Asteroid Diversion Page 16

  Gunner smiled. “That’s easy for them to say. They’re not in the crosshairs of that sucker.”

  Chief Rawlings shot him a glance and immediately changed the subject. “Director Werner, would you have someone show us to our quarters? I’d like to get our crew settled with a little rest, and then I want to gather up the international additions to the mission so everyone can get a chance to meet one another.”

  “Ah, yes. Détente,” said Werner. “The relationship between Russia and the West has soured on Earth, and some of that has carried forward to Artemis. Don’t get me wrong. Everyone gets along and we have a good working relationship with our foreign counterparts. However, once work is done, everyone gravitates back toward their own. Social events are planned and carried out, but generally, the Russians stick together and away from the Americans.”

  “That’s human nature, regardless of what planet or moon you’re standing on,” said Chief Rawlings. “Point us in the direction of our bunks. We’ll need a tour guide until we get our bearings.”

  Werner held up her hand and stepped away. When she returned, she had a young woman with her who was carrying a computer tablet and a portable communications device.

  “Jennifer will assist you in gathering your belongings off the Starship, and take you in one of our lunar transports to the housing complex. The astronauts have their own section, separate from the commissary, dining hall, and recreation facilities, so that you can have more peace and quiet. You’ll come back here to conduct briefings, and we have an annex that contains the flight simulator delivered along with the Starhopper. Practice makes perfect, right?”

  Gunner rolled his eyes and shook his head. He’d had enough of the all-too-chipper Director Werner. He wondered to himself if she secretly might enjoy the Earth getting blasted to smithereens, leaving her as Queen Bee of humanity, snug as a bug on the Moon.

  “Actually,” began Jennifer, “I’m having your things brought to your quarters. It’ll take a while for the crew to unload them off the Starship amidst all of the gear that you brought with you. This way, please.”

  Gunner and Chief Rawlings followed the young woman, with the remainder of the American contingent following close behind. She led them through a series of windowless hallways toward a transportation center that resembled a taxi stand, except all of the vehicles were designed like Humvees with five-foot-tall tires.

  Gunner was anxious to see the lunar surface, so he asked, “There aren’t any windows. Don’t you guys get claustrophobic?”

  Jennifer laughed. “No, sir. We get used to it. The windows would have to be brought up from Earth, and to be safe from incoming space rocks, they’d have to be extraordinarily thick. As a result, you’d not be able to see anything or, at least, it would all be distorted.”

  She stood to the side and pointed toward one of the behemoth lunar transports. A twelve-foot-tall platform ladder was pushed up against the machine, where the driver waved Gunner and the rest of the American astronauts forward.

  “Jennifer, where are the Russians? I thought the lunar outpost was manned at fifty-fifty American to international personnel.”

  She nodded and waved the last person up the ladder. “They work mainly in the mining operations. From the beginning, their interest in Artemis was less about the prospects of reaching Mars and beyond, but rather what resources are available here on the Moon.”

  Gunner thought to himself, Here and now, one thing at a time. Let someone else spend trillions of dollars and lose their astronauts’ lives exploring the Great Beyond.

  Chapter 33

  Saturday, April 21

  Artemis

  Earth’s Moon

  Jennifer the Jolly Tour Guide chattered away as the lunar transport hauled the American astronauts to the housing facility. She didn’t have a care in the world, Gunner surmised, because her world wasn’t in danger. Or maybe they weren’t fully aware of the threat? Did the inhabitants of Artemis wake up in the morning and turn on the local news, sports, and weather on the 8s? Was Artemis the true utopia that people dreamed about? One without financial worries, social pressures, or family conflict?

  From time to time, Gunner’s mind would wander back into the present as Jennifer pointed out something of interest. Jennifer, who was knowledgeable and cute, was explaining the background for the development of Artemis.

  “One of the keys to making Artemis a reality was our ability to have a space-based supply of propellant. Yes, mining is an important factor in the lunar outpost’s development, but we, I mean, NASA has always set its sights on access to the inner solar system.

