The Inner Circle (24 page)

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Authors: Kevin George

BOOK: The Inner Circle
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"I understand," Neil said, his words barely out of his mouth before he heard a click, as the phone line went dead.

Neil walked back to the foyer, where his daughter was still waiting for him. He tried to appear happy and normal, but Emily knew him too well to believe that all was okay.

"Do you have to go back to work again?" she asked.

"What work?" his ex-wife asked. "What kind of job do you have that allows you to live this lifestyle? I wish somebody would just tell me something."

"I told you," Neil said, "I work as a consultant for the government. Project development type stuff."

He avoided the questioning gaze from Susan and turned his attention back to Emily, whose sad eyes broke his heart.

"Yes, sweetheart. I do have to go back to work, but not for another week."

"Good, I'm glad you're staying a while longer," Emily said, jumping up and throwing her arms around his neck.

As Neil hugged his daughter, Susan could see a pained expression on his face.

"Something is wrong," she mouthed to Neil, careful not to say anything that would upset Emily.

Neil forced a smile, but did not deny her statement.

-         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -        -        -

 

After two years of noisy construction, the large hanger that held the nearly completed space probe was now silent. Over the past week, James Armour had grown fond of spending time alone in the empty hangar, as he liked to study every facet of the space vehicle, in awe of the incredibly designed and built probe. Technology had come so far since his younger days and he wondered just how much he could have accomplished in space if he'd had machinery like this.

After making his first call to DA – Doomed Astronaut, the pseudonym the rest of the 'Inner Circle' had given to identify Neil Peterson – Armour dialed the second of two numbers.

"Yes?" the voice said.

"DA has been informed and we’ll be moving ahead with Phase One. I'm still awaiting confirmation on the status of Phase Two," Armour said, trying to stress how important he thought it was to find out.

"That will be determined sometime very soon. I will get back to you when I hear about that myself," the voice answered.

Armour hung up the phone, a part of him frustrated that he was receiving so little information. The amount of work Armour had put in the past two years to get this probe built – in total secrecy at that – did not seem to reflect well with President Marshall. Armour had hoped he would work more closely with the president, but the man's snooty little Chief of Staff was making that nearly impossible. Mansfield had been a major thorn in everyone's side, especially because Marshall trusted him more than anyone else and would not agree to see or talk to anyone unless 'Peter approved it.' Armour sometimes wondered which of the two men was really running the show.

I can't worry about him now. I just have to make sure this probe is everything I've promised it would be.

For the hundredth time that day, Armour slowly circled around the probe, carefully studying it. If there were structural problem with the probe, though, Armour would not have been able to tell just by looking at it. Though his knowledge did not lie in engineering, Armour had still seen hundreds of different space vehicles throughout his years spent at NASA and he thought that had to count for something.

The probe was suspended a few feet off of the ground, held in place by four thick metal coils. Armour thought the upright probe resembled a mushroom, with a different sized stalk growing out of each end. The bottom 'stalk' was about twenty feet high and ten feet wide, while the upper 'stalk' was about twice the size. Although the mushroom probe was suspended in an upright pose, Armour knew it would not fly in space in this position. Actually, the probe would fly sideways from how it was now, with the bottom, smaller ‘stalk’ facing forward.

Attached to the right side of the smaller ‘stalk’ was a long cylinder, which would house the nuclear weapon. The rest of this section would be Neil Peterson's home for the four-and-a-half year journey into deep space. The larger ‘stalk’ was actually two different boosters that were connected together to resemble a single large device. The first booster would provide the fuel to lift the probe into space. It would burn twice within the probe's first few hours, but then disconnect from the rest of the ship. The second booster would not be burned until the probe's path intersected with the comet.

The retractable mushroom 'cap' was the part of the probe that made it so different from others like it. The ‘cap’ would also not play a major part in the probe's journey until it reached the comet. At that time though, the cap would open and act as a shield to protect the second booster from damage that loose rocks among the comet's tail would undoubtedly cause. It would also serve as a sort of rudder for the probe, giving Neil greater control maneuver the probe into correct position for the nuke’s release.

There were a few other random parts – antennas, transmission receivers, etc. – that jutted out from the silver and blue probe, but Armour was not sure how well they would survive any damage. Armour knew that they would likely lose contact with the probe on its final run at the comet, but that was something they would worry about when the time came. After all, Peterson knew what had to be done and it might be better if he could just concentrate on his task at hand. Besides, Armour was not too keen on listening to the last moments of life from the man who would save the world.

-         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -        -        -

 

Peter Mansfield hung up his phone and entered the room, not embarrassed whatsoever that he interrupted a Cabinet meeting yet again. He received a few dirty looks from the stuffy politicians, but Mansfield was well aware that everyone present knew just how important it was not to get on his bad side. After all, he was the President's right hand man and many times controlled what Marshall did and did not find out.

The meeting broke a few minutes later and most of the Cabinet members left right away. A few of them hung around to say a few words to the president, but Marshall, Mansfield and Secretary of Defense Wilson were soon the only ones remaining. The past two years of dealing with the comet secret were stressful for everyone involved in the group, but Mansfield noticed that physically, Wilson was the only one who appeared significantly different from before. Henry had always looked and acted much younger than he really was – no doubt, Mansfield imagined, from chasing so many women – but he had aged quite a bit over the past few years. The lines on his face were much more prominent and he'd put on quite a bit of weight, apparently abandoning his exercise routine and healthy eating habits. And when the three men gathered at the end of the large conference table, Mansfield thought Wilson's smell matched that of a chimney. Years ago, Peter had smoked himself, and after hearing about the comet, had been very tempted to start again. But now, when he got a whiff of Wilson, he was glad he hadn't.

