Stormhaven Rising (Atlas and the Winds Book 1) (29 page)

“No problem, Commander Winslow. I understand entirely.” The President smiled and went on without further comment. “I just wanted to call and personally wish you luck. I understand you’ve been fully briefed on the asteroid, and that your mission to find a suitable colony site is not something that anyone will ever hear about, unless Hammerthrow fails. Is that true?”

She noticed that Randy had stopped moving on the deck below. He was listening to the conversation. “Yes Ma’am. I understand the need to keep this a complete secret,” she said, trying not to look at him, even though his sudden stillness was as distracting as anything she could imagine.

After another long pause under the magnifying glass of the propagation delay, the president said, “If everything goes well, I know that the importance of what you are about to do may never be fully appreciated, but the legacy of your actions will be remembered. I want you to know that I appreciate your bravery and dedication.”

“Thank you Madam President, but I’m just doing my job,” Susan said, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“It is the selfless actions of people like you, who are simply doing their jobs, that define the heroic potential of mankind’s spirit. I hope that what you do up there is nothing more than exploring new lands, but it’s good to know that you’re making preparations so that we’ll have a chance to survive, no matter how destiny plays this out.”

“I don’t know what to say Ma’am. Thank you. I’ll do my best.” Susan shook her head and frowned, thinking she should say something more profound, but the words were just not there. During the long silence, Randy pulled himself through the hole in the floor, stopping with only his head visible so he could watch the President.

“I know you will Susan. I have faith in you.” Sylvia Hutton looked down at a file on her desk for a moment and then added, “In the event that the worst-case situation happens, this is a formal declaration making you the first Territorial Governor of the New Hope Lunar Colony.” The President’s voice filled with emotion. “I just hope that you and the crew of the Resource Station will simply be the first of millions of colonists who will someday follow in your brave footsteps.”

“So do I, Madam President,” Susan said.

“Good luck, Susan Winslow. Humanity is proud of you."

“Thank you,” Susan said, feeling reality crashing down on her.

“Now get back to what you were doing before we interrupted,” the President smiled at her, adding in a stage-whisper, “Did you know your clothes are inside out?” The screen went black as the connection cut off and Susan’s face exploded in crimson.

She turned, looking at Randy who still floated in the hatchway to the lower deck. “What the hell was she saying? Governor? Colony? Asteroid?” he asked. “I think we need to talk.” He hauled himself through the hole waiting for an explanation.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” she sighed.

***

Jiuquan Launch Center, Nei Mongol, China:

So far it had
not
gone as planned. The smallest of details turned into challenges of extraordinary proportion. Director General Jiang knew that given sufficient manpower, all obstacles to
Zhen-Long
could be overcome. Fortunately manpower was their greatest single asset, if only they could get it organized and harnessed to the task.

Across the railroad tracks from the support complex, a city for 30,000 was taking shape. The entire staff of Jiuquan had been less than the number of new arrivals they were now gearing up to support. It wasn’t that they needed this many people to accomplish the mission, it was simply that they had no other place to put them. The redundancies at the three other launch centers would eventually be absorbed elsewhere in their program, but under the consolidation plan Jiuquan was to become the new Command Center for all of the CNSA
Zhen-Long
operations. Moving the Beijing staff out here into the middle of nowhere was safer in the long-term, even if it was inconvenient.

It took 10,000 construction workers to assemble the makeshift town to house everyone, and they were struggling to complete it faster than the people arrived. The schedule required them to be done with the reorganization in seven days.

The timeline imposed by the asteroid was almost as inflexible as the General’s will.

Trains with modular buildings and tents had only started arriving this morning, barely before the first of the reassigned staff had begun showing up by bus. The resulting chaos might have collapsed
Zhen-Long
before it commenced, if not for the sheer determination of Czao Yeiwan.

Czao had personally gone out to the railroad sidings and taken charge of the unloading and set up. Standing on top of a railcar, he thundered out orders. The construction workers learned to jump when his words were turned in their direction, because his personal lightning lit a fire under anyone that appeared to be lagging. For twelve hours he roared out instructions, and only when his voice had surrendered to the strain did he climb down off his makeshift platform. He’d managed to get tents set up as transitional housing for over a third of the planned arrivals and had established a temporary kitchen and sanitary facilities before sundown.

Before he returned to the Administrative Complex he made sure the crews understood what was expected and would continue the unloading and setting up under the glare of arc lights.

He sat across the table from the Director General sipping warm Osmanthus wine. “I am sorry General,” his voice was no more than a hoarse rasp, but otherwise he showed no wear from his day-long tirade. “I had tried to get the support facilities running before the personnel began arriving, but I got little cooperation from the Army engineers."

“General Hu has complained that we have been given too much authority in our mission,” Jiang said. “It appears that you have done well in making up for their lack of support.”

“Thank you, sir,” Czao said.

“You are aware Yeiwan, that now you have rank over me?” The General said, leaning back in his chair and studying the young man. “Your assignment as Prefect makes you a member of the State Council, even if the secrecy of this mission has not allowed you to be seated formally.”

“Perhaps on paper, General,” he said, smiling as the warm alcohol anesthetized his ravaged vocal chords. “However, as it is your plan that will save us, I think you deserve all the respect I can humbly offer.”

“Spoken like a true statesman,” the General laughed. “Now let us discuss how the rest of
Zhen-Long
is progressing.”

