by Mark Wandrey
Inevitably her thoughts turned to the enigmatic bones sitting in a case on her desk. Add the appearance of alien starships in their system. Add the revelations of the Tog's age, and the new truth of humanity’s non-debt to them. What did it all mean? After years of what had become a quiet life, Minu felt that things were stating to happen again. Just before she drifted off to sleep she remembered her father’s journals, and the further mysteries contained therein.
Chapter 7
September 19th, 533 AE
Groves Industries Test Field, New Jerusalem Tribe, Bellatrix
A month went by quickly. Aaron's firm finished the final prototype for the AX-2, and he drove himself mercilessly to get back in condition. The doctors tried a fifth and final series of nano-treatments for his legs, and finally found success. After almost four years, his wounds were nearly healed.
One fine September morning, Aaron joined her for her morning run. She had a hard time keeping up because of the tears in her eyes. He was like watching a bird first learning to fly. Running, jumping, hopping around like a teenager newly in love, Aaron was a man reborn.
That very afternoon at their cabin, Minu found him standing by the closet holding his old Chosen uniform. “Credit for your thoughts?” she asked from the door.
“Oh, just thinking about going back.”
“I'm sure they'd take you. Good scouts are still hard to find.”
“You wouldn't have a problem with that? Dangerous job.”
“So is flying prototype space planes.”
He grunted and nodded.
“I fell in love with you facing death on a daily basis, what kind of wife would I be if I tried to keep you from what you loved?”
“Thanks. I don't think I'm ready to put this back on just yet,” he admitted and put the uniform back in the closet. “I think I have a horse to get back on first.”
Minu smiled and nodded, but deep in the pit of her stomach the muscles clenched and the little girl in her mind started to moan piteously.
So it was with those words that Minu found herself as an honored guest, sitting in a comfortable chair of the Groves Industries flight control center almost five years to the day from when her husband had lost his legs, once again listening to the controllers talk about orbital insertion.
“His flight track is nominal,” an anonymous voice said over the PA to quiet applause from those assembled. In addition to Minu, her oldest friend Cherise was sitting next to her, just as nervous, and dozens of the company’s financial backers filled even more chairs. The new space plane, the AX-2, represented more than a financial venture to her family, it was a statement that humanity was returning to space on its own terms.
There was precious little the Concordia had taught them in the construction of the craft. Vast amounts of the technical know-how had been gleaned from the petabytes of data her ancestor, Mindy Harper, had spirited away from their dying world. Ted Hurt had explained a long time ago that it wasn’t truly the ‘sum of human knowledge to that date’, but it was damned close. And since Mindy was a scientist herself, she'd targeted scientific knowledge above all else.
Looking at the plane was an emphatic statement to that truth. Minu smiled as she thought, ‘the damned thing looks human!’ Not nearly as sleek or angular as a Concordian shuttle, or as needle-like as the shuttles from the People that the Kaatan carried. The AX-2 was more sweeping curves, blocky body, and wide forward swept wings meant to bite into the atmosphere for control.
Concordia tech relied much more heavily on gravitic technology as well, while the AX-2 used high-energy plasma driven control thrusters and ion propulsion that had only been theorized before Earth died. The latter was one of the few ways Concordia tech had been utilized, to finish development of only theorized drive systems from the ancient records.
“How’s it look from up there?” Minu asked quietly, knowing only the tiny crystal behind her ear would hear the question.
“I concur with the fight directors,” Lilith answered immediately. “Father’s flight path is nominal.” A small amount of Minu’s nervousness was assuaged by the knowledge that her daughter was in high orbit, ready to launch a rescue mission at a moment’s notice.
“Much better control responses than the AX-1,” her husband’s voice came over the PA, clear and crisp, as if he were sitting in the next room. “Spool up on the main drive is much quicker too. We’ve got those ion drives nailed.”
“Roger that, AX-2, ready for first programmed OPT.”
