by Ted Iverson
“Yeah, I haven’t looked at it.”
“Alec sent you something very important. We were hoping that you and Orion could’ve both looked at it, but for now, it’s all you. Look at it as soon as you get settled in on Luna.”
“No problem, guys. It’ll be the first thing I do.”
“If you hear anything, even a pin drop, you contact us. You got that?”
“Oh boy, do I! Zach out.” The images faded and Zach let out a huge sigh of relief.
Ty turned to Alec. “We’d better get that report and see what English came up with. As long as I’ve known him, he’s rarely been wrong.”
“You sound like you have a lot of faith in him.”
“As much as I had in Dad,” Ty said matter-of-factly.
“Alright, let’s go get that report. I’m going to contact Aunt Peggy first.”
As it had from time to time during the flight, the ship shuddered. But this time, it felt different. Orion stiffened, then his body slumped forward as the front retros lit. It felt as if they’d hit a brick wall. The safety straps dug into his shoulders and waist. When the retros stopped firing, he slammed back into his seat. He was out of breath. It felt as if someone had just belted him in the stomach with a steel beam. Even his vision was blurred.
Wasn’t that pleasant? he thought.
As the ship slowed, his eyesight cleared and he saw something in the distance. He couldn’t yet make out exactly what it was, but he had a good idea.
The forward thrusters ignited for three short bursts, slowing the ship a little more. Orion could see the object much better now. It was a large structure, obviously a space station of some sort. His heart skipped a beat. This had to be a huge part of what they were looking for. He quickly calculated that his current trajectory would take him over the top of the station.
As the ship closed in at an ever-slowing pace, Orion could make out more and more of the massive structure’s features. Its shape reminded him of a tuning fork, the body shorter than the two forked arms. He couldn’t be sure, but the body looked to be about five or six hundred yards long, and the forks considerably longer, maybe eight or nine hundred yards. The end of the base was a large sphere, its top half a dome with arches meeting at the center. Looking closer, he could see there wasn’t just one level to the station; there were three altogether. As the ship moved over the top of the dome, he could see green inside. It reminded him of the Hydroponics Dome back at Space Tech’s station. But what stood out to him about this dome was that he couldn’t see any sign of casings, glass or otherwise, over the top of it.
The ship dipped again and crept between the long forks on the top level. Scores of windows, some lighted and some not, lined the sides of the entire length. Again, no sign of glass could be detected. After overshooting the station a fair distance, the ship’s yoke moved forward and down. The rudder moved right, taking the ship into a right turn. Then, with the rudder shifting left and leveling out, the ship went into a turn that would bring it around toward the front of the station.
As his ship came around, Orion could see that tall columns were built between each level. No doubt, there were lifts in some. As he coasted to the second level now, he passed through what appeared to be the remains of scaffolding, steel beams, and particles of ice. The debris bounced harmlessly off the hull of his ship, with scrapping thuds and clunks. The ice particles reminded him of all the launches he‘d seen of NASA’s shuttle.
There were minimal windows on this second level, but there were many small circular marks along its surface, which Orion thought could be hatchways.
His mind was working overtime. This could’ve been a port, he thought. The sheer immensity of the thing was staggering. He could estimate the height of each level now: about ten stories high, based on the number of windows. The last thing that caught his eye was a large long hose that seemed to dangle from the structure. He’d seen that design before, back at the Orbital Lab.
The ship, barely moving now, angled down again as it came to the point where the forks met the body. Even now, at the lowest level, Orion could see a bulge in its belly. It looked like two U’s joined together, but the front of each looked as though it was open to the vacuum of space.
On his approach Orion saw what appeared to be docking bays. Then, he saw a quick flash. He could’ve sworn it was a crackle of energy moving across the front of the left bay. His ship slid silently in. The front retros fired one last time, and the ship came to a stop inside. Four retros fired from his ship’s wings.
With a jarring thud, he landed on the bay’s deck. He heard a strong electrical noise, followed by a loud roaring that could’ve been mistaken for a tornado. Then all was quiet.
Completely awestruck, Orion had failed to look at his radar screen. Had he done so, he might’ve noticed the little blip that was traveling directly beside him. If he’d even turned to the right once, he might have had a chance of seeing the other ship slide into the right-hand bay simultaneously with his ship. His excitement, though, had prevented him from being cautious. His inattention could prove to be a big mistake.
Having held his breath, as if waiting for the worst to happen, Orion now exhaled. Disbelief washed over his body as he looked out and saw it on the bulkhead in front of him. He couldn’t hold back his tears any longer. He rubbed his eyes dry with his sleeve, then closed them for a moment. A few seconds later he reopened them. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Yes, there it was—Space Tech’s crest. It couldn’t have been clearer: a grey shield with a blue compass star imposed on it. In black, above the compass, “Space Tech” was uniquely written, with the Greek sigma for the “s” in Space and the Greek tau for the “t” in Tech.
His next step was clear: it was time to find out where he was and what this new station was used for, though he felt confident he already knew the answer. He needed to be sure, though. Then, of course, he’d need to contact his brothers who must be worried sick about him. He unbuckled his harness, stood, then reached down on the cockpit panel and lifted a closed door. He touched a button and a small box automatically slid out as the screen came to life.