“I understand that Quan Dong-Li has already completed loading the fissionable materials and is to be arriving here before sunrise,” Czao said. “I also know that we should have completed mating the first two Shenzhou capsules to their boosters, and should have the second pair ready by sometime tomorrow. Unfortunately, the cargo shipments for the Taiyuan and Xichang facilities were delayed by weather, but still should be ready before the end of the week.”

“Excellent,” the General smiled. “We should have the public announcement of
Zhen-Long
ready by then.”

***

ISS Alpha:

“He is sedated, but we need to transport him back to Earth.” Sergei Titov spoke in a low voice to both commanders. “His eyeball was penetrated by fragments of metal embedded in end of tube Benjamin used as weapon. There are additional pieces behind eyeball, but I have no equipment to tell without doing exploratory surgery.”

“Is he blind?” Mike asked, glancing across the Habitat Module where the astronaut hung suspended in one of the temporary hammocks.

“His left eye is destroyed. I sutured eyelid, but cannot immobilize eye itself. Is also damage to socket and back of eye very near optic nerve.”

“You’re saying that we need to get him to a hospital?” Scott asked.

“He must have surgery beyond what can be done here.” Sergei explained. “He must return to Earth."

Hiroko floated up behind the two Mission Commanders. “You don’t have a seat for him on the shuttle.”

“That’s true,” Mike said, “unless we blast that son-of-a-bitch out through an airlock.”

“I do not wish to see more violence,” Sergei said, “Is trying time for these astronauts. Dr. Zehvi is guilty of nothing more than being unable to withstand pressure.”

“I agree with Sergei on this,” Scott said. “I don’t know if he’d really have followed through, but now somebody else is going to have to make that call.”

“So do we take Alex back down?” Mike said, floating over to stare at the sleeping man.

“Is no choice, Commander,” Sergei said. “Eyeball is critically damaged. My only concern is, if additional fragments are behind eye, they may move during reentry. Could be very dangerous for him.”

“His injury will not heal without surgery, so we have to send him home. Hopefully he’ll make it,” Scott said.

“Is correct Commander,” Sergei agreed.

“We’ll need to send up a replacement,” Scott said, floating toward the door. “I’ll tell Lange."

“I volunteer,” Hiroko said, stopping him with her hand.

“You can’t volunteer,” Scott said. “JAXA pulled out.”

“They told me and they told me what this is all about,” she said. “If I can help save the Earth, then I’m no longer an employee of JAXA. I’m a member of the human race.”

***

Washington:

“Right now, our best assessment is that the Chinese are going to go public,” Norman Anderson said from the President’s screen.

“How do you know?” she asked, rubbing her temples and sighing.

“We’ve received word from our operative in the CNSA that the rumored reorganization is in full swing,” he said, apparently expecting her to see the connection.

“Ok. And?” she said, wishing he’d just give her the report and not make her drag it out of him.

“They’ve reassigned more than 30,000 people to the Jiuquan Launch Center,” he said. “We suspect that this is a precursor to some asteroid-response project they’re implementing, but we’ve never seen an operation of this magnitude.”

“So they’re moving a lot of people around,” she said. “It’s China, for Christ’s sake. They’ve got a lot of people to move around.” Norman flinched at her language and she immediately regretted her short temper. “Sorry,” she added. “I’m just starting to wear a little thin around the edges.” She reached for her coffee cup but decided she’d already battered his Mormon sensibilities enough, so she left it sit just out of sight.

“I understand,” he said. “The reason we’re expecting them to make an announcement is that one of the things they’ve done is to move all their Mission Control staff out to Jiuquan. Almost six thousand of them. Right out of downtown Beijing.”

She raised an eyebrow, but waited for him to connect the dots for her.

“Somebody’s got to explain that,” he said.

“Maybe,” she agreed. “So what are the chances that they’ll come up with a plausible cover? Something other than the truth?”

“Why should they?” he said. “They’ve got pretty tight control over their public. Any panic reaction would be crushed instantly. Even with all their westernization, they still aren’t like us in one important way. Here, we fear the people, there the people fear the government.”

“So do we know when they’re planning to make the announcement?” she asked, feeling the knots piling up in her stomach again.

“No clue,” he said. “But it won’t be long.”

“Maybe we can persuade them to keep it quiet for a while longer,” she said. “I’ll get John on it and see if he’s got any ideas on how we can get some leverage.”

“If he can’t come up with anything, we’ve always got time to declare a national emergency,” he said. “Then it doesn’t matter what they do.”

“Not yet, Norman,” she said. “We don’t have anything to show people to make them believe it."

“Yes Ma’am,” he said quietly. “I understand what has to happen to make that call."

Inside she still ran from the idea of making the declaration, but she knew the reality they faced was eroding her resolve around her.

If only someone would give them a bloody nose.

***

The Smoke and Mirrors of Reality

Washington:

The formal dining room at the White House was empty except for the four of them. They’d sent the serving staff away after they’d delivered the meal and made sure that all their basic needs had been met. John and Norman sat along the sides of the table as spectators, while Tatianna Kozin and the President faced each other directly.

“I thank you very much for the audience and the gracious hospitality, Madam President,” Tatianna Kozin said in her best diplomatic style.

“It is my pleasure, Tatianna, and please, let’s keep this informal shall we? I’d be delighted if you would call me Sylvia.”

“Of course, Madam President,” she said, maintaining her posture despite the invitation.