Legacy: An Event Group Thriller

by David L. Golemon

  McCabe gathered his papers and headed for the door.

  Soon he’d have to distance himself from these nuts.

  JET PROPULSION LABORATORY, PASADENA, CALIFORNIA

  They all watched the rover John as it used its drill arm and bucket carrier to right itself at the rim.

  The camera angle shifted, it seemed to go crazy for a moment and then the picture stabilized. Loud shouts and cheers coursed through the control room as John had pulled off the miracle and righted itself. The view was once again spectacular and the technicians shouted praises to the telemetry team that had come up with the plan to use the complicated appendage system to correct the problem of John lying on its side.

  Nathan looked to his left and the president nodded his head, mouthing the words, “Great job.”

  No one but the closest Secret Service agent could see the small laptop in front of the president of the United States, nor the clear picture of Niles Compton as the president spoke to him in hushed tones.

  “Okay. Let’s get ready to shut John down to recharge,” Nathan called out, as he waved for his people to sit back at their stations. “He’s got to be tired after all of that effort to sit up.”

  The president was talking into his headset. Then he nodded to no one and placed a hand over the microphone. He leaned over and said a few words to the director of JPL. The man raised his brows and said a few words back to the president, but it seemed the president had said what he had to say and continued looking at the older man without blinking. He just nodded his head in the direction of Nathan.

  “Cancel that order,” the director called out. “Bring John back to the edge of the crater. We need to get a view of the interior.”

  “Wait a minute, John is starving for power. We need a recharge and if we’re not careful we could lose him. If he doesn’t receive his order in the right amount of time, he could go right over the edge.”

  The president of the United States fixed Nathan with a calm look, and everyone could see that he was struggling to keep his cool.

  “Mr. Nathan, that is an acceptable risk. Now please bring John to the rim of the crater,” the director of JPL ordered.

  “Yes, sir,” Nathan answered, not understanding the willingness to risk the only Beatle left on the surface of the Moon. “REMCOM, shut down until we can get as precise a measurement as possible to the crater’s rim.”

  Before the telemetry relay station could answer, the president stood and looked over the room below him.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, you have done great work to this point. What I have to say is that I may know a few things you don’t. I’m sorry for the risk, but for the moment use your best guess. We just don’t have the time for any lengthy calculations. Get me a view of the inside of that crater—now.”

  All eyes turned from the president to Nathan, who nodded his head. Not that he understood, but he had to follow the orders of the highest-ranking man in the space program.

  “Julie, John’s your baby. Give it your best guess as to the distance from John’s current position to the edge of the crater. Utilize the boom as much as possible and when you’ve achieved a good view of the interior, shut down the tracks.”

  The young technician quickly studied the camera view from John. She closed her eyes briefly. A minute later, the view changed as John panned its lens around. She made a few keyboard punches and then shook her head.

  “Estimate is that John can only travel thirteen feet, eight inches, before he goes over the side. I recommend … er, uh, my best guess would be thirteen feet and then we’ll use the boom to get a look inside Shackleton.”

  Nathan looked over at the president, who had replaced his headphones and was speaking once more to the mysterious person on the other end. Nathan suspected that person was giving the president very bad advice.

  “I sure hope you’re right, baldy. If looks could kill, some other lucky jerk would be finishing out my term.” The president looked around as he waited for Niles to say something.

  “We need to know what kind of devastation we have inside that crater. We have to have some idea of the destructive force of that mineral. I wouldn’t ask if we didn’t have to have every bit of information we can possibly get. It’s either that or you’re forced to make a judgment call that will send many men and women on a trip they may not come back from.”

  The president couldn’t argue with the call Niles was making him commit to.

  “Okay, once more you’ve got me over a barrel.”

  All eyes watched as the command finally reached John and the rover started rolling. At first it was a herky-jerky movement that caused a lot of concern. They hoped that John hadn’t blown one or more of the rubber treads off its long arms and wheels. Finally the ride became smooth and, except for the swaying picture from John, the rover started following its dangerous orders to advance to the rim of the crater.

  Every muscle inside the control room tensed. The president sat as calmly as he could as the Beatle approached the end of forever. He did not feel as calm as he looked. They were risking the only eyes they had on scene, and that risk was asking a lot.

  The camera angled up to the star-filled sky as the rover’s ascent of the slope commenced. Every person in the room wanted to send a command for John to stop right there, but still the Beatle kept climbing the ridge leading to the edge. Finally an audible sigh of relief coursed through the room as John came to a stop.

  “Yeah!” Nathan called out. Then he looked around and cleared his throat as he tried to regain some of the professional bearing he always displayed. “Uh—apologies everyone. Julie, great job. Now, REMCOM, let’s get the president the view he wants.”

  “Sending the command,” a female voice called out.

  The president sat and watched. After the minute of communication delay, the camera started to angle down into the crater. The boom had been extended to its full height of ten feet from the body of the Beatle. As the focus of the lens auto-adjusted to take in the view, another gasp arose from the men and women watching. The president stood, momentarily stunned by what he was seeing.

  “Damn, Niles, are you seeing this?” the president asked. This time he didn’t care if anyone overheard him.

