Peggy Sue (The T'aafhal Inheritance) (4 page)

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Authors: Doug Hoffman

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BOOK: Peggy Sue (The T'aafhal Inheritance)
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As with the ship’s deck gravity system, the shuttles had to be taken into orbit without any acceleration compensation the first time. Since then, with their own deck gravity operational, passengers on board the shuttles felt no sense of motion, even under violent acceleration. All of these facts ran through Gretchen’s mind as she looked at the scowling Marine lieutenant. She took a step forward and stood, looking down at the Marine officer.

“You will experience no unwarranted acceleration on board the shuttle, just as you have not since the ship’s gravity became operational,” she said, adding in a quiet, icy tone, “and the proper form of address for a Naval officer of superior rank is either Sir or Ma’am.”

Despite himself, the Lieutenant stiffened, came to attention and replied, “Sorry, Ma’am.” In truth, Merryweather didn’t hold anything against the ship’s First Officer, she had always treated him with proper courtesy. It was apprehension about what lie ahead that fed his ill disposition.

While the inter-officer drama was playing out in the front of the cabin, the remaining Marines and one Navy Corpsman climbed on board and found seats. All except Gunnery Sergeant Rodriguez. She paused at the foot of the boarding ladder and turned to the Chief. “Take care of your self, Hank,” she said, offering her hand.

“You too, Jennifer,” the weathered old Chief Boatswain’s mate replied, clasping the proffered hand. “Don’t let ‘em jack you around down there.”

“Hell, what can they do but throw me out of the Corps? And they were already doing that before this mission started.” With that the Gunny turned and climbed up into the shuttle.

The Chief stepped out of the airlock and sealed the inner door. “Yer all clear to undock, Lieutenant,” he called over his collar pip.

“Roger, Chief,” came Gretchen’s reply. “Beginning departure procedure.”

Chapter 2

Melbourne, Australia

It was Elena’s third day at the Astrophysics convention, which was being held at Victoria University’s City Convention Centre on Flinders Street. She was staying in the Langham, a very ornate and rather expensive hotel on the south side of the Yarra River. That meant every day she had to cross the Yarra on the pedestrian bridge, walk through the tunnel under the old train station and then dodge the streetcars and other traffic to reach the convention center on the north side of Flinders Street. Elena didn’t mind the walk, but Melbourne’s uneven sidewalks, appropriately called footpaths by the locals, were definitely not friendly to high-heeled shoes.

On the first night there was a reception and cocktail party where she bumped into a number of colleagues and acquaintances—the international astrophysics community was not really all that large. The next night she went to dinner with some friends at one of Melbourne’s trendier bistros. When she got in late that evening she found a message waiting for her that said to meet in the morning at one of the outdoor eateries along the south bank promenade. It was now 9:30AM and the morning fog was still burning off, the temperature struggling to get into the teens. Elena was sipping a cappuccino and picking at a croissant while trying to fight off the late winter chill.

A slender, dark complected man wearing a dark blue jacket and aviator sunglasses walked down the wide promenade carrying a slim briefcase. He entered the bistro’s seating area and came to her table. “Elena?” the man asked, a hopeful smile on his face. “Si. Is that you Rajiv?” she replied.

“Yes, I am Rajiv Gupta,” he said, happy relief showing on his face. “It was so good of you to come. I hope that I haven’t kept you waiting long, all of these little riverfront bistros look the same and I had a hard time finding the correct one.”

They shook hands and Elena motioned to an empty chair. “Please, set down and have a coffee. The cappuccino here is quite good. Of course, Melbourne is a remarkably international city.”

“Thank you,” he said, taking a seat, “and you are right about the multicultural flavor of the city. Aside from the original English, Scots, and Irish settlers there are Italian, Chinese, Indian, Indonesian and, of course, native aborigines. There was an oriental young man behind the counter of my hotel this morning and I expected him to sound like either a Californian surfer or a Chinese grad student. Instead he said “G’day, how ya goin’ mate?” He really scrambled my cultural expectations.”

The waiter came over and Rajiv ordered. Then, once the waiter had departed, he opened the briefcase and took out a slim folder. Opening it revealed a collection of large photographs, all shots of a dun colored planet with prominent icecaps. “Would you please look at these and tell me what you see?”

