Stormhaven Rising (Atlas and the Winds Book 1) (14 page)

“They’re ignoring me,” Secretary Herman said. “I’d expected as much.”

“At least they’re being predictable,” The Vice-President said, opening the door to the Oval Office.

Janice had waved them through with a polite smile, “She’s expecting you.”

Inside, the President was standing by the window looking at the snow. Her posture showed she was tired, but when she turned to face them, it was obvious that she hadn’t slept at all.

“You look like I feel,” John said.

“I was up all night studying,” she said, grabbing her coffee mug off the desk and staring at its empty bottom like it would tell her the future. “I’d like to keep up with the science side of Hammerthrow, but it’s been a long time since I’ve had to crack the books.”

Dick grabbed the urn off the coffee table and poured her another cup. “It’s not like the old days,” he said. “I used to pull all-nighters all the time, but now it’s all I can do to stay up until bedtime.”

“I hate having to have Al break things down to explain them to me,” she said, flopping down behind her desk and stifling a yawn. “It wastes so much of his time.”

“I don’t think he minds,” John said. “You’re way ahead of me as it is."

“Anyway,” she said, changing the subject, “how’s your part of the war going, gentlemen?”

“I think I’ve got the hill under control,” Dick said. “I had to bring Maxwell Jennings in, but after I explained the need to keep it quiet, and what’d happen if he didn’t, he was very agreeable.”

“The Speaker’s going to be a team player? That’s a surprise,” Sylvia said. Everyone knew that the Wyoming Congressman was about to announce his candidacy for the White House and he was likely to be the only real opposition that John Herman would face.

“Probably didn’t hurt that I showed him the map of ground zero,” Dick chuckled. “He stands to lose his entire constituency if things go bad.”

“So how about you, John?” she said, her voice sounding like the coffee was helping. “Any luck?”

“Fat chance,” he said, shaking his head. “We’ve tried every opening we’ve got, and nobody’s home.”

“What happened to the days when America spoke and the world trembled, or at least paid attention?” she sighed.

“Iraq and China,” Dick said. “First we lost credibility, and then China left us in the dust. Everybody knows we can’t hope to fork out money like the Chinese.”

“I feel like Russia after the wall fell,” she said.

“America before the rock falls?” Dick groaned. “Sorry bad thought.” The Vice-President was known for his dark humor.

“Yeah, really,” John chuckled in spite of himself. “No matter though, they’re not interested in talking.”

“Do we want to go with Gene’s plan, to use the launches to force them to the table?” she said.

“I don’t see as we’ve got much choice,” John said, shrugging.

“Hang onto your hats gentlemen, it’s going to get bumpy from here,” she sighed, picking up the phone.

***

ISS Alpha:

There was no place on Alpha designed to hold a meeting for the whole crew. Once there’d been enough space in several of the modules, but now that they’d added scientific hardware to every spare inch of the station, it was cramped no matter where you tried.

The galley was the only area that was almost large enough, so Susan anchored herself in place with a loose grip and waited, for the crew to cram themselves into the packed room. Arriving first, she and Scott were positioned at the head of the work table. She was trying to decipher his expression, but ever since he’d been told to make the announcement even without them having a cover story in place, he’d been impossible to read.

The scientists floated in, each asking the same question, and every time Scott gave the same reply, “I am not saying anything until everyone’s here.” Most of them complained about being called away from some critical task, to which he shrugged and shook his head in apology.

The room was eerily silent when Hiroko Tamami, the Japanese electrical engineer who was responsible for their external science platforms, drifted into the room. She also doubled as the station’s chef. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were having so much trouble with my cooking,” she said, grinning.

She grabbed the rim of the table to stop herself, “Oops. What’s wrong?” recognizing from the glaring faces that her levity had fallen flat.

“Since there’s no easy way to do this, I’ll just go for it,” Scott said, looking at the table rather than the crew. “Effective immediately, NASA is cancelling all scientific work on Alpha. You are instructed to prepare for departure when the
Liberty
arrives next week.” He paused, but was greeted by blank stares of disbelief. “Additionally you’re to disconnect any hardware particular to your projects and get it ready for transport.”

This time when he stopped, the explosion of expletives was deafening. He held up his hands, waiting for quiet. “I can’t tell you more,” he shouted over the uproar. “All I know is that you’re all being sent home.”

“Why?” Hiroko voiced everyone’s question.

“I don’t know.” Scott glanced at Susan.

Sergei Titov, the Russian flight surgeon and officially second in command of the Station, drifted away from the table. “I for one, do not mind early trip home, but some scientific work will be compromised by change in orders.” He continued to ease toward the exit. “I must consider if my government were aware of this, I would have been informed.”

“I am sure that you will be receiving official orders soon,” Scott said.

“You will not mind then, if I verify what you say,” Sergei challenged.

“That won’t be possible. The TRDS system is offline,” Scott said. “We are under a complete communications blackout. There is no direct downlink to Earth available, except through Houston.”

“What?” Benjamin Zehvi said, shock apparent through his thick Israeli accent. “By whose orders?”

“I received these orders from Director Lange personally,” Scott said.

“I am not certain is within your rights to do. Is international territory,” the Russian said. “Since you claim I cannot speak to my country, I request to speak with Russian liaison officer at NASA.”

“I’m sure they know all about it,” Susan said, trying to sound reassuring. Hopefully the diplomatic groundwork had been laid, otherwise this was going to get ugly, real fast.

