Skywave

by K Patrick Donoghue

  The room erupted with cheers. Over the next ten minutes, there were plenty of laughs, high fives and backslaps. Among Morgan and his fellow Cetus Prime controllers, tears were shed and bear hugs exchanged. As the euphoria began to subside, Morgan broke away from the group and pulled Carillo aside.

  “You know that whole Skywalker thing?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “We’re even now.”

  She smiled and wrapped her arms around him.

  As they hugged, Morgan’s thoughts turned to Amato, Ajay, Dante, Kiera and his other colleagues at Mayaguana and a sudden surge of remorse flowed through his psyche. They should be here to experience this! Then remorse turned to anger as his mind filled with visions of Avery, Nick and Christine. What a terrible way to die. Marooned on an icy chunk of rock. He let go of Carillo, his face stern, and turned to Davenport. “Time to get to work.”

  Mission Control

  A3rospace Industries Command and Control Center

  Mayaguana Island, The Bahamas

  November 2, 2018

  With the drones running low on battery power, Kiera had ordered the flight controller to land them on the beach. Although their departure left the staff at Mayaguana blind to the Marines’ movements, the team still had one pair of eyes keeping them apprised of what was happening outside the building: Kiera was still connected to Minnie Cohen via radio.

  The ninety-one-year-old ham radio enthusiast switched back and forth between television stations and relayed new developments to Kiera as they were reported. Kiera, in turn, piped updates to the rest of the Mayaguana team via the center’s intercom system. With each new report, spirits lifted.

  First, there had been confirmation from Minnie that Kiera’s statement had been broadcast by WNN and then repeated on other networks. Then, they learned one of their photos of Nuada crater had made it onto the airwaves. Where the network had gotten the photo, WNN didn’t report, leaving Kiera and the others to wonder who had passed it to them. Minnie also shared the statement from A3I’s COO calling for an end to the siege. Additional demands for their release came from various quarters, including congressional leaders, aerospace industry executives and prominent scientists. The most compelling had come from Dennis Pritchard:

  Mr. President, this madness must stop. The blinders must come off, the truth told. We are not alone in the universe. We have known it for too long and said nothing, choosing to ignore the presence of alien life at the very edge of our atmosphere instead of embracing the possibilities presented by the discovery of these beings five decades ago. We should be silent no more. We owe it to the world’s citizens and the brave crew of Cetus Prime — Avery Lockett, Nick Reed and Christine Baker. They gave their lives to better our understanding of these beings. It is time for these astronauts to emerge from the cloak of obscurity we draped over their legacy. Release Augustus Amato and his team at Mayaguana. Suspend efforts to block them from sharing their historic discoveries on Callisto and allow them to continue their exploration free of interference. Be the man who ends fifty years of disavowal. Be the man who opens our eyes to a new world, a new future.

  By the time Pritchard’s statement had disseminated around the globe, four of the world’s news networks had landed reporters and camera operators on Mayaguana. Held back by the Marines from approaching A3I’s center, they set up live feeds from the airport while their network heads pressured the Pentagon and the White House for access to the field commander managing the siege.

  In Washington, the White House, Pentagon and NASA press corps besieged government officials, on and off the record, seeking information and comments about the siege, UMOs and Cetus Prime. Other reporters descended upon Pritchard’s home. He stepped out briefly to tell them he had no further comment. “My statement speaks for itself.”

  At 4:13 a.m. EDT, Minnie radioed Kiera. “South Beach Sweetie calling Mayaguana. Something’s happening!”

  “What? What’s happening, Minnie?” Kiera asked.

  “Hold on…the man on the TV is talking…he says the Marines have been ordered to withdraw! And there’s a message scrolling on the screen. It says the president will address the nation at 9 a.m. It’s over, Kiera! It’s over. You’re free!”

  Within minutes, buzzes, chimes, rings and pings sounded out all around Mission Control as cell service was restored. Kiera checked her phone. It buzzed and buzzed as hundreds of accumulated call, text and voice mail notifications were received. Around her, many people were cheering while others cried. Calls were made, texts were returned. Hugs were shared.