Elena picked up the photos one by one, carefully examining each in turn. The waiter returned with Rajiv’s coffee and another cappuccino for Elena, who murmured “grazie” without glancing up from the pictures in front of her. After several more minutes, she looked up and said, “This would appear to be a terrestrial planet, but it is not in this solar system. I would suspect the image of being computer generated, but somehow I think you will tell me differently, no?”

“Correct. What would you say if I told you that the world in the photos before you circles a star almost 30 light-years from here?”

“I would say that there are a number of star systems that are within that distance which might have an Earth or Mars like planet. Which one is this?”

“Beta Comae Berenices.”

“Ah,” the astronomer said, “and just how did you get these pictures? The resolution is quite high, I would have guessed they were taken from close by, perhaps in orbit—but how would that be possible?”

“We thought that showing you some pictures would be easier than trying to explain in words.” Rajiv smiled warmly and took a sip of his cooling coffee. “Those were taken a little more than a month ago by a spaceship from Earth.”

“But that is impossible!” Elena sputtered. “Even with today’s technology, the ship would have had to have been launched thousands of years ago! And then, transmitting using radio or lasers, the photographs could not be received back on Earth for another 30 years—Einstein’s cosmic speed limit is strictly enforced.”

Rajiv grinned a Cheshire cat grin. “What if I told you there were ways around Dr. Einstein’s inconvenient speed restriction? What if I told you I viewed that planet with my naked eyes?”

“I would say that you are either delusional or playing a very elaborate hoax on me, or both.”

The slender physicist continued to smile as he took out a cell phone and dialed a number. Waiting for someone to answer, he held one hand over the phone and spoke to Elena. “I believe that you know Yuki Saito?”

“Si, but Dr. Saito was reported dead on board the ISS. This joke is rapidly becoming not funny.”

He held up a hand to forestall more angry comments as someone picked up on the other end. “Yes, this is Rajiv. I’m with Dr. Piscopia. Could you put Dr. Saito on the phone? … Thank you.” Without saying another word he handed the phone to Elena.

“Hello, this is Hiroyuki Saito, can I help you?” came a familiar voice on the phone. It was a voice that Elena recognized as her colleague Dr. Saito. “Yuki? Is that you?”

“Yes, Elena, it is me. As you can tell, I did not perish on board the ISS and too many things have happened since our rescue to tell you over the phone. Please trust Dr. Gupta. He will bring you to a place where we can explain everything.”

“It is you!
Grazie a Dio!
You are alive!” A million questions swirled through Elena’s head. How could this be? Yuki alive, closeup pictures of alien planets, claims of faster-than-light travel—it was too much to take in all at once. Rajiv gently took the phone from her hand and told Yuki “Thank you, I think she believes us now my friend. See you soon.”

Hanging up the phone he looked back at the stunned woman sitting across from him. “Elena? Are you all right?” Focus slowly returned to her gaze, she looked at the diminutive physicist and asked “what happens next?”

“Next, you can enjoy one last day at the conference and then meet me at the train station in the morning. We are booked on the Overland to Adelaide departing at 7:35AM.”

“The station across the river?” Across the river, on the north bank of the Yarra, was a beautiful old Victorian train station that she passed under walking to and from the conference center.

“No, that’s Flinders Street station. The train to Adelaide departs from Southern Cross Station on Spencer Street. Don’t worry, just tell the desk at the hotel you need to catch the Overland to Adelaide in the morning and they will arrange a shuttle bus. Pack enough clothes for a couple of days, we will overnight in Adelaide before continuing on by plane the following morning. I have a few more errands to run and will meet you at the station.”

“Si, I will be there,” she affirmed, again staring down at the pictures of the alien planet in front of her. She had hoped a trip to Australia would bring a bit of adventure with it, but this was taking things to an extreme. She looked up and Rajiv was gone, the only proof that they had talked was an empty coffee cup and the glossy photographs she held in her hand.

 

Parker Ranch, West Texas

The shuttle dropped silently from the dark night sky, after a careful stealthy approach. Bobby Danner, one of the Peggy Sue’s helmsmen, was at the controls with Lt. Curtis acting as copilot—an experienced helo pilot, she had not yet found time to be checked out as pilot in command on the new shuttles.

