2084 The End of Days (29 page)

“Look boys, it’s a big deal, but it’s nothing to be afraid of –“

Jack Junior snapped at his father.

“Yes, dad, but you’re getting to go to Mars. We’re too young to get that chance. So you’ll live and we’ll die here on Earth.”

They all looked at each other with pursed lips in momentary silence. Jack thought for a few second before responding. He put his arms around the boys’ shoulders and drew them in close.

“Boys – ah sorely don’t want to leave you here. But ah’ve gotta do my duty and take those guys out to a new life on Mars. But ah promise ya both this – that one day we will all be together again. We’ll meet again in the sweet bye and bye. Promise?”

The boys spoke in unison.

“Okay, pop, it’s a promise.”

“C’mon then, guys, let’s ride back to the ranch. Mom and Justin are makin’ good ole fashioned burgers an’ fries – yeah?”

They all fist pumped into the air and turned the horses around and galloped home yelling and cheering, scattering cattle left and right. Jack reined his horse back slightly to let Milner and Jack Junior gleefully charge ahead as they rode back to the ranch. He did not want them to see the tears which were freely rolling down his cheeks and blinding him. The thought went through his mind that this would be the last of these happy days with his beautiful sons. In fact, Jack was soon to find out how quickly those happy days were to come to an end. As the three of them all crashed cheerily into the big ranch kitchen with the meaty smell of burgers salivating them, Jack immediately saw the worry in Peggy Sue’s eyes.

“Jack, Beth O’Donnell called. You’ve to get up to the White House this afternoon for a meeting with Trueman. They are sending down an air-limo in the next hour to take you back to DC.”

“Did Beth say what was going on?”

“No, but it sounds bad, Jack.”

Milner grabbed his arms around Jack’s torso and cried out. Jack could also see Jack Junior’s lips quivering and restraining tears.

“No, daddy, you can’t go – you’re still on holiday with us. Please don’t go!”

“Sorry, guys, I gotta go. But ah’ll probably be back in the morning –“

Justin, who was standing by the big Aga stove as acting cook, defused the tense situation.

“Hey, c’mon you guys, we’ve still got time for those famous American burgers that you all rave about. Let’s eat!”

*

By four thirty in the afternoon Jack was sitting in the Oval Office with Aaron Eckler, Beth O’Donnell, Ari Schenkler, Ewan Sinclair and Ravi Gupta-Chaudry. Abdullah Suleiman and John Ralston were patched in on the White House conference system. Jack, who had only arrived in Washington half an hour ago in the executive air-limo, had been quickly briefed by Eckler a few minutes ago and the group sat tensely awaiting the arrival of the President. Trueman immediately marched into his office with his private secretary Jimmy Swarbrick. He stood in front of his big comfy executive armchair, looked at the assembled group, then he slammed down his briefing papers with a resounding thump. He then seemed to slump into his chair and opened the meeting with a resigned groan.

“Aw, fuck it all! Can we take any more of this bad news stuff? Ah’m getting’ sick and tired of sitting in front of a camera an’ bein’ the harbinger of doom to the peoples of the world.”

What the assembled group knew and had been briefed on was that at 9:36am that morning, communication had come into NASA HQ, relaying that one of the fleet of twenty five Oceanus spaceships had apparently disappeared without trace. It had five hundred passengers and crew on board. Oceanus XIII appeared to have been destroyed, however, none of the other fleet ships were close enough to Oh XIII to see what had happened. There had just been an immediate cessation of communication from Oh XIII to the fleet and NASA HQ. The boffins at NASA had been poring over all the available data and Eckler’s team had brought the results to this executive briefing. Aaron Eckler nodded at Ewan to begin.

“Mr President, I’m afraid that it is bad news. All data points to X-triple-I being instantaneously destroyed in a catastrophic incident. Although the flight path of the Oceanus fleet is well away from Schenkler’s trajectory, we believe that it is likely that rogue debris has been thrown out of the comet’s tail which has collided with the ship. Indications are that the impact was a direct hit on the fusion drive engine resulting in the ship being instantaneously destroyed in a nuclear explosion.”

Trueman laid his elbows on his desk and covered his etched face with his big hands. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as his fingers threaded worryingly through his thinning wiry hair. Eckler spoke.