  Kiera first read the messages from her mother. She had sent a flurry of texts throughout the ordeal with messages of encouragement. As Kiera read them, it was hard to wipe away tears fast enough to prevent her vision from blurring. The last one read, “Be strong, baby girl! Calvary’s on the way! Your Dad and Uncle Ronnie chartered a plane. They’re on their way to Mayaguana to kick some ass and get you and your friends out of there!”

  She laughed, her fingers trembling as she tried to type a reply. Before she finished, two new texts appeared. The first was from Helen Brock. It read, “I was SO wrong to doubt you.” The second was from Dante. Kiera clicked on the message. “Can you get someone to open the front door? Ajay and I left our badges inside.”

  21: DATA DUMP

  Telescope Control Center, Green Bank Observatory

  Green Bank, West Virginia

  November 2, 2018

  In a private office in the GBT control center, Davenport and Chu met with Morgan to discuss a string of odd data they’d extracted from Cetus Prime’s computers. Davenport led off the meeting by reviewing a systems diagnostics report provided by the ship’s main computer. “Only two subsystems are currently active, communications and main cabin power management.”

  Well, I’ll be damned. Augie was right, Morgan thought. Amato had theorized the crew had shut off everything except for the communications system and the source of its power — the nickel-cadmium batteries charged by the ship’s solar panels. “What’s strange about that, Bobby? The crew devoted its power to keep the beacon active.”

  “Nothing,” Davenport said. “It’s the data from the other subsystems that are screwy.”

  “Such as?”

  “Well, the first thing that stands out is the systems activity on April 30, 1995. They powered off the entire ship, every system, for about four hours. Then they turned everything back on…everything but the engines and comms.”

  “Hmm…when did they repower the engines?”

  “They didn’t. The engine management system recorded catastrophic sensor faults across the board. Cetus’ engines never came back online,” Chu said. “Yet, somehow the ship traveled three hundred million miles from Mars to Callisto in ninety days.”

  “That seems to confirm UMOs did attack the ship a second time, knocking out the engines,” Morgan said. “It’s also a pretty clear indication the UMOs were involved in Cetus Prime’s trip to Callisto. What about the reaction control system? Did they have thrusters?”

  “Yep, the RCS system was active until August 2, 1995. The same day they turned off all the other subsystems except for comms and main cabin power,” Davenport said.

  “Did they use the RCS thrusters after April 30?” Morgan asked.

  “Sporadically.”

  “What about the pallet? Were there sensor faults for any pallet instruments on April 30 as well?”

  “No,” said Chu, “Some of the instruments were already out from the first UMO attack, but they restored power to all the others with one exception. They didn’t repower Perseus.”

  “Were any of Perseus’ missiles fired before they powered it off?” Morgan asked.

  “No.”

  “Good for you, Avery,” Morgan mumbled.

  Perseus had been a probe anchored on Cetus Prime’s girderlike pallet. It carried EMP missiles that had originally been intended as self-defense weapons in the event Cetus Prime was attacked by UMOs during its mission to search for and
collect debris from Phobos-2 and Mars Observer.

  But Perseus’ mission was changed after the first UMO attack on Cetus Prime. General Ferris, the head of U.S. Space Command, had convinced the president to authorize deployment of Cetus Prime’s two other probes, Andromeda and CPO, to lure a swarm of UMOs. Once accomplished, Perseus was to launch one or more EMP missiles at the swarm in an effort to determine whether the untested missiles were capable of destroying the UMOs.

  The crew and NASA, including Morgan and the mission’s flight director, Dennis Pritchard, had tried to slow roll implementation of Ferris’ plan while they argued against it. But before they were able to appeal to the president, Ferris used the DoD’s station in Cetus Prime’s mission control center to take control of the ship and execute the revised mission. He launched the two probes and the UMOs destroyed them as expected. Then communication was cut with Cetus Prime and NASA never learned what had transpired after losing contact with the ship.

