Double Cross (17 page)
“Pointless, pointless, pointless,” Dr. Jordan muttered.
“Is it, sir? What if I uncabled the Hammerhead and decided to circle Mars and destroy the dome? Is that possible?”
“Your family and friends live beneath that dome. You would not be so insane.”
“Sir,” I repeated, “does this space torpedo have the capacity to destroy planetary targets?”
There was a long pause. Finally he answered. “In theory, yes, it does.”
“Including targets on Earth.”
“A ridiculous statement.”
“Sir, does this space torpedo have the capacity to destroy targets on Earth?” My eyes could trace the safety cable. It was barely visibleâand my only link to the Habitat Lander.
“In theory, yes,” he answered. “But your questions are impertinent. If you don't learn to listen better, you probably won't be given a chance to explore space again.”
That was a threat, and I understood it very well. But this was more important than my career as a space pilot. “Yes, sir,” I said. “I'm afraid I have just a few more questions.” The questions that Dad and I and Rawling had discussed in the morning over coffee.
“No,” he said, his voice rising. “Begin the countdown.”
I gulped and continued. “The earliest any astronomer could have spotted the comet was five months ago. Yet this space torpedo was loaded for shuttle to Mars well before that. Can you explain why?”
Dr. Jordan answered immediately. “If you had any brains, you'd realize design work on the Hammerhead would have begun at least 10 years earlier. Obviously then no one knew the comet would appear. So the conclusion is simple. This project was started in anticipation that a comet or asteroid might someday threaten Mars or Earth. It is a timely coincidence that the Hammerhead arrived here when it did.”
“A
coincidence
?”
He evidently caught my tone of disbelief. “Do not forget that, in many ways, the dome is a
military
operation. Insubordination is not an option. Now begin the countdown!”
“Two more questions, sir,” I insisted. “One, why is the virtual-reality program set up for pilot combatâif, as you say, the Hammerhead is designed to only fight comets?”
“Begin the countdown!”
“Sir, I believe,” I continued stubbornly, “that the Hammerhead is designed as a weapon of war. I believe it will break the weapons ban treaty to test this new laser. I believe once the Hammerhead has proven itself, the military will have the ultimate fighting weapon. And with political unrest on Earth, it will give total dominion to whichever government controls the Hammerhead.”
“You are out of line!” Dr. Jordan shouted so loudly that my ears hurt.
My dad interrupted. “Jordan, talk to my son civilly. Or speak to me directly.”
“Your
son
.” It sounded like Dr. Jordan could hardly hold his anger. “Your
son
is out of order.”
“Is he?” Dad asked. “Or is he getting close to the truth here?”
Silence.
I filled it. “Sir, I have just one more question.”
If I was right, the Hammerhead would truly be unstoppable. It could circle the Earth at speeds unknown to any previous military weapon. With a red burst, it could hit any target, raining horror down from the sky. I was ready for my final question.
“Dr. Jordan, will you please tell me why the telescope was not operational? Why, when it was fixed, I could not find the comet at the coordinates given to Dr. McTigre?”
Rawling is going to find out more about the techie responsible for the telescope. It can't be an accidentâthe fact that the telescope wasn't working.
“Mr. Sanders.” Dr. Jordan's voice was so furious that it cracked. “Command your son to obey!”
Dad's words came through loud and clear in my helmet. “My son is the pilot. He is in control of the ship. I will respect his decision. As shall you. And I, too, find it very interesting that the comet you say we're targeting does not exist.”
I wanted to cheer at the stern anger in Dad's voice.
“Begin the countdown,” Dr. Jordan ordered me.
“Immediately.”
“Are you saying that you have no answer?” I asked. “Or are you saying that the threat of a comet does not exist? Are you saying it's a manufactured excuse so that governments on Earth will not question you as you break the international weapons ban treaty to test the greatest military equipment invented in the history of humankind?”
“Begin the countdown.
Immediately.
” Dr. Jordan was almost shouting.
“Will you answer my questions?”
“I repeat, begin the countdown!” he yelled full force into my helmet.
“Sir,” I said calmly, “might I remind you of the space pilot's first rule?”
“Begin the countdown. Immediately. That is a direct order,” Dr. Jordan barked.
He didn't sound like a scientist. He sounded like a military general. My hunch had been proven right.
“Sir, I believe it is unsafe to proceed,” I said. “I abort this flight.”
Fifteen minutes later, I was inside the Habitat Lander. Part of me ached with regret for how badly I had wanted to take the Hammerhead into space. Yet I knew a few moments of freedom outside my wheelchair compared so little to the terror that the Hammerhead could inflict on Earth, if it was transported back and launched from the moon.
One look at Dr. Jordan's face through his space helmet, and I knew he was furious. His face was puffed with anger. All that showed through his space helmet were his eyes, his nose, and his bared teeth.
He and I both knew he could not force me to fly. No one, not even the highest military general, had the power to make a pilot break the safety rule.
I thought then that I'd won. That even with an hour until our shuttle finished its orbit and was in position to return to Mars, the Hammerhead would not fly.
I was wrong.
“Ashley,” Dr. Jordan said a few seconds after I had pushed my way into the crew area, “remember when I told these two you were merely a sightseer, along for the ride?”
“Yes.” Her voice was barely audible in our space helmets.
“Now is the time they learn the truth about you. That you, too, are capable as a test pilot.”
Ashley nodded very slowly. A glint of silver inside her space visor caught my eye from the earring she wore. The one that matched mine around my neck. Seeing the earring reassured me. I knew what she believed. I could trust her. It was a symbol, too, of our friendship. She wouldn't fly. Not after our conversation on the telescope platform last night.
