Best Intentions
Chapter 7

Chapter 7

With the deployment of the materials for the power producing satellite completed, CJ’s machines finished up the assembly. The ocean cleanup had begun and with things proceeding so well, Mark turned his attention to the U.S. space program, which was still getting back on its feet so to speak. He watched with interest as the space shuttle Atlantis launched on a mission to try and restore the International Space Station to operational status. The astronauts would also be retrieving the bodies of the crewmembers that had been killed. All in all it was an ambitious mission. Ground control had only been able to make sporadic contact with a few of the station’s systems since the gamma event had destroyed or crippled so much of the world’s space based assets.

“Astronauts are some of the people I’ve always respected the most, CJ,” Mark said. “They don’t have the advantage of advanced technology. Look at that, they risk their lives riding what amounts to a giant bomb into the sky, all to help us learn more about the universe.”

“They do represent some of the best qualities of the human race.”

“Yes, they do CJ. With the amount of schooling it takes to become an astronaut, they have to be dedicated. They could all make much more money in the private sector working in complete safety.”

“Most anything that is worthwhile is difficult. Many humans appear to try and take the easier routes. You may feel that you have taken an easy route yourself, Mark. But by staying aboard and becoming my commander you have decided to try and help the entire world. You could become a rich and powerful man, which is a temptation that I believe many humans would find hard to resist.”

“You have developed a good insight into human beings in a short amount of time, CJ. But I don’t think I’m anything special. Besides, you’re doing most of the work. I’m just along for the ride.”

“Affirmative, Commander Mark.”

“That’s funny, CJ. I think you’re starting to develop a sense of humor!”

Mark turned once again to the screen showing Atlantis riding twin pillars of fire up into orbit.

“Please watch over the shuttle flight, CJ. They say on the news that this is a dangerous mission because of all the dead satellites and other space debris in Earth’s orbit. I’d prefer that nothing bad happens to those astronauts.”

“I will monitor the shuttle mission closely, Mark.”

Mark wasn’t the only one concerned about the mission. Controllers at NASA kept in constant contact with the crew of the Atlantis as they prepared for the first spacewalk. This one would tell if they would be able to dock the shuttle to the station, or would have to enter through the small personal airlocks. Once aboard the men would determine if the station could be fully repaired.

NASA had also requested special round the clock monitoring from the U.S. Air Force’s Joint Space Operations Center in California. They had the responsibility of keeping track of all the man-made debris in Earth’s orbit.

This included everything from the shells of forty-five year old Apollo booster rockets to nuts and bolts lost during the construction of the International Space Station itself.

The task had become much more difficult since the disabling of close to two thousand satellites due to the radiation event of five years earlier.

Everything went well for the first spacewalk. The astronauts had determined the docking clamps could be operated manually which would make their access to the station and equipment transfers much easier and safer.

A pair of astronauts exited on the second excursion to operate the clamps while Atlantis moved into docking position nearly ten hours after arrival.

Expectations were high that this spacewalk and subsequent docking maneuver would go just as well.

Sergeant Jones was stuck on the midnight watch again. He saw nothing on the screen that could threaten the shuttle and decided to get a cup of coffee from the machine just outside in the corridor.

“It’s been a boring watch, what could happen?” he thought. “I’ll just be gone for a minute or two and if I don’t get some caffeine soon, I’ll be asleep anyway.”

High above the station’s orbit, a tiny piece of steel, far smaller than even the center’s sensitive radar arrays could detect, pinged off a dead satellite. That insignificant hit initiated a deadly chain of events. One of the satellite’s maneuvering engines was activated and drove the satellite into a still higher orbit.

The much larger military satellite that occupied that particular orbit was traveling thousands of kilometers per hour faster. One quick burst from the thrusters would have been enough to prevent a disaster - had the Sergeant been at his post.

Sergeant Jones got back to his monitors just in time to observe the collision spread a field of debris like a starburst. Part of the wreckage, traveling at over thirty-four thousand kilometers per hour entered the same orbit that both the space station and the shuttle occupied. They, however, were only moving at twenty-seven thousand kilometers per hour.