Their reentry had been over the Pacific, well out of sight of land. For a few brief minutes the shuttle was enveloped in a fiery shell of plasma as atmospheric friction slowed the craft from orbital velocity. Outraged atoms shed their electrons, which joined their naked nuclei to form a charged particle soup, blanking out communication and painting a glowing streak across the night sky.

Gretchen had set the entire cabin ceiling to transparent, giving the Marines a spectacular show. Still 50 kilometers high and traveling Mach 15 when they crossed the west coast of Baja, Mexico, the shuttle made a shallower descent than the old American space shuttles. Below, off the left side of the craft, the coast of California was outlined by lights, like a spray of jewels on black velvet.

Then, dropping quickly through commercial airspace, the shuttle went subsonic crossing over the Texas-New Mexico border. The few lights below reflected the sparse population of West Texas. Now flying at less than 500 meters, Bobby circled TK Parker’s ranch once to ensure that no one was around to witness the shuttle’s landing, though the thought of purposefully creating a UFO sighting was tempting.

Almost without sound, save for a low thrumming caused by its repulsors, the shuttle came to a hover above the parched West Texas scrub. Landing struts deployed and the craft settled softly to the ground behind the old dirigible hangar. There were no signs of life from the huge dilapidated building, originally built during World War II to house Navy airships. It was inside that hangar that the Peggy Sue was built and it was her hasty, overly energetic departure that wrecked the building.

Gretchen unfastened her shoulder and lap belts, worn as a precaution even though the deck gravity eliminated all sense of motion. Before opening the door to the passenger cabin she turned to Bobby and said, “I don’t expect any trouble deplaning our guests, but if I shout get us into the air fast.”

“Aye aye, Ma’am,” the slightly chubby helmsman replied. Bobby was a couch potato, addicted to science fiction movies and video games. But his greatest pleasure in life was flying. While combat maneuvers in the Peggy Sue were the best, flitting about in a hypersonic shuttle did not suck either in Bobby’s book.

As Lt. Curtis stepped into the passenger cabin the transparent upper fuselage became opaque and the cabin lights blinked on. From the rear of the cabin came the hum of electric motors as the stairs lowered to the ground beneath the rear of the craft. Gretchen looked at the Marines one last time. Most of them had fought beside her, either on the Moon, on the alien space station or both. No getting around it, sometimes duty sucked.

“This is the end of the line, people. Look around the cabin and don’t forget anything, then move to the rear and down the stairs,” she announced. “After disembarking the shuttle get well clear so our departure doesn’t injure any of you.”

Then in a quieter voice she addressed Lt. Merryweather. “Lieutenant, it is BMNT,” using the Navy acronym for Begin Morning Nautical Twilight, the beginning of dawn. “Sunrise should be in less than an hour. We will contact the authorities as soon as we are airborne and let them know you are here.” 

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” he replied, “for the uneventful flight. Your captain is a man of his word.” With that the Marine Lieutenant turned and headed for the rear of the compartment. Lt. Curtis paused and then followed him aft. By the time she reached the top of the boarding ladder the only one left was Gunny Rodriguez.

The Gunny turned to Gretchen and offered her hand. “We’ve seen some amazing things together, Lieutenant. And I’m sorry we have to go.”

Accepting the handshake, Gretchen replied, “That we have, Gunny. We all hate to see you and the squad go, but you gotta do what you gotta do. It was an honor serving beside you.”

“Same here, Lieutenant.” Then the Gunny came to attention and saluted the Lieutenant, saying, “I request permission to leave the ship, Ma’am.”

The ship’s First Officer returned the Sergeant’s salute and said, “Permission granted Gunnery Sergeant, and Godspeed.”

* * * * *

The Squad was assembled 30 meters to the west of the shuttle. They were all standing in their combat gear looking at the now sealed shuttle in the growing dawn light. Without warning, two containers dropped from the shuttle’s belly, bouncing slightly as they landed on the ground. “Hey look!” shouted PFC Sanchez, “the shuttle just took a dump.”

“Nice imagery, Joey,” remarked PFC Kwan. “That must be our weapons and ammo.” Beside Kwan, LCpl. Reagan was rummaging through his vest pockets, from which he pulled a cell phone. The face of the phone illuminated and he smiled, “It still works! I think I got maybe two bars.”

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