The outer hatch of the shuttle was surrounded by a specialized suction-connector that had been successfully latched onto a portion of the station’s hull. The gasket enshrouded a small porthole hatchway on the belly of the station, and was beginning to form an airlock seal between the two metallic objects. The shuttle’s hatch was located in the center of its passenger compartment’s roof, and it emitted low, mechanical noises while it adjusted its parameters to obtain a secure connection to the space station.
After a moment, the noise stopped, and the pilot again spoke into his intercom. “Okay, gentlemen, we have an umbilical connection. It’s up to you from here.”
Michael leapt quickly out of his harness, followed instantly by Dylan and Stephen. He moved weightlessly toward the lockers at the far end of the cargo hold. “Alright people,” Michael said. “We’ve got a short time table to keep, so get ready to board.”
The men quickly slipped into their single-unit space suits and made all the correct fastenings and buckles to create the necessary airtight seal.
“Hey, Dylan,” one officer beckoned. “Can you give me a hand here?”
“Yeah, sure,” Dylan said, leaning over to aid a comrade with his air supply.
Michael watched until Dylan was busy with the tank, and he then floated over to where Stephen was suiting up.
“Hey,” Michael said, tapping Stephen on the shoulder. “Hold this for me, until we get back.”
Stephen looked down to see Michael’s outstretched fingers holding a gold ring.
“Why?” he asked, puzzled.
“Just hold it,” Michael said, placing the ring in Stephen’s reluctant hand. He turned and moved away without another word.
Stephen turned the wedding band over in his fingers. He did not dare put it on his own hand. He quickly tucked the ring into his pants pocket and buttoned it shut before putting the rest of his suit on.
Michael floated across the cabin and stopped against the far wall. There, he opened a mesh cage containing the rifles.
After finally attaching their visored helmets, each of the men proceeded orderly to the rear to receive their arms. When the last rifle was distributed and the last helmet attached, the men stood at attention, (as much as they could in zero gravity) and waited for Michael’s command.
“Ramses, Duncan, are you two ready?” Michael asked.
The two soldiers, carrying electronic equipment and portable computers rather than weapons, responded in unison, “Yes, sir.”
“Alright, men,” Michael began. “Let’s do this.”
Joel pressed a switch on his control panel, and a pair of metal doors slid together, sealing off the cockpit from the passenger cabin.
Michael moved swiftly toward the hatchway at the center of the compartment and turned the seal. With a hiss, the lid swung down into the cargo hold. The portal to the space station waited next. Michael tried to turn the metallic knob, but he soon motioned for the nearest soldier to help him. The two joined forces and, with a loud screech, the rusty gears eventually turned. The door pushed open inside the station.
Michael peered within.
The bowels of the space station were dark and laden with control panels and circuits that had not been used for decades, as indicated by their crystallized surfaces. Some panels (the ones operated by remote from the planet’s surface) blinked occasionally like eerie beacons in the black interior of the station. When Michael moved aside to let Stephen and the others enter, the light from their lamps illuminated the room and revealed several sections of control panels above the place where they were floating. It was obvious that the station was deserted - much to everyone’s elation. Once inside, Michael felt confident that it was safe to proceed.
With a motion from the Commander, the scanning crew entered and began to look over the various consoles with instruments that bleeped as they located certain elements or circuits. Stephen and Michael moved aside and watched the scanning crew perform its duty. The two men had no way of contributing to the task at hand. They only stayed out of the way and browsed over the station’s interior.
The station was composed of two cylindrical levels, each of which was ten meters tall with a hollow center that allowed for passage between the floors.
Stephen pushed off the deck and moved up to the second floor. There were tiny portholes scattered about the electronic room that looked out over the planet below and the infinite stars above. Through one, Stephen saw the tiny speck of the second space station, shimmering in the sunlight far away.
All of the men floated freely about and used hand holds in the walls, wherever they could find them, to keep their bodies stationary while they worked.
Michael came up to join Stephen. As he floated by, he grabbed onto Stephen’s space suit to stop his ascension, and gazed out the window alongside him.
Stephen looked at Michael and spoke into the com-link in his helmet. “You know, I always believed I would die in space… well, I mean in the ship. The very first thought I had, after stepping onto the planet surface, was how glad I was that I would never have to go back into space again. Never have to come back to this cold, empty place.” He smiled. “But here I am.”
Michael returned his smile and glanced down at the men below. “I know what you mean, son. But it’s good that you’re here now. You’ve become a symbol of hope to these men and all of their families back on the planet. They look up to you because you are bold and wise before your time. Just your presence here makes these men unafraid of what they’re doing.” He motioned down to them. “Just look. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be here now fighting this war. Instead, we’d all be dead, or running for the rest of our lives in fear. You showed these people a passion for life they never knew they had before. Now they seek justice because they know they have been wronged, and that’s the only way they’ll ever survive.”
Stephen looked out the window again. “It’s not me that gives these people hope, Michael. It’s you. I only do things that I believe you would approve of, because from what I’ve seen, you’re the only man left with a human sense of reality. You’re the only truly rational man left.” He looked back at Michael. “Why didn’t you try to become the next Governor instead of me?”
