The Man Who Sold Mars

by K Anderson Yancy

  Kevin reached for a tongue sandwich. His favorite. “What about our treasury stock?”

  I finished chewing and swallowing some olives. “We have a substantial amount, but the interest we control in YSR is far from the majority. It’s controlling.”

  Gardner removed the top from a liverwurst sandwich and a corned beef and combined the two meaty halves. “We can fight an economic battle. We have enough treasury stock to retire the national debt of Europe. But we had to sell a lot to pay for all this and to replace what we lost with the governmental takeovers.”

  George speared a couple of olives with his fork. “As you know, we long ago settled the compensation proceedings with them, but their paying in installments, so we don’t have the true costs of that loss to help us defend against an immediate takeover threat. We do have our personal wealth. But if their determined to make a hostile takeover with access to the world’s capital markets, we could be in for a serious battle.”

  Joshua keyed his laptop. “You should be very worried. We’ve tracked large, unusual movements of YSR stock and it’s been going on for a while. It could just be a prudent investor.”

  Thinking and strategizing George said, “And it could be something worse a raider. It would be ironic after all the companies we took over against their will to have it done to us.”

  “True.” I said. “We’ve already started economic warfare. Manipulating our stocks value for rapid, extraordinary climbs to slow acquisition by requiring more capitol.”

  Joshua spoke a truth. “But, it’s not slowing the acquisition.”

  Selena’s Cell Phone rang. She glanced at it. “Excuse me, I have to answer this. It’s Catherine.” She did and spoke into it. “Hi.”

  On a commercial airliner in flight, Catherine and Patricia sat in their own little realm within first class, while Catherine holding her phone, talked with Selena, and Patricia chatted with some children her age.

  “Hi, they just told us, we’ll land in Cebu in 30 minutes.”

  “Great. I’ll see you soon. Someone will meet you the instant you leave the jet and bring you to us.”

  “Ok.—But, our luggage.”

  “I’ve got it covered. Don’t worry.”

  “OK.”

  Catherine saw Patricia watching her, excited, and bursting with the desire to speak with her mom. “Hold on please. Patricia wants to talk to you.”

  Catherine handed her the phone and watched the flight engineer hurried and stressed exit the cockpit.

  “Mom, I was online and saw some great places for diving. And I want to go to Manila and — oh the silversmith school in Baguio. The work they do there is amazing.”

  A high whining rumble rose from behind Patricia, coming from the rear of the jet. It was so high, it could be heard through the cell and we riveted our concerned attention on her.

  Selena asked Patricia, “What’s that?”

  Very concerned she said, “I don’t kno—“

  Black smoke billowed into the jet’s cabin and in an instant an orange prismatic fireball rumbled through it.

  Patricia screamed.

  Selena’s cell phone disconnected the call. And panicked, she attempted to dial.

  Soft I asked. “What’s wrong?”

  Selena didn’t answer. She was unable to reconnect with Catherine, reaching only her voice mail. Fearful she walked towards one of the large wall monitors. “Pull up Cebu air traffic.”

  We accessed it and saw a jet’s emergency beacon going off indicating longitude, latitude and what transitioned rapidly from altitude to depth.

  We all knew what it meant.

  Disbelieving, Selena walked closer to the screen. Believing, but not wanting to believe, Selena said. “This can’t be right.”

  She and the rest of us fell deathly silent and then with a scream, Selena acknowledged the answer we all dreaded. She continued crying hysterically and I took her in my arms.

  Kevin reached for a phone, “It’s me. Have security access Cebu Air Traffic Control. There’s been a crash. Get everything we have out there now for rescue operations.”

  Gardner picked up his cell and dialed, while Tot came to Selena, who was collapsing, to hold her in her arms along with me.

  Tearing soft to himself, Hemmingson said. “Rescue? More like diving and salvage.”

