Herculanium (12 page)

“You’ve done so much for all of us. I don’t know how to thank you.” Micky stepped forward and stared deep into Max’s eyes. “We’ll see each other soon, so don’t you worry.”

“I packed something special in your luggage, Mick. Don’t forget to look at it when you unpack.”

“You’re a kind man,” she said with a seductive smile. She kissed her own finger and gently rubbed it on his cheek. Slinging her travel bag on her shoulder, she exited the bus, glancing at him as she descended the steps.

Max shook the hands of each of the departing scientists, putting on his trademark mock-smile. As the last member disembarked, his stared at the empty row of chairs that were so full of life just moments ago. The music was silent, as were the hanging video monitors. He rubbed his eyes to prevent tears from flowing, then tapped the driver on the shoulder to drive away.

Preston took several strides forward, then stopped. He stood motionless for a good minute, causing Micky and the rest of the passengers to wait behind him. With his overcoat fluttering in the wind like a cape and his sunglasses covering his eyes like a mask, Preston towered above the crowd like a superhero come to life. His dramatic entrance incited the crowd into a monstrous applause, which got even louder as he slowly took off his sunglasses.

His ego appeased, he then swaggered towards to the entrance, not bothering to turn his gaze anywhere but forward.

Micky followed a few steps behind him. She waved and blew kisses to the crowd, still amused by her new celebrity status. She even struck a mock-superhero pose, imitating Preston’s gesture, before disappearing inside.

The rest of the scientists were joined by the other passengers of the convoy. They all took a collective bow before walking through the entrance, blowing kisses and acting childish before the cameras.

Preston inhaled deeply as he waited with the others for further boarding instructions. The pronounced, sterile air gently stung his nasal passages, again setting the tone for their stellar trip. The boarding terminal looked more like the lobby of a movie theater than an airport’s. Multi-colored, patterned carpeting ran the length of the floor and walls, accented by impressionistic sculptures and paintings that hung on the walls and ceiling. A cathedral-like rose window yawned at the center of the elevated roof, its stained glass paneling colored with the constellations visible above the airport. Ticket booths and concession stands seemed to blend into one, flanked from all sides by various video display terminals and decorated columns. The once-raucous crowd outside had disappeared into misshapen blurs behind soundproofed, misted glass windows. Several security personnel stood in attention at strategically-placed spots, a necessary precaution for such a publicized event.

A uniformed, attractive usher directed everyone to move forward and walk through a scanning arch. It was another innovation for Olympus, where both passenger and luggage could be safely scanned together at once. It was then off through a winding corridor that led to a small ascending escalator. The deeper they traveled inside the terminal, the more isolated they became.

“Welcome to the Olympus Station’s waiting terminal,” said another usher standing ahead of the crowd. “We will be boarding in approximately two hours. I’d like to direct your attention to our lounge. Please take this time to relax, and take full advantage of our open bar. Have a pleasant trip.”

“I can’t believe they’re making us wait this long to fly out. I want to go right now.” Micky smiled at Preston as they both stared at the shuttle sitting on the runway. “How about you? You excited?”

Preston ignored her, absorbed in his own thoughts. He stared at the shuttle like an engineer, analyzing every window, wing fin and thrust turbine. He observed all the workers as they performed final checks and diagnostics, carefully seeing if any of them had any negative reactions to the shuttle maintenance. He then turned his attention to the jumbo jet piggybacking the shuttle, seeing if his pretend x-ray vision could come up with any faults. Everything seemed to check out satisfactorily, although he always had doubts about everything.

“You know,” continued Micky, “Max told me that the shuttle is like those old SR71-Blackbird spy planes last century, where the hull would actually expand and contract with heat. They’ve compensated for the size differential, especially when transporting multiple passengers. What do you think about that, Preston?”

Unblinking, Preston continued to scan both ships.

“Which of my tits do you think is bigger, Tina or Marie?” She walked away, not even bothering to wait for a response. Either he was totally engrossed in his own bizarre world, or he was just plain ignoring her. She reminded herself that she was doing this assignment for herself, and not for anyone one else.