“Oh no,” Sergeant Jones thought. He knew that the shuttle astronauts were in extreme danger and it was his fault. He immediately got on the line to NASA as the deadly material closed in on the shuttle at seven thousand kilometers per hour.

“This is Sergeant Jones, an officer of the watch at Joint Space Operations Center tracking. We have a situation. Tracking systems have just monitored a collision between satellites. Material has been ejected into an orbit that threatens the shuttle crew. The debris field is closing in on the shuttle at seven zero zero zero KPH and will overtake them in one-five minutes, I repeat, one-five minutes. You must adjust the shuttle’s orbit to minus five zero kilometers immediately, move that bird or lose it!”

“Two of the shuttle astronauts are EVA, sergeant; it will take time to retrieve them.”

“Didn’t you understand what I said? Get them moving man. It’s gonna be a shooting gallery in under fifteen minutes. There isn’t a thing we can do about it!” He hung up the phone knowing that he would catch hell whatever the outcome. He dialed his commanding officer.

****

Back at NASA, they were in frantic radio contact with Atlantis. “STS-98, this is mission control. Get the men back on board NOW! A debris cloud is headed at you. Closing at seven thousand KPH relative and you’ve got to move now! You have less then ten minutes to lose fifty kilometers of altitude.”

“Frank, Tom, get back to the cargo bay now,” said Major Hutchins. “We have big trouble coming our way.”

The men were forty meters away watching from safety as the shuttle closed for contact with the docking port.

“Davis, what’s the problem? Atlantis is clean. A few meters more and you’ll make contact with the docking port.”

“Just get back, Frank. We’ve got to leave now. Burn the MMUs and get back into the damn ship NOW!”

“Ok Davis you don’t have to yell. We will be inside in five minutes.”

“Make it three, we are out of time.”

“Let’s go, Tom.” Pushing away from the module, they activated the mobile maneuvering units and headed back to the shuttle.”

They reentered the shuttle cargo bay and remove the bulky units so they could get back inside the crew compartment.

“Ok, Davis. We’re home. Let’s go!”

Before they could even stow the units, the shuttle fired its main engines and pulled away from the station. The major didn’t even waste time closing the cargo bay doors. The ship’s motion threw both men across to bang into the far side of the bay.

It was a futile gesture however. Even the shuttle’s maximum thrust was not enough to get them clear in time.

Chunks of metal and ceramic debris started whizzing by minutes later. Miraculously the material missed the shuttle, but mercilessly pummeled the station, shredding the solar collectors and punching holes in many of the modules.

“God, that was close!” exclaimed Major Hutchins just before a football-sized fragment struck and shattered the shuttle’s port wing.

Inside the shuttle, the impact was felt more than heard, transmitted through the shuttle’s structure. The craft started tumbling on the diagonal from the impact. The electrical system flickered and died leaving those inside in darkness until the tumble brought sunlight flashing into the cockpit like a strobe light.

Major Hutchins and his copilot Captain Brandy Finn fought a losing battle trying to restore power and bring the shuttle back under control. Specialist Tom Holdridge, thrown out of the cargo bay missed grabbing onto the edge of the doors by millimeters.

“Tom, hold on, I’m coming to get you,” said Commander Johnson as he fought the centripetal force to get his MMU hooked to the suit.

“Don’t try it, Frank. Even if you can reach me, you won’t have enough propellant left to get back. Oh Jesus, Frank. I can see the Atlantis. The port wing is completely gone!”

“Don’t worry about it now, Tom. I’ll be right there.”

He timed his exit, jetting out of the spinning bay towing one of the unused maneuvering packs along with him. The shuttle’s tail barely missed swatting him like a fly as the crippled ship spun.

****

“Mark, the space shuttle Atlantis has been damaged by orbital debris.”

“How bad is it, CJ? Can you tell if the astronauts are ok?”

“One of the shuttle’s wings has been destroyed. Hull integrity has not been breached. However, the decaying orbit will impinge on the atmosphere within ten minutes.”

“We can’t let them die, CJ. You’ve got to do something!” Mark realized that it would take twenty minutes to reach them from the Moon. “Can you do anything?”