  “Okay,” Morgan said, “I see what went down. When Avery and Christine realized what was happening, they did the only thing they could do — they manually turned off all the ship systems and tried to play dead. But the UMOs came after Cetus Prime anyway and attacked the engines. Even though they were turned off, the engines still would have been pumping out enough radiation for the UMOs to detect.”

  He turned to Davenport. “You said comms were turned off as well?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That makes sense. They would have wanted to prevent Mission Control from retaking command of the ship,” Morgan said. “How long did they leave comms off?”

  “’Til July 25…the day they sent their final transmission. And they turned it back off again after the transmission and comms stayed off until August 2,” Chu said.

  “So, that’s why we couldn’t reach them,” Morgan said. “They were afraid we’d try to take control of the ship again. You said they turned comms back on on August 2. Is that the date they landed on Callisto?”

  “No. They landed four days before that. July 30,” Davenport said.

  “Okay, so that confirms at least one of the crew survived the landing,” Morgan said.

  “Correct,” Davenport said.

  “Well, all the data seems straightforward to me. I don’t see anything odd in what you’ve said so far,” Morgan said.

  “We haven’t gotten to the weird parts yet,” Chu said.

  “Okay, let’s hear ’em.”

  “Well, for one thing, the order of the subsystem shut-offs on August 2 is curious,” Chu said. “They started in the flight deck and moved aft. They bypassed the comms center, then shut down everything in the lab compartment, bypassed the crew quarters, and finished by powering down the pallet control system.”

  Davenport handed Morgan a printout of the diagnostics report. “If you look at the last entry, here, you see they came back two hours after switching off the pallet control system and turned off the crew compartment systems. Environmental controls, biomonitoring, airlock controls, everything.”

  To Morgan, the additional information hinted at Avery’s and Christine’s actions in their final hours. They set up their distress beacon, then methodically shut off unnecessary systems, preserving the crew quarters systems for last. Morgan suspected the purpose of the two-hour delay between powering down the pallet system and crew quarters was to allow Avery and Christine to put on their spacesuits and depressurize the main cabin. Within a few hours after that they would have depleted the oxygen supply in their suits and passed away. Morgan hoped it had been a quick and tranquil end, but suspected it had been neither.

  “Can you tell if they put on their EMUs?” Morgan asked.

  Davenport nodded. “Yes. We have the main computer’s last reports from each subsystem before they were toggled off. The airlock data shows they put on their suits and initiated decompression.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Morgan said. “That means their bodies are probably in the crew quarters. We should prioritize that compartment when we try to reactivate the cameras.”

  Davenport exchanged glances with Chu. “Go ahead, Donnie. You tell him.”

  “Tell me what?” Morgan asked.

  Chu sighed. “I don’t know what to make of it, honestly. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “What doesn’t make sense?” Morgan asked.

  “The airlock sensor data shows the outer airlock door opened after decompress. EVA system data shows life support readings from Avery’s and Christine’s suits outside the ship,” Chu said.

  “Hmm,” Morgan said. After a moment’s reflection, he smiled. “Of course. Explorers to the end.”

  They hadn’t wanted to die curled up inside the ship. They put on their suits, said to hell with it and went outside to look around — at the landscape around them, at the horizon dominated by Jupiter…and the structure inside the crater. That’s what I would have done, Morgan thought. With only a few hours of oxygen in their suits, they wouldn’t have cared about the radiation exposure. We’re here, let’s make the most of it, they’d have said. The first woman to stand on an interstellar body…the first humans to walk on a surface beyond the Earth and Moon.

  Given Callisto’s surface gravity is slightly less than Earth’s moon, they would have had to weigh themselves down with heavy objects from the ship to pull it off, Morgan reckoned. Their EMU suits were not equipped with gravity boots. Or possibly they had used the thrusters from their SAFER packs to push them to the surface long enough to take pictures or record video of the historic firsts.

  “Does the EVA system show how long they were outside before they came back?” Morgan asked.

