by T I WADE
Mars knew that there should be at least ten times that amount in The Pig’s Snout. Ryan had told him, and it was virtually impossible for anybody to steal it. They would need a full spacesuit to enter the old cavern.
After dessert, the room relaxed. Everything, Lunar Richmond reckoned, was going according to Ryan’s plan. Ryan had foreseen much of what was happening and had been said over lunch, apart from the crowd waiting on the North American continent for the return of Joanne Dithers. Even she was shocked at the news.
It was still rest time for several of the astronauts, especially the ones needing to regain strength, and the meeting was to be convened again as the sun was about to set. The average daytime temperatures, often over 100 degrees, were still taxing on the thin astronaut bodies.
For years they had been used to softer temperatures in the high sixties, low seventies, and the energy-stealing constant pulls on the human body had been from near zero to nearly half of what was down here on Earth.
Saturn still felt like she had a “brick” in her stomach, the way she had described how heavy her body felt to her parents on her last visit. Mars was already far fitter than she was, being down on Earth days longer. They roomed together and had done so for the last year. It was time to talk about marriage.
“I think since I am already pregnant that we should ask Prime Minister Soames to send in somebody to marry us ASAP,” Saturn suggested, lying on her back on a large bed, nestled in the crook of Mars’ left arm.
“I think so too,” replied Mars, staring up at the ceiling.
“Also, it will get the other girls off my back,” added Saturn. “Every day, I feel that they want to ask me whether we are still an item. We might as well put any ideas they have to rest.”
“Maybe the Prime Minister should allow some young good-looking male aircrew to help us here. I’m sure interesting young pilots should entice our lady astronauts to look further afield than what we have here at the moment. Dr. Walls, Bob Mathews and I are the only single old-enough guys here at the moment,” joked Mars.
“Quite an interesting selection,” joked Saturn. “One young, juicy and tender fruitcake and two old fruitcakes with experience all over them.”
“That is not nice, Saturn. One day you will have young astronauts or space cadets looking at you like an old fruitcake,” replied her husband-to-be.
Three hours later, the crew who had met over lunch rejoined the whole crew for a barbeque by the pool area. The decreasing temperature, still above 100, was continuing to tax the older crewmembers, and the ones who had met over lunch headed back into the veranda room for casual conversation. Joanne Dithers was the first to make a statement.
“Ladies and gentlemen, my husband and I have discussed all our possible scenarios peacefully together during this afternoon. I would like to state that with Ms. Collins’—and Canada’s—help along with the help of the Australian Prime Minister, and with my mentor, Martin Brusk, obtaining backing from other important countries in Europe, I would like to officially run to be the next President of the United States of America.”
Everybody in the veranda room stood and applauded the feisty young lady as she sat down. Everybody in the crew who knew Joanne and understood her destiny knew that it was the way Joanne should continue her life. It took some time for the noise and congratulations to cease. Then Saturn Jones made the next statement.
“Thank you all. Give me a minute please. Captain Mars Noble has asked me to marry him. I would like to become his wife. Prime Minister Soames, we are not of any particular religion, but we both believe in God. Could you arrange somebody to fly over and marry us? Like maybe tomorrow, or at least Saturday?” Again there was standing applause, and word headed to the outside congregation that it was actually going to happen, for real!
Mars Noble blushed and accepted the pats on the back along with all the noisy retributions, whoops and jokes when the jealous astronauts told him what to expect when marrying a member of the Jones family.
He also had something to say to the group, as he had met for half an hour with Saturn, Lunar, Pluto Katherine, Captain Pete and Bob Mathews. Mars had suggested an idea of allowing the Australian Air Force to base a few pilots and new aircraft on the island to give the Astermine astronauts more experience in atmospheric flight. The group had agreed to allow four pilots and mechanics to join them on the base for a one-month period for flying lessons.
The suggestion of Australians living on base pleased Prime Minister Soames, and like any Australian, he joked with the astronauts that there would be an endless line of men wanting to spend a month with such a group of pretty girls.
