Origins (17 page)

“With pleasure, Captain.”

Hastelloy gestured for the rest of the crew to head for the exit.  Gallono was the last to reach the door and was passed by Mosa returning to Tomal.  He stopped long enough to ask over his shoulder, “Not too much pleasure though, right Tomal?” and continued on his way.

Mark looked on
from the back of the NASA launch control room.  There were sixty seconds left in the countdown and the room was buzzing with activity.  Directing the frenzy was Dr. Kranz. 

Whatever Mark may have thought about him personally, the man knew what he was about during a launch countdown.  There must have been fifty people working different stations monitoring every system on the space craft, the launch tower, and even the weather conditions.  Alfred Kranz had it all under control, or so he thought.

Witnessing how many things had to go right for a rocket launch to succeed made Mark wonder how any man-made object got more than ten feet off the ground.  The fact that NASA succeeded in sending people to the moon and got them back to earth safely was an honest to goodness miracle. 

Some lesser agents might have been concerned with so many people looking over every square inch of the rocket, but Mark knew the effects of his sabotage wouldn’t be noticed until the third stage engine was engaged.  Then there’d be some serious fireworks. 

Until that time, Mark just sat back and enjoyed his front row seat to the best show on earth.  Mark worked with NASA countless times in the past, but he never had occasion to watch a space launch.  He eagerly looked forward to it like a five year old waiting for Santa Clause to arrive.

Three . . . two . . .  one . . . liftoff.

At first it was like watching a silent film.  A massive plume of smoke bellowed out from under the launch pad.  Soon the cloud grew to conceal half the rocket’s height.  Next, the rocket began rising out of the cloud.  As it did, a long trail of scorching flames from the booster rockets came into view.  The flames were so bright Mark needed to squint to look at them directly.  In its wake, the rocket left a thick trail of white smoke as it rose into the sky.

The rocket cleared the launch tower and Mark still heard nothing.  He knew the launch control center was over three miles away from the liftoff point, and soundproofed as much as humanly possible, but he expected to hear something. 

He was starting to feel disappointed a bit since one of the factoids given on a poster hanging in the visitor center stated a space vehicle launch was the equivalent of turning three million stereos on full blast at the same time. Maybe the person who created that poster used a wimpy sound system in his analysis.

Then a low rumble grew to an almost painful volume and was accompanied by the whole building gently vibrating under his feet.  Mark was suddenly thankful to be inside a sound proofed building.  If he were
outside he’d most definitely be deaf and possibly shaken apart by the pulsing sound waves.

Mark turned his attention to the main view screen to visually track the rocket’s progress.  A collective gasp fell across the room as the screen suddenly turned white.  Air was let back into the room when the camera operator zoomed out to reveal the launch vehicle had simply passed through a cloud.  The rocket was still going strong and gaining speed.

About three minutes after liftoff the first stage separation was executed causing the second stage engines to kick in.  Six minutes later the fuel in stage two ran out.  At an altitude of 110 miles above the earth, the rocket initiated final separation and the engines of stage three fired up.

Mark sat up in his chair anticipating the pending flurry of activity his sabotage would set off.  Soon the corroded fuel line would rupture and leak liquid hydrogen.  Once out of the fuel line the hydrogen would instantly ignite and turn the rocket and probe it carried into a rapidly expanding fireball.

“Dr. Kranz, we have a problem,” Jeremy shouted while still seated at his monitoring station.  “A fuel line is about to rupture.”

Alfred dropped what he was doing and ran to look over Jeremy’s shoulder.  The flight director took a few seconds to evaluate the readings while Mark fought back a smile at seeing everything going according to plan.  He was a little concerned the flaw was spotted so soon though.  Jeremy definitely knew how to do his job.

Alfred stuck two fingers into his mouth and let loose a high pitched whistle to get everyone’s attention.  “Listen up.  We have a fuel line about to blow out on stage three.  If there is any fuel still on the craft when the line gives out we lose the probe.  Throttle up to 100 percent burn rate right now.”

Alfred paused long enough to confirm his order was followed.  During the silence a woman sitting in front of the flight telemetry station lodged a protest.  “We were only supposed to use half the fuel to achieve lunar orbit to meet up with the reactor section.  This is going to fling the probe right out into space.  It’ll be lost.”

“Correction.  The probe might be lost if we do this,” Alfred stated.  “If we do nothing, the probe will definitely be lost.  I’ll take my chances.”

Jeremy chimed in with his report.  “Fuel will be completely spent in another thirty seconds, but the line pressure is reaching critical levels.”

Mark clinched his fists and reached out with every ounce of his being, willing the line to burst before the fuel ran out.  This was not going according to plan any more.