Minu took a deep breath. The Orbital Performance Tests were where things had begun to go wrong last time, even if they didn’t know it at the time. Micro fractures had developed in the control surfaces, altering the airflow in almost imperceptible amounts. The craft was so naturally unstable that the computer did most of the flying. The characteristic profiles in the programs couldn’t handle the unnatural disruptions caused by the disruptions in the flight surfaces, dooming the plane on approach.
For this flight, a web of thousands of microscopic sensors had been added. Concordia tech only for the purposes on monitoring performance, they would not be needed on the final version. As long as everything worked as advertised.
An hour went by as the AX-2 was put through its paces. It climbed to higher orbit, descended to lower orbit. Roll, pitch, and yaw were all tested in various combinations and with increasing power settings.
“Kinda like a rollercoaster at Leavenworth!” Aaron joked, making many in the control room laugh. Minu and Cherise sat quietly and listened, and waited.
“Ready for de-orbit maneuver,” he announced finally. Minu’s right hand found Cherise’s without thinking.
“Roger that, AX-2. De-orbit in five.”
Five minutes stretched into an eternity as Minu watched the huge displays, one showing an over-the-shoulder shot of Aaron in the roomy cockpit working the controls, tapping touch screens and making notes on a tablet stuck to his thigh.
Like last time he was wearing a bespoke environmental suit. But unlike last time, this one had many of the modern Chosen improvements including the energy dissipation array, up-scaled armor, and strength enhancements. It wouldn’t have kept him from being hurt the first time though, something Minu was painfully aware of.
The door to the room opened and the familiar figure of Ted Hurt slipped in quietly. Minu released Cherise’s hand and jumped up to give him a nervous hug.
“How’s it going so far?” he asked after apologizing for being late.
“Fine so far,” she said and led him over next to her chair. She gave the random functionary sitting in the chair next to hers the patented ‘death stare’, and he relinquished his seat for the distinguished elder science Dean of the University of Tranquility.
“I think half the people in Tranquility are probably watching this on TV,” Ted told her. “Half of them are hoping for a repeat of last time, I’m afraid.”
“Not happening,” Cherise said with more confidence than Minu felt. “That man will get out and flap his arms to land that thing if he has too.”
“Atmospheric interface,” Aaron announced. On the monitor looking over his shoulder, red and white flares of plasma danced across the moliplas windows as the space plane bit into the atmosphere. “Gs are building.”
“Roger that, AX-2. Everything looks nominal.” The reception broke up a little bit, side effect of the ionization the shuttle caused as it burned back into the atmosphere, then cleared up. “AX-2, prepare to deploy flight surfaces.”
“Standby,” Aaron replied. The outside mounted cameras showed the delta-wings begin to push out from the curved hull. The outside was now light blue instead of the dark of space, and tiny curls of white materialized off the sharp edges of the wing. “I’m getting response from the controls, leveling her descent.”
The plane altered its belly in approach and began to fly less like a brick. This was when it had all gone horribly wrong last time.
“Flight characteristics nominal,” the announcer told everyo
ne. Minu gasped and took a gulping breath. She didn’t know how long she’d been holding her breath. Ted took one hand and Cherise the other. It helped.
“AX-2, initiate APT.”
“Atmospheric Performance Test is underway.” This was deemed a slight risk, considering the catastrophic failure of the AX-1 that had not been stressed in such a way. But it was also prudent, as the tests would further prove to potential customers the stability of this new space plane, and should the worst happen and a problem develop, the plane would be many miles up and with more chances to work through any malfunctions.
On the monitor the sky pitched from side to side then spun lazily as Aaron put the plane through its final paces. After a minute he announced his opinion. “We’ve got a slight deviation on the port outside aileron, but not more than five percent from nominal. The program is handling it fine.”
“Roger that, AX-2, we show it as well. Engineering says they believe it’s a sensor misreport from the feedback loop.”