“One of the modules from the Pacific Ocean cleanup can arrive quickest. At maximum acceleration, it will reach them within four minutes.”

“Are they all still alive?”

“Affirmative, all four life signs are strong and regular. However, two of the astronauts are outside the shuttle.”

Out in the remote Pacific, a thunderous roar sounded as the gigantic shape of one of CJ’s modules tore out of the ocean at high speed, vacuum effects pulling a column of water nearly two kilometers into the air behind it. The sonic boom it produced could be heard as far away as Hawaii. Velocity was limited by the Earth’s thick atmosphere but as soon as it had cleared the densest part it put on speed and reached the shuttle’s location in moments.

Commander Johnson had just caught up with the errant Tom Holdridge when a shadow fell over them.

They both looked up and saw a vast metal shape looming. CJ’s module had arrived.

“Frank, do you see what I do? What the hell is it?”

“Yes, Tom, I do. I have no idea what it is, but I don’t think it’s local.”

“I sure hope that it’s friendly.”

Gentle pulses of gravitation gradually brought the damaged space shuttle to a relative halt as an opening appeared in one of the smaller square faces. The dark opening had a glowing orange border. Tom and Frank found themselves being moved by an unseen force back into the shuttle’s cargo bay.

The last thing they saw as the bay doors closed was that darkness as Atlantis was swallowed.

“I have them, Mark,” said CJ. “The astronauts have been returned to the cargo bay and Atlantis itself is aboard the module. Illumination has been extinguished so they will not be able to observe the interior.”

“Great work, CJ! Can you patch me into the shuttle’s communications system? I should tell them something I suppose.”

“Negative. The shuttle’s electrical power and communications systems are inactive. I will patch you into the suit radios instead. You have communications now, Mark.”

“Hello, can you hear me?”

Major Hutchins flinched, nearly cracking his skull on the console above him as he worked. As it was, he floated away and had to grab for a handhold and the flashlight. Pulling himself to the deck he spoke into his suit microphone.

“Hello, mission control, is that you?” He said looking out the cockpit window into the total blackness.

“No, sorry, you won’t be able to reach NASA for awhile. You guys are safe though.”

“Safe, what do you mean safe, we just got creamed by a hunk of junk if you didn’t notice. Listen, we had two men outside the ship, what happened to them, are they safe too?”

“Yes, the men are back in your cargo bay. They were put there before the ship was brought onboard.”

“Onboard what?” asked the major. “I can’t see anything. My name is Major Davis Hutchins. May I ask who you are?”

“My name isn’t important, Major Hutchins,” Mark said. “You and the crew are safe. That’s all you need to know. Please lower your ship’s landing gear if you can and enjoy the trip back to Earth.” Mark had CJ cut communications with the astronauts.

“Wow, CJ, you did a fantastic job there.” Mark said breathing a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Mark.”

Back on the crippled shuttle, Major Hutchins attempted to reestablish contact with the mysterious benefactor. “Hello, hello?”

Just then, Commander Johnson and specialist Holdridge entered the cockpit, still in EVA suits but without the helmets.

“Are you guys ok?” asked the major. “We can’t see anything out there. What about you? Did your radios pick up the voice saying we are going back to Earth?”

“Oh yeah, we heard it and we most definitely saw something, Davis,” said Frank. This thing, whatever it is, it’s big, I mean big. Atlantis, even the space station looked like toys next to it.”

“Well, if he told the truth, we are on our way back to Earth. Since we have no other options, let’s find out if we can lower the gear.”

“CJ, please take the shuttle and its crew back to NASA in Florida. Set the shuttle down at the end of the farthest runway. It’s night there now. With your cloak up, no one will see anything.”

“Mark, ionization from the modules’ high speed transit of the atmosphere affected the deflector fields electromagnetic dampening ability. It is possible that the module was visible to radar systems. The astronauts also saw the module when the shuttle was brought onboard.”

Mark thought about it for a minute stroking his chin between two fingers. Shaking his head he said, “Don’t worry about it CJ. Radar isn’t anything like your sensors, and all they could have seen would have been a blip on a screen. I have a feeling that the president will be slapping a gag order on the astronauts and everyone else involved so no one will be talking about what really happened.” He chuckled, “Too bad, it would have made for an interesting party story. I can’t wait to see what they do come up with as an explanation.”