“Mr President, they wouldn’t have felt a thing –“

Trueman looked up.

“Who was the commander of X-triple-I?”

Jack replied solemnly.

“Commander Bethan Jones, sir, only twenty six. Ah trained her personally. She was one of ma best students and a sad loss.”

Trueman nodded a thanks at Jack.

“She got family?”

“A dad Andrew and a younger sister Megan, sir.”

“Ah’ll speak personally to them before, um – Bethan – gets plastered all over the news. She is indeed a sad loss, but more than that we have lost five hundred souls an’ we can ill afford that kind of collateral damage. These guys were part of our salvation!”

The group looked towards Eckler who quickly scanned his brief before speaking.

“It is indeed a terrible loss, Mister President. However, we unfortunately had to factor into our risk assessments that out of the fifty Oceanus that we planned to fly to Mars, there was the possibility of losing at least two ships to catastrophic events such as this morning’s with X-triple-I.”

“Jeez, Aaron, we’re only managing to send twenty five thousand to Mars. Surely we cannot afford to lose a thousand?”

“Mr President, we have built in contingency plans for such an event. We have two reserve lists, primary and secondary, and that means that five hundred new immigrants will be selected from the primary reserve list to go on the final launch on 28 February. Jack, your job will be to ensure that you pick the best new crew from your reserve astronauts already in flight training, okay?”

“Ah’ll get down to Houston ASAP and get right on it?”

Trueman responded quizzically.

“Okay, Aaron, so we got the people and the crew ready to go, but ah thought we were only building fifty Oceanus for the job?”

“Admittedly, it’s a tight call, Mr President, but we had already factored in the build of another two Oceanus ships in case they were needed – one in Europe and the other in Iran. I am hoping that PM Ralston and Mullah Suleiman will be able to confirm that they can complete the build and transfer to Alpha Base for pre-launch trials by the end of January?”

Trueman leaned towards the conference screens.

“John? Suleiman? Are you guys able to deliver at least one of these two ships on time?”

London came through first.

“Josh, I’ve spoken with my scientific advisors and although they say there are some technical issues, we are confident that we can deliver you another
Oceanus to Alpha Base by the thirty first of this month. The key funding and resources have been provided by Ranulf Olafsen’s ROMANCE organisation in Sweden.”

Suleiman in Tehran followed up Ralston’s call.

“Josh, my honourable friend. I too have spoken in the last hour with my scientists. They say that the thirty first is a very difficult target, but by stripping the build down to the barest minimums, we believe we can achieve delivery. It will not be a very pleasant trip for the five hundred but we’ll get them to Mars, by Allah we will!”

Trueman turned back to Eckler.

“So does that mean we are going to send another thousand not originally in the plan?”

“Well, Mr President, yes, on the basis that a) Jack’s team passes the two ships fit for purpose after some pretty quick space trialling – Jack?”

“Ah’m on it, Aaron.”

“- and b) it is still on the basis that we unfortunately expect to lose one more ship in our calculations. If they both make it then good and well, although it will mean some overcrowding at Mars Capitol Base. But we will just need to deal with that.”

Josh Trueman was feeling a bit better than when he first entered the Oval Office some minutes ago.

“Well, thank the Lord that there is some good news –“

Ewan interjected slightly nervously.

“Um, Mr President, we may have a little more on the good news front. I’ll let Ari tell you – after all, it is his comet!”

Trueman looked over at the young Israeli astrophysicist.

“Well, Mr President, as you know the Earth has been continually bombarded with debris from the comet’s tail over the last few weeks and months – large meteor showers, which have caused considerable collateral damage and loss of life –“

“Yep.”

“Obviously over those few weeks the Earth has continued on its orbit around the Sun and the Schenkler comet has now effectively passed inside Mars’ orbit and its trajectory places it smack bang on course to collide with Earth on May 26 as predicted –“

“That’s
good
news!”

“Well, no, obviously not, Mr President. However, the comet’s tail is no longer on the same path as Earth, so for the next few months we should be spared the damaging meteor storms that we have been suffering.”

The President looked at his private secretary Jimmy Swarbrick busily scribbling notes on his eTab writer.

