On Mars Pathfinder (The Mike Lane Stories Book 1) (15 page)

What the frak?
Something just moved on the ground.

I squinted my eyes and looked just off axis and to the right. There was a shadow on the ground and it was moving slowly towards me. I pressed my face closer to the portal glass and peered upwards. I didn’t see anything at all in the sky. I was expecting a floating piece of cloth or something from yesterday’s Lander explosion. Was that only yesterday? So much had gone on, it seemed longer.

I watched the shadow as it slowed down and then stopped. Freaky man, really freaky. What was causing it? I had found the small binoculars while unpacking, so I went over to the first workstation’s top drawer and took them out. Back at the kitchen portal I opened the mini-binoculars and found the shadow, refocused and then slowly panned up and down around it. After a few moments, I finally found something. It was chunk of air that was distorted. It looked like a mirage. You know when you are driving on a hot summer day, and on a rise in the road ahead, the heat makes the air shimmer? That was what it was like. Looking directly at that spot, it was like heat was shimmering the air. I looked over at the environment controls and it was -23 degrees Celsius. It wasn’t heat shimmer at that temperature, but maybe something was causing a severely localized temperature inversion which would mimic a heat shimmer. Could the solar collectors focus enough heat on one spot to cause this? I set the binoculars down and looked through the portal again as I tried to make sense of this. It must be some really weird weather phenomena. I’d have to see if the cameras picked it up. I’m sure the planetologists and climatologist back on Terra would be interested in this.

On a lark, I grabbed my tablet and hit the key sequence to bring up the Jalopy-Sat controls. Much to my surprise, the Targeting Camera was active and focused down to a 50 metre resolution on the shadow, on the ground. It seems that this shadow had also piqued the interest of the onboard targeting system. While it would usually ignore anything within 500 metres of the Habitats, it would relentlessly track anything moving into the 500 metre exclusion zone if it originated outside that zone. This was just getting weirder and weirder. I could accept a momentary weather phenomena creating some ice-world version of heat shimmer; but how was something, ostensibly translucent, casting a shadow? Furthermore, how did it have enough substance to activate the advanced weapons tracking system of the Jalopy-Sat? Perhaps this shadow simply had enough definition to be targeted?

I looked up and out through the portal again. I watched the heat shimmer as it disappeared and a round grey ball about the size of a large cargo van shot straight up in the sky. I pressed my face on the portal glass and tried to follow it. I didn’t even bother trying to suppress the rather loud, “FRAK ME” that came out of my mouth. Those Frakers at the U.S. Air Force weren’t full of shit after all. I stood back from the window, fighting the nausea and the greying periphery of my vision, I looked around for a chair and then thought, as the greying field of vision grew smaller, “Frak it”. I fainted where I was standing.

Jayden’s Office: 134 Days Before Launch

I had been called to Jayden’s office at 4 A.M. I guess the term “called” is a bit misleading. I was sound asleep in my apartment, buck naked on the bed, and probably drooling on the pillow to the sound of my heavy breathing. I was rudely woken by a rough hand shaking my shoulders, and was blinded by the glaring ceiling light just switched on. My right arm came up swinging with a clenched fist on the end of it. The smile on Karl’s face changed to one of surprise as I punched him squarely on the jaw, making him stagger backward a bit - more from surprise than power. Karl and his brother Johann stood by the bed making placating gestures and telling me in their thick German accents that “
alles in Ordnung ist”,
that everything is okay, that I had to “
beruhige dich bitte
”, to please calm down. I was standing on the other side of the bed in a fighting stance by the time I realized who was standing in my bedroom in the middle of the night; and that yes, indeed, everything was
in Ordnung
. Their security uniforms were jet black, but their faces were friendly and neither one had drawn their weapons.

I looked at Karl rubbing his jaw and instantly felt bad. I really liked the guy. I just really, really didn’t like anyone touching me when I was asleep. Even my ex-wife knew to get out of the bed and step back before waking me up. I considered it an autonomic response, based on conditioning from a childhood event.

After my heart stopped trip-hammering in my chest, I had a quick wash-up, and threw on some clothes from the day before. They said I was needed in Jayden’s office most
Riki-Tik
(Johann’s favourite expression from American TV), and I didn’t have time for a shower and
jah
,
ve vere,
in a hurry.

Now semiawake, and holding a coffee that Johann had picked up for me on the way to my apartment, the brothers sped me to the Corporation’s headquarters. The lack of traffic at that time of the morning made the trip very quick. Karl and Johann were good guys, and I felt even worse about punching Karl. I kept apologizing - and he kept saying it was okay. They were two members of the security team that had been assigned to me two weeks ago, after the meeting in Jayden’s office. They were also twin brothers. Standing almost 2 metres tall, and each one weighing in around 240 lbs of solid body builder, I always felt very safe with them. The SIG Sauer that each carried on their hip helped as well. There had been a few threats from nut-jobs ever since the project started. I was glad they were so forgiving about the sucker-punch; or else I would have been in a world of hurt. I was no stranger to the gym, but these guys were the true embodiment of the term, “built like a brick shithouse”. I had heard others refer to them collectively as
The Berlin Wall
.