"You talked to James?" President Marshall asked, keeping his voice down even though the three men were alone in the room.

"Yes, sir. The probe is ready and Peterson has been informed. The launch should happen in about a week."

Wilson repeatedly tapped a pencil against the desk, not even realizing what he was doing until Mansfield stared down at the noise.

"Sorry," Wilson said. "Haven't had a smoke for a few hours."

"How's everything on your end coming?" Marshall asked. "Will the nuke be where it needs to be by the end of the week?"

"Yes, all of the paperwork has been processed," Wilson explained. "Armour has to make sure he signs off the nuke as official NASA research. I just hope this works. The idea of NASA needing to experiment with nuclear weaponry sounds a bit peculiar. I could get into a lot of trouble if somebody finds out what's going on."

“We could all get into a lot of trouble if somebody found out about our plans,” Marshall said. “But it’s a risk we have to take.”

"Don't worry so much," Mansfield interjected. "The NASA research will be confidential, so much so that nobody will ever even know that the nuke arrived."

"What about the people who had to design and build the probe to allow for the addition of a nuclear weapon? And a weapon firing system?"

"Again, don't worry. Those people have been taken care of," Mansfield assured them.

Marshall and Wilson both looked at each other nervously, not wanting to know if there was any hidden innuendoes involved when Mansfield said somebody had been 'taken care of.'

"I hope this problem won't be taken care of like that worker from NASA," Marshall said.

"I don't know what you are implying, Mr. President. But you, as well as those involved, have nothing to fear. Nobody who worked on the probe was allowed enough information to piece together the whole picture. Armour made sure of that."

Wilson began to tap his pencil again and when Mansfield looked over at him, the Chief of Staff could have sworn the Defense Secretary was avoiding his gaze. Marshall must have noticed this, too.

"Is there something you want to say, Henry?" Marshall asked.

"I don't like this whole thing," he said.

"Could you be a little more specific?"

"Keeping this whole thing a secret," Wilson said. "I don't like it. I think we should just come clean with the public, especially now that we built the probe and will be lifting off in a week."

"You're starting to sound like Ackerman now," Mansfield said, sounding annoyed and yet slightly amused at the same time.

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" Wilson fired back. "I’m wrong just because I don’t agree with you?"

"No, you’re wrong because you make no sense. We've all worked too hard over the last few years to keep this project a secret, and now, less than a week from liftoff, you just want to blow the whole thing open? For what reason?"

"Because it's not fair," Wilson said simply, clearly regretting that he chose to start this argument.

"Fair? Fair doesn't have anything to do with it," Mansfield argued, growing increasingly angrier. "How fair is it to worry the entire world for the next four years while the probe travels to intercept the comet? How fair would it be if the probe failed and the world was sent into chaos? How fair would it be if your guilty conscience cost humankind a chance at survival?"

"Okay, calm down, Peter," Marshall cut in.

"I just think our plans would run much smoother if we didn't have to be so secretive about everything. And I don't think it's fair that we send Peterson off to a certain death without allowing the world to appreciate what he’s going to do."

"That's what you aren't understanding," Mansfield said. "If it was as simple as, 'Hey, we sent a guy in a rocket ship to go stop a comet,' then I would have no problem telling the world. But it's not that simple. It's not even
close
to being that simple. Sure, a victory with this probe would be the biggest, most exciting news in the world's history. But if it doesn't work, any further plans we come up with would be completely crushed and mass hysteria would destroy any hope of survival."

It was obvious to Marshall that both men were arguing from completely opposite directions and that neither would admit when the other was making a good point. Mansfield was getting nowhere but angry and the president needed his Chief of Staff to be thinking clearly and calmly. Wilson was getting nowhere but upset, as the Defense Secretary's face was glowing crimson and he was obviously short of breath. There were far too many obstacles the ‘Inner Circle’ had to avoid and internal arguing had to stop, which meant the president had to make a final decision that would somehow please both men.

"Henry, I understand where you are coming from, truly I do. I realize that if it ever came out to the public that I knew about the comet and kept it a secret, I would become the biggest villain in the history of the world. Hitler? He just killed a few million people. Benedict Arnold? He was just a traitor to his country.

"But George Marshall? There was a man who knew that humankind was being threatened yet he did not tell anyone. Believe me, Henry, I worry about these things all the time. I know that morally, we
should
tell the world. But morals can not cloud our vision at this time. We need to be strong, if only because we believe it is what's best for humanity. We have to plan for the worst, because if we don't, we could ultimately be dooming human existence.

"Now as far as telling the world about the probe and Peterson, we
will
someday. There are just too many question marks we have to deal with first. We are dealing with an unknown spacecraft carrying a nuclear device. I don't even want to think about the fiasco that would be caused if the probe were somehow destroyed during liftoff, or of the damage an exploding nuke would produce. The whole thing would be a public relations nightmare, let alone what it would do to the 'Inner Circle's' future plans."

"I hadn't considered that, Mr. President," Wilson said, apologetically.

"It's okay, I know this whole thing has been extremely difficult for you. It has for all of us. But for now, we need to take one step at a time and not rush into anything we can't rush out of."

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