  At first there was silence from the Nevada end of the linkup.

  “I think it’s fair to say our priorities have just been upgraded.”

  “What do you mean?” the president asked, his eyes glued to the large screen in front of him.

  “No matter what, we are a go for the Moon, with as many people and as much equipment as we can get up there. This cannot fall into the hands of any one nation. If at all possible we have to destroy this should a cooperative agreement on the current emergency not be achieved, shattering the Case Blue accords and ending a possible allied deal. We need what’s up there desperately, but not until we can get an agreement as to what that technology is to be used against. If it can’t be used in conjunction with Case Blue, then the miracle find needs to be destroyed.”

  The president refused to comment further as Niles said something he wasn’t supposed to mention over the airwaves. The secretive aspect of what only one hundred people in the entire world knew about was what was driving everyone to extremes. He wasn’t ready to explain what was really happening yet to the American people, much less the world.

  On the large screen below was a sight that froze the hearts of everyone.

  Sitting in the deepest part of the Shackleton Crater, buried for what could have been a billion years and uncovered by the explosion of the mineral sample, was what looked like an entire base. Some of the upper reaches of the buildings had been destroyed by the blast, but for the most part it had survived the devastation intact. The billion years of lunar soil had been lifted, burned away, or melted, exposing a sight that rivaled any artist’s conception of ancient ruins.

  The president counted over seventy-five buildings made from a material he couldn’t begin to guess at. There was piping running in and out of glass enclo
sures, buildings with giant doors and loading platforms. The sight was like looking at a future age Moon base, familiar perhaps to some of the most ardent science fiction fans, but terrifying to others with more earthbound imaginations.

  “I would say there may be items in that base that many nations would be willing to risk a war over,” Niles said. “Or possibly something we may be able to use against a more worthy and deserving foe. Are we agreed on that?”

  “Niles, that’s enough. Your point is made. I’ll speak with the Chinese again, but not another word about our true intentions over the air.” The president lowered his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, then relaxed and looked at the view from Shackleton one more time. “Okay, Mr. Director. You are now a go for Operation Dark Star. Confirm?”

  “We’re way ahead of you,” Niles answered. And then the line was disconnected.

  The president pulled off his headphones and lay them on the desk, and then he stood and buttoned his jacket. As he did so, the doors to the control room opened and fifteen blue-clad Air Police from the United States Air Force entered the room. As they spread out toward each telemetry station, they started collecting discs and paperwork describing the day’s activities from the Moon.

  “Once again, ladies and gentlemen, I appreciate everything you’ve achieved, and want to say thank you for your dedication, but Operation Peregrine has just been militarized.” The president saw the shocked civilian faces of everyone in the control room as their work was taken from them. “All this can and will be explained to you after some decisions are made. You are still in control of the Peregrine mission, make no mistake about that.” The president felt like Joseph Stalin for the strong-armed way he was doing things. He had never wanted to be the bullying ex-general that most people secretly feared after becoming president.

  “Then why is our work being taken? Everything here has to do with Peregrine.” Nathan was no longer able to hold his anger in check.

  “Because, pretty soon you’ll be assisting a manned expedition to the very spot your John is now looking at.”

  “You mean we’re going back to the Moon, sir?” Nathan asked, totally taken aback.

  “Yes, Mr. Nathan, we are. In force if we have to.”

  PART TWO

  INHERIT THE STARS

  6

  EVENT GROUP COMPLEX, NELLIS AIR FORCE BASE, NEVADA

  The crazed white hair of Charles Hindershot Ellenshaw III was something of a legend at the Event Group. Crazy Charlie, as he was known to the younger members of the Group, had fought for ten years to make his Cryptozoology Department a respected part of the mainstream sciences at the complex. The amazing thing was that he had done just that by proving almost every crazed theory he had about animal life in the past and showing that those theories not only had a foundation in today’s science, but that the animal life in question might still exist. However, that was not the reason Jack Collins had insisted Charlie go along. He knew the professor was one of the quickest and sharpest minds at the Event Group, as well as a man who could formulate a theory faster than anyone Jack had ever seen—and all on a minimum of information.

  At the moment, Charlie Ellenshaw was having a hard time keeping up with Everett and Collins as he tried to follow them toward the Computer Center. He was juggling an overnight bag and several books on Ecuador and its legends. He had gotten a jump on Jack and his request by learning all he could on the area of interest. He was already considering several theories on the myths and legends of that people from time immemorial. As he dropped three of his books, he ran into the back of the much thicker Captain Everett, who turned and helped Charlie collect his fallen material.

  “Take it easy, Doc. We have time. Jack’s going in to inform our good Dr. Golding that he’s going on his first field assignment.”

  “Oh, that’s marvelous.” Charlie stood up, nudging his load upward as he did so with his thin knee. Once upright he tried to fix his glasses, which were askew, but couldn’t. Carl rolled his eyes. He reached out and put the professor’s glasses on straight. “Look, Captain,” Dr. Ellenshaw said, “I just want to thank you and the colonel for allowing me to come along. You don’t know how boring it gets when everyone is on an assignment they deem Crypto unqualified to assist in.”

