by Blair Wylie
The Dean’s explanation did not sit well with Francis. No one else seemed to know anything about this ‘new edict’ with respect to more comprehensive medical check-ups, and psychological profiling.
Francis was startled out of her inner wool-gathering when the elderly guard reappeared. This time he was leading a tall, uniformed man into the meeting room. The military man stopped abruptly just inside the doorway, and looked around carefully. He appeared to be greatly concerned about something. Then he stared long and hard at Francis. He smiled at her briefly, then he asked the guard politely, “Are you sure this is the right room, Master Sergeant? I presumed this was going to be a discussion about military matters.”
The guard simply smiled back at him and said quietly, “Yes, we are quite sure that this is the right room, Colonel Knudsen. Now, please take a seat, sir. And, would you like some fresh coffee?”
“Ah, yes, please! And I am Lieutenant Colonel Nils Knudsen,” replied the tall young man. He still looked a bit confused, so he asked, “Are you still sure I’m in the right place, Master Sergeant?”
The guard just nodded in reply this time, and directed Colonel Knudsen to the plush chair opposite Francis. Then the guard brought the young officer a full mug of steaming coffee, and left the room.
Lieutenant Colonel Knudsen could have played the part of a Norse god in a Wagner opera. He had short blond hair, and was very well-groomed, to the point of perfection. His well-tailored Air Force uniform enhanced his obviously muscular and athletic physique. Francis could not help but admire his good looks, especially his piercing, blue eyes.
And the young Colonel was instantly struck dumb by the stunning beauty of the exotic, brunette, and obviously young lady sitting across the table from him. He was at a complete loss for words as he carefully studied her fascinating face. He was astounded by the discovery that he could find no flaw.
After a few awkward moments, Colonel Knudsen offered his hand across the table to Francis, and said in a deep baritone voice, “Hello there! I don’t believe we have met before. You just heard who I am, but that may not help you very much? Would you tell me who you are?”
Francis shook his hand firmly, smiled politely, and said, “I am Associate Professor Francis Maldonado, from Abubakar University. I am a cultural, linguistic and social anthropologist.”
“From Abubakar University, and an anthropologist,” mused the young Lieutenant Colonel out loud. Then he shook his head and said, “Nope, sorry! That doesn’t help me much, not at all. You see, I’m a test pilot! Do you have any idea what this meeting is about, Professor Maldonado?”
Francis recoiled with surprise. Then she laughed heartily and said, “Please call me Francis, Colonel Knudsen! You have just made me even more uncertain about the nature of this meeting! You see, I was just told in writing by the Privy Council to attend a meeting here today. And they offered me no explanation.”
“The Privy Council?” exclaimed Colonel Knudsen with unrestrained surprise. Then he added quietly, “They advise the prime minister, don’t they? This is very curious. You know, I was simply ordered to attend by my commanding officer. She offered no explanation either, and we are really not supposed to ask in the military, you know, just obey.”
Just then, the elderly guard reappeared. This time he was leading two more uniformed male officers into the room, and an older man dressed in a well-tailored civilian suit. Francis and Colonel Knudsen both stood up immediately. They both recognized General Jorge Kepler and retired Cabinet Minister Abdul O’Shea. Colonel Knudsen also recognized the other officer, and offered him a slight welcoming nod of his head.
The attending guard then asked, “Would you gentlemen like a cup of coffee as well?” All three of the men he was escorting accepted his offer. General Kepler sat down at the very end of the table, and the other officer sat down next to Colonel Knudsen. Doctor O’Shea sat down next to Francis.
Francis and Colonel Knudsen both realized there were not going to be any immediate introductions or handshakes, so they both just sat down again. The guard left the room after delivering the three mugs of coffee. He quietly closed the door to the meeting room behind him.
“It’s no secret that I like punctuality, so I think we are off to a very good start,” began General Kepler gruffly. Then he boomed loudly, “Lieutenant Colonel Knudsen, we have met once before, I believe. You quickly showed me around a flight simulator facility last year. Now, I also understand that you may know Major Weismann here?”
