Forbidden The Stars (The Interstellar Age Book 1)

by Valmore Daniels

  “Yes, Director. Quite well, as a matter of fact. I have nothing but respect for you; I know you tried to do right by me. It is not your fault. I don’t blame you for my parents. I just wanted to let you know that. What I’m doing now is motivated by none of those things directly.

  “—Well, if I had never come in contact with Kinemet in the first place, none of us would be in this position today.”

  “So are you taking the ship hostage for some reason? I assume this is not just a joy ride.” The edge to Michael’s voice betrayed his conflicting emotions. It was as plain as the nose on his face that he was having a difficult time trying to come to grips with the fact that an adolescent had just stolen a multi-billion dollar space craft right out from under his watchful gaze.

  “No,” Alex confirmed. “This is no joy ride, I assure you. It’s a matter of survival.”

  “I see.” The Director put his hand over the microphone and started dispensing orders to the dozen people that had congregated around the DMR casement. Finally, he turned back to Alex.

  “You seem to know a lot about computer security, space travel, and this mission in particular.”

  “You’d be surprised what you can find on the mesh.”

  Cocking his head in a conciliatory gesture, Michael replied, “No, I wouldn’t be. But that still doesn’t explain how you obtained access to sensitive mission parameters. There are no hard copies, and the only electronic copy is stored on my portable.”

  “Do you remember the big splash about my clairvoyant ability, sir?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I never revealed the extent. It has waned somewhat, but—”

  “Somewhat?”

  “I don’t have my full capability, but the ability still exists. It is difficult, but from a room away, I can easily psychically peer over someone’s shoulder and see what they are reading on their portables.”

  “Oh.” Michael seemed to be trying to place exactly when and where Alex might have been in close enough proximity to perform the task he had just described, but the fact of the matter was that on Luna Station, the opportunities were abundant.

  “I apologize for putting you all in this position, but there are facts that I have that you don’t,” Alex said.

  “All right, then why don’t you fly that spacecraft back here and land it. I will ensure a team of specialists, including myself, gives you ample opportunity to present your facts to us.”

  “It’s not as simple as that, sir. You see, I’m dying. My bones cannot stand any more gravitational pressure. The very Earth has rejected me. It is the Kinemet, sir. None of your test pilots has ever been exposed to it when it is active in space. Only three people have that dubious distinction, and two of them, my parents, are dead as a result.

  “The Kinemet offers wonderful things to whoever accepts its embrace. A kind of far sight similar to clairvoyance, electrokinesis, eidetic imagery with no retroactive inhibition; all the skills necessary for light-speed flight. You’ve tried to compensate with redundant computer profiles and even put an untested pilot onboard to physically return power to the ship once the flight has terminated.

  “I assure you, Director, all these precautions will end in disaster. You do not yet comprehend the power of Kinemet. Compared with simple atomics, Kinemet is like trying to describe color to a blind man. My eyes have been opened by Kinemet, and I can’t tell you what I’ve seen.

  “I can guide others to the light of this power, but there is a cost, which I am paying every day and with every codeine pill I swallow. I am exiled forever from Earth, and from every planet that has any significant gravity well.

  “You should know this already, but in your ignorance, you’ve overlooked the facts.”

  “I’m sorry, Alex. If you would just come in, perhaps we could try to—”

  “You still don’t get it, do you!” Alex shouted at the Director. Taking a moment to compose himself, and get his emotions under control, Alex breathed deeply. “I don’t blame you, sir. You can’t understand. You have nothing to relate this to. That’s why I have to take matters into my own hands.”

  “What do you plan on doing, Alex?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” the young man replied.

  Michael shook his head. “No. I’m sorry, but it isn’t.”

  “I plan on fulfilling your mission. I know everything about it, even the classified aspects. I know that there is more involved here than you have released to the public—I know where you are sending this space ship.

  “Of course, both of us realize that the Quanta is perfectly capable of withstanding light speed flight, capable of harnessing the small amount of Kinemetic energy it will release, that your precautions to safeguard the small payload will bear fruit, and that this mission has a better-than ninety-nine percent chance of succeeding.”

  Alex lowered his voice as he continued.

  “However, I also know that under your mission parameters, the ship will never return to Earth, and neither will the pilot.”

  He paused for effect, his face growing serious. “Your pilot has a family, Mr. Sanderson. I know he does not have a wife or children, but he has a mother and a father, grandparents, a sister in Tacoma with a husband and three kids of her own; two nephews and a niece who will never see him again.

  “I have nothing to lose, no family, no ties; and everything to gain—my life, my future, my own personal survival. Secondly, if this mission fails, you know as well as I that the political situation on Earth will preempt any subsequent missions by at least a decade, or perhaps forestall them forever if war breaks out. Everyone is trying to claim the discovery for themselves, vying for position out among the stars when they have not even left the comfort of their armchairs. If there is going to be light speed space travel, the piloting can only be undertaken by those like me. Those directly exposed to the radiation of Kinemet without the protection of an ion-nullified protection receptacle.

  “So you see, I am your best option.”