“Jimmy, ah’ve got to address the nations on the six o’clock newscast. Write me up a draft speech. Ah think we can demonstrate that out of adversity we still have some hope left to give!”

Chapter 22

Earthdate: 16:05 Friday January 14, 2084 EST

S
ix days after she had broadcast the news report on the loss of Oceanus XIII, Jill was on a welcome break from the stresses of pre-apocalyptic TV journalism. She was attending a 2-day course on space flight acclimatisation at the Kennedy Space Centre in Cape Canaveral, Florida as part of her selection to the secondary reserve list. Although, in the end, she had found that the two days were no less stressful than the day job. Yesterday she had a full day on lift off training and procedures and she was subjected to all sorts of G-force manoeuvres which left her absolutely drained. Today she was on zero gravity training, which included working underwater in full space gear and also taken on a supersonic sub-space flight which performed zero gravity manoeuvres. There was also a simulated spacewalk training session in full space flight gear which was designed to cater for the possibility of transfer from one spaceship to another in case of emergency. Jill found the training very stimulating and enjoyable and she was even going to propose doing a future feature on the training programme for Sky News. However, by four in the afternoon on the Friday she was utterly exhausted and she could not wait to fly back to Ewan in Houston later that night. She was getting her stuff together in the ladies’ locker room when a female flight training assistant popped her head in the door and all the girls getting ready to leave looked up.

“Is there a Jill Geeson in here?”

“Ah’m Jill –“

“Can you give the Senior Flight Training Instructor five minutes of your time?”

Jill finished getting ready and hauled herself and all her bags along to the instructor’s office where she found two male trainees who had been on the two day course also sitting there. Captain Carswell asked her to sit beside the other two trainees and then addressed them all cordially harking back to an old movie from the late 20
th
century.

“Well, how was survival training?”

The three trainees all laughed and in unison answered.

“We survived!”

Captain Carswell then addressed them in a more solemn tone.

“As you are all aware we lost one of our immigrant ships last Saturday – the Oh-X-triple-I –and all on board perished. A terrible thing, awful. In fact, Jill, ah saw your report on Sky – you did a terrific job there – very humbling.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Well, guys, the thing is this. It appears that the boffins are gonna manage to scramble up two more Ohs than had been originally planned. This means we gotta shuffle the reserves around. So you three guys have been selected to move up from secondary tier to primary tier reserves.”

Jill and the other two trainees gasped audibly.

“Now, don’t get your goddam hopes up too high. Still means you’re one step away from an actual seat goin’ to Mars. Hell though, it’s a heckuva lot better than the place ah’ve got – ah ain’t goin’ nowhere!”

Jill could not wait to call Ewan. Somehow, inexorably, she felt their destinies were being slowly drawn together by some higher force. Although, she knew that Ewan would be more pragmatic and view it more from the glass half empty perspective. He would say that she was still not definitely seated beside him on the Mars trip. Bloody scientist!

*

Earthdate: 16:45 Friday January 14, 2084 EST

That same afternoon Jack Crossan, dressed in his full formal space commander’s dress uniform, flew up in his hired Chevy air-car to the small town of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, quaintly preserved since the terrible battle of 1863. As his air-car dropped down into Gettysburg the whole landscape was covered in fresh snow. Eerily the scene from above looked so preserved and out of time that it could easily have been from an old black and white photograph taken back during the American Civil War. Jack arrived at the home of Andrew Jones, father of the ill-fated Space Commander Bethan Jones, and he stepped out of his parked air-car. He hesitated nervously before the house, which sported one of the prized preservation plaques on the red bricked wall. “Civil War Building – July 1863”. Jack was not looking forward to meeting Andrew Jones. However, it appeared that Andrew had been expecting Jack’s arrival and he opened the
small door and ushered Jack in to the tiny living room. A young girl stood in the middle of the room and Andrew, ashen-faced and red-eyed, introduced his younger daughter Megan Jones. They all sat down and Jack drew out a blue velvet covered box from his briefcase, which he opened and turned towards the father and daughter. Megan sobbed softly.

“Mr Jones, may ah call you Andrew?”

Andrew nodded solemnly with his head slightly bowed.

