Destination: Earth: The Enigma Series, Part Three

by Andrew C Broderick

  “No, just keep panning. The instrument’ll point where we need it to soon enough.”

  “I hope this works,” Mark said. “Any debris should still show pretty hot.”

  “I’m seeing some now. Squares, irregularly shaped pieces; probably the ones that were closer to the blast and took more of the heat. I doubt there…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

  ****

  Drew’s lungs were already starting to burn with the carbon dioxide buildup in his suit. He tried taking shallow breaths to preserve oxygen, even though he knew his body would eventually force him to take something deeper in order to stay oxygenated. If only the Sigma hadn’t also been crippled by the pulse. The only possible hope of salvation lay in the presence of the Theta, but she was hundreds of miles away and would never reach them in time, much less be able to find them.

  I have a minute left, maybe two. Drew had never figured out what Storm was trying to say to him. Storm was still alive—for now. So, why not say it? It didn’t matter anymore since the last few seconds of their lives were ticking away. I love you, Drew mouthed, unsure whether Storm could make out what he was saying.

  The crushing pain in his chest now grew with every passing heartbeat. It wouldn’t be long and he would be free of all his earthly troubles. The Enigma, his family, Storm… Hopefully, he had brought his brother some small comfort in his last few minutes by being there with him. Drew felt his grip on the airlock wheel beginning to loosen. He would soon become just another part of the cosmos, tracing a path endlessly through a universe without limits.

  ****

  Storm squinted. What was Drew trying to say? It looked like “I love you.” Was he really saying that? Shit. Maybe he was. They were way past loss of face. All that tough, manly exterior they worked so hard to front was blown away by death’s icy breath, until only what mattered remained: the very core of a person, their spirit, the spark of life within unencumbered by worry or fear or anger or anxiety or anything superficial. That was the part that went on. That’s what Storm had been reduced to by their crucible: a beautiful, joyous, liberating freedom. Yeah, Drew had said “I love you”, and Storm mouthed it back, hoping his brother would get the message. Even though his chest hurt like a son of a bitch, Storm felt a vibrant peace and joy. And soon, that would be all that was left.

  ****

  “I don’t believe what I’m seeing!” Gabrielle gasped. “There’s a square panel about half a mile away, and I’m seeing what looks like both the Sigma and the crab in front of it on infrared!”

  “Right, I’m taking us over,” Drexel said. He turned the ship and gunned it, pushing them both back in their seats and Mark against the right-hand wall of the airlock.

  Within moments they had arrived on the scene, and illuminated it easily with their exterior lights. The Sigma lit up clearly. But the crab, still attached to its slab of black Q-carbon, was further away. “Do you think anyone on the Sigma survived?” Drexel said, slowing the Theta.

  “I don’t know, but we don’t have time to worry about them right now; we’ve got a drifter pulling away from the crab,” Gabrielle said, pointing at a lone body floating in space.

  “His maneuvering unit’s disabled,” Mark said. “He must have let go of the handle. There’s no time to waste.” He turned so his feet were against the rear airlock wall, and powered off the hull, propelling himself though space as if launching from the side of an Olympic swimming pool, towards the hapless astronaut.

  It felt like a geological age to Mark for him to traverse the hundred feet to reach the floating man and brake so he didn’t overshoot. He maneuvered so he was above Drew, face-to-face with him, and looked in through his visor. Drew’s eyes were closed. He shook Drew’s arm and shoulder hoping for a response, but none came. “It’s Drew. Crap, he’s unresponsive! I’m going to tow him back.”

  “Roger that,” Drexel said. “I’ll move in.”

  Mark grabbed Drew by the arm, and used his mental implant to command the suit’s propulsion system. It was agonizingly slow going, dragging somebody who weighed more than he did.

  The suit’s thrusters eventually got them up to running speed. Mark turned around. “Oh hell!” The airlock door was much closer than he expected. He braked as hard as he could, but it wasn’t enough. They flew through the opening and crashed into the back wall, causing the cracks in Drew’s helmet to spiderweb wider. Mark cursed under his breath as he set out towards the crab.