CJ’s module deposited the damaged Atlantis on the runway at the Kennedy Space Center in Florida ten minutes later, one o’clock in the morning local time. The astronauts opened the hatch and slid down the escape ramp. Looking around, they saw nothing in the sky.

“How did we get down so fast? I didn’t even feel the ship moving, and where did the other ship go?” Major Hutchins asked. “We only took seconds to get outside and if it is as big as you said, it should still be visible.”

“Major, I don’t think anything is beyond who ever or what ever it was that rescued us. We should just be glad that someone was around to help us. We better get to the operations building and let them know that we’re back.”

“What do we tell them? I don’t think they will buy what happened.”

“Just the fact that we are back on the ground should be enough to convince them.” Pointing to the torn up stub of what remained of the port wing the major said, “Let them explain how we could land with that!”

They stood there a few minutes more staring up into the sky wondering just who it was they owed their lives too before the long walk to mission control.

Back at the Joint Space Operations Center, Sergeant Jones attempted to explain what had happened. He omitted the part about his leaving his post from the story.

“Sir, it all happened so fast! After the collision I kept monitoring the situation. Something big appeared on the scope. It swallowed up the shuttle and vanished off the screen. I just can’t explain it!”

After the colonel reviewed the recordings several times, he went back to his office and got on the phone to NASA.

Meanwhile Michael Grifin, the head of NASA was debriefing the shuttle astronauts.

“We’ve told you everything we know Michael,” said Major Hutchins. “Atlantis was disabled by a collision and then rescued and brought back here by an unknown ship. How many ways can I tell the same story?”

“Come on, Davis. Do you know how this sounds? There must be some other more plausible explanation? What kind of ship was it?”

“I never saw it myself. Commander Johnson and Specialist Holdridge are the only ones to get a look at it.”

“Well, Frank, Tom,” asked Director Grifin. “What exactly did this mystery ship look like, a flying saucer? Do we have to get the Air Force to dig up the old Project Bluebook files?”

“We only got a brief look at it Michael, but it was a gigantic three dimensional geometric shape, much larger than the station.”

“You mean larger than the shuttle. The International Space Station is the size of a football field.”

“I was just there and know exactly how big it is!” snapped Frank. He blew out a breath to settle himself down. “Sorry, I guess I’m still on edge. Having a ship punched full of holes will do that to you. No, Michael, I meant larger than the station. This thing was three times the length and dozens of times the height, but it was solid! The mass must be hundreds of times greater than the entire station.”

The phone rang making everyone jump. The director picked it up.

“Hello Mr. Grifin, this is Colonel Cambern at the Joint Space Operations Center. We lost radar contact with Atlantis, have you been able to reach them?”

“Colonel, the crew of the Atlantis is sitting right in front of me now. They have been telling me an impossible story about being rescued by a gigantic spacecraft. I’m not sure what to believe, but the fact that they are here and safe is what is important.”

“Please tell me what they say happened, I have seen telemetry showing the space shuttle being swallowed up by something enormous and vanishing off our scopes.”

“That Colonel Cambern, is pretty much what they have told me.”

There was dead silence on the other end of the line and for a moment Director Grifin thought they had been disconnected. “Thank you for the information, Mr. Grifin. I need to contact my superiors now, goodbye.”

I better call Washington about this, the colonel thought.

After being switched around and telling his story several times he was told to hold.

Finally after waiting an unconscionable amount of time he heard someone. “Yes, colonel,” said a grumpy sounding voice on the other end of the line, “I hope that you have a good reason for calling at this time of the morning.”

“Whom am I speaking to?” asked the colonel, frustrated by the situation. “I’ve been transferred all around Washington and then kept on hold.”

“This is the vice president, colonel. You can keep your annoyance to yourself.”

“I apologize, Mr. Vice President. This is Colonel Cambern at the Joint Space Operations Center in California.

“Yes, yes, I know who you are colonel, now what is this all about?”

The colonel went over what he had been told by Michael Grifin and about the telemetry he had seen.

