Knightwood had been eyeing Erin curiously while she spoke. Never in all the years she had known her had Erin ever delivered a more passionate speech; but while Knightwood found it odd, she would have applauded it had discretion not been necessary.
Knightwood focused her attention again and looked about at the others; their faces expressed various levels of surprise. The council appeared partially persuaded, but then again who knew for how long. Erin’s squadron mates seemed a bit stunned. Yet Knightwood wasn’t surprised, only pleased. There was a stubborn, resolute, indomitable streak in Erin’s reserved but amiable character that Knightwood had sensed long ago, and she had expected it to surface at some point; in the gap of silence that dragged by, Knightwood collected her arguments and called for the council’s attention. It was time to let them in on the greatest news of all.
“Ahem, fellow councilors, may I speak?” Knightwood said, drawing their attention. “It may interest you to know that in the past few months since Dr. Zhdanov, Dr. Cheung, and I were granted clearance to examine the alien ship, we have made some unexpected progress. Many of the sections have remained sealed despite our efforts, but we have detected no further life signs that we know of, except encased biological specimens, no doubt once used for scientific studies. Many of the artifacts have been analyzed, providing a wealth of information on our alien civilization, which I must admit leaves me inclined to agree with our young lieutenant here.
“The UESF does not feel that the aliens that sent this ship to Earth ever intended its capture,” Knightwood continued decisively, “nor would they wish the rare and beautiful objects they crafted to be pawed by a cruel race clearly insensitive to the survival of other forms of life, including those of the Earth. Yet we do not know how much longer we can keep its existence secret, or vouchsafe the powerful tools on board. Granted, the last assault appears to have bought us a little time. But grounded on Earth, the ship here would inevitably become a target, perhaps even causing,” she paused dramatically, “the complete destruction of our planet.
“Now, it might be true that the aliens at Charon chose Earth as a target, knowing nothing of this vessel–then again perhaps capturing this ship itself is indeed their goal.” Knightwood paused again, lowering her eyes thoughtfully. “But if we could use the grounded spaceship’s technology to our advantage, to even the odds, we might bring the conflict back to space and spare our children from this nightmare.”
“What?” Knightwood’s old friend Representative Fabrichnova reacted, catching her breath sharply as Knightwood leaned back in her chair.
“Ridiculous!” Representative Tipler exclaimed at the top of his voice. “Fantasy! How long would it take for us to even learn to use the ship’s mechanisms?”
“Not as long as you would think to get it off the ground–” Knightwood failed to interject any further.
“And how do we know we wouldn’t be activating some alert that would draw the aliens from Pluto here?” Tipler continued quickly, goaded by an indignant perception of the conspiracy surrounding him. “We don’t even know what the “sealed rooms” as you call them are holding–there might even be hostile aliens inside, lying dormant until we try something as foolish as what you’re suggesting. And since the ship crashed, do we have any guarantee it still flies? That the weapons function, that we wouldn’t blow ourselves to pieces trying to figure it all out?”
Tipler’s face reddened to a beet red, the vein in his neck enlarged and pulsing. Wide sweeping gestures of the arm accompanied the man’s speech, ending as he balled his fist and slammed it against the table. For a moment, the council appeared to waver, considering Tipler’s diatribe and ready to dismiss Knightwood’s ludicrous suggestion.
“That never happened,” Knightwood responded calmly, even coyly, her finger on her cheek as she shook her head.
“What?” Kansier suddenly rose in his chair, his face pallid.
“You mean–” Even Secretary Hilbert was able to find his voice in time.
“Actually, once we deactivated the trigger mechanism, the weapons systems were relatively easy to figure out, but until we were able to find the engine room–” Zhdanov began to speak. The tall Ukrainian scientist had been silent throughout the discussion, waiting to play his trump card. There was a flash of triumph in his deep-set, dark brown eyes, beneath his deliberate nonchalance.