Michael smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m just a bad public speaker.”
The two men laughed heartily.
“Commander, Governor,” Ramses said. “We’ve found our patch-in point.”
Stephen nodded to the soldier. “Good work. Begin the connection.”
“Yes, sir,” Ramses replied, and then pushed off toward his waiting computer equipment.
After a few moments, Stephen and Michael went over to where the two men were working.
Duncan noticed their presence and began explaining what he was doing as he fidgeted with circuits and switches. “The station computer is receiving a signal from the planet. It looks like they’re setting up to fire again very soon. This console will override the signal coming from the remote receiver on the station’s C.P.U. It’ll block all the alien’s signals from the planet and input what we tell it too.”
“Good,” Michael said. “We’ll need it to fire these thrusters so we can move the reflector into position.” Michael pointed on Duncan’s monitor to a series of small canisters on the side of the station, opposite the reflector.
“Yes, sir,” Ramses replied, as he snipped the last of his circuits. “We have control now.” Ramses touched a button on his com-link and cleared his throat. “Captain, we’re going to fire the thrusters. Be ready for a slight jolt.”
“Affirmative,” came Joel’s electronic reply.
“Here we go,” Ramses said. With the press of a button, the satellite’s thrusters roared to life, and the whole station began to rumble and shift.
“That’s it,” Ramses continued. “Looks like it’s working so far. The thrusters should settle down automatically when it comes into position.”
Michael smiled. “Good work, men.”
�
��Thank you, sir,” Ramses said. “But there’s one other thing. We won’t be able to stay here on the satellite when the weapon hits it. The beam is composed of energy, but it also carries mass and inertia. It has force behind it. We’ve tilted this station back at such a sharp angle, that I’m afraid it will be destroyed by the force of the beam’s impact.”
Michael grimaced. “Will the beam still reflect?”
Ramses shrugged sheepishly. “I hope so. This will be the only chance we ever have at this.”
Stephen nodded. “Well, that’s the best we can do. We’ve done all we can. Thank you, gentlemen.”
“Thank you, sir,” both men said. They began pushing their way back to the entranceway.
“Joel,” Michael spoke into his com-link. “Get ready to disembark. The system’s in motion, and were coming back in.”
“That’s good, Commander,” Joel replied. “Byron just messaged us. He says the tower is beginning to show activity. It’s aiming toward the sky as we speak.”
Michael smiled at Stephen. “Nothing else to do now but go home and pray.”
Stephen nodded and they began to scramble back down the dark tunnel.
The last of the men ambled their way through the tiny hatch at the bottom of the space station and into the shuttlecraft airlock. The bulky white space suits did not allow for much movement, so each person passed slowly through, taking care not to scrape their suits or air-packs on any loose metal around the opening. Only Stephen and Michael remained as Dylan carefully pushed himself through the port.
“After you, boy,” Michael said through his com-link.
Stephen grinned and motioned to the opening with a gloved hand. “Age before beauty,” he said.
Michael gave Stephen a shove. “Get in there.”
Stephen knew there was not much time left before the weapon would fire again, so he gladly obliged, and lowered himself through the hatch. Just as he passed through, a tiny clang echoed through the belly of the station and then resounded in the shuttlecraft. The rumble of the thrusters stopped immediately, and all was quiet.
Stephen looked up and saw the computer console they had brought floating freely in the station above, disconnected from its patch into the station’s computer. It had gotten free and floated into the wall.
Stephen’s face grew grim. He knew there would be no time to escape if he stayed and fixed the problem. But he did not care. An image of Kirin flashed through his mind’s eye, and without a second thought, he lunged back up at the portal opening.
Before he could reach it, the hatch slammed shut in his face, and the locking wheel began turning to seal it in place. Stephen looked up through the portal window and saw Michael’s sad, but bold, face behind his spacesuit helmet.
Their eyes met. For a moment, time stood still.
Then, through the glass, Michael mouthed out four words: “Take care of her.”
Stephen was heartbroken. There was no time to argue, and he could do nothing but nod slowly in agreement. Before Stephen could say anything in return, Michael had already turned around and, without looking back, disappeared into the blackness of the space station.
Stephen looked around and saw an astonished crew, standing in silence with their eyes fixed on him. He quickly turned around again and began to seal off the shuttle’s hatchway.
“What are you doing?!” Dylan screamed. He reached for Stephen’s arms, but the Governor quickly shoved Dylan back against the shuttle wall.
“There’s no time!” Stephen shouted, resuming his task. “Someone, tell the pilot to take off!” he ordered. But no one moved.
Dylan looked up at the other men. None of them were willing to take either side.
Once the airlock was sealed, Stephen removed his helmet and pushed himself toward the doorway to the cockpit. He unlocked the sliding doors and thrust them open as he lunged inside.
“We’re in. Get us out of here!” Stephen shouted to Joel, who immediately began pressing switches on the control panel.