“I know Major Weismann very well, sir,” replied Colonel Knudsen formally. He smiled at Weismann, and added, “We have worked on a number of really interesting research projects together.”
“Right, then that’s good,” replied General Kepler abruptly. He then opened a thick file folder that he had brought with him, glared hard at Francis and said, “But you probably do not know who this highly intelligent young lady is, and vice versa. So, I’ll run quickly through some introductions before we start.
“I am General Jorge Kepler. I command the Combined Security Forces. We also have with us today a retired Minister of Science and Technology, Doctor Abdul O’Shea, who is now an esteemed member of the Privy Council.
“I will now have to refer to my notes, unfortunately.”
Kepler had aged well. He still shaved all of the hair off of his large, blemish-free head. He was very fit, so it was actually quite difficult to guess his age.
O’Shea had grey, thinning hair, and he was noticeably hunched over from years of neglected posture and the onset of osteoarthritis. But he looked to be alert, and very interested in the proceedings.
General Kepler looked at Francis again, this time with just the hint of a smile, and said pleasantly, “This is Doctor Francis Maldonado, Associate Professor of Anthropology at Abubakar University.” Then he glanced at his notes again and added, “Twenty-eight, single, the very best in her academic field. Gymnast, all-collegiate gold medal winner in combined exercises. Passed all the qualifying tests with flying colours. In fact, no one has ever scored higher on an aggregate basis. Congratulations, Doctor.”
Kepler then glanced quickly at Knudsen, looked back at his notes and growled, “Air Force Lieutenant Colonel Nils Knudsen. Thirty-four, single, highly-decorated for bravery, never in combat, of course. No wars! Been flying since he was sixteen. Only pilot to flat spin an F-12 from twenty thousand metres up and live to tell about it. And he did that on purpose, because he is a test pilot. The best one we have, actually, but we know he won’t ever let high praise like that go to his head. That’s because he is also an officer on active duty. Very active duty, I might add. Successfully checked-out on every type of helicopter and airplane on New Earth. Over ten thousand hours flying time as Pilot-in-Command.”
Kepler then glanced quickly at the other officer. The man had short, curly, black hair and was wearing black-rimmed glasses. He had a clean shaven, plain-looking face, but like O’Shea, he looked as intelligent as he actually was. He was wiry in physique, and obviously very fit. Kepler looked at his notes again and said loudly, “Major Asher Weismann, Air Force reservist. Thirty-six, married, two kids. Right into triathlons, and he’s won a few. He is also Doctor Weismann, Associate Professor of Astrophysics and Space Engineering at Abubakar University. Knows all about spacecraft, the Sol-system, stars, aerodynamics, control systems, the Theory of Relativity, and a mess of other hair-brained stuff I could never come close to understanding. He also has four thousand hours flying time in many types of aircraft, and some helicopters.”
General Kepler then snapped his leather file-folder shut, and barked, “So, why are we all here today? No, don’t bother to guess! I’ll cut right to the chase!
“You are now Team A! There will also be a back-up Team B, but you will never meet those people, and hopefully we will not need to put any of those other folks to actual work.
“What this really means is that you are now all ‘Astronauts in Training’, and furthermore, you are also now New Earth Ambassadors. You are
soon going to make a visit to our moon, Addy. If all goes right, you should be leaving New Earth about twenty-three months from now.
“We are working very hard to have a working rocket and spacecraft combination ready for you by then. Actually, we have to have it ready for you by then! And you have to be fully-fledged astronauts by then! Because you will have the honour and privilege of attending a scheduled meeting with three highly-intelligent alien creatures who want to talk to us, or rather to you three people, very badly it seems!
“This is not just a load of BS, so start dealing with it, and right now, people!