“So the ship might fly after all?” Kansier interrupted again.
In no time the meeting digressed into pandemonium as conversations broke out over the room.
Dr. Cheung stood and shouted for quiet. His dark eyes continued to glance around the room once the company was settled down until he was absolutely sure no one would interrupt. Knightwood and Zhdanov had asked him to help maintain control over the situation. Hopefully, their calm, united front would intimidate the council into agreeing with Knightwood’s plan.
“We’ve been learning to operate the controls from the large command center Major Watanabe’s Blue Stripes Sky Hawks discovered last spring.” Cheung said, glancing briefly at Erin, Erik, and the other Blue Stripes. “A short while ago, we began test firing the engines at minimum power. According to our analysis, we should be able to control what appears to be the main engine.
“True, exactly how the engines work we haven’t been able to determine yet–” he conceded, “there is only a limited access room adjacent to the engines, but–according to the energy output, taking her up shouldn’t be a problem, and Hollander thinks we’ll make a breakthrough on the interior systems soon. So, we’re scheduling a test flight a little over three months from now.”
“You can’t be serious!” Tipler interrupted.
“Deadly serious,” Zhdanov said. “And the UESF feels we shouldn’t wait too long before bringing the test crews on board so that they can be familiarized with every function. They’ll have to re-learn how to fly, with a totally new, alien system. We have figured out enough of the control panels for essential on-board functions, but–these alien devices are nothing like anything we use on Earth. Actually, we’ll probably need to bring the crews in by the end of the week. The UESF wants to send the ship out as soon as possible. Arnaud feels that the infiltration team might trigger a counter assault against the Earth.” Zhdanov finished.
“But this is–far too dangerous!” Tipler protested once more.
“Yes, it is,” Zhdanov agreed, to Tipler’s surprise. Tipler found himself speechless. “It is indeed ‘a calculated risk’, as President Saunders-Hastings called it, before he gave us permission to proceed with our project. But what will happen to us if the Charon aliens manage to take it from us may prove even more dangerous. We cannot risk endangering our entire planet with inaction. Some of us must overcome our fears to do what must be done.”
Throughout Zhdanov’s argument, Cheung had been reflecting upon lieutenant Mathieson-Blair’s unexpected outburst as another stroke of good luck, since it was apparent she had not been bought by either side prior to the meeting. Her views were based on personal experiences and appeared to have done a lot to influence the wavering opinions in their favor. Of course, the UESF council had been overridden in this matter by the United Earth Government, but their cooperation would be necessary in implementing it properly. While Hilbert and Portocarrero had known about the project for months, this was the first time the other councilors had been informed.
“So what are you calling this marvel of yours?” Tipler riveted his gaze on Knightwood, venom in his eyes though his face cracked a sly smile.
“It will be named in honor of the first manned Earth ship to circumnavigate the solar system,” Knightwood answered. Her subtle history test had Tipler feigning interest in those around him; he hated to admit that he had no idea what ship they were referring to. Knightwood chuckled to herself but pretended not to notice his sudden reticence. Knightwood’s old friend, the stoic-faced Elena Fabrichnova and the only representative whom Knightwood secretly trusted surely knew the answer–they had been in the same space history class
at the Ural Scientific Base. When she didn’t answer, Knightwood suspected Elena did not want to spoil her triumph.
“Wasn’t that also the first manned ship sent to Neptune?” Major Dimitriev spoke up for the first time. Beside him, Kansier was regarding the UESRC scientific team with a half-smile of approbation.
“Very good, Dimitriev.” Kansier said. “Yes, when the ship was created for a manned flight to Neptune it was named the Discovery.
“Anyway, by the time the ship returned, it was still in perfect working order, but the Earth was suffering through The Crisis Years, our second “Dark Ages” as it were, between 2160 and 2612, AD. So the Discovery had outlasted the civilization that created it.” Kansier steepled his hands thoughtfully.