“Okay, let’s get this thing on the ground,” Aaron came back, “I’m getting hungry.”
The room broke out in laughter, even Minu despite the tears running down her cheeks. She’d never been prouder of the brave man she’d married. With the plane on approach but working perfectly, most of the tension was let out of the situation.
Minu still sat on the edge of her seat as they could now see out the wide moliplas vista-window as the AX-2 swept in from the east, effected a wide graceful turn and lined up on the five kilometer long ceramic concrete field.
The field and hangers were the only part of Groves Industries still located in New Jerusalem. Aaron's father had bought the field back when it was a dirigible maintenance field beginning to go broke after the widespread introduction of the maglev lines that now crisscrossed the planet.
The smooth bottom of the AX-2, now streaked with carbon scoring from reentry into the atmosphere, split in three places and the landing gear smoothly extracted and locked in place. A minute later, three puffs of smoke announced the wheels’ contact with the ground as the plane rolled out and taxied towards the waiting maintenance vehicles. Not far away the small fleet of leased emergency vehicles sat, unused.
As soon as the AX-2 turned off the taxiway, the room broke out in first subdued, then much louder, applause and finally cheers. Minu wasn't there to hear it, she was already halfway down the stairs. As Aaron stepped down from the pilot’s ladder, a fifty-five kilo red haired missile crashed into him, almost knocking him back into the still smoking fuselage of the space plane.
Minu kissed him over and over, her face slick with tears. “You can stop crying now, baby, I'm fine.”
“That's why I'm crying,” she sobbed and wrapped both arms and legs around him.
He stood there holding her, the ground crew applauding as the press showed up to take some pics of a sentimental moment between the CEO of Groves Industries and his world famous wife.
* * *
Minu stayed in the back of the conference room and worked on her personal tablet, one from the Kaatan, and kept half an ear open to the discussion underway. The test flight had been a complete success and orders were already rolling in for both the AX-2, now officially dubbed the Groves Industries A-1, Phoenix, and its innovative forced ion power-plant. Everything from planetary government for both R&D and research to private concerns looking for high speed orbital transport.
Minu looked up as one proposal was mentioned about a startup in the Boglands that wanted to explore the moons. She gave a little private smile at that one. Sorry my friends, Remus is already spoken for. But then another made note of mining on Romulus, and she thought that was a good idea.
Her tablet chirped. Another email requesting an interview from the wife of CEO Groves. She deleted it unread. This was Aaron's time, not hers. She'd jabber at the talking heads in a few weeks, once things had calmed down. With any luck, they'd completely leave her alone by that point anyway.
The Chosen were interested in a dozen. Six for the Rangers, six for the service in general. Cherise had mentioned eight, the number was a pleasant surprise. Especially since the Phoenix was too big to fit through a Portal. That relegated them to service on Bellatrix only.
Aaron complained he was not a businessman, but evidence was beginning to prove him wrong. Construction firms all over the planet were already beginning work, and the final assembly plant in New Jerusalem was nearly complete. “In six months we'll be completing one Phoenix a week,” he announced to tumultuous applause of the board and visitors. “And the design team tells me they already have two variants in the works. One cargo, and one a research platform.”
She smiled at the additional applause as others in his team added details and the coming months’ plans began to take shape. All through it Aaron stood at the head of the conference table, strong and in charge. She could see his legs were bothering, but only a little this time. She knew well how excitement and adrenaline could carry you through almost anything uncomfortable.
Her tablet chirped and she prepared to delete another solicitation from a journalist, only to find an email from the Plateau Historical Society. She read it with interest.
Mrs. Minu Groves
The Plateau Historical Society would like the chance to visit the ancestral Harper retreat on Sanctuary Island (so named by Mindy Harper in Year 29 of the colonization). A great deal of information is still missing about your storied ancestor from the planetary records. Your previous ancestors have been unwilling to allow us to visit and examine Sanctuary Island and its buildings. It would be a great service to history, and to generations to come if you were to allow this visit to take place.