  “The vision established in 2018 and 2019 to place man on the Moon again turned out to be one of the great advancements for mankind. The discovery of lunar polar volatiles resulting from that first walk on the Moon since 1969 made all the difference.”

  A volatile, as it relates to planetary science, is a chemical compound with a sufficiently low boiling point that it can be converted into a form of energy. These chemical elements are usually associated with a planet’s or moon’s crust, and are most abundant near the poles. When NASA successfully landed at the south pole of the Moon in 2024, scientists were astounded at the opportunity to create a supply line of propellants. Refueling at the Moon transformed the potential for deep-space travel.

  “There’s more,” continued Jennifer. “Thanks to the Moon’s shallow gravity well, water-derived products such as hydrogen and oxygen can be exported to be used for life support, as well as being combusted for rocket propulsion. I cannot overstate the importance of the 2024 mission and the advancement in space exploration that resulted from it.”

  The transport made a wide sweep around a massive rock pile, and suddenly the mining operation came into full view. To their left, several small vehicles with solar arrays attached were scurrying about the surface.

  “What are those things doing?” asked Gunner.

  “Oh, of course,” began Jennifer. “Those are some of our Skylights. You see, the lunar surface has been assaulted for millions of years by space objects, some bigger than others. Craters are formed and, over time, so are fissures and crevasses. Each Skylight, solar powered of course, is equipped with a high-resolution 3-D camera capable of mapping a lunar feature.

  “The resulting computer-generated model shows us whether it’s safe for a human or a larger unmanned rover to descend below the lunar surface to explore its attributes.

  “One of the first discoveries after the Skylights were deployed was ice. As you know, for humans, water is life, and the ice discovered in the shadows of these long, narrow openings in the lunar surface has provided us an invaluable resource. If you look ahead, you’ll see one of our Skylight Maximus vehicles at work.”

  The driver of the transport slowed as Jennifer pointed out a much larger version of the Skylight rover. The Maximus model contained a large solar array as well as a device akin to the railguns deployed on U.S. naval destroyers.

  “The Maximus was based upon a concept called the Mini Bee. It was a method of optical mining designed to harvest resources from asteroids. The technology was applied to the Moon, except on a much larger scale, hence the name Maximus.”

  “What does it do?” asked one of the astronauts.

  “It’s quite simple, actually. Using the power of the sun, a laser beam is generated that wears away at the surface, separating the dust from the valuable resources identified through the Skylight rover’s analysis. The generated minerals are collected in an inflatable bag and returned to the central mining facility. The moon dust residue is gathered in one of our sweepers and used to make more bricks, the building blocks of future development on the Moon.”

  While Gunner was truly enjoying the tour of the Moon, his cynical side began to wonder how long it would take before county commissions, and metropolitan planning commissions, and building inspectors, and homeowner’s associations, and environmental groups arrived on the Moon to ruin Jennifer the Jolly Tour Guide’s utopia.

&nb
sp; “Here we are,” she said cheerily as a sprawling complex of buildings appeared before them. “This is our housing unit. Each space is the same, by design. There is no hierarchy here. Age, rank, wealth make no difference at Artemis. We’ve found that eliminating bragging rights like the biggest house, car, or nicest sofa makes the stresses of living in relatively close quarters more, well, habitable and hospitable.”

  The lunar transport pulled into a large single-stall garage and waited while a roll-down door closed behind them. The solar-powered engine idled, allowing oxygen to circulate through the compartment. A minute later, the driver announced that pressure and oxygen levels within the garage had equalized, and they were clear to exit the transport.

  “Okay, let me spend a few minutes showing you around the common areas, and then I’ll lead you to your quarters.”

  Gunner held back to wait for Chief Rawlings as he exited the transport. “Whadya think about all of this?”