“Yes,” Jeremy shouted as he pumped his fist in the air.  “Full burn is complete.  There isn’t a drop of liquid hydrogen left on the ship.”

“Very well,” Alfred said in a calm voice.  “Separate the probe from the rocket.”

Alfred turned his attention back to the woman seated at the flight telemetry station.  “Julie.  Now that the probe’s course and speed are constant I need you and your team to figure out a way to use the reactor section’s remaining fuel to reach the probe.”

Mark could almost see the gears in Julie’s mind kick in to work out the details.  “We might be able to do it with a couple gravitational slingshots around the earth and moon.  We’ll get right on it.”

Alfred appeared to take comfort that the situation was once again under control.  He slowly turned around and paced back toward his desk.  The flight director didn’t sit down.  Instead he walked past his seat and came to stand directly in front of Mark.

“The Delta II rocket has a nearly flawless service record.  I’ve personally served on or led seventy-five launches with that model of lift vehicle and have never had something like that happen - ever,” Alfred spat.

“The launch was certainly more eventful than I anticipated,” Mark said with a hint of boredom shining through.  “Maybe it was just bad luck that a part made late on Friday got installed.  Lucky for us you were on hand to improvise such a rapid and effective solution.”

The doubt on Alfred’s face was all too apparent.  “We both know this situation had nothing to do with luck - good or bad.”

“What if there isn’t enough fuel aboard the reactor section to escape orbit and chase down the runaway probe?” Mark asked in an attempt to steer the conversation away from any accusations of sabotage.

“We can always start up the fusion reactor and get more propulsion than we know what to do with.” Alfred stated.

“I’m afraid that’s out of the question,” Mark replied.  “For reasons of national security I can’t allow you to start up that reactor until it’s out of orbit.  Remember the tsunami that reactor
’s predecessor caused?”

“Well then, Julie will just have to earn her paycheck this week won’t she,” Alfred said with a sneer.  Abruptly he turned around and walked back to his desk to oversee his new plan of action.

Chapter 24:  Mob Mentality

“
You’re telling
me all those ratios that mathematicians keep coming up with based on the construction of the Great Pyramid of Giza are for real?”  Dr. Holmes doubtfully asked of his patient.

“Not at all,” Hastelloy responded.  “In fact most of those ratios are just plain ridiculous.  I have a good laugh any time I read one of those conspiracy theory websites claiming the height of the pyramid to the fifth power plus the width of their aunt’s eyelash, divided by the third derivative of the radius of the hypothetical circle that fits inside the square base equals the weight of the earth.  Most of that stuff is plain junk, but the relatively simple relationships are real.”

“What about these five rooms you spoke of on the 35
th
layer of the pyramid, why don’t we know about them?” Jeffrey asked.  “Lord knows enough people over the years have spent time looking for other chambers.  It stands to reason they’d be discovered by now.”

“Every day thousands of people go inside the pyramid and walk up to the main chamber I spoke about.  It’s had many names over the years, but right now it’s referred to as the Queen’s Chamber,” Hastelloy answered.  “The reason the other four chambers still remain hidden is because nothing leads to them.  No air shafts, crawl spaces, or anything.  Reaching those chambers would require blasting part of the pyramid away and there’s no way on earth the Egyptian government would allow that to happen.  The pyramid is a national treasure.”

“What you’re saying is I could theoretically hop on a plane tonight and arrive in Egypt by morning.  Then I could use some dynamite to blow away part of the 35
th
level, take what I find and catch a flight back here.  That way I’d be sitting here tomorrow afternoon holding in my hands a piece of advanced alien technology?”  Jeffery asked while fighting back the urge to burst out laughing.  “Is it really that simple?”

“I think you’d miss your flight home and have to deal with an unpleasant 50 year sentence in prison from the Egyptian authorities,” Hastelloy chuckled.  “The short answer though is yes.  It would be that simple.  Proof of aliens visiting earth back in ancient Egypt is right there for the taking.”

Jeffery had to admit he was getting a little frustrated with this game Hastelloy was playing.  He kept hanging on to these notions that proof  existed supporting his delusions, but it just so happened no one could reach them.  It was a very convenient and frustrating way for him to insulate his story from challenges to its validity.

“What would I find in these four rooms?  Was Tomal successful at infiltrating the mid day inspections to find out?”  Dr. Holmes asked.

“Oh yes, he actually came face to face with the only two Alpha who survived the crash.  They removed the gravity coils from the engines their ship used in planetary atmospheres and planned to install them in the four chambers.  The Queen’s Chamber would then house the control unit, but that needed to be installed after the entire structure was complete to properly calibrate the coils, so they had to build an access path to that chamber.”