“Do we have breathable air?” he asked.
After coming all this way, he wanted to take no chance of dying as he opened the hatch. The bay didn’t look as though it had any way to keep out the vacuum of space. The little screen scrolled through a series of chemical formulas. It finally gave a small chirp and stopped on one formula:
N2 + O2 + Ar Trace amounts of Ne + He + CH4 + Kr + H2 + H2O vapor.
The computer then spat out another formula—
Above source: 6CO2 + 6H2O (+ light energy) C6H12O6 + 6O2
A computer-generated voice said, “Breathable air, comparable to that on the planet Earth. Source: photosynthesis.”
Orion was pleased. The dome his shuttle had flown over was a hydroponics plant and was still producing. He tapped the little computer once more and waited. It chirped and the numbers now read:
7.2222222 Celsius
Again the computer announced: “Outside temperature, forty-five degrees Fahrenheit.”
Chilly, he thought.
He tapped one last button on the small computer to shut it down, then reached down, disconnected a cable, and stuffed the computer into a pocket. Making his way to the back-storage area, he riffled through a supply closet and pulled out a jacket he’d found earlier in the trip, and slipped it on. He filled a small travel backpack with rations, a first-aid kit, and a few other items he thought he might need. Orion walked up to the hatch, then paused, placed his hand into the VGID, and waited for the hatch to open.
Alec and Ty sat in the library, each reading a copy of the report. The quiet was profound as they let Chris’s theory sink in. They browsed through the report a second time.
Alec was the first to speak: “Wow! If Chris is even half right, we’ve a lot to think about. I know we were both thinking this whole thing could be more than an accident and, you have to admit, Chris makes a good case for t
his to be a plausible scenario. Of course, we still have no physical evidence.” Switching gears he said, “Ty, you need to finish your letter to the OEC and submit it today. It’s obvious we can’t let next Monday’s meeting happen. Make it for two more weeks. One way or another, by then we’ll know which way to handle it.”
“Agreed. I remember Dad having a good relationship with Senator Fillmore. Fillmore is on the committee and I’d like to meet with him before I address the OEC. You know, get a feel for what the committee is thinking. I’ll try to meet with him the day before. I’ll call Emily and have her make the arrangements once I get confirmation of the change. There is one more thing we need to talk about. What about security at the Lab? If we have someone up there,” Ty gave a glance skyward, “who has compromised us, it’s a situation that must be dealt with swiftly.”
“I agree. I’ll contact Commander Pargon and discuss it with him, if that’s okay. You know, he may question my involvement, seeing as I’m not technically employed by the corporation.”
Ty laughed. “When I get to Space Tech today, I’ll send him a memo giving you authority to work with them on my behalf. Whatever you and he work out is fine. You know, Alec, we could create a very nice position for you.”
“Thanks, but, as always, I will respectfully decline.” Alec reached out and gave his brother a playful punch in the arm.
As he headed out the door, Ty said, “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
Alec thought about the events of the last week and how quickly time had gone by. He would need to call the precinct and fill in his superiors. He got the feeling that he wouldn’t be headed back to Chicago any time soon. Rolling his chair over to a small desk, he typed onto the keyboard in front of him. A secure line opened, and the image of a distinguished older man appeared through the static, “Hello, Ed.”
“Alec, good morning. I heard about Orion. How are you boys doing?”
“Surprisingly well. We think he’s alive. He’s pretty good at handling himself. I’m sure he’s fine.”
“I’m sure too. What can I do for you?”
“Ty’s going to reschedule the OEC meeting for two weeks from Monday. You know, maybe buy us some time, so to speak. Could you run some checks on a Senator Fillmore? Ty seems to recall that my father was a friend of his. I’d like to check into him. I’m worried we may have an issue with one or two individuals and we can’t be too careful.”
“That won’t be a problem. I am sorry to hear that someone may have turned on you. As for Fillmore, I’ll do my best to check into his background. If memory serves me, your father and the senator did have some meetings, so it is entirely possible he’s trustworthy.”
“That would be good news. I’ll be fairly busy the next week or so, I imagine. I’m sending you my secure PIN number so you can get in touch with me via my personal holopad. Oh! Ed, just a side note.”
“Yes?”
“I’ll be coming out a couple of days ahead of Ty, to help secure the area. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you again.”
“It will be good to see you too, Alec. I’ll contact you when I find anything.” With that the transmission faded.
Alec remained at his chair. He tapped the keyboard once more, this time readying himself to speak to Commander Pargon. The image crackled to life.
“Good to hear from you, Alec. I just received Ty’s memo, but you were already cleared before I got it. How can I help you?”
“Well, Commander, I believe we have a security issue we need to resolve...”
The hatch opened and Orion, holding his breath, stepped down onto the deck. Exhaling he took a small quick breath, as if it would save him if the air hadn’t been breathable. It was. A little stale smelling, but he wasn’t going to die here. At least, not yet, he thought.