  “Truthfully? I find it both remarkable and chilling. Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of what NASA has accomplished here. I’d like to think that I’ve been a part of bringing it to fruition. But did you get the sense that our escort has been drinking the Kool-Aid?”

  Gunner nodded and leaned in to his mentor. “She’s so tickled to be here, Earth is just a foreign country she never plans to visit. Is it that great up here that nobody gives a rat’s ass about friends and family they left behind?”

  “It sure sounds like it,” replied Chief Rawlings. “Listen, call me a pessimist, but any place that’s full of people, especially in close quarters, whether it’s a submarine, a spacecraft, or Artemis, there’s always an undercurrent of jealousy, discontent, and hostility.”

  Jennifer chastised the men. “Gentlemen! Try to keep up, please.”

  Gunner continued to whisper. “It’s very Stepford Wives. Too perfect. I’d prefer to deal with the devil I know instead of the devil I don’t.”

  “Amen, brother,” said Chief Rawlings as he encouraged Gunner to walk ahead of him.

  As they walked through the common area, which was filled with people eating dinner and engaging in conversation, Chief Rawlings and Gunner both noticed a group of cosmonauts sitting alone at a corner table. Rather than wearing the customary blue NASA coveralls, they were dressed in red uniforms, the adopted color of communism and the Bolsheviks, symbolizing the blood of the working class.

  Chief Rawlings nudged Gunner. Before he could speak, Gunner said, “I see them. Recognize them, too.”

  “Yeah, Sokolov, Chernevsky, and Semenova,” added Chief Rawlings, who continued to stare ahead nonchalantly. “I’ll never forget. Do you think they noticed you?”

  Gunner looked down at his feet, emulating Chief Rawlings’s attempt to pretend they didn’t notice the group. He whispered his response. “Oh, yeah. Every head at the table snapped up. I’m sure they remember my choice words in the media and the congressional hearings.”

  “You had choice words for everybody, if I recall.”

  “Yessir. That I did.”

  Chapter 34

  Sunday, April 22

  Defense Threat Reduction Agency

  Fort Belvoir, Virginia

  “Good morning, Agent Cuccinelli,” greeted Ghost as he entered the office that had been temporarily assigned to the FBI agent on loan to the DTRA. The Jackal was supposed to have been returned to the bureau a week ago. However, after the discovery of IM86, and the ongoing efforts of Ghost to follow a hunch, he arranged for the cyber specialist to remain at Fort Belvoir for the foreseeable future, such as it was.

  Unlike other government agencies, who furloughed their employees for the upcoming week due to the anticipated impact event of Friday the twenty-seventh, Ghost, and those within his charge, didn’t stop performing their duties. He had confidence in Gunner’s ability to perform as requested. What he wasn’t sure of was whether NASA’s plan of diversion would work. Computer simulation was one thing. Reality was another.

  “Good morning, sir,” she responded. “Sir, I’ve just received information via my contacts in Moscow. The Russians will be announcing their three-person crew this afternoon for Project Jackhammer.”

  “I’m surprised they haven’t done that already,” said Ghost as he set a carton of Krispy Kreme doughnuts on the Jackal’s desk.

  She quickly snatched up a cruller and munched on it. She chewed it down and then addressed his comment. “Sir, they’ve been very tight-lipped about their intentions, both with respect to their attempts to land on IM86 and the crew announcement. I get the sense they’re hedging their bets.”

  “Why do you say that?” asked Ghost.

  “Well, they’ve made no public statements about landing on the asteroid. Now, it’s presumed that they have not, because Putin has been silent on the issue. His ego prevents him from admitting failure, but it also would prompt him to make an announcement the moment it happened.”

  “I agree.”

  “That leads me to my next observation,” she continued. “As you know, I’ve been frustrated at my lack of ability to tap into the Russian Space Agency’s servers. Once the Russians began their transition from the World Wide Web to their country’s own internet, Runet, our ability to hack into their systems has been hindered.”

  “Yet you’re still able to do so,” countered Ghost.