Saturn piped up that all the men should be single, and that got her a second round of rousing applause and much laughter from the others.
As the beers went down, the party loosened up and the food, the last of Bob’s fresh fish grilled on foil, was rapidly consumed. The temperature dropped slightly to reasonable settings, much was said and there was a lot of new comradery as everyone enjoyed themselves.
Prime Minister Soames and Martin Brusk were going home the next morning. Ms. Collins decided to stay another day to discuss Joanne’s decision with her. It certainly wasn’t going to be a walk-over in Washington. She also told everybody that the current U.S. President still had just over a year of his term left, and that was perfect to set up a new election campaign.
Mars and Saturn woke up to one of the two jets taking off just after dawn the next morning. Mars had a groggy head. Saturn felt much better, having had only one beer due to her pregnancy.
Over breakfast in the veranda room they were joined by Bob Mathews and his two crew ladies. Lunar Richmond arrived a few minutes after the three sat down and joined the table. As usual, the two robots brought in the breakfasts as they were verbally ordered.
Mars was just like his father, always worried about security, and stopped any discussion while the robots were in the room.
“Mars, laddie,” stated Bob as the second robot server left the room and the door automatically closed behind it, “there could be a dozen bugs in here if anybody wanted to listen in to our conversations.”
“Not with the scrambling devices we each have on us,” replied Mars seriously, pulling a small box the size of a pack of cards out of his flight suit pocket. “Maybe there are new gadgets down here, but believe you me, Bob, we had stacks of time up there to produce new gadgets as well. This little box was put together by Boris on my father’s orders. No bugs within a large area will pick up anything other than static if one of these are around. The reason I don’t say anything while our little metal friends are in the room is that they could be recording our conversation, not listening in like a bug.” Bob rolled his eyes, but he was used to the cloak and dagger stuff around Astermine personnel.
“I liked our idea about offering a few outsiders the chance to join you here on the island for a month, Mars,” Bob continued. “I don’t think you have much to hide down here. Ryan kept all his secrets up in space, so I think that you working with outsiders here gives the Australian government the feeling that you are willing to work with them.”
“I believe my husband-to-be wants the Astermine female astronauts to realize that he isn’t the only good-looking man around here,” remarked Saturn, smiling at Bob and then at her best friend and adversary, Lunar. Lunar tried to ignore Saturn’s bad judgement on humor and thought about breakfast. With all these yummy treats not seen aboard America One or at The Martian Club Retreat for many years, it was hard to make one’s mind up.
“Don’t worry about Saturn, Bob. Her humor is about as bad as her father’s,” stated Lunar and winked at Mars while she said it, just to get back at her best friend. The two older girls, Beth and Monica, laughed at the catty rivalry of the two young female astronauts.
Mary Collins arrived with Joanne Dithers Roo and joined them. “A good Canadian/Australian morning to all of you,” she stated as Bob Mathews and Mars got up to pull in two more chairs.
“G�
��day!” responded the Astermine crew, copying the funny new Aussie accent.
“I’m very excited,” stated a bubbling Joanne to the others.
“Better you than me, kid,” replied Lunar, smiling at Joanne.
“Better you than me too, kid,” remarked Saturn. “I hope you are a good politician. Maybe you can change my father’s favorite saying.”
“‘The only good politician is a dead politician’,” remarked Mars, having heard Jonesy’s favorite saying being told to him at many briefings on the bridge.
“Yes, I’ve heard Jonesy say that often,” laughed Bob Mathews. “He said it to one of the U.S. Presidents when he had F-16 pilots chasing him as he headed into orbit in SB-III years ago. Sorry, Ms. Collins.”
“No insult taken, Mr. Mathews, young Saturn. My father even told me that General Jones said it to him, straight to his face a couple of times,” laughed Mary Collins. “Of course he was directing the remark towards another politician, not towards my father at the time. Off the record, I do not consider myself to be a politician. Minister of Defense is more of a job promotion, not a political appointment.”
Breakfast was merry, and everyone headed off in different directions. Mars Noble went with Bob and the girls to check out the fishing boat. It was time to go fishing again, but Mars wanted them to wait a few days so that everybody could attend the wedding ceremony.