“Yes, sir,” he replied. The entire shuttle shook for an instant as its magnetic hold on the station was broken. And then they were free, floating in the emptiness of space again.
Michael scrambled up to the portable console as quickly as he could. He grabbed it with one hand, but lost his grip. In a panic, he visualized the tower firing at that instant, and he grabbed the console with both hands. He then kicked off of the wall and landed into the opposite wall’s computer terminal. He fumbled with the wires for a moment before finally returning them to each of their respective, color-coded sockets. The console beeped once. Then, the station’s thrusters resumed firing - putting the station back on course.
He breathed out loudly in his helmet and felt sweat dripping off of his lips. In the midst of the horrifying knowledge that he would soon be dead, Michael felt strangely at ease with the universe. He was calm and unafraid as he watched the planet below through one of the station’s portholes. His thoughts were now of his daughter and the newfound son he was leaving behind.
Then, a new thought entered Michael’s mind - one he had saved for many years. “I know you’ve been waiting,” he whispered.
In the distance, Michael saw a tiny red speck come into view as the beam reflected off of the first station. It then grew enormous in size as it neared the next station. The whole galaxy seemed to glow red, and Michael grabbed onto a metal strut with all his might.
The beam smashed into the station’s reflector, bending it inward as it bounced off toward the planet below. The framework of the reflector snapped under the shock and punctured the station’s hull. In only a few seconds, the hole exploded outward and the station collapsed on itself. Without ever realizing it, Michael was crushed to pieces by the debris from the implosion. When the thrusters impacted each other, a brief fireball flickered, and then was gone. Whatever portions of the station that were left intact would soon be scorched in the atmosphere and gone forever.
The shuttle rocked violently as it skipped across the atmosphere. Stephen and the other men scrambled to get into their seats before being slammed against the wall. The last of them fastened their safety harnesses just as the shuttle began shaking twice as roughly as before. To the men, the whole world became a blur from the harsh motion. The shuttle finally penetrated the atmosphere and shot down through the clouds at supersonic speeds. As the craft slowed to a controllable decent, Stephen looked out his window and saw a tiny explosion in the sky above. He knew his mentor was gone.
Dylan watched him with fiery eyes.
In the valley where the alien’s massive tower stood, tall and mighty among the weak mountains, an unusual red glow appeared from somewhere behind the clouds. In a flash, the beam, which had been shot into space only moments before, returned to its home - a herald of doom.
A loud boom resounded across the land, and the tower rocked from the explosion.
Kirin smiled brightly as the monitor displaying the cockpit’s camera transmission came back into focus, and she could see the relief on the pilots’ faces. One of them raised a proud thumb up to the camera lens in a sign of “okay.”
“They did it!” someone shouted, and the control room was immediately bathed in cheering and laughter. The shouts rang loud in the buzzing room, and traveled through the hallways of the building.
Byron watched nervously on his own monitor. He was reluctant to celebrate so quickly. The surveillance camera near the tower suddenly pinged back an image of an enormous explosion at one of the structure’s gigantic base supports. All around the tower, trees were laid flat as the shock wave soared across the valley. It came closer and closer to the camera eye, until the image finally turned to static.
“Direct hit!” Byron shouted.
Kirin’s smile faded and she closed her eyes, thankful that it was done. Her heart warmed with joy at the thought of her father’s triumphant return to the city.
However, somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she felt a twinge of worry. She hoped that brave, young Ste
phen was all right too. Kirin could sense that the boy was a hero in the making, and she felt all apprehension towards him beginning to melt away. She smiled again and watched the pilots on the monitor in front of her.
A joyous technician pushed the control room door open and raced down the hallway to the parted balcony doors. Outside, the brisk morning air rushed through the doorway and spilled into the halls, filling the entire floor with the planet’s glorious morning wind. The technician only slowed when he ran into the rail at the end of the patio and shouted, “They did it! They did it!”
In a vocal explosion, the crowd of colonists in the streets below threw up their hands in celebration and cheered a victorious cheer.
The city was alive with joy.
3
On a hillside facing the dreaded alien tower, the shuttle crew rested against the hull of their ship as they watched the structure collapse. The sheer size of the edifice dealt it a terribly slow fall, and some of the strike crew began to grow tired of standing. But Stephen did not notice any fatigue in his legs, for his torn heart was absorbing all his attention. He felt some comfort, however, at the demise of their enemy. The creatures had been beaten.
A few stray fragments fell quickly as they broke off of the top portion of the tower and twirled down to the trees below. Some delayed pops and crackles from the degrading framework reached the men’s ears. The mass of the tower bowed ever closer to the ground at a painfully slow rate. The leg that was struck had been severed neatly in two, and the beam had continued onward through it. The energy bolt finally came to an impact in the hind foundational support structure, loosing the rear of the tower from its hold in the earth. And so, the tower had begun its long-since-merited decent to the ground.
Stephen was afraid that the other men would see him crying, but he realized he was shedding no tears. Somehow, that seemed inappropriate at Michael’s death. He deserved a hero’s death, and Stephen had no trouble holding back the tears out of respect for his friend and master.
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