He looked to his right at the great opening he’d passed through. It was an amazing sight. He could now see that there was, in fact, something transparent holding back the vacuum of space. He walked toward it. As he got within a couple feet of the entrance, the hair on his head stood on end. He stopped when he felt the intense static that appeared to have formed an enormous electric current.
Though he knew he shouldn’t go on, he let curiosity get the better of him. He looked all around for something loose and small. Not finding anything, he went through his pockets and dug out a coin.
He cocked his arm and threw the coin as hard as he could toward the open entrance. A split second later he found himself lying face down on the deck, both hands covering his head. He looked up after a few seconds and sighed relief. The coin had hit an invisible electric wall. The crackle of the coin didn’t bother him. What did was the intense speed at which the coin had careened back toward him. His reaction had been to hit the ground. Decided he was now safe, he got up and dusted himself off. He shook his head. Some sort of force field. Nice.
He spun around and sauntered past the ship, patting it as he walked by. “Thanks for getting me here safely.”
Orion made his way up the stairs and onto a platform about four feet wide and made of some type of steel mesh. He figured it to be about eight to ten feet off the ground. In the middle of the platform, he halted to stare at the corporate crest painted on the bulkhead. He put his right hand up and touched it. To him finding it was like finding the Holy Grail. As he gazed at the crest, the thought occurred to him that he had no idea if the station was inhabited or abandoned. It was time to find out.
Suddenly his heart leapt. Something cold was pressing against his neck. He’d just found the answer to the question.
“The ship, where did you get it?” a voice demanded.
Orion stood frozen. He would’ve answered, but he was finding he had no voice. He’d never had a weapon pointed at him before.
“I can wait as long as you’d like, but I’ve been known to have an itchy trigger finger.”
Orion closed his eyes and trying desperately to regain some calm. He cleared his throat and answered, “I won it. I won it in a card game.” Oh God, I didn’t just say that, did I? He was sure whoever was behind the weapon would shoot him just for throwing out that line. Heck, he thought, I should shoot myself.
The man broke into a chuckle. Lowering his weapon, he said, “Okay, Han, old buddy. You must be harmless to come up with that. Turn around and talk. Your name?” As the young man turned to face him, he brought the weapon back up and had it pointing at Orion’s chest.
The seriousness of the moment passed. “Stupid line, I know, but it was all I could think of. I’m Orion Bindl. I got the ship from Space Tech’s Orbital Lab. It belonged to my father.”
The man hesitated. Then, squinting in curiosity, he slowly holstered the weapon and extended a hand. “I’m Captain Lyet. Welcome to my home,” he said, motioning around the bay with his arms. “I can see the resemblance to your father now. You also have his sense of humor. I’m fortunate that you’ve arrived first.”
“Arrived first? There are others coming?”
“I believe the answer to that question to be ‘most likely.’ Exactly when, though, is anyone’s guess.” He looked at Orion’s forehead, reached up and touched the scab that had formed. Orion flinched. “Are you alright? It looks as if your flight may have been bumpy.”
“Somewhat turbulent, but otherwise just fine.” He smiled.
Lyet grabbed Orion’s forearm and led him across the platform to a hatch adjacent to the bay they were in. The captain used the VGID, the hatch opened, and they entered the next bay. Pointing, the man said, “We have like ships. One constructed here, the other at the Orbital Lab. Your father, he loved these ships. They weren’t his favorite, though, as you can guess. The StarDancer, now that was your father and mother’s favorite ship. Mine too.”
The whole time Captain Lyet was talking, Orion looked on in disbelief. He just couldn’t find any words to say.
Captain Lyet draped an arm around Orion’s shoulders. “We must find some fresh attire for you, and you must be hungry. We also have much to talk about.
You are about to see and hear things you may not be prepared to handle. You are about to enter a new era, you and your brothers that is. It was your father’s dream, but it is about to become your reality.”
Chapter Eleven
Sitting in the cafeteria with Captain Lyet was surreal. The cafeteria was large enough that several hundred people could dine there at once. The tables were clean and white, but the chairs were pale blue and looked as though they belonged in an office. The captain removed two precooked meals from one of the gigantic freezers and prepared them.
Though he’d not had a real meal in a few days, Orion was doing his best to eat with manners. “Captain,” he asked between bites, “where is everyone else?”
“Gone. They’ve left, per orders.”
“Orders? Whose orders? Yours?”
“No. And yes.”
“Well, sir. Yes or no, which would it be?”
“Finish your meal, and I’ll set you up in your quarters for the evening. Then, in the morning, I’ll tell you everything you’re waiting to hear. It will most likely be a bit long-winded, but with your parents gone, there are many things you and your brothers need to know.”
Orion finished his meal and rose from the table. “I need to contact my brothers,” he said. “I need to let them know I’m okay. They need to know what I’ve found.”
“I’d love to let you, but I can’t.”
“You can’t? Why not? You said that we all needed to know.”
“Let me rephrase that last statement. I can’t yet. You first need to be made aware of what’s going on, what’s at stake. You need to see this space post in its entirety before you contact them. We’ll have to be careful where we contact them too, as I fear that somehow the signal might be traced and we might be found sooner than is necessary. But please don’t worry too much. I have access to secure nets.”