“Andrew – Megan – ah have been sent by order of the President of the United States – Josh Trueman – to, ah, to present you with this posthumous US Air Force Medal of Honor in recognition of the bravery and valour shown by your, ah, your daughter Space Commander Bethan Jones USAF. Bethan gave her life freely and honourably in the pursuit of the survival of the human race. Ah personally knew and trained Bethan and she was a fine student and a skilled astronaut. Andrew – she was a very brave girl – one of the best.”

Andrew leaned over and lightly touched the shining medal, tears rolling freely down his cheeks.

“Andrew, ah would ask you to accept this medal on behalf of a grateful nation – indeed, a grateful world.”

A sort of ironic snort was exhaled from Andrew’s mouth and his voice began to rise in ire not specifically directed at Jack.

“Commander Crossan, c’mon now, what use is this bullshit token to me or Megan?”

“Well, it’s for –“

“Ah know what it’s for, Jack! But what use is such a bauble now? I lost my wife a few years ago to cancer. I’ve now lost my oldest daughter. And in four months’ time I’m gonna lose my only surviving daughter –“

Megan began sobbing a little more loudly and Andrew put his arm around her shoulder protectively.

“- and also my own life. Bethan’s medal will be obliterated along with us. So what use is that?”

Jack bowed his head looking at the glinting medal and his lips quivered as he spoke softly.

“Ah’m also gonna lose the woman ah still love dearly and two young sons too –“

Andrew’s voice softened apologetically and he replied through blinding tears.

“Ah’m so sorry, Jack. Our hearts are just broken over the loss of our beautiful sweet Bethan. We had taken solace in the hope that Bethan was
going to survive on Mars. But that has been taken away from us.”

They all lapsed into a momentary silence and the old Civil War house seemed to creak and groan as if joining in with their collective grief. Then Jack, after a flashing thought, looked up and directly into Andrew’s tear-filled eyes.

“Here’s the thing, Andrew. In six weeks’ time ah’m Fleet Commander for the last flights to Mars of the Big-Oh fleet. It would be ma honour to take an’ wear Bethan’s Medal of Honor an’ ah promise you and Megan that your daughter’s medal will find a special place of honour in Capitol Base. How would ya feel about that?”

Andrew’s eyes lit up and Megan gripped her father’s arm excitedly.

“You would do that for ma Bethan? Then she would be remembered forever?”

“It would be ma honour an’ privilege to do that for you, Andrew.”

Andrew was too choked to speak, but Megan cried out happily.

“Oh, daddy, it would be like Bethan made it to Mars for us after all.”

*

Earthdate: 14:10 Monday February 21, 2084 CST

Thunder clouds were massing to the north of the Johnson Space Center but the onset of a massive electric storm had not deterred the crowd of almost one million from converging on the perimeters of the Shuttle Launch Pad. All the major 3DTV networks were also in prime position. It was estimated that the 15:00 hours launch of the last Jupiter Galaxy V shuttle carrying the final 100 immigrants up to Alpha Base for transfer to Oceanus LII would command the largest single TV audience in history. They would be watching the final chosen few carrying all the hopes and dreams of the whole of mankind. However, what the watching humanity was unaware of, was that the storm rolling in was seriously jeopardising the chance of a successful take-off for the mighty shuttle. Man’s future seemed to be being dogged by the forces of nature at every turn. Back at Houston Control nerves were frayed to breaking point. This launch represented the final window of opportunity to transfer these immigrants before the last Oceanus fleet sailed in one week’s time on 28 February for Mars. Any delay to the fleet’s departure after that date would seriously jeopardise any of the Oceanus craft still within the predicted blast zone caused by Schenkler’s devastating and total impact with Earth on 26 May. This would mean that Aaron Eckler’s risk assessment of the loss of one more Oceanus could turn out to be a grave underestimation. Eckler knew that the bottom line was that the shuttle had to take off today or it was not going anywhere. Eckler also knew that he had another major problem. On board Oh LII the ship was carrying Jack Crossan and Ewan Sinclair. Both Jack and Ewan had been held back to the last because their work on the programme back here on Earth had been crucial to the success of the Mars mission. However, Eckler now knew that if they did not take off today the Oceanus fleet was losing its appointed Fleet Commander and its best astronaut and Mars would undoubtedly be without its best astrophysicist. As the time check boomed around the Johnson Space Center and Houston Control - “T-minus-49 and counting” - Eckler snapped at Director of Control Irene Dupré standing beside him.