“Now, and quickly, do you have any questions?” He then methodically scanned around the table. He noted that Doctor O’Shea was frowning back at him. The three younger people all looked a bit confused, and a bit anxious. So he laughed, and added, “Or, is there anything else we should tell them before they recover their wits enough to ask us questions, Doctor O’Shea?”
“General Kepler, I think they are entitled to hear something about the context before we proceed to fielding their questions,” replied Doctor O’Shea, trying hard to avoid sounding too critical. General Kepler was renowned for being concise, but he was also famous for being overly blunt, to the point of appearing to be a bully. O’Shea had long believed Kepler would be more effective if he initially tried harder to respectfully win people over to his views with supporting facts and logic.
“Okay, then see what you can do for them in, ah, ten minutes, tops, Doctor O’Shea,” replied the general, while looking at his watch.
Doctor O’Shea then quickly but methodically summarized the events that had led up to the current situation. Then he provided the latest news that even General Kepler had not heard yet.
“The alien spacecraft is en route to our moon, Addy, and we know that for sure now,” he said quietly while carefully observing the general’s face for a reaction. When he saw Kepler immediately frown back at him, he added, “It really is not difficult to see the approaching vessel with a telescope and multi-spectrum electromagnetic scanner. That is, when one knows exactly where to look for it.
“You see, the approaching spacecraft has just sent us a digital, coded, electromagnetic message, four times in succession, about half a day apart between the repeats. The message was sent using the same frequency that our recent deep-space probe had used. We won’t tell you how we figured out the digital translation code. That’s a secret.
“The message was in English, and incredibly, all it said was, ‘Here we are’.”
Doctor O’Shea paused for a moment to allow the others to internally process this rather shocking information. Then he added quietly, “And we have also determined that the alien spacecraft is on a trajectory that traces back to the outermost section of the ring around the gas-giant planet Rasmussen, which is the seventh planet in the Sol-system. Of course, that does not mean we now know for sure where the spacecraft originated, or where these alien creatures actually live. In fact, I strongly suspect the alien astronauts have deliberately charted and followed a convoluted trajectory to make it difficult if not impossible to figure out their actual point of origin.
“Oh, and they don’t seem to be in much of a hurry to get to Addy! But if they hold to their present course and speed, they can put themselves into orbit around our moon without prolonged or extreme periods of deceleration a couple months ahead of our scheduled meeting date.
“I think we can now field some questions from these highly-intelligent young people, General Kepler. That is, if we have a bit more time available today?”
It was General Kepler’s turn to be lost in thought. But he cleared his throat, looked at his watch again and said, “Yes, as it happens, I can spare a few more minutes. So, who’s first?”
“Have we selected the launch vehicle, spacecraft and lander combination, sir?” asked Major Weismann immediately and bluntly. There were obviously lots of questions, and the general’s compressed time schedule was puzzling to Weismann, and a bit aggravating.
“Yes, we will be assembling and using a Megathrust II-B three-stage, hydrogen-LOX rocket booster, a Nebula X-treme command capsule, and a spherical Osprey IV lander,” replied the general loudly. Then he growled, “All proven designs from Earth’s Moon-Base era. Most systems are automated, but there will be manual override capabilities. So, an expert crew will be needed. And this specific booster-spacecraft-lander combination has been used successfully many times before, as you no doubt know, Major Weismann.”
“And when will our training begin, sir?” asked Colonel Knudsen pleasantly. He was angered as well by the general’s brashness, but he really was an experienced, professional officer, and he could keep his emotions well-hidden when that was required to be effective.
“That will start tomorrow, after you all have signed a secrecy agreement, and receive a more comprehensive briefing,” snapped the general in reply. Then he added sternly, “And you will be in command, Lieutenant Colonel Knudsen! And Major Weismann, you will be second in command. Those are direct orders.”
“Yes, sir!” replied Colonel Knudsen and Major Weismann immediately and at exactly the same time.
There was an awkward prolonged pause, then Francis said quietly, “I am a civilian, General, and I know virtually nothing about flying airplanes, let alone spacecraft and moon landers. What will my duties be, and why do you want me to be part of this team?”