  “You can’t be serious!” blurted the Director. “You can’t understand the ramifications, the—”

  “I understand completely, Mr. Sanderson. You should know that as well as anyone.

  “—As I have told you, Kinemet offers wonderful advantages. But the cost is much higher than you can understand. Given a choice, I would take my parents back. But I’m up against the wall. I don’t have the resources to live in null-gravity for the rest of my life; and this mission will be a disaster without me—unless you wished to postpone until you can expose one of your test pilots to the effects of unshielded Kinemetic radiation. And that would permanently damn him, exile him from ever living on Earth.”

  Michael averted his eyes from Alex’s balding head, his pigmentless face, and the atrophy his muscles showed. “No, we cannot postpone the flight.”

  “It seems to me that it is in your best interest to cooperate with me on this.” Alex waited for their decision.

  “What if we do decide to abort?”

  Alex shook his head. “As I have said, without this, I have nothing. It would be better for me to point this ship at the Sun, see how much of a tan I can get.

  “However, if you let me undertake this mission in place of Captain Kincardine, I will cooperate with you one-hundred percent, and you will get everything out of this experiment that you had hoped for. You may think I don’t know what I am doing, but let me assure you that I have read and memorized—and understood—every byte of information I could find.”

  The Director just stared at him for a long time. Finally, he spoke.

  “Alex, I think we need a few minutes here to confer.”

  “Of course. The flight window will stay open for another fourteen hours. Take all the time you need.”

  ∞

  Alex turned off his casement, terminating communication.

  He took a deep breath to calm himself.

  They would be racing through his file trying to find some foothold on him, some way to rationalize all of this, f
ind some way to convince him not to go through with his madness. Everything about Alex, his parents, his life, was in that file, he knew. But no matter how many different ways they tried to sort the information, they would have no choice but to accept that Alex’s offer was the only option they would have. His back was to the wall, and so was theirs.

  Nevertheless, Director Sanderson would try to talk him out of it. Alex was ready for the argument.

  He reached over and took a heavy three-ring binder labeled ‘TOP SECRET’ off a hook on the edge of the console. The manual contained the specific instructions and procedures for the safe operation of the Quanta. It also contained mission directives for the pilot once his destination had been achieved.

  Alex had not had access to this manual before, since it was never kept on computer file, and the only two copies had been kept on board the ship for security reasons. He decided to take advantage of the time and read it.

  First, he checked the monitors to ensure the ship was still on course in stable orbit following the Moon. Satisfied, he leaned back into the pilot’s chair and opened the manual to the first page, memorizing the book word for word, as he read.

  ∞

  Halfway through the book he noticed a light flashing on his console indicating an incoming call from the launch control center. He flipped on his monitor to reveal Mike Sanderson once more.

  “I assume you’ve considered my proposal,” Alex said, tossing the manual on to a shelf—it began floating away, and he hastily snatched it out of the air and hooked it on the wall again before the Director noticed.

  Sanderson ran his fingers through his mussed hair before answering, “Yes. We’ve discussed this at length.”

  “Then you see why you have no choice, why you can’t talk me down?”

  “Yeah,” the Director sighed. “But I still can’t allow you to go on with this.”

  “Why?” Alex demanded.

  “I have superiors—there are the authorities—a dozen reasons: like you’re unqualified, underage, and possibly insane—oh, Alex, why don’t you just come down from there? Nobody here in their right mind will let you go through with this!”

  “No!” shouted Alex. “If you don’t have the authority to approve this, then get someone who does! Get the damned CEOs of USA, Inc. and Canada Corp. if you have to!” he demanded.

  Michael looked at him with a sympathetic look that Alex did not want.

  Grasping for straws, Alex added: “Don’t you realize that at the very least I am saving the pilot’s life by taking his place?”

  “Alex, that pilot is fully aware of the risks he is taking and fully cognizant of all of the factors involved.”

  “So am I!”

  “No, you’re not!” the Director yelled in frustration. A hand on his shoulder stopped him from saying anything more. Somebody whispered in his ear and he turned back to Alex with a haggard sigh.

  “Director William Tuttle is coming up to Ops; he wants talk to you as soon as he gets here.”

  Michael leaned closer, as if everyone in the center could not already hear every word that had passed between the two. “Alex, I’m sure you won’t get in very much trouble if you just come down right now. You’ll save all of us so much hassle.”

  “No. If it’s all the same to you, Mr. Sanderson, I think I will wait and talk with the Director.”

  “Fine,” answered Michael, and in frustration he turned off the monitor.

  Alex had time recheck the flight stats, as well as go back into the cargo bay to make sure he had enough food and water, and also had time to finish off the manual before he got a call from the Director of NASA.

  While he was reading the manual, he looked over at the pull-ring set in the wall many times—it was the final test in this mission, the final test that would bring Alex to the apex of his life—but first he would have to win past the Director of NASA.

  He turned on the monitor when it blinked to notify him of an incoming link.

  “Hello, Alex,” said an older man. He was sitting next to Michael with another headset on and smiling disarmingly at Alex.

  Alex immediately grew wary. “Hello, sir,” he answered, a bright smile on his face.