They drove onto the apron at the front of the building, the building still mostly in darkness. It was still too early for sunrise. When I got out of the car, I did that same thing I did every morning after waking up. I would walk outside in my housecoat and take a deep, lung filling breath of crisp, clean Swedish air. For some reason, the air was just different here. I could never define it. Maybe it was the local vegetation aromas, or something to do with the temperature, or the latitude. I just know that taking that first deep breath of Swedish air in the morning was like a lightning bolt of feeling
awesome
.

Johann swiped his card in the door and they hustled me inside, and straight to the elevators. They hadn’t said much on the way except that I was needed, immediately. Aside from my apologies, we drove in silence. I was sipping my coffee, Karl was rubbing his jaw from time to time, and Johann was trying not to snicker at Karl every time he rubbed his jaw.

The elevator stopped on the third floor and we walked down the long hallway to Jayden’s office. Karl and Johann stopped in unison on each side of the office door, executed a crisply perfect about face, and then both stood at ease; hands folded behind their back, looking straight ahead. I looked closely at them to see if they were having me on. “Please enter ze office Herr Lane, you are anticipated,” said Karl very formally.

Suddenly, my stomach started feeling a bit queasy. I got rid of the final sleepy cobwebs, downed the last of the coffee in my styrofoam cup, and started being very curious. I opened the door and walked in without knocking.

Jayden and Hans both stood up, as did their guest. “Good Morning Mike, I’m glad you could join us so early.” I looked at Jayden who wasn’t smiling, neither was Hans. Their guest, a woman in her 60’s wearing the blue uniform and decorations of a Lieutenant General in the U.S. Air Force was standing on the other side of the table. Oddly, she had no Aide-de-Camp or other hangers-on with her that one would expect a Staff Officer to have.

I walked over to the table, set down my empty coffee cup, and shrugged off my jacket. Jayden made the introductions. “Mike Lane, this is Lieutenant General Gilda Rosewood of the United States Air Force. General Rosewood, this is the man we are sending to Mars, Mike Lane.”

She leaned over the table slightly and shook my hand. Her hand was warm, but very firm. I had no doubt in my mind this athletic, attractive, and pleasantly smiling, brown eyed woman in her 60’s, with beautiful platinum blond hair done up tightly, was an absolute bitch-on-wheels when she wanted to be. The fact that she was still in uniform in her 60’s made her someone who was obviously very special, and very important.

We sat down and with no platitudes or small talk she said, “Mr. Lane, I’m here to give you an Article Five briefing.”

“Article five?” I interrupted.

“Yes, Article 5 of the Outer Space Treaty. I understand you are going to Mars in eighteen weeks. I’m here to advise you that if you go to Mars, you will be committing suicide.” She leaned forward and stared me straight in the eyes, “Now let me tell you why.”

A shiver ran up my spine at that. I looked at Jayden and held up my drained styrofoam cup, “Boss, you got any hot-hot? I think I’m going to need it.” Jayden nodded. I looked at the General and asked, “Would you like some ma’am?” She nodded her head. Jayden stood and reached for her coffee cup. She smiled disarmingly, put her fingers on the rim of the cup she had been drinking from, and pushed it slowly across the table towards me. When I say she smiled, I mean that her lips curved up into what is physiologically defined as a smile, but there was no real smile behind her lips curving up. “One cream, no sugar. I’m sweet enough”. Hans almost choked on the last sip of his china coffee cup as she very surgically let everyone at the table know exactly who was in charge of this early morning
tête
-à-
tête.

I smiled and walked over to the Keurig with Jayden, holding her cup in my hand. We didn’t say anything as the individual Timmies K-Cups brewed for all of us. Jayden had brought out the good china for this early morning meeting. I could hear the General and Hans quietly talking about his favourite restaurants in the area, to fill the silence if nothing else. I added just the right amount of cream to my cup and the Generals cup, and walked back over to the table. Handing her coffee to her with a smile and a nod; a nod that acknowledged this meetings pecking order, I sat down across from her.

I tried to come up with something pithy to say, but I decided this really wasn’t the time. I knew deep down inside that I was going to have to make an ally of this tough old bitch, and that I was going to have to do it fast. She was the type that would most likely appreciate an intelligent person who knew how to respect and follow a chain of command.

I began the meeting-proper, “Thank you for your patience ma’am. I appreciate your travelling half way around the world to meet with us this morning, and I recognize the importance and urgency that such a meeting must bring with it. Shall we proceed?” Playing the dutiful and respectful peon had its advantages some time. We would see if this had been the right call on my part.