  29. Four Mistresses?

  The sun retreating behind us, a fleet of fast moving foil borne YSR patrol hydrofoils and hovercrafts streaked over the Pacific, as a Young Stellar Resources helicopter closed in on the helo deck of the lead hydrofoil and other YSR helicopters flash ahead, while I and the cadre exited.

  In what seemed an eternity, later, on the deck of the nearly stopped hydrofoil, in my arms and Tot’s, Selena cried hysterically, watching the jet’s crash site strewn over miles, disappearing over the horizon; a bobbing debris field of oil; jet fragments; clothing; luggage; . . . and mangled, fractured corpses that were once a jet, its passengers, and her loves.

  Helpless, sad friends – Tot, Hemmingson, George, Kevin, I and Gardner – looked on.

  Sharpshooters on our hydrofoil and other boats shot sharks rising to feed on the fragmented remains of the recently departed, in a futile effort to aid the rescue workers retrieving broken and charred bodies from the warm Pacific waters, as the red blood from the sharks drew more in a cycle of shooting and attraction.

  In the late evening, on the hydrofoil, I sat next to my bed, taking a break from reading to glance at Selena and teared, as sedated she cried in her sleep as she lay beside me.

  A soft, soft knock on my cabin door begged to be answered.

  And in a soft response I said, “Come in.”

  Tot gently walked in, stood behind me and wrapped her arms around me, leaving them draped around my neck. I kissed her on the arm, while she watched Selena and she too teared.

  With a soft voice she asked. “How is she?”

  “Not good. The doctor gave her a shot of something. She’ll be out for a while.”

  “It’s got to be hard losing two people you love that much at the same time.”

  “More than I hope you will ever know.”

  Tatyana looked at me and had a sudden epiphany about me, my life and my motivations, then in silence, mentally debated many heavy things.

  “Young man you have four mistresses in your life. And for you that’s three too many.”

  “Four?”

  “One who doesn’t want you or need you.”

  I thought who that might be. I realized it was a what. “Mars.”

  “Another, who doesn’t need you anymore.”

  I thought and realized that this mistress was also a thing. “YSR.”

  “One who doesn’t need you, but will always want you. And one who will always want you and always need you.”

  Sad, Tot kissed me on the top of my head, shedding a few tears on me as she did so.

  I could feel her heart break as did mine.

  “Be very good to her.”

  “Tot again kissed me on my head and left.”

  30. Through Her Eyes

  Selena, George, Tatyana, Hemmingson and his princesses, Kevin, Gardner, Sunny, I, and the remaining 43 members of The Group and others stood in mourning clothes on the deck of a large YSR hovercraft, as a Catholic priest said prayers and a vast squadron of YSR helicopters covered the sea with flowers.

  Later that day, within a massive hangar, in a lavish ceremony, Selena broke a magnum of champagne across the bow of The Mars Transit Vehicle destined to Mars, christening it The Patricia & Catherine Luce.

  As the day ended, Selena stood on my balcony, silently tearing, watching the sunset on the Pacific. Silent, and heartbroken with her loss—our loss, I stepped onto it behind her, watched her for a while, then walked up behind her and took her in my arms to watch the setting sun in the cool island breeze and hold my greatest treasure.

  And that night, feeling she was awake, I awoke, kissed her and took my love in my arms. Beyond sad, she snuggled against him
.

  I kissed her again. “Want to try another first?”

  Selena shook her head no.

  “When this happened to me, you were there for me. You’ve always been. You put your life on hold. I don’t know what I would have done. In my entire life, I have never been on a vacation except through you. I’m a peasant. If it wasn’t for you, my place would have been barren and filled with cave drawings of men hunting bison and saber tooth tigers, that I drew on the walls myself.”

  Selena gave a startled laugh that surprised her.

  “The first that I would like is to see all those remarkable places you’ve told me of with my eyes through the eyes of the woman I love.”

  Selena grinned with a smile mixed with sadness, lost and deep, deep love.

