Stormhaven Rising (Atlas and the Winds Book 1) (70 page)

It was rapidly becoming an air traffic nightmare, worse even than having the two shuttles on the field at the same time. Half of the most important traffic in the world was heading for the runway at the Cape, and almost all of it wanted to land in the next ten minutes. Colton grinned in amusement, watching the situational awareness map that Mica provided, courtesy of the hack they still had on the defnet. He knew that somewhere below him there was an air traffic controller having shit-fits trying to sort out the mess.

The Starhawks that had escorted Stormhaven’s Transport Ships back from space had been given priority due to their fuel status. Apparently, even Air Force One took a back seat to their approach because, along with its wing of escort fighters, it had been assigned an orbit several miles out over the ocean.

By the time the
Draco
and
Aquila
had taken up a position 300,000 feet above the chaos, the jet from Stormhaven and its two escorts were closing as well. The party was set to commence.

Fortunately, there was little point in rushing the ISS crew to ground, Cole mused darkly. Either they were unhurt, or they were dead. There’s no forgiveness in space. That was a lesson they’d all seen firsthand today.

Since it was now critical for the survival of the US Colony, Cole had decided not to have the
Draco
unload the
Reliant
, and it was securely hanging from the underbelly of Dave’s ship. By hauling it down to the surface it had become yet another bargaining tool in their impending negotiations.

Finally the airspace had been emptied and the
Aquila
and
Draco
received their approach clearance. They eased downward through the cloud decks, breaking through the lowest level of overcast only several thousand feet above the tarmac.

“I don’t think I like the looks of that,” Dave said. The area where they’d been directed to land did look like a parking lot for used military hardware. Concentric rings of infantry were surrounded by ever larger and more deadly weapons.

“Since the President came down here to chat with us, it’d be rude to turn tail and run, don’t you think?” Cole asked.

“It’s your call, boss,” Dave said. “I’ve gotten used to staring down the barrel of a gun lately but it does look a bit unfriendly down there.”

“Let’s do it.” he said. They settled toward the field, Cole holding his breath all the way. A distant creaking noise was the only signal they’d deposited their massive frame once more on its landing struts.

“Welcome to NASA’s Cape Canaveral Flight Center, Stormhaven Rescue Mission,” the voice of Joshua Lange said through the intercom. “Requesting permission to come aboard and assist in unloading your passengers.”

Nodding to Dani to unlock the outer doors, Cole replied. “Of course. Please feel free to board through the lower front ramp.”

Standing, he helped a wobbly Scott Rutledge to his feet and said, “Come on, let’s go meet the dignitaries shall we?"

Unexpectedly, the first face that appeared through the hatch was not a technician, or even Joshua Lange. A broadly smiling Sylvia Hutton met them personally. Her hand was out to help the weak astronaut, and her genuine compassion filled the room. Even as jaded as Cole was about the political realities of the world, he stopped in shock.

“Commander, are you ok?” she asked, looking at the grey pallor of the astronaut.

“I’m fine,” he said, sweating. “Just not used to gravity.”

“Ok then, why don’t we get you sitting down,” she nodded over her shoulder to the two men who stood behind her. “Can you give him a hand?” Secretary of State Herman and what was probably a Secret Service bodyguard stood there blinking at each other, looking confused as she eased the astronaut toward them with a firm grip on his arm.

“Here, I’ve got him,” Director Lange stood behind them reaching out to take his other arm. The entryway was crowded, but Joshua pulled Commander Rutledge to him in a bone crushing bear hug.

“Welcome aboard, Madam President,” Cole said, regrouping and stepping back to give her room to come into the corridor. “I must say I’m surprised to see you so soon.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Nice to know you haven’t cornered the market on surprise. You’ve been keeping us on our toes for a while, Mr. Taylor."

Nodding graciously, he gestured toward the interior of the ship. “It’s a survival skill I’ve picked up over the years. May I show you around?”

Cole was impressed with the President’s attention to details as they toured the
Aquila
. She asked intelligent questions and even understood some of the more complex answers. Only twice did she have to ask for clarification.

“We need to address how to resolve our issues,” she said when they had finally arrived on the bridge. “I came down here personally so that we could get all the posturing and game-playing over with.”

“Ok then, let’s talk,” Cole said, surprised again by her blunt approach. He leaned back against one of the control consoles crossing his arms.

Assuming a similar posture, she smiled, for the first time putting on a face that Cole recognized as a contrived political mask. “We know you want access to space."

Cole nodded but said nothing. “So we can get that for you. It might take time, but you have my sincere promise that I will make that happen.”

“And that doesn’t give me anything except more of what I’ve already gotten. No offense Madam President, but that sounds like business-as-usual,” Cole said.

“Ok, we’ll withdraw our military operations from your compound as proof of our intent to move forward,” she offered. “I’ll assign Secretary Herman to directly oversee the negotiations.” John nodded, backing up her attempt at concession with his best look of sincerity.

“Right. So you agree to talk to us, and for that you want what?” Tom said, stepping into the conversation without invitation. He’d come in behind them and had been listening from a polite distance. The secret service agent had been the only one who’d seen him.

“Tomas Stephens, Legal Director of Stormhaven,” Cole said, introducing his friend to the President.

“I’m sure getting our license to fly won’t come without a price,” Tom said, shaking each of the dignitaries’ hands in turn. Ice edged his voice, and Cole grinned as he watched their reaction.

“I’m sure we’re going to be able to come to terms that everyone can live with, Mr. Taylor,” Secretary Herman said, pointedly not looking at Tom.