“Christ, Irene, what’s the latest weather check on that storm?”

Irene tapped through to the weather controllers’ latest update and turned to Eckler.

“It’s lookin’ pretty bad, Aaron. Weather guys say it will be right on top of us in about 40 minutes – right before launch.”

“Aw shit, that’s all we need. These shuttles are pretty sturdy beasts, but you and I know they are really designed for fair weather launches.”

Irene nodded in agreement.

“What ah’m also worried about is the condition of the shuttle crew. They’ve been up and down to Alpha Base delivering the immigrants, the flora, fauna, DNA stockpiles and all the other stuff needed for the trip. They’re just about at breaking point, Aaron.”

“Well, Irene, looks like we are all in the lap of the Gods – as per usual.”

On the launch deck area Jill was having her own problems. She was the only TV reporter in the world who had made it on to the flight selection lists, albeit, only on to the primary reserve list. This meant that she had been given the requisite space flight and launch training. For that reason Jill had been selected as the only reporter to be able to report via a static camera link attached to the corridor deck leading directly on to the huge Jupiter Galaxy V. No other TV crew were authorised to be on the launch deck, only ground crew. Jill stood pensively in front of the camera in full space flight gear with her helmet tucked awkwardly under her arm. Half an hour ago before she went on air she had had an emotional farewell with an equally tearful Ewan. He begged Jill to be allowed to stay.

“Jill, I’m sick to my stomach. I don’t want to leave you. I love you too much to go.”

Before Jill answered she bit hard on her lip to stop herself from crying. She watched the other immigrants filing past on the covered derricked corridor leading on to the shuttle. She turned to Ewan dry-eyed and almost hissed at him.

“Ewan Sinclair – get your arse on that ship right now! Those people there are going to need your expertise up there on Mars!”

Jill pulled Ewan in towards her and kissed him hard on the mouth. Then she immediately pushed him away towards the shuttle entrance door. She turned her back on him as if concentrating on the static camera that she was going to give her worldwide report to. She did not want Ewan to see the tears rolling freely down her face in case he failed to leave her. When she glanced around a moment later he had gone on board.

“T-minus-45 and counting.”

The booming announcement over the tannoys snapped Jill back into her present predicament. The impending lightning storm had been playing havoc with the 3DTV electronics and the anchorman at Sky News had been trying unsuccessfully in the last five minutes to cue Jill in. She had to be off the derrick by T-minus-20, so if she did not get a report in by then it would be too late. Jill’s director was screaming frantically down into her headpiece.

“Fucking hell, Jill. We’re still not getting any feed from the camera and we weren’t hearing you until a coupla minutes ago.”

“What should ah do then? Just go on sound report only?”

“Aw fuck it, Jill, I don’t know. Give the fucking camera a good bloody shaking and see what happens.”

Jill gave the static camera a thud and immediately her director screamed back that she was now in full view on TV and he directed the anchorman to bring her on air in five seconds.

“And now we can go over to our reporter at the shuttle launch – Jill?”

A large rumble of thunder and the start of a heavy downpour introduced Jill’s report. As she began, she wondered if anyone was hearing or seeing her, but she soldiered on anyway. Jill could not be sure, but indeed the world was watching.

“This is Jill Geeson reporting for Sky News. I am standing on the gangway just yards from the last of the momentous launches into space from planet Earth of the mighty Jupiter Galaxy V shuttles. On board are 100 men and women who represent the last surviving hopes of mankind. In just over 30 minutes they will take off to join the other twenty odd thousand men and women who will blast off from Alpha Base in a week’s time on route to
mankind’s new planet of hope – Mars!“

“T-minus-29 and counting.”

A large bolt of lightning snaked its way down from the heavens and struck the nose cone of the shuttle. The big Jupiter was fully earthed and the electricity dissipated harmlessly, but the near strike badly rattled the already frayed nerves of Canadian pilot Captain John Alexander and German co-pilot Flight Lieutenant Vibka Liebherr. The radio crackled and Lex Kosloff in Houston Control came on.