  “Damn it, I wish we could communicate with the Sigma,” Gabrielle said.

  “My main priority right now is Drew and Storm. Sigma should still have oxygen left,” Drexel said. “Sounds like Drew’s already succumbed to hypoxia, and I expect Storm has too. We can pick up the Sigma crew once we’ve secured these two. And then I’m in favor of warping back to Earth immediately.”

  Gabrielle nodded. “Agreed. Keep us running hot.”

  “Will do.” Drexel worked a midair display and the counter rotating flywheels—the central component of the warp drive—spun up within the rear of the ship.

  ****

  Mark looked in through the dinner tray-sized window of the crab’s airlock, but it was hard to make out anything inside. He knocked on the window—an instinctive, if futile, gesture. “Drexel, move the ship so the lights are directly behind me.”

  “Will do.”

  The stark shadow of the edge of the window slowly moved across Storm’s helmet. Just before his own shadow plunged Storm’s face back into darkness, Mark could see that his eyes were closed.

  “I’m going to open this damn door if it kills me,” Mark said. He grabbed the wheel that Drew had been unable to budge, and yanked it counterclockwise as hard as he possibly could. He went flying clockwise from the reaction. But the mechanism had budged. “Yes!”

  “You got it open?” Gabrielle asked.

  “I did. Going to extract Storm now.”

  He pushed the heavy door in and grabbed Storm by one arm, leveraging the outside of the crab to push off with his feet, dragging the astronaut behind him. “On my way back.”

  “Great job, Mark.” Drexel said.

  “Prepping a chillsuit to slow brain damage,” Gabrielle said. “Hopefully there’s something left to save.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Never been so glad to see Earth in my life,” Gabrielle said as the brilliant blue planet filled the cabin with light. “Now to give the world the good news.” She touched the comms panel. “USS Theta to Houston.”

  “You’re back early, Theta. Is everything okay?”

  “Not remotely. We’re back with survivors of a nuclear explosion.”

  There was a pause. “I’m sorry, did you say nuclear?”

  “Yes. An unknown ship left a nuke in the Enigma’s path, about 200,000 miles ahead of the ship. It detonated as the Enigma passed. We got out of there just in time, but the Sigma crew were trying to save Storm Kovacs, who couldn’t get out of his scrap harvesting vehicle. The nuke went off, but somehow he and the Sigma’s crew were spared. We’re on our way to the NES now. Both Storm and Drew Kovacs have severe hypoxia from their suits shutting down, and may already be dead. Also, you need to scramble another ship to save those aboard the Sigma. There are three people there, and if they’re still alive, their only air is what’s already in the ship.”

  “Uh, roger that,” a stunned ground controller stammered. “We’ll get right on it.”

  Gabrielle dragged a video file to the downlink folder.

  “Is the Enigma destroyed?”

  “No, far from it. The video you’ll see in a few seconds shows it shedding an outer layer. An enormous spaceship emerged. No idea where it’s headed yet.”

  ****

  At first, it was all white light. Then, it focused into several rectangles. Storm blinked.

  Then, a familiar face moved in from the right; an older lady with black, curly hair. “Storm!” she cried. “He’s awake!”

  “Mom?”

  “Yes, sweetie. Oh, honey, you ca
me back to us!” She pressed in and squeezed Storm.

  A gaggle of concerned doctors and nurses began to flood the room. “Please, Mrs. Kovacs, I understand you’re happy to see your son again, but could you give us just a little space to check on Storm’s brain activity and responses?”

  “When I’m good and ready!” she snapped, before turning back to Storm and burying her face in his neck. Her tears soaked his pillow.

  “Mom, you’re going to suffocate me!”

  “All right, dear, I’ll back off a bit.”

  Mrs. Kovacs loosened her hold. Storm was able to see again, and the next face lit up his heart: Anna.

  Storm extended his left arm, and pulled her into an embrace. “You came to see me!”

  “Of course I did, Dad,” she said, her voice cracking. Storm closed his eyes and inhaled as sharply as he dared, taking in every moment.

