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"I a.s.sume you've considered my proposal," Alex said, tossing the manual onto a shelf-it began floating away, and he hastily s.n.a.t.c.hed it out of the air and hooked it on the wall again before the Director noticed.
Sanderson ran his fingers through his mussed hair before answering: "Yes. We've discussed this at length."
"Then you see why you have no choice, why you can't talk me down?"
"Yeah," the Director sighed. "But I still can't allow you to go on with this."
"Why?" Alex demanded. "You know I'll suicide!" he threatened.
"Yes, we are all aware of that"
"Then what's the problem?"
"I have superiors-there are the authorities-a dozen reasons: like you're unqualified, underage, and possibly insane-oh, Alex, why don't you just come down from there? n.o.body here in their right mind will let you go through with this!"
"NO!" shouted Alex. "If you don't have the authority to approve this, then get someone who does! Get the d.a.m.ned President and Prime Minister if you have to!" he demanded.
Michael looked at Alex with a sympathetic look that Alex did not want.
Grasping for straws, Alex added: "Don't you realize that at the very least I am saving the pilot's life by taking his place?"
"Alex, that pilot is fully aware of the risks he is taking and fully cognizant of all of the factors involved."
"So am I!"
"No, you're not!" the Director yelled in frustration. A hand on his shoulder stopped him from saying anything more. Somebody whispered in his ear and he turned back to Alex with a haggard sigh.
"Director William Tuttle is coming up to Ops; he wants talk to you as soon as he gets here."
Michael leaned closer, as if everyone in the center could not already hear every word that had pa.s.sed between the two. "Alex, I'm sure you won't get in very much trouble if you just come down right now. You'll save all of us so much ha.s.sle."
"No. If it's all the same to you, Mr. Sanderson, I think I will wait and talk with the Director."
"Fine," answered Michael, and in frustration he turned off the monitor.
Alex had time recheck the flight stats, as well as go back into the cargo bay to make sure he had enough food and water, and also had time to finish off the manual before he got a call from the Director of NASA.
While he was reading that manual, he looked over at the pull-ring in the wall many times-it was the final test in this mission, the final test that would bring Alex to the apex of his life-but first he would have to win past the Director of NASA.
He turned on the monitor when it blinked to notify him of an incoming link.
"h.e.l.lo, Alex," said an older man. He was sitting next to Michael with another headset on and smiling disarmingly at Alex.
Alex immediately grew wary. "h.e.l.lo, Sir," he answered, a bright smile on his face.
"Oh, you just call me Bill, son," the Director offered in a sprawling Georgian accent. "Now, you've got an awful bunch a folks here up in arms 'bout you, uh, appropriating that vehicle. Now, why don't you just bring it back down here and give these nice folks a break?"
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Bill," Alex replied in a condescending tone to match the Director's. Tuttle kept his unwavering smile as Michael started whispering in his ear. The microphones couldn't pick up what was said, but Alex knew just the same-they were talking about him.
When Sanderson finished his monologue, the Director focused his smiling attention back on Alex.
"Hmmn! It seems here that we have what my folks back home would call a dilemma! But I'm gonna make an administrative decision here and, considering your case and the situation at hand, I'm gonna instruct Mission Control here to go on with the operation as if you were the regular pilot. However," he added in an aside to Michael, also meant for Alex's ears, "since n.o.body but ourselves in this here room knows what's just transpired, we're gonna keep it hush-hush. No one is to know 'bout our li'l switcheroo."
"What?" Alex demanded, nearly jumping from his seat. His head fogged a little as he saw his name being wiped from all future textbooks. No one would know him, no one would know what he had done-and that was half the reason why he had undertaken this project of his in the first place! But now it would be all for naught!
"Oh, sorry, son," the Director said quickly. "But we are just like a little mouse forced into a corner by a cat. We have to let you do this, else we stand to lose an awful bunch of the taxpayer's money. But if the public ever got wind that we let a fourteen-year-old on such a mission, why we'd never hear the end of it."