“The descendants of the crew were still living in and around the grounded ship where it had landed in the desert when The Crisis Years came to a close, around 2600 AD,” he went on. “From their records, we learned a lot about the way the Earth used to be. I remember seeing the remnants of the Discovery in the university’s Astronautical Museum when I lived in Greenwich. She was a fine ship, and worthy of respect. I remember thinking, if she could only describe to us all that she had seen, the wonders of space, the changes on Earth during the environmental nightmare...”
“Yes, and may her namesake enjoy as much success,” Hilbert finished, anxious to wrap up the meeting and content to leave matters in Knightwood’s hands.
* * * * *
Twenty minutes had passed since the end of the Council meeting by the time Scott Dimitriev reached his old quarters on board the Stargazer. All of the flight and bridge crews had departed hours before, leaving dark and empty corridors that echoed every footstep. As the Co-Captain, he had been too busy preparing for the Earth landing to pack up his belongings, or so he wished to believe. The truth was that he had been too preoccupied with thinking to get it done. And though he believed there was no immediate danger, Scott found it difficult to sleep in Central City. The Stargazer offered security, away from the re-built civilian towers just like the ones under which his family had been buried the day the aliens attacked.
The Stargazer was a different life–a much simpler one. Returning to Earth meant dealing with his past and facing the new mission, by far the riskiest of all. Even if it succeeded, nothing would ever be the same again. Things had already changed in the brief time since the Stargazer had landed. She would remain grounded this time, abandoned while attention was focused upon outfitting the alien spaceship. According to Knightwood, the old crews would all be re-assigned to the alien ship Discovery, and perhaps even Kansier and he would be given a new post there, though new orders would not be sent out for three more days. Until then they all had leave to visit their homes and loved ones.
So, Scott had returned to the Stargazer.
He thought how dissatisfying it was that he, like so many other people, grew most attached to something only when he knew he was leaving it behind. He was going to miss the Stargazer, he thought, with an unexpected pang of loyalty towards the smaller, Earth vessel; unexpectedly he felt a spark of admiration for it.
Entering his familiar room, he reached for the manual light switch now that the automatic power had been switched off. How unnatural it seemed that everything here remained untouched when all of the events in his life spiraled beyond his control, when today so much had been altered. Yesterday he had never dreamed flying the alien ship was possible, and he remembered how his former self had gazed about this room unaware of what the future might bring. It seemed different eyes were surveying it now.
But he was tired and dismissed such cryptic thoughts. He combed his fingers through his short hair as if it would clear his mind. He would have to be up early to meet with Kansier and the UESRC scientists to discuss the council meeting and further developments. Unfortunately, remembering the meeting reminded him of Erin.
He had been struggling to put her out of his mind for at least the last three months, but the endeavor was futile and only half-hearted. How many times he had wished he might take back those cruel words he had attacked her with just before the mission. As Co-Captain he had seen her every day since then, had been obliged to speak to her as though no illicit words had ever passed between them, as though he didn’t know how she had once felt about him. He doubted she ever would ever be able to love him again after what he had said. Yet if by some miracle she did, he wouldn’t feel he deserved it.
It didn’t help that she was so damned understanding! Despite his cruelty to her, Erin had never been anything but perfectly civil in the past three months; he often wondered how he would have managed in her position, having to face the one who had rejected him day by day. What bothered him most, though he perfectly understood the reason for it, was that she had thereafter seemed unaffected by his presence or anything he said. At least, there was no longer any affection in her eyes, or in her voice.
He had learned so much about her in the past six months. Excellence and achievement were important to her, yet she did all without expectation of reward or praise and frequently with anonymity. She offered her opinion when asked and kept silent when it was not wanted. She kept fiercely to her beliefs, once formed. Still she did not judge. She did not attempt to change others. Hers was a forgiving heart, though it had to be keenly aware of the wrongs it had endured. He had decided that her heart chose to forgive. Could it one day forgive him? He often wondered. He hoped so; he saw that she would not let revenge poison her, nor regrets for things she could not have prevented.