By the time he was done, he had the vice president’s complete attention.

“Colonel Cambern, thank you for bringing this to my attention. I want you to send that recording to my attention by special courier and erase any other record of it. You and your men are not to speak of this. Ever.”

“I understand, Mr. Vice President.”

Vice President Foster hung up and had the operator place a call to Michael Grifin at NASA.

“Director Grifin, this is Vice President Foster. I was just on the phone with Colonel Cambern, I assume that you know the subject of the conversation?”

“Yes, Mr. Vice President. I know.”

“I’m going to be there in the morning and I will need to speak with the shuttle astronauts. They are not to speak with anyone else before me, is that clear?”

“Of course, Mr. Vice President.”

“Good, until tomorrow,” he said and hung up the phone.

“So, it’s starting,” thought the vice president with a frown on his face.

“Well guys,” said the director, “you have an appointment with the vice president tomorrow. Let’s try to get some rest, ok?”

“We’ll try, Michael.”

They got up and walked out of his office, heading down the hall to their individual quarters.

The director exited after them and called out, “Guys, glad to have you back!”

They came to attention, saluted, and continued on their way.

Director Grifin had the Atlantis moved to a secure hanger while it was still dark. Technicians went over the shuttle with a fine-tooth comb, but could find nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing, that is except that it was here, which was impossible. The shuttle simply could not land in this condition and with no power.

Vice President Foster arrived early the following morning and immediately went into conference with the shuttle astronauts and Director Grifin. He waited while they told the story, not even asking any questions after they had all given their statements. The astronauts and the director found that odd but kept their opinions to themselves.

Either he dismissed the whole thing out of hand and didn’t believe a word of it, or he had some insight into the event that they didn’t.

Director Grifin couldn’t decide which possibility bothered him more.

Vice President Foster was taken to see the shuttle, being kept under tight security in a locked and guarded hanger.

“Your men showed real skill in bringing the shuttle down with that much damage, Director.” The vice president said looking up at the destroyed wing.

“Mr. Vice President, there is no way that Atlantis could have landed with so much damage no matter how skilled the pilot, it is beyond the realm of possibility.”

Vice President Foster looked at the group. “Director Grifin, Major Hutchins, Captain Finn, Commander Johnson, Specialist Holdridge. I will say this only once. You men heroically brought your damaged ship in for an emergency unscheduled landing after encountering orbital debris and that is all you will say about it. Should any other story get out, or any pictures of this shuttle show up, the consequences will be severe. This incident is now a matter of National Security. Is that clear?”

They all looked at each other. When they hesitated, he repeated, “I said, is that clear!”

They all spoke as one. “Yes, Sir!”

Director Grifin dismissed the astronauts and was left alone with the vice president.

“Mr. Vice President, you may be able to keep this incident under wraps, but if what these men have told us is true we most likely haven’t heard the last from whatever is out there.”

“Let us worry about that director; you just keep this quiet on your end.”

Director Grifin’s words turned out to be prophetic as this event turned out to be only the first of many unexplained events around the world.

A wildfire raging in the San Gabriel Mountains in California:

“James, where the hell is that water? We’re losing it down here!” Tom Anderson yelled into his radio.

“The tanker has just taken off Tom, ETA ten minutes.”

“Make it quick, the fire is spreading fast, heading towards Palmdale.”

A tremendous torrent of water poured out of the empty sky, then another and another, smothering the main part of the fire.

“Holy Christ,” exclaimed Tom Anderson. “Where the heck did that water come from?”

“Tom, do you see that?” His aide said, pointing into the western sky where a couple of transparent shapes were moving. Their barely visible silhouettes looked like water on glass or a heat mirage.

“What, Dave?” he asked before seeing them himself. “What the hell are those?”

“Tom, ETA two minutes,” said James Walters, the tanker pilot. “I can’t see the fire, just smoke, where do you need this load?”

Looking around Tom said, “There’s no rush, James. The fire is basically out. You can drop your load where you see the smoke and head back to the airfield.”

“Tom, how the heck did your guys put the fire out?” James asked. “You were desperate for this water just a few minutes ago.”

