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The Solar Sea

Page 21

by David Lee Summers


  "How's the honeymoon going?” asked Myra.

  "Stressful to start. Interesting and kind of fun now. The lack of gravity is a little bit of a bonus.” Lisa's cheeks colored a little.

  "I can't tell you how happy I am for you.” Myra took Lisa's hand. “Have you given any thought to what you're going to do when we get back to Earth?"

  "Neb and I talked a little before we got to Saturn.” She shrugged. “We haven't had much of a chance to think about it since then. Things have been so busy."

  "I've been chatting back and forth with Cristof and Harmer. We've been talking about the Titans and what they said about the whales.” Myra looked around at the monitors lining the walls, then down at the communications board. “We humans have been sending radio and television signals into space for close to two centuries now. When we were down on Titan, we saw just the briefest glimpse of the communications technology they possess. There's not one scrap of doubt in my mind the Titans have received every signal we've sent into space. However, they choose to listen to the whales. I think it's time we learned what the whales have to say. We're going to start a foundation and try to establish a real dialogue. We'll need all the help we can get and we'd love to have you and Neb work for us."

  "You can count on me for sure, boss,” said Lisa with a smile, “and I'm pretty sure I can talk Neb into joining us."

  Before Myra could say anything, a light flashed on the communication's console. She reached over and answered the incoming signal. When she saw who was uploading a message, she turned around and faced Natalie Freeman who sat at the command console. “Captain Freeman, it's the president of the United States."

  "Alert Captain Jefferson,” ordered Freeman. “Have him come up here. Put the president on the command monitor as soon as the entire message is in."

  * * * *

  Jonathan Jefferson drifted into C-and-C just as Oscar Van der Wald's face appeared on the monitor in front of Natalie. He pushed off the wall and grabbed onto the edge of the command console. “Crew of the Aristarchus, I gather communication is not real time yet, but will be sooner than I dreamed possible. It's hard to describe the scene here on Earth. There's jubilation mixed with fear. Some can't wait for the Red-dy-chee-ans,” he stumbled over the word, “others are fearful. I gather you have news feeds, so I'm sure you've seen the protests, the riots, and the parades, too. I've never seen anything like it.

  "We're preparing a reception for the Red-dy-chee-ans at the United Nations in New York. In your report, you said that Captain Alepex wanted to keep contact brief. We will do that. However, we do want to thank him and his crew for saving the Aristarchus and show him human hospitality. Also, we feel the best way to prevent a worldwide uprising is to have this meeting be as multilateral as possible with as many heads of state present. We have requested that they keep their addresses as brief as possible."

  "Alepex is just gonna love that,” said Jefferson. On the trip back to Earth, he and the Rd'dyggian captain had become acquainted and found they were kindred spirits in many ways. Alepex had seen many years in space and looked forward to a quiet retirement on his home planet. Jefferson let his gaze drift around the C-and-C and thought he was very glad to have made the voyage, but he'd come close enough to death this time around. It was time to settle down. The only problem was he wasn't sure what he would do.

  Natalie Freeman broke his reverie. “I'll leave you to send the official response.” She unbuckled her harness and drifted away from the console.

  "Huh, what?” Jefferson looked around and realized the president had finished speaking. He pulled himself into the chair and asked Myra to replay the message while he tried to think of a response. “I'm getting too old for this,” he muttered to himself.

  * * * *

  Natalie Freeman drifted into her quarters and strapped herself into a chair. As she suspected, there was a sub-carrier message from the president tacked onto the main message. She played it. At the end of the message, her jaw dropped open. She played it again and shook her head. “He can't do this."

  She sent her response. An hour later, the president sent a reply. “Your orders stand, Captain Freeman."

  * * * *

  Jonathan Jefferson was just drifting off to sleep when Myra's voice sounded from the intercom. “Captain, I've just monitored a transmission from Quinn Corp on Earth. Do you want me to send it down there?"

  "Yes, please do.” He flicked on the light.

  Jefferson inclined his head when a man's face appeared on his viewer. He looked remarkably like Pilot only he wore a business suit and was older and heavier. “Mr. Jefferson, my name is Jerome Quinn. I understand you left a position at Martin-Intelsoft to become captain of the Aristarchus. Though I suspect that Martin would love to have you back, we've recently found an opening for an engineer of your talents and experience. When you get within range, please call my office and we'll set up a meeting."

