipment. He was lucky to end up with a desk job.
Kadowski handed Brian the next job ticket, a standard run up north to the Lupin gold mine to deliver the next piece of industrial mining equipment. ‘That’s it for today, move it.’ Kadowski said, closing his notebook before heading back inside. But it wasn’t quite it, Jill frowned mouth open, ‘Hey Kadowski, what about me, what am supposed to be doing?’
Kadowski hesitated, turned around, ‘Renton, ah yeah, sorry I must have forgotten. I’m afraid your load has been delayed, another twenty-four hours. Come back here, same time tomorrow.’
‘Shit, that’s just great. Just what I need, hanging around this fucking dump.’
‘Hey sorry, it’s outta my control, you should know that by now.’
Kadowski left it at that and went inside. ‘Sorry Jill, that’s a real bummer. What are you going to do?’ Brian asked.
Jill sighed, a large plume of condensed breath shot out like a dragon’s flame.
‘Not a lot to do in a shit hole like this, apart from staying warm. I guess I’ll hang around in the Acapulco for a while.’
Brian nodded agreeably, feeling genuinely sorry for Jill’s lousy luck.
‘Yeah sorry about that. Well, the least I can do is give you a ride up to the Acapulco?’
Jill smiled back, ‘Th
at’d be really sweet, Brian, thank you.’
A few minutes later, Brian’s eighteen-wheeler pulled up across the road from the Acapulco. Outside the bar, the neon palm tree and cocktail glass were switched on, and the yellow light from within, flooded out of the windows onto a blue tinted snow-covered road.
‘Well, here we are. Looks like they’re open.’ Brian said, glancing at Jill, who was making sure she had everything in her bag.
‘I really appreciate this, Brian. It’s really kind of you.’
‘Ah, no problem at all, makes sense seeing as I’m headed up that way.’
Jill smiled again, and hesitated before asking, ‘Brian, would you do something for me please?’
Brian squinted slightly, ‘Sure, what you got in mind?’
‘I’d like you to accompany me inside, have a quick drink at the bar, and kinda act as if you’re with me if you know what I mean.’
It wasn’t quite what he expected, and he felt unsure how to respond. He wasn’t use to such a come on if that’s what it was. He’d only ever been in one relationship, with his childhood sweetheart Joanne, and since she died last year, he hadn’t even though about women. Looking after his daughter Megan was all that he was interested in.
Jill opened her eyes wider, waiting for an answer.
‘Yeah okay, but why?’
‘Oh, thanks, Brian. It’s just that I don’t want to give the wrong impression when I go inside, you know, single unattached female, all on her own, you know what I mean; I don’t need the hassle.’
The penny dropped, Brian felt slightly dumb for not thinking what it was like. ‘I get it, I know exactly what you mean. But yeah, sure, it’s nearly lunchtime anyway, I could use a drink.’
Brian jumped out of the truck and went around to open the door for Jill, who climbed down backwards. His eyes automatically focussed on her ass, which he thought wiggled more than it should have done, not that he was complaining. Another pleasant tingle coursed through him.