"But-" Alex began, eyes wide, br.i.m.m.i.n.g with tears.
The Director raised a hand to quell the protest. "However, we have to come up with some name to satisfy the history books-especially since our other pilot will be about and alive. I'm sure the Director here can quickly make up a pilot file under the name 'Alex Manez'. And I'm sure that Michael's people at the Government in Ottawa will be more than obliged to change your birth date officially to make it seem as if you were old enough to go on this here mission. I'm sure I can get NASA and the Pentagon to come 'round. Now, will that satisfy you, son?"
Alex sank back into the pilot's chair in relief. The main reason he was doing this was for his parents' benefit. They had lost their lives for Kinemet. If Alex could make use of the new element, make it a success, then his parents' deaths would have meaning to him. But that hadn't been the only driving force behind his decision, that hadn't been what had forced him across the final length of the Lunar tarmac and into The Quanta The Quanta.
The past few years he had been nothing but a freaky little kid who limped like an old man-a spectacle, a sideshow attraction to be goggled at for a few minutes, then discarded. No one paid attention to him. He wanted the world to know his name as a person, to know it was he, a person, who had changed the course of history. If he was just pa.s.sed over again with no one to remember him, he might as well have just pointed the ship at the sun!
But even if posterity remembered him as a slightly different, slightly older Alex Manez, then all was well. He would be known, and his parents' deaths would have meaning.
"Yes, Sir," Alex answered finally, "that's all right by me." Alex knew the Director did not give a d.a.m.n about him, and only acted with the propensity of an administrator trying to meet an end. That suited Alex just fine.
The Director smiled even wider. "Alright, then." He turned to Michael in an aside that Alex could hear. "I trust you can take matters from here?"
"Yes, sir," came the muted reply. The Director removed the head set and, with a nod and smile to Alex, moved out of the way of the technicians and controllers to let them get on with the experiment.
Because of the nature of the new element, the Kinemetic reaction would disable all electronic systems on the ship. As with Macklin's Rock, there had been no energy left to even power the security receptacles. This phenomenon had been studied at length, and, the techs thought, solved.
Alex stared at the pull-ring placed a few inches below the manual.
The techs had surmised that a kick-start could return power to all systems. Once he reached his destination, the pilot would have about ten seconds to grab that ring and pull it...
Or so they thought.
Alex knew better. The kick-start would not be enough to overcome the Kinemetic influence. The pilot would die out in s.p.a.ce from lack of oxygen, or lack of heat, whichever got to him first. Although he would be exposed to the Kinemetic power, and become clairvoyant and electropathic as Alex was, the pilot would not have enough time to orient himself, and develop that ability. It had taken Alex a few days to be able to grasp the power and wield it effectively.
Only someone with the electropathic ability could restart the power generator. Someone like Alex. He would explain this to Mission Control later, when he had proved his theory.
He got a signal from ground control: they were beginning the secondary countdown.
10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...
Alex took a deep breath and closed his eyes as they reached the number 1...
...and then he was struggling for reality.
His vision doubled, faded, tripled, doubled, refocused; his hearing echoed, muted, expanded; his sense of touch was beyond description.
Time was nothing.
Four hours to Pluto?
It was merely four instants for Alex.
USA, Inc. Exploration Site : Mission Orcus 3 Orcus 3 : : Pluto :
Justine stood on the edge of the solar system with bated breath. For the first time in four years, of the solar system with bated breath. For the first time in four years, Dis Pater Dis Pater was reacting once again. was reacting once again.
With the exception of Sakami Chin, who had been recalled to the People's Republic of China after his capture and subsequent rescue from Luna, the entire crew of the Orcus 1 Orcus 1 had returned for the had returned for the Orcus 3 Orcus 3 mission to witness the first planned FTL flight from Luna to Pluto. mission to witness the first planned FTL flight from Luna to Pluto.
Helen, George, Henriette, Ekwan, Dale and Johan were joined by Allan Yost, a South African whose credentials surpa.s.sed their previous planetologist's qualifications.