“Your specific duties will be decided by your Commander, Doctor Maldonado!” barked General Kepler. Then he stared hard at Colonel Knudsen and asked, “Well, Commander, what will her duties be?”
Colonel Knudsen took a long, slow, deep, breath, then he said calmly, “Everyone here knows New Earth has never had a manned space program of our own, not since we left the Second Chance generation spacecraft that brought our species here from Earth. And we then lost the Second Chance when a fire started up inside of her.
“We will be depending heavily on archival information to plan this mission, design and conduct simulations, and prepare ourselves properly for success. From what I know right now of Earth’s orbital and lunar missions, I believe there will be lots of things Doctor Maldonado can do for us, with only three of us in the crew. But we’ll figure all of that out during our training sessions. And there will need to be many simulations and practice sessions, with a lot of practice troubleshooting potential problems.
“Judging by Professor Maldonado’s academic background and expertise, I sense that you mostly want her to come along with us to coordinate and manage our direct engagement with these alien creatures?”
“Yes, that’s it, exactly!” interjected Doctor O’Shea loudly, before the general could answer. Then he smiled and said quietly, “That’s because we have no idea what these creatures are like. But we want to learn as much as we can about them, in very short order. We might have to do that by just, say, listening to the way they talk, or observing their mannerisms and the way they interact with us, and with each other. We have to know how they think, as well as what they think. We have to communicate with them effectively, and bottom line, we have to know if they are friends or foes. This is a very tall order, no doubt!
“Now, Doctor Maldonado, you just pointed out to us that you are a civilian. So, you cannot be ordered to complete this mission. But the Privy Council believes you are exactly the right person to round-out this crack team of professionals.
“And Prime Minister Wong has fully agreed with the Council’s recommendation, and he is now asking you, through us, to willingly take on this obviously risky but extremely important task. So, will you do it for us?”
“I would not miss it for the world,” replied Francis immediately with a captivating smile. Colonel Knudsen and Major Weismann then smiled back at her. They both would have immediately volunteered as well, if they had not been given the direct order by General Kepler.
7
Major Asher Weismann followed two young lieutenants he did not know into the Air Force officers’ club. They did not bo
ther to hold the door open for him, but he figured they were in a hurry for some reason.
It was early on a Friday evening after another gruelling week of intense mission training. Weismann’s wife, Patricia, had just arranged a babysitter for their two kids, and she was going to meet up with him in an hour or so.
Weismann and his pretty, energetic wife usually liked to start their weekends off this way, and then hop in a cab to go off base together to explore a new restaurant. They loved their kids dearly, but they also enjoyed their once-a-week getaway. And their kids did not seem to mind their occasional break from routine. They really hit it off well with Jill, their regular babysitter. Jill was a responsible teenager, and the daughter of a sergeant on the base. She was also artistically creative, and a natural entertainer. But a pizza delivery and a jug of chocolate milk always helped to make Jill’s job a lot easier.
Weismann was going to make his way over to the bar, but one of the two lieutenants he was following suddenly stopped right in front of him to block his way. When Weismann tried to walk around the rather rude young man, the other lieutenant quickly turned around and said, “Sorry, sir, but our orders are to take you to see General Kepler, and right now. Please follow us, sir. The general is waiting for you in a booth at the back of the club.”
Weismann then had a closer look at the two young lieutenants. They were both wearing basic Air Force uniforms, but they were not wearing unit identifiers or insignia of any kind, and they did not have name tags. So he snapped, “You lieutenants will both show me proper identification before I follow you anywhere.”
The lieutenants did not seem angered or surprised by Weismann’s abrupt challenge. They simply pulled out plastic-laminated photo-identification cards and showed them to him. The cards indicated they were attached to a branch of military intelligence that Weismann had never heard of before. But the cards looked to be genuine. So, Weismann simply shrugged and said, “Okay, then lead on, gentlemen.”