  Everett patted Ellenshaw on the shoulder. “Doc, you’ve earned your stripes. We need fast thinkers where we’re going.” Carl smiled and squeezed the thin man’s shoulder. “Besides we may need your gun hand.”

  “Really?” Ellenshaw said, excitement coursing through his features.

  “No, not really. You’re going to stay on the plane and assist Pete with Europa.”

  “Oh,” Charlie said, the disappointment clearly showing.

  Everett smiled and shook his head. He noticed Jack entering the Computer Sciences Center.

  Collins stood at the top of the uppermost tier of the center aisle and tried to find Pete in the mass of humanity. The computer team was spread out everywhere, all of them mixed in with people from Virginia’s Nuclear Sciences Division and the Astrophysics Department. Jack finally spied Pete. He was moving from one group to the other and looking forlorn as he listened to ways in which they could get men and women back to the Moon in record-setting time. Collins hustled down the stairs past three hundred desks that sat on differing levels off the center. He finally reached the main floor and walked up behind Dr. Pete Golding, the most brilliant computer man in the business. He watched as Pete examined a design on a large monitor as several men and women stood around.

  “This is just an opinion,” said Pete, “but in light of the Russian incident, the fuel used in the Apollo program is just too highly volatile for this kind of mission. I mean, someone could sabotage it with a firecracker. It seems—”

  Pete stopped talking when several of the engineers turned and faced him. Their looks said they knew how volatile hydrogen and oxygen can be, but at the moment they had no choice but to work with what they had.

  Collins tapped Pete on the shoulder. Clearly the computer genius felt embarrassed at stating the obvious to the men and women next to the engineering station.

  “Colonel?” Pete said, as he turned and saw it was Jack.

  “Feeling left out, Pete?”

  “It seems everyone is dead set on rushing this thing—and you know what that means? It means a lot of people could get killed because someone forgot to dot an ‘i’ or cross a ‘t.’”

  That statement summed up was what was on the colonel’s mind. That was why the mission he and Everett were about to undertake was so important. Maybe they could save the lives of the men and women who were destined to be shot into space on very hurriedly made plans. In particular, there were three people he was most worried about.

  “How would you like to get the hell out of here, Doc?”

  “Out? You mean, like outside?” Pete looked a little shocked at any suggestion of going out in the sunlight.

  “Yeah, Doc. Out, like to Germany. I need you on a field team, and I need what you can do with Europa. We need—”

  Pete Golding turned on his heel and started for the risers.

  “Hey, where are you going?” Jack called after him.

  “To get my overnight bag before you change your mind,” Pete called back.

  Jack shook his head and followed Golding upward into the highest tier of the Computer Center.

  “They’ve got to get you people out more,” Collins mumbled as he caught up with Pete.

  * * *

  Ten minutes later, Jack and Carl had their black duffel bags packed with almost everything they would need overseas, including new passports and all their operations gear. As they waited for the elevator on Level 7, they were spotted from a distance.

  “So, are you two off fishing or something?” Sarah asked as she stepped up to Jack. He noticed she was carrying her own duffel bag over her shoulder. She looked at the equipment both he and Everett were carrying.

  “We’re going to try and stop this insanity,” Jack said, and
turned to face Sarah. “You people act all excited and privileged about this crap, but I don’t feel that way. This project is hurried, and Niles is overlooking the fact that someone out there doesn’t want anything going to the Moon. And even if they get there, they may face an armed force of Chinese or someone else.”

  Everett was a little shocked at the way Jack had delivered his little speech to Sarah. The venom in his voice took both him and Sarah by surprise.

  Collins lowered his head and laid down his bag. “I kind of went overboard there, huh?”

  Sarah placed her own bag next to Jack’s and smiled.

  “Well, you weren’t shy about saying what was on your mind. You’ve come a long way, Jack. You didn’t use to say that many words in a week.”

  Collins finally smiled and put his hand on the side of Sarah’s face.

  “Look, short stuff, use your own common sense with this thing. Personally, I think our director could have chosen any number of geologists for this screwed-up plan of his.”

  “He needs people he can trust up there, Jack. Besides, it looks like we’re the backup plan here. NASA and JPL threw a fit about axing their more experienced teams. They go first on Ares, at least that’s the word we’re getting.”

  “Wait,” Everett said, looking down at the diminutive McIntire. “They get the new system and you’re going on that old relic, Atlas?”

  “It probably won’t even work,” Sarah said with a smile, just as Mendenhall and Ryan walked up with their flight bags slung over their shoulders.

  “That’s my damn point, the Atlas V is ancient,” Everett argued, angrier than even Jack had been a moment before. He looked at Jason Ryan and fixed him with a look that could kill. “And I don’t think Mr. Ryan can fly this one. It’s not a helicopter or a fighter jet but a million pounds of liquid explosive sitting under his ass. And where in the hell were you, Lieutenant McIntire, when the plane carrying you, Virginia, and the director took off without a preflight check? Were you in a hurry? Oh, by the way, you left Houston with a bomb attached.” Carl was actually leaning toward Sarah. “Everyone here is failing to take the right precautions on this thing, and for a bunch of brilliant people, that’s just damned stupid!”