  Davenport and Chu shook their heads back and forth in unison. Davenport said, “They didn’t come back, Paul. At least, not before power to the crew compartment was turned off.”

  “What? That can’t be right,” Morgan said. “They had to be aboard to turn the systems off.”

  “Your turn, Bobby,” Chu said to Davenport. “Tell him.”

  Davenport scratched his head, averting his eyes from Morgan. “There’s some screwy data, Paul.”

  “Screwy how?” Morgan asked.

  “Well, for one thing, the EVA system showed life support readings from a third suit inside the ship,” Davenport said. “Nick Reed’s suit.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “When we first saw the data, we thought…maybe they kept his body alive even though he was brain dead, then suited him up before they left the ship. You know, so they could all die together,” Davenport said. “But the EVA system shows his suit moving around inside the ship.”

  That made zero sense to Morgan. While it would have been possible to keep Nick’s body alive for a short time after the first UMO attack around Mars rendered his brain lifeless, they didn’t have the medical supplies aboard to feed and care for him for the following three months.

  “No. No way. His brain functions were flatlined,” Morgan said. “Something has to be wrong with the EVA data.”

  “Yeah, that’s our conclusion, too. Christine’s EVA data doesn’t add up, either,” Chu said. “I guess we won’t know for sure until we go through the crew logs. Why don’t we skip ahead and talk about the logs now.”

  “Hold up. What was wrong with Christine’s data?” Morgan asked.

  “It’s nonsensical. It’s gotta be a systems glitch,” Chu said.

  “Donnie, don’t dance around on me. What’s the data show?”

  Chu hesitated, sighed and placed his printouts on the desk next to him. “She was wearing her SAFER pack, Paul. She fired her thrusters and headed for the structure.”

  “What’s odd about that?” Morgan asked. “Wouldn’t you have been curious about it? I would have been.”

  “No doubt,” Chu said.

  “Then, what’s the issue with the data?”

  “She reached the structure in less than thirty seconds. It’s nearly two miles away and she got there in thirty seconds, Paul,” Chu said. “I’ll save you from doing the ma
th. That’s eight times faster than the top speed SAFER thrusters can produce.”

  As Morgan absorbed Chu’s comments, the office door swung open. Carillo appeared in the doorway with the pilot of Amato’s plane. The pilot held out his cell phone as he approached Morgan. “Dr. Fulton’s on the line!”

  “Good to hear your voice, Colonel,” Dante said. “I understand you’re at Green Bank with your Cetus Prime controllers.”

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Morgan said. “Where are you? Are you somewhere safe?”

  “I’m in my office at Mayaguana. Kiera and Ajay are here with me. Here, I’ll turn on the speakerphone,” Dante said.

  Kiera and Ajay said hello. Morgan returned their greetings and said, “Geez, for a bunch of people surrounded by Marines, y’all sound awful cheery.”

  “What do you mean?” Dante asked. “The siege is over. Haven’t you been watching the news?”

  “Uh, no. We, uh, we’ve been sort of unplugged since we got here. Didn’t want anyone finding out what we’ve been up to,” Morgan said. “How’s Augie? Is he okay?”

  “He’s in a coma,” Dante said. “We don’t know much more than that at the moment. Mark’s on the line with HQ. They’re trying to find out what hospital they airlifted him to. All we know is he wasn’t shot. He had a heart attack.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Yeah. It sucks,” Dante said.

  “That son of a bitch Pritchard,” Morgan said. “If Augie dies, they ought to throw his ass in jail with whoever authorized the attack on Mayaguana. I’m sure he was in on it.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Kiera said. “In fact, Dr. Pritchard’s probably the person most responsible for ending the siege.”

  “What?”

  Kiera explained the three-part disclosure of the existence of UMOs and the Cetus Prime mission, beginning with her audio message, followed by the anonymous publishing of the Nuada crater photo and ending with Pritchard’s statement. “I know the statement had a big impact. The Marines pulled out really soon after it came out. And the media didn’t get the Nuada picture from anyone here. Must have been someone at NASA, Pritchard or someone who works for him.”