Saturn got word that Saturday would be the day, in two days’ time. A few guests and a man of the cloth were flying in for the weekend.
Once Lunar had checked out what she had wanted to, she located Mars to discuss whether any of the shuttles should return for Saturday. It didn’t seem that an orbital visual above them was so necessary anymore.
“Well, Ryan told me to make 100 percent sure that we are safe, and then some,” Mars told her as they walked down the hot runway away from any possible listening bugs. “It would be interesting to get some of those new autopilots Martin Brusk offered us. Then we could turn the shuttles into drones and control them from down here.”
“I think we will have some soon. Martin is returning for the ceremony and hopefully might give you something as a wedding present,” joked Lunar. “But as commander of this mission to Earth, I believe the risk of something or someone wanting to attack us has diminished, enough to test the waters and have no craft in orbit for a short 48-hour period. Of course nobody but us will know that. Only we know what is up here. Nobody will see the two craft enter inside their shields, and even if they did, they don’t know how many more we have up there.”
“Plus they don’t know what our dummy craft, the old cargo units we have up there inside their blue shields, are equipped with,” added Mars. “To anybody who is following our movements, it will look like we still have spacecraft orbiting. Also, if we offer to take up a first cargo for Soames, he will at least feel his friendship is working. I reckon that we bring down the two shuttles and once the weekend is over, get two of the rested astronauts to go up in SB-II after we ask if there is any load ready to take up.”
“By Monday afternoon at the latest,” suggested Lunar.
Mars nodded. He knew that they were safe. Very few, if anybody on Earth, were tracking their launches or knew how many craft Astermine had in and around the planet. Soames had stated that he had seen six ships at one time on the radar. That still worried him, as the only time he believed that their ships had all their shields down was when they had picked up Captain Pete. Even the Matt ship he was piloting had its shield down for a short time when he had lifted off SB-III so that Captain Pete could be connected, and that had only been for several minutes before his shield was re-activated.
“You know, Lunar, I still can’t figure out why Soames told us that he saw six ships arriving. The only time we had our shields down was when we hooked onto Captain Pete. Weren’t all our shields down for the same period of time?”
“No, while you were launching the Matt craft, I ordered SB-I and Astermine One to extend their shields. I was actually worried that somebody might be counting us. At that time, we had eight blips on radar including “The Office” and your Matt ship. Two were shielded at different times, so that was when they counted six ships. Remember, Mars, they knew about our three shielded craft orbiting Earth. One was shot down, and I believe that they are monitoring the other two craft with cameras from their satellites above. If they were watching our approach, they would still have seen six ships. Captain Pete’s was docked on SB-III and you were inside SB-II’s shield. They don’t know that we have more ships, and nobody has counted the ships in our hangars, unless that little robot is feeding back information.”
“Well said, Lunar,” replied Mars. “I’m going to check up or blow a few circuits with my buddy to see if that is how they are counting our arrivals and departures.”
“Well, the three arriving Astermine craft would not have been recorded by the little robot. We put those away ourselves,” continued Lunar as they reached the hangar area again. “Unless it has a camera, it hasn’t recorded all our arrivals.”
“Jones… I want to talk to the robot,” stated Mars to a bewildered Lunar, and suddenly the tow robot headed out at speed towards them.
“Do you want your aircraft, Mr. Jones?” Asked the robot.
“Negative, I want a list of all the landings and takeoffs on this runway during the last month. Do you have any video feed recorded?”
“I do not, Mr. Jones, my camera system was disconnected five weeks, three days ago. Do you want a printout on paper? I have no way of downloading the information to any servers. My imail was disconnected at the same time, five weeks three days ago.”
“Paper will do, thank you,” replied Mars.
As the robot headed back after printing out a long list on a sheet of paper, both Mars and Lunar looked through the list. All aircraft the robot had moved was there, even the dozen supply aircraft that had arrived before Mars landed. All landings were recorded except the three Astermine craft and Martin Brusk’s aircraft which also hadn’t had wheeled landing gear.