She looked at me for a moment, sizing me up. She looked at Hans and Jayden. They had probably already had more than one mental dissection under her gaze already. By the look of the two of them, plus legal pads and folders on the table, it appeared they had already been there for hours.

“I’m the second-in-command of the 88
th
Air Support Wing at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base. We are part of the United States Air Force Materials Command. Our
cover
is responsibility for the procurement and disbursement of all aircraft related materials for the United States Air Force. Our true purpose is the housing, investigation, and replication of alien flight technology. We build it and then we test it at Area 52 in Nevada.”

“Area 52? Not area 51?” I grinned.

She didn’t grin, “Area 52.”

After a brief pause to let that sink in, after scanning our faces again, she continued, “This planet has been visited by aliens for thousands of years. The bulk of this visitation activity has been since the beginning of the 20
th
century. Some of the visitors are our friends. Some are not. There is one race in particular that we are in a state of détente with. That particular race, the Eridani, have made it clear that they will not appreciate any human presence on Mars, just as they will not appreciate any human presence on the Moon. If you go to Mars, they will probably kill you.”

The look on Jayden and Hans face was predictable. I wanted to tell them to pick their chins up off the floor, but didn’t. I picked up my coffee cup, took a sip, and then looked squarely at the General again, “Please continue ma’am.”

“Isn’t that enough?” she replied.

For many years, I had been a YouTube conspiracy video junkie. I loved watching all that fakery. People went to so much trouble to make fantasy look real. There was the popular Rendleshem Forest incident, Skinny-Bob, underground bases, a supposed alien war at Dulce, New Mexico; and these were only the tip of a massive iceberg of internet litter. It had always been entertaining, but nothing more. Until now. What she was telling me was that some of those videos might have had some truth sprinkled into them. I was a bit shocked at that but wasn’t overwhelmed, especially after my own alien abduction as a six year old child. I smiled briefly, and leaned forward putting my forearms on the table. “No ma’am, it most certainly is not enough ma’am. You’ve called me in here out of a dead sleep to tell me all my plans and dreams are bust because some aliens exist, of which we do not yet have any proof. You then expect me to toss my hands up in the air and say,
Oh, my. That’s that then. I guess we’re not going.
” I paused a moment. I knew speaking to her like this was risky. I leaned a bit more forward, “This is compounded with the fact that we know that NASA has moved beyond just the planning stages of a manned mission to Mars, and so have the Russians, the Chinese; and if rumour is correct, then the French have aspirations of going to space as well, Mars in particular. Having a private corporation put a man on Mars first, with no political or military affiliation, will be a sty-in-the-eye for everyone planning on going there. It would be to the benefit of everyone, including the United States Air Force, if I did not go. So forgive me ma’am if I humbly suggest that no, that certainly is not enough. You’re going to have to do better than that. I wasn’t chosen for this proof of concept mission because I was a low down, yellow bellied, weak willed, knock kneed, lily-livered, scaredy-cat, panty waist,” then after a brief pause I finished with a punctuating “Ma’am”, and then sat up ram-rod straight in my chair.

She continued to size me up with her eyes and I could see she was making decisions in her head. I thought Jayden was going to have a coronary, and Hans looked like he wished he had chosen another line of work. Finally, she pursed her lips and nodded once. “What I’m about to tell you is above top secret. I’m going to share some things with you that even our President doesn’t know. This information is so protected, that what I reveal to you cannot be revealed to anyone outside of this room. If you speak, whisper, pillow talk, or even hint of this information, you will disappear and your body will not be found; and yes, I have both the ability and the authority to make that happen.” I could tell she wasn’t being melodramatic. She was simply stating a fact.

The General turned to the other two and said, “Mr. Lane has to hear what I have to say. You two do not. However, given your pivotal positions in this endeavour I will permit you to be part of this briefing. The choice of whether you remain for this briefing is up to you. However, if you do choose to stay, you stay for the whole thing. Of course,” that smile that wasn’t a smile appeared on her face again, “you will be subject to the same caveat and addendum that Mr. Lane is subject to.”

Jayden and Hans looked at each other, and then they looked at me. I shrugged and made a ‘
what the hell are you thinking, of course you’re going to stay’
face. I said, “Guys, come on, stay.” They both nodded and indicated to Lieutenant General Rosewood they would stay for the briefing. She reached down beside her and lifted her black briefcase to the table. There was a keypad on it, and she entered a nine digit sequence of numbers. The briefcase unlocked, she lifted the top and I saw inside the rim what looked like not-so-small explosive charges of C4. I was glad she entered the right sequence of numbers. The Lieutenant General took out a beige folder with red bold writing ‘EYES ONLY - ULTRA’ and ‘AQUARIUS’ printed on it. She also took a small black box 2.5 centimetres thick and 7.5 by 5 centimetres. It had a green light, white light, and red light on it. The red light was on. She touched two fingers against unmarked spots on the box, and the white light came on. She sat it on the table and said, “Something from our friends to make the meeting more secure”.