Alexandra Porter
Director – Founder Research
Plateau Historical Society
Minu smiled because her father had always called them the Hysterical Society. “They take things way too seriously,” he quipped more than once at some ludicrous request on their part. She had only once seen him get angry at them, when they had wanted to do some genetic testing on Minu.
“They go too far with their prying,” Chriso had raged. Her mother had been indifferent. She'd married into the famous family, not been born to it like Minu.
Something interesting had happened at the meeting which caused some excitement and discussion, and she'd missed it while reading the message. With a pang of annoyance, she gave a quick reply. “Yes, contact me and we'll set it up.”
A few minutes later, she'd completely forgotten about the entire message.
* * *
The celebration gala was subdued, in keeping with the decorum of Groves Industries that Aaron insisted upon. More of a reception than a celebration, it still had more than a few trappings of success. Giant ice sculptures in the shape of the Phoenix adorned both of the heavily loaded banquet tables.
Aaron thought those were bad enough, but when he arrived with Minu on his arm, she dressed in an elegant knee length red dress and he in a conservative tux, there by the far end of the hall was a three meter tall ice sculpture of Aaron.
“What the fuck...” he growled. “Whoever did that is fired, I swear.”
Minu pinched one butt cheek, making him jump slightly. “Go ahead and try. It was me, Mr. Grumblebutt.”
“Minu, why?” As they moved into the hall the room filled with applause and digital cameras began to flash, capturing the moment of his surprised look forever. The statue was accurate in facial detail, but the figure was much taller in proportion than Aaron's one hundred seventy-five centimeters. He was leaning back slightly, looking upwards with one hand outstretched towards the window and the stars outside.
He was still shaking his head and trying to speak when Gregg came toward them. Faye was just behind him, resplendent in a green floor length dress that set off her blonde hair perfectly. Gregg wore his Chosen dress uniform, blood red piping down arms and legs, three gleaming gold stars on his cuffs. Aaron shook off his annoyance to shake his friend’s hand. “So,” Gregg said and ges
tured towards the bigger-than-life size sculpture, “do we call you Zephram Cochran now?”
Aaron's face changed from smile to frown in a second. When he placed the old Earth origin of the name, a little anger flashed there. “It wasn't my idea,” he said and shot a couple daggers at his wife before detaching himself and heading for the bar.
“At least we're not going to have to shoot him with a phaser,” Minu quipped and shrugged.
“I knew the pose was too familiar,” Gregg laughed. Faye looked confused but grinned anyway. She always enjoyed the way the two men went at each other. So like kids, she often thought. “I guess the Cochran sculpture wasn't such a great idea.”
“I thought it was hilarious.” Minu turned and saw Pip standing there, a plate piled high with shrimp in one hand, a glass of mead in the other.
“You know those shrimp cost forty credits a kilo?” Pip shrugged as he munched and Minu laughed. “Feels like old home week.”
“How else would it feel?” Cherise asked. Minu hadn't seen her come up from behind. They both laughed and hugged.
“You know, I really miss the old days.” The friends all exchanged nods.
“You ever wish we could just take off out in the frontier for a little side trip?” Gregg asked. Faye looked away but Minu couldn't help but smile, and give a little sigh.
“I never liked field work until we didn't do it anymore,” Pip commented around a mouthful of expensive shrimp. Gregg shrugged, he was the only one among them that still got all the field work he wanted. “So now that you’re going to be stinking rich, what are you going to do with all that money?”
Minu shrugged. First she didn't know if all the work would convert to any real wealth. The intricacies of finance were a bit beyond her. And second, she'd never had a lot of use for money anyway. As Chosen most of her needs were taken care of. The only significant thing she'd ever bought was her aerocar; her cabin was something she'd inherited from her father. Stinking rich?