  At length, she let go, and he saw two more familiar faces: Dmitry and Desira grinning from somewhere near the wall. “You’re back!” Desira said.

  “Yeah, I guess I am. Where am I?”

  “You’re in hospital in Huntsville, Alabama,” a large, black-haired doctor said. “You’ve been through a lot, Storm. In fact, you’ve made medical history. You should try and rest. I’m Dr. Russell, by the way.”

  “What the hell happened anyway?”

  “You were in a nuclear explosion, buddy!” Dmitry said.

  “What?”

  “Somebody, probably the Russians, set off a nuke near the Enigma. It knocked out every electrical system, of course. That’s why your suit and all the systems on the crab died. And you nearly died.”

  “You’d been without oxygen for around fifty-five minutes,” Dr. Russell said. “Judging by your brain activity right now, you’ve retained an amazing amount of brain function. It’ll take a week or two to judge the full extent of the damage, though.”

  Storm struggled to process the implications of that statement, but all he could manage was, “Okay.” Then he went as white as a sheet. “What about Drew?”

  Dr. Russell sighed, and his shoulders dropped a little. “Drew’s still in a coma. We honestly don’t know when, or if, he’s coming out of it.”

  “Oh, God. He was trying to save me…”

  “Don’t beat yourself up, man,” Dmitry said. “You’d have done the same for him.”

  Storm remained quiet for a moment. “Yeah. I think I would.” His eyes became moist. “Did the Sigma survive?”

  “Amazingly, yes. Well, its crew members, anyway. And they’re all home safe.”

  “But, Drew…”

  Another doctor entered with two nurses. The small room was now packed.

  “I was hoping this wasn’t going to happen,” Dr. Russell groaned.

  “I’m afraid so,” the tall, gray-haired man replied, not looking up from the tablet on which he was viewing Storm’s chart. He then looked at Storm. “Now that you’re out of the critical zone, we’re going to have to move you.”

  “Where to?”

  “A community hospital about thirty miles away. We’re evacuating the hospital.”

  “Why?”

  The man looked at him, puzzled. “You don’t know? Oh, of course. You just woke up. There’s a possible nuclear conflict with Russia. We’ll need every space in this hospital to treat the casualties. Assuming the hospital survives, of course.”

  “What?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Dmitry said. “D and I are leaving for the Moon this afternoon—or, we’re going to try, anyway. Might not be able to get a shuttle. Things are pretty bad.”

  “Jesus. I’m asleep for… however long it was… and a war starts?!”

  “America is accusing Russia of nuking the Enigma and our crews,” Dmitry said.

  “Do they know for sure it was the Russians?”

  “Not exactly,” Desira said. “They’re analyzing the observations from the Theta to find the signature of the radiation. If they can match it back to uranium mined in Russia, then it was them. If not… hopefully they’ll stand down.”

  The doctor coughed to get their attention. “I should have introduced myself. I’m Dr. Frank Ferry. And his ambulance is waiting. We need everybody out of here. Now.”

  “But… we need to keep analyzing his brain activity!” Dr. Russell protested.

  “You’ll have to transfer his case to the new location, out in New Hope. They should have the necessary equipment.”

  “I doubt it,” Dr. Russell grunted.

  “You have your orders,” Dr. Ferry said in a commanding voice. “We need to get the gurney in here. I’m afraid everyone will have to leave.”

  “Orders?”

  “Dr. Russell, I’m with the US Army, and we’re requisitioning this facility as the nation prepares for war.”

  Storm looked at Anna’s stricken face. “I’ll be okay, honey. I really will.” He reached out and took her hand from the rail, and squeezed it.

  He then turned to his right. His mother’s eyes were moist, and a tear was running down her right cheek. “Don’t worry, Mom.”

  “I can’t help it,” she croaked.

  Storm turned back to Dr. Ferry. “Are they moving my brother too?”

  “Name?”

  “Drew Kovacs.”

  He scrolled through the list of names. “Not yet, since he’s still critical. But if things get any worse, they’ll have to.”