“Prepare for a target mission,” Dr. Jordan hissed.
“Yes,” she said.
She's betraying me again!
“Ashley! You can't.”
“I can. And I will.” She paused. “I don't want any help in the cargo bay. Not from either of you.”
Now it was reversed. Me in the observation window of the Habitat Lander. Me looking down on the space helmet that showed through the much smaller observation window of the Hammerhead.
The space torpedo was still tethered to the much larger Habitat Lander. It hung in orbit with us. As a backdrop, the giant red surface of Mars moved slowly beneath it.
It could have been me there, ready to explore the space beyond Mars.
But it was Ashley.
And, unlike me, she had begun the preignition countdown.
Tiny flares, each as bright as a sun, suddenly burst from the rocket nozzles of the Hammerhead.
“Excellent, Ashley,” Dr. Jordan said. “Now go ahead and release the safety cable.”
I could only imagine a click as the Hammerhead released it. The cable floated harmlessly away.
“Thank you, Ashley. You know your mission. Stay in radio contact as long as possible. We will monitor you on radar and with satellite transmitters.”
Inside the Hammerhead was the equivalent of a GPS, which would fire radio waves back to a locator on the Habitat Lander.
“Yes,” Ashley said. “But I won't make it past Phobos.”
“I don't understand,” Dr. Jordan said.
“Watch,” she replied. “You'll understand soon enough.”
The Hammerhead lifted slightly and hovered beside the Habitat Lander's observation window. Through the small window of the Hammerhead, I couldn't see Ashley's faceâjust the dark globe of her space helmet against the lighter background of her space suit.
“Tyce,” Ashley said. “Good-bye, my friend. I wish it didn't have to be like this. I wish it could have been different. Remember what I told you at the telescope. Remember the silver earring.”
Then the Hammerhead waggled, like fingers waving good-bye.
With a burst of brightness, she and the Hammerhead disappeared into the solar system.
We watched it on radar. For 3,500 miles the Hammerhead continued to gain speed on its approach to Phobos, that small moon only 18 miles wide.
The Hammerhead did not swerve.
Twenty seconds before impact, Dr. Jordan began to shout in disbelief.
Ten seconds before impact, I began to prayâwith my eyes open. I couldn't pull my eyes away from the radar screen, which showed a tiny, fast blip moving toward a bigger, much slower blip.
Five seconds before impact, I moved to the observation window and stared out into the deep black of the solar system.
One second before impact I took a deep breath and said good-bye. By then there was no mistaking Ashley's intent. It takes bullet-like accuracy to hit the only object in space between Mars and the asteroid belt millions of miles away.
Then there was impact.
I heard it through the alarm bell on the radar screen. And saw it. A bright bloom of light flashed off as quickly as it had flashed on, leaving only the deep darkness of space.
And a deep emptiness in my heart.
Two days had passed since Ashley chose to pilot the Hammerhead into Phobos. For those two days, after arriving back on Mars, I'd been locked in my room, refusing to talk to anyone except Mom and Dad.
I knew everyone under the dome would be in shock, and I didn't want to hear them talk about Ashley being dead. Last night Mom and Dad told me that the new impact bowl on the face of Phobos, easily seen from the dome's telescope, had been named Ashley's Crater. I'm not sure I'll ever want to go up to the dome's telescope again.
I wonder if anyone on Earth will ever know the price Ashley paid to keep their blue sky a place of safety, not death.
After the “test run,” I had arrived home so exhausted that I hadn't even had the strength to put any of my thoughts on my computer. Until now.
It's like what Dad and I just talked about. Every sword always has two edges: a good side and a dangerous side.
Nuclear fission could be used as a source of cheap energy. Or it could make a bomb that would destroy entire cities.
Genetic research could save lives with medical advances. Or be used to create hideous new creatures.
The Hammerhead could help us by sweeping away asteroids or comets that threaten human life. Or it could destroy millions of lives if military people used it to try to control the universe.
And so on. Every new invention or advance could be used for good. Or not for good. That was the two-edged sword.
I leaned back in my wheelchair and sighed.
I wished badly that Ashley would step through the doorway and give me a big grin.
I wished badly that she was up at the telescope, waiting for me.
I wished badly that I could have the chance to apologize for what I'd said to her the other night. I wished I could tell her that I understood she really lived what she believed. That by sacrificing her life, she had given all she could for others.
Most of all, I wished I could go back in time and let her wreck the Hammerhead with her robot, so she wouldn't have had to do it the way she did in space.
But I wouldn't have that chance.
All I'd have were memories.
As Dad explained, evil is part of the two-edged sword. Evil exists because God allows us to make choices. He wants us to
choose
to love and obey him, instead of being forced to do what he wants us to do. As humans, sometimes we choose to do good. But other times we choose to do evil. That's why evil exists, and sometimes bad things happen that are outside our control. Like the fact that Ashley felt she had no other choice than to take the Hammerhead into a direct collision course with Phobos. Otherwise, the Hammerhead could have been used to destroy millions on Earth. And like the fact that she had to be so secretive about her past, in order to protect the others she'd talked about. Just who were those others? I wondered.
Then Dad and I talked about Ashley's death. I asked him why she had to die so young. Dad said he didn't have an answer for that. And that there were some things we would not know until we got to heaven and could ask God face-to-face. The most important thing, Dad said, was to trust in God. To know you had a place in heaven. That you didn't have to be afraid of the mysteries of his universe.