  “True, sir, to an extent. Naturally, the CIA has operatives throughout Russia, some of whom are highly placed within the government. That said, the Kremlin’s censor, Roscomnadzor, has been very effective in segmenting portions of the government’s operations so that one cannot reach the other. Very smart, frankly, but something the public would never allow in America. Our nation is all about open government, hence the reason we’re not like Russia.”

  Ghost paced the room in frustration. “So you have no inkling as to the status of the Russian mission or their intentions?”

  “No, sir, I didn’t say that. I have a suspicion, based upon newly discovered information I gleaned from their communications.”

  “Please, what is it?” he asked.

  “I don’t believe they’ve landed yet, although they must be close to pulling it off. My guess is that they need more time.”

  “Do they not realize that the world is running out of time? Friday, for Pete’s sake, is coming like a freight train. And the asteroid won’t hit the brakes.”

  “Sir, NASA tells us that the Russians may have until Tuesday to achieve their dual goals of landing and diverting. If the diversion method they utilize doesn’t have an effect by Wednesday, then our strategic bombing is the only option.”

  “We’re scheduled to do that on Tuesday, with Wednesday the drop-dead deadline, pardon the godawful pun.”

  “Correct, sir. We’re at cross-purposes with the Russians, and the crew that they intend to announce this afternoon indicate they want to play hardball right up until the last minute.”

  Ghost stopped wandering the room and leaned on the desk with both hands. “Who are they?”

  “Chernevsky, Semenova, and Commander Sokolov.”

  “Their henchmen,” growled Ghost.

  “Yessir.”

  “I’ve gotta talk to Colonel Robinson with the DOD. He’s familiar with these three because he was at Houston Mission Control when that all went down.”

  The Jackal leaned back in her chair and finished her doughnut. She stared at her monitor and grimaced.

  “What is it, Cuccinelli?”

  She looked up at him and then reached for the remote to a television monitor mounted behind Ghost. “Let me show you.”

  The monitor powered up and the Jackal began typing furiously on her keyboard. Seconds later, a chart that resembled a whiteboard in an FBI field office during an organized crime investigation appeared.

  “Sir, sometimes, I fall back on my investigative roots with the bureau to solve a problem. I realize this might appear somewhat confusing with the names and circles and lines connecting them together.”

  “To say the least,
” he muttered. “I do see one name located in the center of the graphic.”

  “Robinson,” said the Jackal. “You see, I’ve been trying to piece together this whole thing for a couple of weeks now.”

  “Wait, what? A couple of weeks. You’ve only been involved—”

  “That’s right, sir. Since Gunner and his team went to Far East Russia. I hope I haven’t overstepped my bounds, but please allow me to explain.”

  “Sure,” said Ghost, who sat in a chair across from the young FBI agent to give her his full attention.

  “I could sense how troubled Major Fox was and also noticed the inordinate amount of confidence you placed in him. I took a peek at his psychological profile, and honestly, you know, I’m supposed to remain unemotional during any investigation, but, um, I felt sorry for him. What he and his wife had was special, and the events of three years ago have changed him.”

  Ghost nodded. “I knew them both. Gunner and Heather were more than a married couple, they were a team who supported one another with love, encouragement and advice.”

  The Jackal continued. “Anyway, I decided to delve further into the events. When you approached me about investigating Professor Karlov in Crimea, I’m ashamed to admit that he was already on my radar.”

  “You knew about Karlov before I instructed you to do the background for Cam and Bear’s mission?”

  “Um, yessir. I apologize.”

  “Who else is on your radar, as you put it?” Ghost was not annoyed but, rather, intrigued by the mind of an FBI agent.

  “I gathered all the information I could on the personnel on duty that day, both in the ISS and in Houston. Then I accessed the classified files from the House Subcommittee that conducted its own hearings and found the names of the Russians, both named and unnamed, involved in Russia’s space agency. I discovered a common thread.”