“Tell me, how would these coils work?”

“The technology is very complicated of course, but the concept is quite simple.  The coils harness the planet’s gravitational forces and then bend it around the ship.  The result is a field that’s subject to its own forces of gravity, independent from that of the planet itself.  This made them ideal pieces of machinery to harness and direct the gravitational energy the pyramid was designed to harness.”

“It sure sounds like these Alpha beings really knew what they were doing,” Jeffery stated with a hint of frustration showing through.  “How were you able to foil their plan?”

Hastelloy leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “What makes you so sure I did?”

**********

Hastelloy consumed his morning meal with the world weighing on his shoulders.  Today was the day each of the four chambers would be sealed over with the next layer of stones.  Today was his last chance to implement a sabotage plan.  A whole lot was riding on the next couple of hours, and a good portion of the action was out of his control.  Hastelloy always got nervous when a battle plan relied on uncontrollable factors.

Tomal taught the other four crew men how to say the phrase,
The god Anubis is coming today.  He is coming during the mid day break
, in the Sigma language. 

All day long from the morning meal to the mid day break the crew spread the rumor to anyone who would listen - god was coming to inspect the monument. 

When the mid day break finally came and the workers got escorted back to the camp, the entire compound was buzzing with excitement.  The opportunity to see their god in real life couldn’t be missed.  Hastelloy listened to the murmur of excitement all around him and felt his state of worry diminish.  The crowd was practically chomping at the bit to unwittingly play their role in his plan.

Hastelloy scanned the top of the pyramid to locate Tomal and quickly spotted the man wearing a white skirt with a bright blue accent sash; the loud ensemble of clothing was difficult to miss.  He waited, and he waited.  Tomal finally gave the signal by crossing his arms behind his back; the Alpha were there.  Hastelloy then crossed his arms behind his own back so the rest of the crew knew the mission was a go.

In four different areas of camp, the crewmen began shouting, “
Anubis is here, god is here.” 
It took no effort at all to get the throngs of people moving toward the pyramid.  The hordes began chanting “
Anubis, Anubis!”
   The handful of guards standing their post was nowhere near sufficient to deal with the volume of people marching on the monument.  The crowd didn’t even flinch as they moved right through the porous line of defense.

The noise and commotion must have reached the overseers on top of the half finished pyramid because the army divisions posted along the outskirts of the complex began moving in.  Feeling time was short to get a glimpse of their god, the crowd transition
ed into a running stampede up the sand ramp leading to the top level.  Hastelloy had no trouble spotting the two seven foot jackal-like figures.  Their menacing bodies towered over those around them.

Sensing the danger coming their way, the two Alpha gave Pharaoh some hasty instructions and bounded off the far side of the pyramid and vanished from sight.  Not content with the brief glimpse of their gods, the mob took over the entire surface of the pyramid’s open top.  Amongst all the chaos and commotion, Hastelloy spotted Gallono ducking into his assigned chamber.  He could only assume Valnor and Tonwen were doing the same.

Hastelloy navigated his way to the chamber in the northeast quadrant and quickly lowered himself into the room.  The gravity coil unit filled almost the entire chamber.  It looked like a simple, dull metal box in order to avoid unwanted attention from the workers who were around it day after day.  Hastelloy slid around the far side, opened a concealed maintenance hatch and proceeded to alter the transmission frequency. 

The new frequency matched Hastelloy’s navigation unit.  If all went according to plan, he’d be able to hijack control of the coils when the need arose.

With the modifications complete, Hastelloy closed the panel and started to take his leave of the room.  He pressed his back against the wall and his legs against the gravity coils metal container.  He then shimmied his way back up to the exit hole in the ceiling. 

Hastelloy froze once he reached the opening when he realized a group of overseers stood only a few feet away.  He couldn’t see much, but he did see Tomal’s white skirt and blue sash.  After what felt like an eternity spent waiting, his calf muscles began twitching uncontrollably.  His legs vibrated up and down like a sewing machine needle.

Running out of options, Hastelloy decided to sneak a quick peak over the edge.  He saw Tomal was making no effort to try and move the group of overseers.  Instead, he was busy protecting Mosa who was cowering behind him.

Fortunately, Gallono thought quick on his feet.  Realizing the Captain’s dire situation, the commander led a mob toward the group of overseers.  The chants of
“Anubis”
grew to a deafening volume, but the overseers held their ground.  Glancing over the edge again, Hastelloy could only see feet and ankles all around him.  Then a familiar set of arms reached under his armpits and yanked him up to the surface.