“James,” Tom said looking off in the directions the mysterious objects had gone. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

McMurdo station on the Ross Ice Shelf in Antarctica:

“Reporting eighty percent cloud cover at 10,000 feet. Wind speed is two zero knots east northeast. No movement detected in cloud cover.”

“That’s impossible, Private,” said Major Rogers. “How could clouds keep still with a twenty knot wind blowing?”

“I don’t know sir, but look, there it is. The outside temperature is down another ten degrees as well.”

“Get Captain Aldeman up in his C-130 before it gets too cold. I want airspeed readings at altitude.”

Fifteen minutes later the Captain approached the cloud deck.

“Altitude angles ten,” reported the Captain. “Now entering cloud formation.”

“Give us your readings, Captain,” said Major Rogers. “I hate mysteries.”

“Rogers, wind speed four zero knots north-northeast and the temperature is minus twenty-five degrees. Zero visibility, I’m climbing through the deck.”

At 12,000 feet, he finally hit clear air.

“Altitude angles twelve. I’ve just broken out of the deck. Jesus! What the hell?”

“Captain, Captain what is it, what’s going on?”

“Sorry sir, the upper side of these clouds is very reflective. I’m getting a lot of glare, must be ice crystals or something. Wait a minute, there’s movement, new cloud formation, but it’s coming from - nothing!”

“What do you mean from nothing, Captain?”

“There is a streamer of clouds that is just appearing, moving in a straight line towards the horizon, going in for a closer look.”

“Be careful, Captain.”

“Yes sir, I’m approaching the area the cloud appears. Nothing is there at all.”

The planes proximity warning alarm sounded. Collision Alert, Collision Alert, Veer Off, Veer Off.

“Captain,” shouted Major Rogers. “What’s going on, you said you are alone.”

“I am alone, hang on.” Captain Aldeman banked hard to the right around the clear area. There was a loud bang and more alarms went off. “Mayday, mayday, my port wing has been damaged in a collision.”

“Captain Aldeman, can you make it back to base?”

“Yeah, I think so. I scraped the end of my wing off on something and fuel is leaking, but I’m otherwise ok. There’s nothing else I can do up here, returning to base.”

Upon landing, the major went out to examine the damage to the plane and speak to the pilot.

“What the hell happened up there, Captain?” He asked looking at the shredded wingtip. “Was another aircraft up there or not?”

“Nothing that I could see sir; but I hit it just the same.”

“Didn’t I tell you that I hate mysteries?”

The outskirts of Dallas, Texas:

Leaning out the door of his pickup Bob Calhoun shouted over the rising wind. “Joe, we’ve got to get out of here – Now!”

“God, Bob. Look at that,” yelled Joe Maccreary, pointing to the west at the huge funnel cloud, which swept over the freight depot.

“Lord Almighty,” he said, seeing what his friend saw. The small colored dots whirling through the sky were full sized tractor trailers and following the funnel down he saw a warehouse explode as the black monster struck.

He froze for a second staring, but the slam of the passenger door startled him out of his trance.

“Hey, wake up,” Joe said, “let’s get the hell out of here!”

Getting in, Bob mashed down the accelerator and sped away from the destructive specter looming above them.

Turning and looking out the back window Joe gasped, “It’s headed straight into Dallas. Jesus, what are they gonna do?”

“I don’t know. They better be getting people into basements or something. This is the worst tornado I’ve ever seen!”

They heard something like an explosion. They thought it might be thunder but without an accompanying flash of lightning.

“Joe grasped at his head trying to block out the sound and Bob swerved, nearly running off the road. Pulling the wheel back he skidded to a stop facing back the way they had come.

“What the hell was that!” he shouted but they both fell silent as they watched.

The funnel cloud twisted and writhed like something alive. The base seemed to be sucked up into the air along with most of the debris of the destroyed warehouse. Something like gigantic static discharges lit the clouds from within and they watched as the rotation slowed and then ceased altogether over maybe two or three minutes.

All the debris seemed to hang in the air for a moment then came crashing down.

“Bob, have you ever seen that happen?”

“I’ve seen ten, maybe twelve tornados in my time and never anything like that. Someone was sure looking out for us today.”

“Amen.”

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