Ghosts of Ophidian (2 page)

Three

Conner woke to a gentle pat on his shoulder. He groaned when he opened his eyes and saw Commander Schultz standing there.

“You’re one ugly sight to wake up to, Commander,” Conner muttered.

“Why don’t you get your sorry backside out of bed and join me for dinner,” the Commander replied, “Besides, you need to get moving again before your muscles atrophy.”

Conner groaned as he turned on
to his side and executed his slow attempt to sit up. Every muscle and joint in his body ached and combined with the painful rash; he had to fight with clenched teeth not to burst forth in tears.

“They already atrophied back there in Korea,” he said, “And my skin is on fire.”

“Ah, bed sores and rashes – the unmentionable wounds of a POW,” the Commander said, handing him a set of Navy sweats, “Put these on and let’s get moving. I’ll drag you if I have to.”

Conner shook his head and chuckled. He knew the Commander wasn’t joking. He had no pity for those who refused to make a full-hearted attempt to
overcome an obstacle.

He eased his hospital gown off and managed to slip into the dark blue T-shirt. He noted that it was only a size large where only a month ago, he could ha
ve never worn anything less than XL.

“So, tell me about this NASA crap, sir,” Conner
groaned.

He gasped suddenly when he drew his leg up. The Commander turned away and feigned interest in one of the motivational posters on the wall. That was another thing he remembered about his old boss – he gave you y
our space when you needed it. He managed to tuck that leg into the sweat pants, then he drew up his other leg, withholding that particular gasp of pain.

“Not much to know, Steele. Over the past couple weeks, we’ve been on high alert. All of our military is poised, armed, ready, and watching the skies
non-stop,” he said, “What else can we do? It’s not like we trained for interstellar war.”

“No, I mean why are they asking about me?” he asked,
tugging the pants up, then slowly easing off the side of the bed.

Conner was hunched over
for a moment, but quickly found the strength needed to stand up. He attempted a step in the direction of the Commander and realized that he indeed could still walk.

“Well, that’s all guesswork on my end, but I’d say that they intend
to put you on the boarding party,” he replied.

Conner laughed, “We’re boarding that ship up there?
Have we tried any communications?”

“We’ve sent every possible communiqué on every possible frequency, but we get no reply whatsoever,” the Commander said, turning to Conner, “Virgin Galactic even sent up one of their high orbital jets within
twenty miles of the thing and still the ship doesn’t respond in any way.”

“Virgin Galactic?”

The Commander opened the door and motioned for Conner to lead the way out into the passageway.

“They’re that private space
organization out somewhere near New Mexico I believe,” he replied, closing the door and leading Conner down the corridor.

“Are there any rational theories out there? I mean, it can’t be alien, can it? It’s just not… I mean, it’s got to be a joke.”

“No joke, Steele,” he replied, ducking through a hatch, “We entered a whole new world while you were busy crapping out diamonds in North Korea.”

Conner tried to keep up with the Commander, but now it seemed he was purposely trying to make it hard on him.
He’d already scraped his shins on the base of two hatches so far just because his legs seemed to weigh more now.

“And this new world contains aliens, I take it,” Conner said.

“Would you like to propose another explanation for a three-mile ship orbiting our planet?” he asked.

“Time travel,” Conner said, “One of our future ships got sucked into a black hole and dropped them off here.”

The Commander laughed, then paused by the hatch leading into the mess hall. He gestured for Conner to lead the way and patted him on the back.

“You
refuse to believe in aliens, yet you’re willing to accept that a black hole is just a time warp drain in outer space,” the Commander chuckled, “You need to read up on your physics if you intend to be an astronaut, Steele.”

“Uh, I don’t intend to be an astronaut, Commander,” he replied, inhaling the wonderful scent of Navy chow.

The Navy was always rumored to have the best food in all the military and Conner wasn’t one to argue that point. Some of the best meals he’d ever had were consumed in Navy mess halls.

“So, what do you intend to say to NASA when they approach you in Pearl Harbor?” the Commander asked.

“First of all, they’re meeting me in Hawaii?” Conner asked, taking a tray from the stack, “And second of all, I highly doubt they would come for a washed up ex-SEAL with the intention of making him into an astronaut. There are plenty of your active duty guys who are in better shape and besides, I’m not government owned and operated anymore.”

The Commander took a tray and followed Conner through the chow line. Conner accepted everything they had to offer. He then filled a cup with some orange “bug juice” and located a table near the corner.

“Yes, you will be met by Air Force Colonel Aaron Abernathy and I believe two of his underlings. And no, you’re not government property anymore, but I heard you have some special skills when it comes to… uh, shall we call it ‘breaking and entering’?”

“Breaking and entering? I’m an underwater salvage expert, Commander,” he said, sitting down and taking a drink of the strong imitation Kool-Aid, “My skills at getting into sunken ships is no different than the skills of any Navy trained diver.”

“Sure, but I don’t know any divers who would blow a safe door underwater instead of bringing it to the surface first,” he replied with a smirk.

Conner caught his eye. He
mentally sifted through the dives he’d been on searching for a way Schultz could know about them.

“The RMS Holbert and the U-32,” the Commander said, “I heard a rumor that there were two safes blown on the Holbert and
as far as the U-32… well, that sub was believed to be carrying a half-ton of German gold in a 300-pound vault. You were shadowed on that one by two other dive teams who wanted to beat you to the discovery. I heard that all they found was an empty vault sans door.”

“Hmm… I wonder how that happened,” Conner smiled, taking a bite of
his beef-aroni, “And who else could have shadowed me on the Holbert? That was almost four hundred feet down in arctic waters.”