  “Oh, you just call me Bill, son,” the Director offered in a sprawling Georgian accent. “Now, you’ve got an awful bunch of folks here up in arms about you, uh, appropriating that vehicle. Now, why don’t you just bring it back down here and give these nice folks a break?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Bill,” Alex replied in a condescending tone to match the Director’s. Tuttle kept his unwavering smile as Michael started whispering in his ear. The microphones couldn’t pick up what was said, but Alex knew just the same—they were talking about him.

  When Sanderson finished his monologue, the Director focused his smiling attention back on Alex.

  “Hmmn. It seems here that we have what my folks back home would call a dilemma. But I’m gonna make an administrative decision here and, considering your case and the situation at hand, I’m gonna instruct Mission Control here to go on with the operation as if you were the regular pilot. However,” he added in an aside to Michael, also meant for Alex’s ears, “since nobody but ourselves in this here room knows what’s just transpired, we’re gonna keep it hush-hush. No one is to know about our li’l switcheroo.”

  “What?” Alex demanded, nearly jumping from his seat. His head fogged a little as he saw his name being wiped from all future textbooks. No one would know him, no one would know what he had done—and that was half the reason why he had undertaken this project of his in the first place! But now it would be all for naught!

  “Oh, sorry, son,” the Director said quickly. “But we are just like a little mouse forced into a corner by a cat. We have to let you do this, else we stand to lose an awful bunch of the taxpayer’s money. But if the public ever got wind that we let a fourteen-year-old go on such a mission, why we’d never hear the end of it.”

  “But—” Alex began, eyes wide, brimming with tears.

  The Director raised a hand to quell the protest. “However, we have to come up with some name to satisfy the history books—especially since our other pilot will be about and alive. I’m sure the Director here can quickly make up a pilot file under the name ‘Alex Manez’. And I’m sure that Michael’s people at the Government in Ottawa will be more than obliged to change your birth date officially to make it seem as if you were old enough to go on this here mission. I’m sure I can get NASA and the Pentagon to come around. Now, will that satisfy you, son?”

  Alex sank back into the pilot’s chair in relief. The main reason he was doing this was for his parents’ benefit. They had lost their lives for Kinemet. If Alex could make use of the new element, make it a success, then his parents’ deaths would have meaning to him. But that hadn’t been the only driving force behind his decision, that hadn’t been what had forced him across the final length of the Lunar tarmac and into the Quanta.

  The past few years he had been nothing but a freaky little kid who limped like an old man—a spectacle, a sideshow attraction to be googled at for a few minutes, then discarded. No one paid attention to him. He wanted the world to know his name as a person, to know he had changed the course of history.

  But even if posterity remembered him as a slightly different, slightly older Alex Manez, then all was well. He would be known, and his parents’ deaths would have meaning.

  “Yes, Sir,” Alex answered finally, “that’s all right by me.” Alex knew the Director did not give a damn about him, and only acted with the propensity of an administrator trying to meet an end. That suited Alex just fine.

  The Director smiled even wider. “All right, then.” He turned to Michael in an aside that Alex could hear. “I trust you can take matters from here?”

  “Yes, sir,” came the muted reply. The Director removed the head set and, with a nod and smile to Alex, moved out of the way of the technicians and controllers to let them get on with the experiment.

 
; ∞

  Because of the nature of the new element, the Kinemetic reaction would disable all electronic systems on the ship. As with Macklin’s Rock, there had been no energy left to even power the security receptacles. This phenomenon had been studied at length, and, the techs thought, solved.

  Alex stared at the pull-ring placed a few inches below the manual.

  The techs had surmised that a kick-start could return power to all systems. Once he reached his destination, the pilot would have about ten seconds to grab that ring and pull it…

  Or so they thought.

  Alex knew better. The kick-start would not be enough to overcome the Kinemetic influence. The pilot would die out in space from lack of oxygen, or lack of heat, whichever got to him first. Although he would be exposed to the Kinemetic power, and become clairvoyant and electropathic as Alex was, the pilot would not have enough time to orient himself, and develop that ability. It had taken Alex a few days to be able to grasp the power and wield it effectively.

  Only someone with the electropathic ability could restart the power generator. Someone like Alex. He would explain this to Mission Control later, when he had proved his theory.

  He got a signal from ground control: they were beginning the secondary countdown.

  10 … 9 … 8 … 7 … 6 … 5 … 4 … 3 … 2…

  Alex took a deep breath and closed his eyes as they reached the number 1…

  … and then he was struggling for reality.

  His vision doubled, faded, tripled, doubled, refocused; his hearing echoed, muted, expanded; his sense of touch was beyond description.

  Time was nothing.

  Four hours to Pluto?

  It was merely four instants for Alex.

  46

  USA, Inc. Exploration Site :

  Mission Orcus 3 :

  Pluto :

  Justine stood on the edge of Sol System with bated breath. For the first time in four years, Dis Pater was reacting once again.

  With the exception of Sakami Chin, who had been recalled to the People’s Republic of China after his capture and subsequent rescue from Luna, the entire crew of the Orcus 1 had returned for the Orcus 3 mission to witness the first planned light speed flight from Luna to Pluto.