“The first thing we need you to do is to remove the threat of public disclosure from the internet,” the President said. “To us, that’s the single biggest stumbling block in trusting each other."

“You are aware,” Dani said, from where she’d been listening at her control console, “that it’s only a matter of time until the world finds out anyway. It’s going to be visible with binoculars within a few months."

“Yes we are. And who might you be?"

“Danielle Cavanaugh,” she said.

“Ahh, the wayward Dr. Cavanaugh,” the President said. “You’re keeping a pretty high profile for a wanted fugitive.” She winked, letting them all know she was willing to put that issue on the table as well.

“It was our intent to have our mitigation plan in place by the time the public finds out,” she said. “If we could do that, we hoped that would control panic. But after today, our choices appear to be somewhat limited."

“It is truly an unfortunate situation,” Cole said.

“Obviously you understand we’re going to have to implement an alternative plan, since Hammerthrow has tanked,” she said.

“You mean like your Colony efforts on the moon?” Cole asked, throwing another chip on the table. “That’s an idea that’s not going to instill a great deal of confidence in the common man."

“Probably not,” she admitted. “It isn’t where my focus needs to be anyway. The New Hope Colony is only a fall-back, in case we’re unsuccessful in our efforts.”

“Perhaps this ship might be useful in developing a new plan?” Secretary Herman suggested.

“It’s reasonably apparent,” the President said, “that as powerful as it is, it might be possible to use it to deflect the asteroid.”

Cole laughed. Her face showed a shattering of purpose that flashed as anger across her eyes. “Mr. Taylor—“ she started.

“I’m sorry, Madam President,” he explained, “but you misunderstand me. I’m more than willing to give you this ship. It’s yours, along with the specifications to build as many more as you want. That’s not the problem. The truth is, it can’t be used to do what you’re proposing."

“Why not?” the Secretary asked, voicing the President’s confusion.

“Because these engines aren’t capable of developing that type of power,” he said. “Your scientists will have to explain it to you, but for now let’s say it’s not possible from a scientific perspective. We’ve already had this discussion with the Japanese.”

“We were aware of your discussions with Kuromori,” the Secretary of State said. “And that they weren’t simply concerning the welfare of his citizens.”

“What you might not know, is that we’ve proposed an agreement with the Japanese that forms a new Independent Space Alliance,” he said. “One that’s not based on territorial rights and privileges of any nation state.”

“International law would prohibit such an agreement,” John said. “I’m sure the Japanese would never ratify such a thing?” He sounded unsure of himself, like he was asking and not making an assertion.

“They already have,” Tom said. “And the European Union, the Australians, and India have all expressed to Ambassador Kuromori more than a passing interest in the organization.”

“That list of names sounds familiar,” the President said.

“You’re American citizens,” John said. “You have a legal obligation that goes with that citizenship.”

“I understand that responsibility,” Cole said, letting the President see his sincerity. “We’ve done everything in our power to give the United States the first chance to sit down and negotiate. In fact, we’re still here talking.”

“The truth of the matter is, by signing this agreement, Japan has already given us the licenses we need,” Tom said, holding out a diplomatic wallet embossed with the Japanese seal. It was a surprise to Cole as well, and his composure nearly slipped when he looked at Tom.

The President opened the folder and looked at the microdisks inside, each with digital certifications engraved on their labels. “I’d imagine this changes things somewhat,” she said, looking at her Secretary of State. He looked like he’d been broadsided by a truck. Twice.

“I believe I can take responsibility for making this an
‘every man for himself’
situation,” she said. “Perhaps we might have done things differently had we known what resources were available.” She looked at John, who nodded.

“If I may be so bold,” Cole said, “I think the whole planet is in this together. This situation transcends national security concerns."

“I agree. In a perfect world,” the President said. “Unfortunately, for all our best efforts, we as a species fall far short of that goal.”

“The question is, will we do what’s right for humanity in spite of its shortcomings?” Cole said.

He could see in her eyes that at that very moment she wanted to say yes more than anything, but he also saw that she knew her hands were tied by ten-thousand years of human tradition.

***

Inevitable Consequences

Lunar Resource Station, Promontorium Heraclides:

“They did WHAT with it?” Susan Winslow said from behind the little privacy barrier they’d set up for the women to shower.

“They hauled it down to the surface,” Tony said. “The pictures show it hanging from the belly of one of their ships.”

“It’d never survive a reentry,” she said, peeking around the edge of the wall to see if he was teasing. He looked serious.

“Apparently they can come in slow enough that it’s not an issue,” he said, shrugging and handing her a towel.

“But we can’t put it back into space if we don’t take it apart. We’ve got nothing big enough to boost it all at once.” She wrapped the towel around herself and stepped out of the shower. It covered most of her body. Tony blinked in surprise and blushed, but he didn’t turn away.

“Yeah,” he said. “We’re kinda screwed. We’ve got no lander, we’ve got no pilot, and at this point we’ve only got three weeks of food left, maybe four if we all eat skinny.”

“Nobody down there has any suggestions on how we’re going to work this out, do they?” She turned her back, and dropping the towel grabbed a spandex undersuit out of the locker. She shimmied into it, listening to him as he blew out a slow breath, not quite a whistle, more like a long hissing sound.

“Not yet,” he said, clearing his throat, obviously uncomfortable but not intimidated enough to leave. She knew that it might not be a good idea to be so casual about her sexuality, but then it might be something they all should get used to. It was going to be a while before they had the space to afford the luxury of modesty. She made a note to talk to Cindy about it, the only other female at the LRS so far. But that would have to wait until later, for now they had more pressing matters.