  And through her, I saw the wonders of the world through my wonder of the world: The grandeur of the Taj Mahl; The mysticism of the temples of Thailand and Tibet; The thrill of a ride down The Rapids of Borneo; The majesty of The Twin towers of Rangoon; From a helicopter the beauty of Africa’s Victoria’s Falls; on camels, The antiquity of the Pyramids of Egypt; On a sailboat the Amazon river; The frigid domain of the emperor penguins of the South Pole; On mules the vastness of the Grand Canyon; The great Symbols of American liberty, The Declaration of Independence and The Constitution of the United States ; The awe of the Lincoln Memorial and Supremacy of the Washington Monument; We listened to the sweet music of an orchestra in Copenhagen’s Tivoli garden; Dove and explored the wrecks of WWII ships off the coast of the Philippines; And finished by examining the excellent work of the students and teachers at the silversmith school in Baguio.

  31. No One Returns From A Siren’s Call

  My doorbell gave a muted ring and dressed, I bent over Selena and kissed her in her sleep. I then walked to my door and answered it, speaking in whispers so I wouldn’t wake her.

  “Come in.”

  Joshua entered and whispered, “How’s Selena?”

  “Doing well, considering.”

  We walked to a table and sat watching the sunset while we talked.

  Joshua spoke, without taking his eyes off the clouds. “Tomorrow will be dicey. The launch window will be very, very narrow. A typhoons moving in. Fast.”

  “I can see it in the clouds. They predict there’ll be three in succession, one on top of the other. A full month of storms. So much for never. Look at the clouds. They’re beautiful. It’s funny, how something so beautiful can be so . . .”

  “Tragic. How’s Selena?”

  We fell silent for a moment and then I spoke, “You never get over something like this, but she’s coping. Ready?”

  Joshua nodded his understanding. “The failsafe device is in place. They may make their move tomorrow. There’s a difficulty with — Hi Selena.”

  She stood in the doorway of the bedroom, her tears falling in silence. “Hi.”

  Joshua glanced at his watch. “It’s late and tomorrow’s a big day. I will leave you two alone.”

  Joshua rose and let himself out.

  “You’re leaving me.”

  “I’m going. I will never leave you.”

  “Then why?”

  I walked to my music center. “I’ve been listening to this song a lot while you sleep. It may be difficult for you too. But half of the answer’s in there. You already know the other half.”

  Still tearing she said, “Play it.”

  I turned on the system, touched a key, and The Rainbow Connection played, as I walked to Selena, then held her close to me and together swayed with the music from the song.

  “Why are there so many songs about rainbows

  And what’s on the other side?

  Who said that every wish would be heard and answered

  When wished on the morning star?

  What’s so amazing that keeps us stargazing?

  And what do we think we might see?

  Someday we’ll find it, the rainbow connection,

  The lovers, the dreamers and me.

  Have you been half asleep

  And have you heard voices?

  I’ve heard them calling my name.”

  Sad, Selena said. “You do and she did?

  “Yes.”

  And from the stereo came,

  “Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors?

  The voice might be one and the same.

  I’ve heard it too many times to ignore it.

  It’s something that I’m supposed to be.

  Someday we’ll find it, the rainbow connection,

  The lovers, the dreamers and me.”

  I kissed Selena and we looked at one another with undying love.

  She held me close and said, “No one returns from a sirens call.”

  “Ulysses did.”

  “That’s because he was bound.”

  “Then bind me.”

  We bound our love with another kiss.

  32. The Launch

  The next day in a mission prep room, Selena and I said goodbye with another long, loving kiss.

  Gardner, Tot, Joshua, Hemmingson and his princesses, George and Kevin said their goodbyes with tears, smiles handshakes, hugs and a kiss.

  And in a bittersweet moment, I prepared for my journey wanting to be here and there. With the assistance of launch personnel, I placed on my space suit.