“I’m sure you will all be allowed to contact your governments as the situation permits,” Scott said, “However, I need you to comply with my instructions. Failure to do so would endanger the safety of the station.”

“This is totally without precedent,” Zehvi accused. “I must protest most emphatically. I will not terminate my work unless I am instructed to do so by my government.”

Scott looked at Susan, his face starting to show his frustration. She exhaled loudly. “The situation is this, in about a week the entire station is to be taken offline for a major overhaul. If you don’t all agree to leave, you’ll be removed.”

She realized that her words had been a little stronger than she intended, but they’d cut through the resistance. “What it boils down to is that if you cooperate now, you might be back up here in the future, but if you don’t, you might not be coming back ever.”

Sergei had reached the doorway and waited for her to finish before saying, “We will see. Until I get confirmation I do nothing to terminate my work.” He turned towards Scott. “I intend no disrespect Commander, but I am unwilling to accept your word alone.” He disappeared through the door.

Susan leaned toward Scott. “I think we need to tell him. If he understands, the rest of them might give up.” He nodded, and she launched herself after the cosmonaut. She could hear the room erupt into yelling behind her.

Heaving herself along the long corridor that led to the Russian Science Module, she called out as Dr. Titov rounded a corner. He pulled himself up to an instrument panel in time to watch her come rocketing into the module.

She nearly flew past the turn. Anchoring himself, he snagged her leg to stop her before she smashed into the doorway. He smiled at her lack of grace. “Still not enough weightless time."

“Really,” she agreed. “Sergei, please let me explain.” She lowered her voice, glancing back down the length of the station.

He held up his hand, but she went on anyway, “I know you’ll need to confirm what I’m about to tell you, but hear me out."

He nodded, so she told him what they knew. From the call by Lange, up to the orbital mechanics of the asteroid. He hung beside her listening to the details until she stopped to let him digest the idea.

“If the world’s going to do something about this,” she said, “then international cooperation needs to start right here.”

***

Xichang Launch Center, Sichuan Province, China:

The shadow of the launch tower pointed on the ground exactly where it had the very first time the General had been to the launch apron. Decades ago. He was fascinated by the idea that the CZ-7 booster, towering on the gantry today, was fundamentally the same hardware that had been in use when he was a young man.

He remembered the day he’d first been authorized to work a launch. Then, he’d been a young engineer on the ground staring up at the behemoth. Now he stood on the pad itself, looking down at the crews scurrying about their tasks. Dragging cables and huge fuel supply lines, they worked under his imposing scrutiny, pausing only to glance up to see if he was still there.

He turned to look at the cargo shell several stories above him, knowing that even as the booster itself might be old technology, the Forced Reaction Development Experiment it carried was the pinnacle of scientific achievement. His creation slept like a butterfly, waiting to be freed from the chrysalis of the rocket’s housing.

“General Jiang,” the radio on his hip chirped. “Your communication from the Five Hundred Meter Facility in Guizhou has arrived.”

“Link it to me here,” he said, pulling out his vidphone and stepping into the shade to see its screen. He hadn’t expected an answer as it had only been yesterday that he’d asked them to survey the area of the sky that had interested the Americans.

Within a second he was looking at a radar image of an asteroid. They only had one day of data to plot its course but even without it he knew from the US actions that it was heading for Earth.

He leaned against a support piling, thumbing through screens showing the radar images, his heart racing as fear and determination combined to feed adrenaline directly into his soul.

This moment in time would be his. History would remember how he and his country had been ready when the universe issued its challenge. Despite the fact that the United States may have discovered this object, the People’s Republic of China would do something about it.

Decisive action was not the strength of the Americans. Standing here in the shadow of the mighty
Chang Zheng
he could see the tangible reality of his people’s power. He could feel the certainty of purpose that came with it.

Drawing in a deep breath, he keyed the switch on the radio. “Prepare my jet for immediate departure,” he said. “I will need to speak to the Standing Committee of the Party as soon as they can be assembled. Make the arrangements."

“General, the launch is tomorrow morning,” his secretary said in surprise.

“I understand that,” he said, “but this new matter requires my attention. I will also need to speak to Commander Feng at the Chang Er Base. I am heading back to my office. Have him on-line before I arrive.”

“Yes, General,” she said.

He turned to stare up at the rocket one last time. Reaching out and placing his hand on a girder like a parent caressing the cheek of a daughter. “Do not fail me, my child,” he said. “You are about to find your higher calling."

***

Stormhaven:

Tom frowned, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. He still hadn’t slept. Sometimes it was hard to tell time inside the Biome, because even though the sky mimicked the light outside, there were no shadows to watch crawling across the landscape.

He stared out into the distance wondering if they were doing the right thing. Colton’s plan was absurd but until someone came up with a better one, it was all they had.

“Ahh hell, he’s never missed the mark before,” Tom said, to himself.

“Excuse me? I do not understand your comment,” Mica said. He’d been hammering out the press release for the launch of the
Dancing Star
for more than an hour, with Mica taking his ideas down and working like a secretary. He should have expected it to answer.

“It’s ok, I was just wondering what the odds were of Cole’s plan working.”

“I have insufficient access to variables regarding human behavior,” the computer said, “however, I do have twenty-two references in my database from various periodicals that indicate
‘smart money never bets against Colton Taylor.’
Is this an accurate assessment?”

“So far that’s been true,” Tom said, smiling thinly. “This time I think he’s holding for an inside strait and betting the farm they’re not holding aces.” He sat back down at his desk. “He’s risking everything that they can’t respond fast enough to lock us all up.”