  Captain Jefferson sighed and replaced the transmission from Earth with the movie from Jupiter. He froze the image at one particularly stunning view of the clouds and smiled, thinking that would make a good picture to adorn the wall of a cubicle.

  * * * *

  Natalie Freeman knocked on Pilot's door. She thought she heard a muffled “come in” from within. She opened the door and went inside. Thomas Quinn floated in a lotus position a few inches above his bed. There was a deep frown etched on his face. “I'm sorry,” he said, sadly. “I shouldn't have put the ship in danger."

  "I'm glad to hear that you're sorry.” Natalie drifted into the room. “I wish we would have stuck to the original plan. We could have been back out here in only a couple of years. You need to learn patience."

  "I know.” Pilot's voice was barely above a whisper. He turned and looked at Natalie. “How much trouble am I in?"

  "If Jonathan Jefferson had his way, you'd be skinned alive,” she said, frankly. “However, the president and I have a different view. Your father's the owner of this ship, therefore you're entitled to some slack as far as maritime—and space—law is concerned."

  "Okay,” said Pilot, slowly. “So, what does that mean?"

  "The president tells me that your father had very mixed feelings when he figured out that his number one employee was really his son hiding behind a persona. He's disappointed that you would resort to trickery, but impressed that you could pull it off."

  "My father told me he thinks I need the discipline of the military,” said Pilot nodding.

  "And the president told me I'm the one to give you that discipline.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You are to come and work for NASA. Rodasa said you're closer than you know to working out what the chronotons can do for humans. You will be working for me when you figure it out."

  "My father agreed to that?” asked Pilot.

  "It would seem your father gave a very substantial campaign contribution to the president to make that happen. I gather Quinn Corp will, in exchange, get certain patent and trading rights. They're already referring to the chronotons as Quinnium."

  "You don't seem too happy about that,” said Quinn. He looked away. “I can't say as I blame you after what I did."

  "Mr. Quinn, after you work for me for a few months, you may wish I threw you in jail, but I agree with the president about one thing. It would be a waste to lock you up."

  "What about the others?” asked Pilot. “What about Berko, LaRue, Rodriguez, and Chung? What happens to them?"

  "The Rd'dyggians needed technical help when they grappled onto the ship. I convinced the captain to rescind his order to confine them to quarters. They've been back to work for the last two days. They can either work for us, or I suspect your father will keep them on if they choose not to."

  "Good.” Pilot looked down at his hands. “They're good people. They only wanted to help me see the mission succeed."

  "They're not the only ones.” Natalie reached out and touched Pilot's shoulder. “Your mission was fine, whether it was to build a solar sail for its own sake or
to seek out the chronotons. The problem was that you put the mission above everyone, including your friends."

  Pilot nodded, understanding.

  "I'll keep a watch on you from now on,” continued Natalie. “You see, I expect you to figure out the chronotons and I expect you to build me a bigger and better ship for the return to Titan. I don't accept what our ‘game keeper’ called us. We humans are not primitive, and I'm going to work you day and night until you help me prove that, mister. The stars are our destiny. Are you with me?"

  Thomas Quinn reached out and shook Natalie Freeman's hand. “We will sail the solar sea again, I promise."

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  About the Author

  David Lee Summers is an author, editor and astronomer living somewhere between the western and final frontiers in Southern New Mexico. His other novels are The Pirates of Sufiro, Children of the Old Stars, Heirs of the New Earth and Vampires of the Scarlet Order. His short stories and poems have appeared in such magazines as Realms of Fantasy, Cemetery Dance, Star*Line, The Martian Wave, and The Santa Clara Review. David is also the founding editor of Tales of the Talisman Magazine. When he's not writing, David is paving the way for ships like the Aristarchus, by operating telescopes at Kitt Peak National Observatory in Arizona.

  Learn more about David and his writing at www.davidleesummers.com.

  * * *

  Visit www.lachesispublishing.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.

  Table of Contents

  Other Books by

  WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING ABOUT

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  About the Author

 

 

 


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