Why couldn’t Preston be more like his agent, Max?

After an eternity past the appointed boarding time, they were finally cleared to enter the shuttle. True to form, flight delays were a constant with orbital flights, as well.

Shuttle engineers finally opened the boarding doors and motioned everyone to come forward. With Preston taking the point, they were escorted through a short tunnel that led to the top of an open staircase on the tarmac. Micky’s eyes widened in disbelief at the view before her. With the sun already low on the horizon, the tarmac stretched deep into infinity, striped with lines that fanned out in all directions. It was aglow with multi-colored runway lights that lit the ground like a flickering marquee sign. The shuttle/jumbo jet tandem sat unassumingly several dozen yards away, a giant magic carpet set for a wondrous journey.

As they descended the steps and proceeded towards the shuttle, a roar of applause came from beside them. Their relatives stood cheering from a protruding observation platform in an adjacent terminal. Micky waved to her large family as she walked, staring into each of their proud faces in acknowledgement. Although the crowd was mostly made up of other people’s relatives, Preston was still able to pick out his lone wife. He blew her a subtle kiss and whispered “I love you” in her direction. Erica Spain waved back and wiped her eyes.

They ascended the steps to the shuttle, each person waved a final goodbye before disappearing through the door. The crowd continued to cheer until the last person entered and the motorized ladders were retracted. Take-off was reported to still be an hour away, and the warm Bay-area sunset had given way to a cool Pacific evening. But through it all, destiny’s clock continued to tick.

Preston ran his finger around his collar and pulled forward, loosening it around his throat. The pressure suits they wore underneath their clothing were quite light, but still took a little bit of getting used to. The on-board restrooms, known as comfort rooms, were quite spacious, especially for shedding attire. All the passengers were given assigned seating, with Preston and Micky placed near the front. The other scientists took up much of the seating in the middle and rear of the cabin.

Three wide rows of seats ran the length of the fuselage, with each walkway conveniently lit to prevent stumbling. All the passenger chairs were plush and ergonomic, allowing for comfortable reclining and movement. The windows allowed a wider view than normal, complete with an automated tinting feature to block out excessive sunlight. Each armrest had a customized control panel that enabled the passenger to do a variety of commands by remote. The classic reading light and vent features were still there, but were more concentrated to each seat. Sound speakers were built into the headrest itself, and the in-flight movie could be viewed through virtual display visors situated above the retractable dining tray.

Micky, unlike the rest of the passengers who passed the time away experimenting with the various armrest features, went straight to work. She retrieved a pen and notebook from her handbag and began writing notes almost as soon as she sat down. In this place, there would was no shortage of ideas to cover, or to explore.

Preston couldn’t help but notice her irritating zeal. “You’re not going to be like that the whole trip, are you?”

“I’m doing my job, Mr. Jones. I’m doing what I’m getting paid to do, just like you.”

“You don’t have to bite my head off. I’m just asking.”

“You’ve said more words to me just now than the rest of the time I’ve known you.”

“You’re exaggerating, Ms. Suarez. I’ve just been busy. Put yourself in my position.”

“My name is Micky, and yes, I
am
in your position. I’ve been sensing animosity from you since even before the first press conference. Am I just imagining that?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Your buddy Max isn’t here to stick up for you, so why don’t you stop the stiff upper lip routine and answer my question? Did I do something to offend you?”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Ms. Suarez.”

“I suppose saving your life doesn’t merit a ‘thank you’ either, does it?”

“If you want to build your entire career on saving my life, that’s your business. You don’t know that bullet would’ve killed me. It was most likely going to miss me, anyway. But nonetheless, you took it upon yourself to launch your career riding the coattails of my success. That, Ms. Suarez, makes you an opportunist.”

“Is that what this is about? You think I’m some kind of leech? Look, Max offered me this position. If you were so much against it, why did you agree?”

“Because Max is my friend. He always had a good reason for all his decisions, at least until now.”