  Done. I held my blue lapis urn, filigreed with gold, while I and launch personnel rode a gantry elevator to the Mars Transit vehicle The Patricia and Catherine Luce.

  Still holding my urn, I along with launch personnel entered the cocoon of the Transit vehicle, traveling along a walkway until coming to an airlock and entering the vehicle.

  I and my aids climbed through the launch vehicle to its bridge. There with their assistance, I sat lying on my back, horizontal to the world, at the ships helm. Once I was securely strapped in, they handed me my urn, which I locked securely in a nook in my chair designed for no other purpose, but to hold it.

  The launch personnel departed and alone I conducted systems checks with mission control personnel.

  Gardner, Tot, Joshua, Hemmingson and his princesses, George, and Kevin sat amongst the whirl of staff in the more than very busy mission control as the countdown continued.

  Alone, Selena stood looking very worried. Tot saw her, walked over and gave her a big comforting hug. “He’ll be all right.”

  Tot grinned at her and left for other duties.

  The flight controller announced, “Two minutes. Countdown at two minutes.”

  Locked in a ferocious mental debate, Selena looked at a console and saw video of me in the ship and the countdown running down, and then reached out to depress a switch. The countdown held at 1 minute 53 seconds.

  She depressed another and her voice was heard throughout the complex and in the bridge of the Mars Transit craft.

  “Stephen, as the chairman of the board and Chief Executive Officer, I am scrubbing this launch. You are not physically fit to for the mission. Davidson is being prepped and will replace you.”

  Soft, I said to her, “Selena—“

  “No. You are not going.”

  “Please, Selena.”

  Pleading with me to stay she said, “No.”

  Compassionate, understanding how she felt, George said. “Let him go Selena.”

  “No, I can’t.”

  With tenderness I said to her, “Selena, a typhoons moving in. We are losing our launch window.”

  “No.”

  “If we lose our launch window, we cannot do this for another year.”

  “No.”

  “Selena.”

  Tearing, she remained resolved. “Davidson’s on his way. He’ll be there soon.”

  “I won’t be here when he arrives.

  I rubbed away at the paint on the edge of the console before me until a small piece of tape was exposed and then unfurled it. I pulled at it and a large piece came away revealing a thin notebook’s length object embedded in the console. I pushed on it and the obje
ct came out to meet me and opened.

  Selena and the others puzzling over my actions stood and watched in silence.

  A pulsing right hand displayed on the objects screen summoning me. I placed my own right hand between my legs, twisted the spacesuit glove off and held my hand before the screen.

  I thought about a lot of things for a moment, said a silent prayer, made the sign of the cross, and touched the screen.

  Having cast my die, at that point, what would be would be. Resigned to my fate, whatever it was, I placed my space glove back on and laid my hand upon the lapis urn and closed my eyes.

  And in the Philippine night, in Mission Control a technician told them all what they suspected I might have done. “The countdown has reinitiated.”

  The Flight Controller shouted out a command. “Release locks or she’ll detonate on the pad.”

  A technician shouted back. “I’ve been trying. They’re stuck.”

  Joshua’s mind ablaze he shouted, “Damn!” and jumped to a console.

  It and the entire area in which he and other launch personnel sat went blank.

  A technician diagnosed the problem. “Virus!”

  “No! Software conflict.” Joshua bolted up and ran to another station.

  As he sprinted to it, the immediately surrounding area lost power. “Oh Noooooo! I’m too damn good at my job.”

  He looked around, did some mental computations, then ran to another console and pulled the technician out of his chair. “Sorry.”

  Joshua, frantic, keyed the console as areas throughout mission control continued coming down. Darkness encircled him, preparing to pounce as he prepared to strike a solo key. “Please God let this wok.”

  Propelled by my command less than two minutes prior, the rockets of the Mars transit vehicle lift package rumbled to life.

  And in the Mars Transit Vehicle, eyes still closed, gloved hand on the urn I was rocked by the rumbling engines as the display of my failsafe device winked out.