He had to admit that he regarded her as a kindred creature.
He could not help but respect her.
He felt ashamed to have hurt her so much.
But it was better this way, better to avoid causing pain to everyone involved. He was engaged to Catherine. He told himself he hardly knew Erin, and Erik loved her. As long as she loved him, Erin had been a danger to Scott’s peace of mind. And there was Catherine, his fiancée, whom he had not seen in more than eight months.
That was why he had been so cruel. He had felt obliged to make Erin see that she could never be anything to him.
Conspiring together, his conscience and his real feelings had not stopped torturing him since.
* * * * *
Dr. Zhdanov’s office at the UESRC was littered with electronic notebooks displaying files and 3-d holographic insignias when Cheung entered. The man himself was seated at his desk busily sorting them, calling out to the computer to verify his records and update each candidate’s present location.
Dr. Sergei Andreyevich Zhdanov was a tall man with a natural born grace and a purposeful stride, short, curling brown hair the color of dry autumn leaves, and deep-set, pensive, dark brown eyes. His features were Slavic, and modestly handsome: the slightly flat nose with an uptilt, wide-set cheekbones, the heart-shaped face with jaws that came to an abrupt point and small, lobeless ears that lay relatively flat against his skull. His expression was intelligent, composed, competent, but somewhat unapproachable but for moments when he smiled. On the whole, Zhdanov was considered a fair-minded, good sort of man.
“Selecting squadrons I see?” Cheung forced a laugh.
Zhdanov looked up in surprise as though he had not heard the other man enter.
“Dr. Cheung,” he said, pushing back his chair, and rose to his feet. The two had become quite good friends over the years and were on a first name basis, but addressed each other formally when speaking in an official capacity. “Please, come in and take a seat.” Cheung nodded, and Zhdanov waited politely until Cheung was sitting down before continuing. “How about you, have you and Dr. Santiago made your selections?”
“Just finished.” Cheung nodded. “I spoke with Santiago this morning and we’ve got last year’s Cirii squadron in from Saturn and this year’s Brun team. Also, Dr. Leonhardt will be arriving from the Rhein Physics Academy this afternoon in the East Astroport. He’s going to examine the gyroscope and gyrostabilizers with Kansier today.” “Yes, yes,” Zhdanov agreed,
remembering. There was a strange tension between them today, as though both forced themselves to go through the motions, as though both were evading bringing their true fears out into the open.
“Oh, and Dr. Hanashiro from the Okinawa Physics Academy is on her way back.” Cheung continued. “She presented her report yesterday and is bringing the Yokohama Base’s top two squadrons with her. She says the teams are confused about what’s going on, though.”
“Knightwood suggested using this year’s Blue Stripes Sky Hawks Squadron,” Zhdanov shook his head. “But they suffered 40% casualties out at Charon.” He said it evenly, impartially, but Zhdanov remembered every one of those 40%.
“How about augmenting them with the rest of Arnaud’s infiltration unit?” Cheung suggested. “Pull them out of their previous squadrons.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what we were going to do.” Zhdanov shrugged. “They’ve already taken great risks, more than we had a right to ask for.”
“So, give them a choice,” Cheung suggested, in a fair-minded manner.
“But we need to keep our plan a secret–if any of them refuse to go–”
“Well then, we’ll assign them duty here for a while, until the word is out.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea.” Zhdanov agreed, brightening.
“So,” Cheung said, slapping his hands together, “have you heard when Knightwood is coming in from Central City?”
“She’ll be here tomorrow.” Zhdanov said, nodding. “She’s meeting Kansier and Dr. Demarque tomorrow evening. In fact, the entire crew of the Stargazer will depart with her early tomorrow morning. The new squadrons will be arriving as well.”
“‘New squadrons’?” Cheung echoed, intrigued.