Micky turned away. Had this been any other scenario, she would’ve slugged him where he sat.

“You honestly think you’re more qualified than the reporters at the big networks? Before this launch, you hadn’t proven anything to anyone yet. And as far as I’m concerned, you still haven’t.”

Micky gritted her teeth. “Who the hell are you to criticize my achievements?”

“No, you are not in my shoes, nor will you ever will be. You are Ms. Suarez, I am Preston Jones.” He curled his lips and exaggerated his pronunciation of his own name. “I know my place here, and I also know yours. I suggest you get used to it.”

Micky blinked in disbelief, not knowing how to react. Was he correct? Was she just an under-qualified opportunist riding the success of others?

She looked down and continued to write in her notebook, her penmanship digging deeper through the paper, her anger overtaking her thoughts. In a final act of frustration, she threw her pen and pad down on the floor and left her seat.

Preston stared as she walked away, shaking his head and smiling.

* * *

Richard Peryson stared out into space, still unbelieving the wonder before him. He stood atop a catwalk within the control tower, overlooking a sea of workers monitoring every possible detail of the orbital flight. From life-sign readings and environmental temperature shifts, to electric diagnostics and orbital projections, everything was under close scrutiny. A sea of glimmering monitors stretched around the structure’s floor and dome, scattered and misshapen like a shattered crystal bowl. The background symphony of electronic sounds was accompanied by the chatter of frenetic workers and the whine of its multiple elevators.

He was literally in the middle of the world’s most impressive astronomical observatory. With his years of negotiations and dealings throughout the world, very few events or structures impressed him enough to just stay quiet and stare.

Tonight, he was quite impressed.

A large digital clock loomed above the catwalk’s central viewing window, counting down the shuttle’s departure at 7:00 p.m. sharp. So much time had elapsed since the passengers boarded the Isis that he wouldn’t be surprised if they all were asleep. Most of the relatives stayed inside their viewing terminal, still waiting to cheer their loved ones on as they flew off to the great beyond. On-board cameras had yet to be turned on, so he wasn’t quite sure of the passengers’ status. Departure was less than an hour away, and all that was needed was the go-ahead from the flight director. Peryson himself was getting impatient.

Deep inside, he wished he was on board the shuttle and joining his clients. Unfortunately, that would have to wait another day.

* * *

Max stood quietly at the terminal window. He had spent most of the day getting acquainted with the passengers’ loved ones, and was mentally exhausted. He also changed his mind about meeting with Peryson before the flight. He figured there wasn’t anything that couldn’t wait until after the shuttle departed, and that his time would be better spent with these relatives. He shared time with Preston’s wife, Erica Spain, whom he had met many times before. Micky’s family was just as energetic as she was, so full of life and hope. Max was not alone that night, for he was just as much a loved one as anyone in that terminal.

He stared out in the horizon, past the airport lights and into the beaded hills overlooking the Bay. He knew exactly where all the major landmarks were in relation to the airport, and he squinted to see if he could view them. He even knew where his house was, no matter where he was in the peninsula. But beyond the glare, everything was pitch black. All Max could see was his own reflection looking back, and he could see a sad man. He felt as dark as the ocean waves crashing in the Bay that night.

* * *

Like the stroking of piano keys, the overhead aisle lights came on in succession. Stewardesses began to file in, going straight to their assigned sections. The soft buzz of intercom static came from the onboard speakers, indicating a forthcoming announcement. Preston and Micky sat motionless in their chairs, doing their best to ignore each other. The scientists clapped wildly and cheered.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Flight 1611, flying non-stop to Olympus Space Station. It is a cool 55 degrees outside, with winds blowing southeast at 10 miles per hour. We would like to take this opportunity to remind everyone to please observe the safety rules and procedures of the shuttle, and for everyone to remain seated until otherwise instructed. Our ETA is approximately six hours, so please sit back and enjoy the flight. On behalf of our crew, I am Captain Mendoza. We thank you for flying TransAstra.”