The list also showed that as far as the robot was concerned, nobody was checking up on them. An hour later Lunar ordered the two shuttles to re-enter twenty four hours apart.
Mary Collins stayed even longer for Saturday and had a wedding dress flown in for Saturn once her measurements had been taken. It arrived late Friday night, and the girls spent that evening helping the semi-flustered Saturn Jones get ready. Bob had stayed and the men had a bachelor’s party by the pool. They toasted all the men somewhere in the heavens above them, knowing it would have been better if the bride could have been given away by her father.
The shuttles landed secretly and Mars had short-circuited the robot for the two landings. The shuttles had been put away by the old tractor which could only be driven by Captain Pete or Bob Mathews. The youngsters hadn’t learned how to drive a stick shift!
Late Friday night guests began arriving. A party was begun for the visitors. On a warm but rainy and windswept day, Saturn Jones became Saturn Noble. With much merriment the day was a happy, successful occasion.
Bob Mathews was proud to give the bride away, and Captain Pete was honored to be Best Man.
It was a sobering two days for Lunar Richmond, as it was the first time since anybody could remember that not one shuttle patrolled the space above them.
Mary Collins had had her husband and two young daughters fly in with the dress. Martin Brusk brought his wife and youngest daughter with him. Apart from the various pilots, the group were the only ones on the island. Mary’s husband shocked Supreme Ruler Roo and all the young Matts, when the largest man ever seen walked off the aircraft. Roo put his hand to his mouth when the giant of a man walked up to him and bowed. Roo, one of the smallest people on the airfield, was introduced to the giant by Mary. Mary saw Roo’s shock and laughed.
“Bob is an offensive tackle on our country’s football team. He is nearly seven foot tall, weighs more than I can carry, and is as harmless as you are, Sup
reme Commander.”
Everybody met everybody during introductions. Even the pilots who had flown in the Prime Minister’s aircraft were introduced as guests for the weekend.
Since the two young Australian pilots were male, they were paired up as escorts with Pluto Katherine Richmond and Penelope Pitt. The two Canadian pilots, also both male, were paired up with the two Israeli Air Force female pilots, as there were no others on the airfield their age.
Pluto Katherine Richmond was very impressed with her “guest.” He seemed a nice young man, six foot tall, seven years her senior at 24, single, blond, with the most vivid blue eyes she had ever seen. Likewise, Penelope seemed enthralled by her pilot. Only Lunar Richmond was an older astronaut without a date, something Dr. Walls noticed, and he offered to be her beau for the occasion.
Saturday turned into Sunday, and it was a late breakfast with the wind and rain still not giving up. The radios blared around the airfield just after breakfast as somebody suddenly asked for flight instructions. Mars was the first to reach the control room to hear the weird-sounding request.
“Astermine Field, this is India Alpha Foxtrot 787 dash 9, a Boeing 787 out of Tel Aviv for Martin Brusk. We are thirty minutes out and are wanting to speak to Mr. Brusk, over,” stated what Mars thought to be a very mechanical-sounding pilot.
“Roger, India Alpha Foxtrot, copied that. Wait one, over.” Mars ran out, nearly cannoning into Martin on his way into the command center. “We are expecting company?” Mars asked, thinking about all Astermine’s firepower within a hundred yards of the command center.
“Your wedding present, young man, and the aircraft is not landing, but will be dropping a package by parachute on its way into Sydney. We don’t have that many aircraft with the 787’s extended range that can take off from Tel Aviv, fly over Darwin, drop your present here and then fly into Sydney. These are the last aircraft we ever received from the United States, fifteen years ago. Also, young Mars, it is a drone, a transport drone. The aircraft has no pilots aboard, only small lightweight robots that do all the loading and unloading. We reconstructed our military 787 fleet with cargo doors that open in the center floor of the aircraft between the wheels, and cargo, up to a pallet of supplies, can be ejected while in the air. Your present is not so big, but the plane will fly over at 1,000 feet and you will see our modern way of supplying our troops in the field.”