Hastelloy casually surveyed those around him to see if anyone noticed his sudden appearance from the room below.  None of the slaves paid the least bit of attention, but one set of eyes was transfixed on him and nothing else.  Mosa was staring straight at him from over Tomal’s shoulder.

He should have been panic stricken.  She was among a crowd of overseers.  One word from her and he was cooked.  Instead, Hastelloy was remarkably at ease with the situation. 

He’d have been much more concerned if Mosa quickly looked away when their eyes met. That would imply she wanted to conceal the fact that she knew something.  Instead, her stare was open and unapologetic; she wanted Hastelloy to know that she knew.  He wasn’t sure what game she was playing, but she definitely had her own agenda.  Hastelloy hoped that agenda would become clear to him sooner rather than later. 

At the moment, however, he needed to get out of there.  Amid the confusion of soldiers moving in to disperse the crowd, Hastelloy, Gallono, Tonwen and Valnor made their way back to the camp feeling confident their mission was a success.

Predictably, the evenings work session was a particularly miserable one.  The overseers clearly decided to crack down and make examples of anyone who so much as sneezed.  There was scarcely an individual
whose back did not feel the sting of at least one crack of the whip.

As he worked, Hastelloy kept an eye out for Tomal.  The lieutenant’s inaction during the earlier operation demanded disciplinary action.  On three occasions, Hastelloy witnessed Tomal holler at slaves to get them moving faster, but no lashings were given.  In another encounter, he shoved a slave down to the ground, then picked him up and threw him back into the stone hauling crew.  Again, not a single crack of the whip was heard.

Apparently Hastelloy was not the only one noticing Tomal’s inactive whip.  Nofru gruffly grabbed Tomal by the arm and pulled him away from the rolling log road.  Tomal’s four body guards made ready to follow, but a quick waive of Nofru’s hand put a stop to it.  The two overseers moved behind a cluster of boulders to hide an unpleasant conversation. 

Hastelloy managed to reposition himself to see most of Nofru’s upper body between two of the stones, but Tomal was completely obscured from view.  Hastelloy was too far away to hear the words, not that it would have helped much considering he still didn’t comprehend the language, but Nofru’s sharp angry gestures told the story.  Tomal had not given an adequate number of beatings and that needed to change.

Moments later, Nofru stormed away from the cluster of boulders, leaving Tomal alone.  Now was the perfect opportunity to give Tomal the dressing down he so rightly deserved.

Hastelloy picked up a log with Gallono and carried it towards the start of the primitive stone moving conveyor belt.  Their path just so happened to take them behind the cluster of boulders.  As they rounded the giant stones they found Tomal sitting on his haunches with his back leaning against the stone.  His head was back and his eyes closed in introspective thought.  Hastelloy took one last look around to make sure Tomal’s body guards were still away.  They were so he seized the open opportunity to address Tomal’s blatant and willful failure during the mission earlier in the day. 

He tossed the heavy log aside which snapped Tomal out of his bout of self pity.  The young engineer stood to face the captain’s approach.  As Tomal’s superior officer Hastelloy assumed the power position and got right up in his face.

“What the hell kind of a soldier are you?  Hiding some cowering female behind you is more important than our mission?  Has all the luxury, food, prostitutes and power warped your sense of purpose?  Where were you back there; I was trapped below and you just stood there with your new friends. It was like you wanted me to get captured.”

Tomal gave no answer.  He simply stood there staring at his feet.

Not satisfied with the lack of response, Hastelloy pressed the issue.  His rage got the better of him when he reached up and gave Tomal a shove on the shoulder and shouted, “ANSWER ME!”  Even before Tomal opened his mouth, Hastelloy knew he had just erred badly.

Tomal snapped his head up and yelled in the Sigma language.
“Guards, seize him!  You know the law.  Slaves are unworthy to lay their hands upon an overseer.” 

Out of nowhere Tomal’s body guards came sprinting to his aid.  Two men grabbed Hastelloy, dragged him back into the open, and threw him to the ground.   The other two guards took hold of Gallono for good measure.

Tomal looked around to make sure Nofru was nearby to see what was about to transpire.

“I’ve been too lenient on you peasants, and the events earlier today prove it,”
Tomal cried out. 
“Strip him.”

The guards tore Hastelloy’s cloths away until he lay on the sand wearing nothing but his pride, which was about to be stripped away as well.

Tomal pulled out his cattail whip and changed over to speaking Novan.  “You arrogant bastard.”  CRACK.  “You lead me to this waste of a planet.”  CRACK.  “You disregard my advice and leave me stranded here for eternity.”  CRACK.  “You dismiss and disrespect my talents.”  CRACK.  “Which far exceed your own.”  CRACK.  “You and the other idiots can’t even figure out the language of these primitives.” CRACK.