“None of it matters now, Steele, and obviously no one really care
s enough to pursue it in court. The point is, you’re known to be able to access anything anywhere and in any environment. Common sense says that they are coming to ask you to nicely blow a little door into that ship and get them inside,” he replied.

“Why not just hit the ship with a missile?
” Conner said, “They don’t need me.”

“What, and risk blowing a three-mile
steel meteor out of orbit and onto the Earth? Come on, Conner! Stop with the silliness and be rational,” he said, “Besides, I want to be able to brag that one of my men became an astronaut. You want me to beg?”

“So, you’ve already got this all figured out,” Conner said.

“Yep,” he replied, “So you’d better not make me regret saving you from the hands of the North Koreans.”

Four

Conner departed the ship twenty-six hours later when it pulled into port at Pearl Harbor. The sun was already setting and several t
housand sailors were anxious to head out for some much deserved shore leave. He wormed his way through the crowded pier and quickly slipped past the gate to the parking lot. There, amidst a slew of yellow cabs, he caught sight of an Air Force Colonel waiting by a government issued Chevy Impala.

“Based on the bruises and those stitches, I’m going to assume you’re Conner Steele,” the Colonel said.

“That’s me, sir,” Conner said, shaking the Colonel’s hand, “I hate to break the bad news, sir, but if you wanted to hire Steele Salvaging, I sort of lost my boat.”

The Colonel was an older man with silver hair peeking out from
beneath the edges his hat. He maintained a serious expression, probably to hide his insecurities that rose when faced with a Navy SEAL.

“
I’m Colonel Stewart with NASA. You won’t need a boat for this job, Sailor,” he said, opening the passenger door for him.

“So I figured,” Conner replied, accepting the offer of a ride.

The Colonel walked around and quickly entered the vehicle. He started the car and spun the radio dial to silence the country station he’d been listening to.

“I’m leaving for Florida in the morning, Mr. Steele,” the Colonel stated, pulling away from the pier and passing the line of waiting cabs, “Did you eat yet?”

“Yes, sir,” Conner said, “But if you want to go somewhere, I don’t mind.”

The Colonel smiled and nodded as he pulled out into traffic.

“Heard you had a little run-in with the People’s Republic of Korea,” he said, “How are you faring?”

“I’m doing fine, sir,” Conner replied, watching the Colonel, “You said that you’re leaving tomorrow morning. I’m going to assume that
this is where I learn that I only have until then to either accept or refuse the job you’re going to offer me.”

“You can’t refuse,” he said
, giving him a serious glance, “NASA might be the means of transit, but the financier is the United Nations. You aren’t being called upon by only the United States, son.”

“You haven’t even told me what the job is,” he replied, “How is it that you believe I can’t refuse?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Steele. I’m not saying we are going to force you to do this. What I’m saying is that you have no choice. If that ship up there represents what our best minds have speculated it to be, then it could signify the end of the human race,” he said, “As I said, you have no choice.”

“But I was told that the ship is doing nothing up there,” Conner said, “Where’s the threat?”

The Colonel pulled the car over to the gravel on the side of the road. He pointed to Conner’s door, then opened his own and got out of the car.

“Let me show you something, Steele,” he said, leaning on the roof of the car.

Conner got out of the car and looked over top of the roof at the Colonel. He pointed at an angle toward the eastern portion of the sky.

“Look at it, Conner Steele,” he said, “It’s barely eight hundred miles above our planet and even at such a distance, you can see it with the naked eye.”

“All I see is… wait a minute,” Conner began.

“I thought it was a dim star the first time I saw it, but then you study it for a while before you realize it’s not even round.”

“Yeah, it looks like a tiny rectangle,” he replied.

“But that’s just it - it’s not tiny at all. That mammoth right there could probably
easily transport five million people.”

“That’s not good at all!”

“So now you see why you don’t have a choice,” he replied, “Well that and the fact that you’d be collecting a check of five hundred thousand dollars for every month you are in our employ. That’s not to mention the hundred thousand dollar retainer which you can have the moment you say ‘I’m in’.”

Conner shook his head and looked down at the hands he had folded on the roof of the car.

“Is that a ‘no’?” the Colonel asked.

“I’d call it more of a sigh of resignation, sir. I’ll do whatever it is you guys need me to do.”

. . . .

Conner stared out the window at the pillow-like clouds beneath the airliner. If he had to guess, he’d say they were somewhere over the Gulf of Mexico right now. He slid the folded packet of paper
out of the backpack in the seat beside him and opened it up again. Knowing the military as he had, it didn’t surprise him to learn that they were able to print out his orders at a moments notice. Nothing on the paper in front of him suggested that he was a civilian anymore.

He was to report to Cape Canaveral Air Force Station where he would join the already formed unit BP1. BP obviously stood for “boarding party” which currently consisted of the people listed on his orders. He read the names again.

Experienced Astronauts:

Dr. Austin McKenzie – Physicist – Berkley

Dr. Dean Lentz – Engineer – MIT

Inexperienced:

Conner Steele – Salvage & Entry – DEVGRU SEAL

Dr. Dawn Crossway – Biologist – Mount Union

David Roberts – Electrician & IT – USAF SSgt

“Just five people,” he muttered
to himself, “To greet a ship full of aliens bent on human annihilation.”

The Colonel explained that they would not receive any proper astronaut
training since they would be headed up to the ship in the very near future. He only hoped that the weightlessness of space wouldn’t interfere with his ability to keep his food down. He wondered for a moment if he could handle a weapon in the weightlessness of space. This thought led to the question of whether a weapon would act as a propellant when fired, launching the wielder backward.

His thoughts were interrupted by the announcement that the aircraft would be beginning its descent soon and that everyone should return to their seats. He folded his orders again and tucked them into his backpack.