The eight of them were dressed in their suitshields and standing in a protective outbuilding they had erected as close to Dis Pater Dis Pater as Justine would allow. Once again, as with the first time, Ekwan called out the changes. as Justine would allow. Once again, as with the first time, Ekwan called out the changes.
"Surface temperature rising. The monument is changing color as well."
It was as if they had gone back in time and were replaying the events of five years previous again, reciting lines in a play.
Nevertheless, it was just as exciting as the first time, and Justine could barely contain herself.
Ekwan's voice rose with excitement. "It should be here in less than thirty seconds."
Helen looked up. "Captain?"
Justine had wandered near the door of the outbuilding. She laid her hand on the latch release.
"I'm just going to get a look from out there," she replied.
George Eastmain c.o.c.ked his head. "You'll actually get a better view of The Quanta The Quanta from the monitors here." from the monitors here."
"It's okay. I want to see if I can spot it myself. Besides, you don't need me until it's time to send in the reports." She smiled.
Dismissing her from his attention, George focused his eyes on the monitors.
Justine cycled the lock and stepped out onto the icy surface of the dark planet.
It was just her and Dis Pater Dis Pater who would truly witness the culmination of the last decade of her life's work, as far as she was concerned. Everything she had done, everything she had sacrificed was for this moment, and she was not about to watch it second-hand from a monitor. who would truly witness the culmination of the last decade of her life's work, as far as she was concerned. Everything she had done, everything she had sacrificed was for this moment, and she was not about to watch it second-hand from a monitor.
In her earmask, she heard Ekwan's voice over the static. "Ten seconds."
Despite herself, Justine felt b.u.t.terflies in her stomach. She was as nervous as the night of her high school prom.
She looked up into the night sky in the direction she estimated The Quanta The Quanta would arrive. Of course, she wouldn't be able to see the vessel itself; it would be too far away to spot with the naked eye. However, Justine hoped she would see some kind of trail, a distortion of light and s.p.a.ce that would mark the ship's progress. would arrive. Of course, she wouldn't be able to see the vessel itself; it would be too far away to spot with the naked eye. However, Justine hoped she would see some kind of trail, a distortion of light and s.p.a.ce that would mark the ship's progress.
Beside her, Dis Pater Dis Pater, the monument that represented almost exactly the atomic model of Kinemet, had turned its final color.
Justine scanned the skies.
"Three," called out Ekwan.
Almost, Justine thought she saw a smear in the firmament of the heavens.
"Two."
There was a faint streak of multicolored light that appeared in the distance, as if some giant invisible artist had painted a swath through the dark blanket of outer s.p.a.ce.
"One!" Ekwan called out.
The heavens exploded.
Justine screamed and collapsed on the ice.
"Are you all right?"
Justine regained consciousness slowly. "What happened?" she asked. As she stood, she quickly steadied herself. A preternatural calmness settled over her.
Dale Power's voice filled her earmask. "It didn't stop. It kept on going. The Quanta The Quanta is, by now, racing for the Oort cloud at faster than light speed." is, by now, racing for the Oort cloud at faster than light speed."
Helen, concern visible in the expression on her face, spoke next. "You screamed and fell down. When we got to you, you were out like a light. What happened to you?"
Justine reached for the clasp on her helmet and undid it. She slowly pulled it off her head.
"I was looking right at it when it pa.s.sed," she told them, her voice quiet and even.
Helen, who stood right in front of Justine, c.o.c.ked her head. "Captain, what's wrong with you. You seem to be looking past me?"
"Sorry, Helen. But you know how they tell you not to look directly at an eclipse?"
"Yeah."
"I looked directly at The Quanta The Quanta as it pa.s.sed. I should have stayed and watched it from the monitor like Dale suggested. as it pa.s.sed. I should have stayed and watched it from the monitor like Dale suggested.
"Helen," she explained to her second-in-command, "I'm afraid I can't look at you because I'm blind."
The Quanta : : Pluto :