  Storm nodded gingerly, and sighed. “I just hope it doesn’t come to war.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  October 1st, 1858

  “The world still has no idea who we are,” Simon said, standing in the enormous bookshelf-lined study.

  “Yes,” Edward replied, from his spot in a handsome high-backed leather armchair by a roaring fire. “Nor should it, really. I am still Edward Platte and you are still Simon Macomber, my loyal butler. We’re still them, but also ourselves. As long as neither says anything to give the game away, it’ll stay that way. Then, when these men become too old, we’ll find someone else to inhabit.”

  Simon nodded thoughtfully. “Tell me, what do you think of this society in which we find ourselves?”

  “It’s not a bad place. Planet Earth has plenty going for it: a good climate and abundant food. It seems we chose well. The society itself… well … that remains to be seen.”

  “But what will the English think when the others arrive?” Simon asked.

  Edward considered a moment. “They’re a fairly militaristic nation, currently owning almost half the world. They won’t take kindly to an alien race setting up somewhere on their green and pleasant land.”

  “Right. I’ve been thinking, we need to somehow acquire an island large enough to accommodate our society. Since we can’t take one by force, we’ll have to buy it. The Enigma Society, rich though it is, doesn’t yet have that kind of money.”

  “We do have time on our side. Though I don’t want to induct anyone else into the Society if possible. The more people know about it, the greater the risk of the lid being blown.”

  “How much is the Society worth right now?” Simon asked.

  “Some twenty-four point seven million pounds. Twelve million from Platte Paper Industries, 900,000 from Fraser Law, 2.1 million from Brinsley Colliery, one million from Seligman Bank, 800,000 from the East India Company, and 6.9 million from another dozen miscellaneous benefactors, three of whom have passed on. That’s already too many people. They may be sworn to secrecy, but secrets have a habit of getting out. The Society needs more cash, and preferably at a faster clip than if we simply invested what we have. Not to mention that some of the firms we have stake in are faring poorly.”

  “Then we require an alternate strategy. The good news is that humanity is turning a corner technologically. Their “Industrial Revolution” is in full swing. But, there’s an even bigger development happening,” Simon said.

  “Oh yes? What?”

  “Telecommunications. They’ve just seen the deployment of the first trans-Atlantic cable. Now th
ey can send a message from London to Washington within hours, instead of a week.”

  Edward stroked his beard as he looked into the flickering fire. “It seems a pivotal time for them, true. To tell the truth, they’re only a few years away from still further leaps in telecommunications.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Two men, A.G. Bell and Elisha Gray, are working on it. It could be five years or twenty, but they’ll manage it. Radio signals can’t be more than a few decades away at this point.”

  “We should invest in their efforts, then,” Simon said.

  “Indeed. We’ve seen where that technology leads.”

  “Venture funding, then, or producing the cables?”

  “Possibly both,” Edward said.

  The pair was quiet for a while. Simon sat down opposite Edward. He, too, was drawn in by the flickering flames. Both men were lost in thought, one foot in the present and the other in prehistory.

  “The fire reminds me of the Pyre of Arades,” Simon said.

  “Yes. Remember how the eight others would be lit in a giant circle at Supertide every three-and-a-half revolutions?”

  Simon smiled. “The flickering flames made shadows in the sand carvings to Inaka. It was a privilege to see.”

  “Do you think it would be worth going to see either Mr. Bell or Mr. Gray?”

  “For what purpose?” Simon asked.

  “To give them the answers,” Edward said matter-of-factly.

  “You mean give them the design for the telephone?”

  Edward nodded and Simon shook his head. “No need. They’ll get there on their own. Though, we may want to consider acquiring a cable manufacturer.”

  “Or starting one of our own,” Simon said.

  “Worth looking into,” Edward replied.

  “By George, I’ve got it!”

  “What?” Edward asked, taken aback.

  “Impart consciousness to the cables! We can listen in on everything that gets transmitted!”

  Edward sat upright. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes! Knowledge, especially secret knowledge, is power. There’s no limit to what we could do given enough of it,” Simon said excitedly.