Forbidden the Stars (28 page)

The launch countdown began, the numbers displaying on his DMR Casement.

*

10 – 9 – 8 – 7 – 6 – 5 – 4 – 3 – 2 – 1 …
Launch.

*

Alex tried to imagine the looks on the faces of those few hundred people at Mission Control, as well as those observing from the Lunar Station lounges as they watched the eighteen billion dollar Quanta being hijacked on its maiden voyage. Alex wasn’t mischievous by nature, but just to see the surprise on their faces…

The Quanta
, all thirty meters and twenty-nine point eight-two metric tons of it shuddered as the mundane jet-powered rockets started pushing the vehicle up and out of the launch port, giving off enough thrust to accelerate the ship above the 2.4 kilometers per second required to escape the moon’s gravitational influence.

The ship picked up speed at an alarming rate.

Below, he knew, people would be scurrying about in a panic. They would try to figure out how he had overridden their security redundancies and; how he had cracked the internal security codes.

They would puzzle how he had managed to interface with both
The Quanta
’s computer and the Lunar Station port computer without alerting the electronic alarm reticulums from Mission Control or from Luna Station itself.

Most of all, they would try to figure out how he had gotten onboard the craft, timing it just when the ship had been vacated for a mere five minutes while the ground crew offloaded, and the pilot had been preparing to come onboard.

Yes, the electropathic power had faded, but it was still there, to use as he wished. And little diminutive Alex had used that power.

The Quanta
required 737765 kilopascals of thrust, just to escape the moon’s gravity. Ordinarily, a ship of comparable size would need less than half that output. The extra thrust was needed because of the Kinemet store in the Kinemetic engine attachment, which increased the ship’s overall mass by nearly 175%.

All of the requisite information of the mission and operation of
The Quanta
was ingrained in Alex’s photographic mind—another side-effect from his exposure to the Kinemet on Macklin’s Rock; the exposure that had cost his parents their lives.

It was almost second nature, even though he had physically never performed the operations himself, to guide the ship out beyond the gravity well of the moon. He drifted out and away, and slowly decreased the engine thrust until he fell behind the moon’s trajectory around the Earth. Once he had attained an orbit around the Earth mimicking Luna’s, he increased thrust to match the moon’s 3,700 kilometers-per-hour velocity.

When the onboard computer confirmed a stable orbit, Alex cut the engines, took a deep breath and reveled in his accomplishment.

Even if it ended here, he would be satisfied. How many fourteen-year-olds had successfully flown a spacecraft by themselves, and achieved a stable orbit around the Earth?

But there was so much more to do.

Alex leaned back into his seat and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. Already the null-gravity was taking much of the pressure off his laboring lungs, and his bones seemed to be getting stronger every minute. He was in his environment; he could never leave the Kinemet for any extended amount of time; that was a fact of his life, now.

Glancing at the digital chronometer on the console, he noted that the entire procedure had taken less than six hours. To Alex, every second he was free of the Earth and the Moon was an eternity to be cherished forever. The familiar comfort of the Kinemetic influence so close to him was enough to make him cry with joy. He could already feel his bones knitting, his health restored to him. If he wanted to make it all count for something, he couldn’t quit now.

Running his fingers expertly over the keyboard, he brought up the current flight stats and requested a quick diagnostic scan of internal systems. Everything was up and functional.

For the next part of Alex’s plan, however, he had to contact Mission Control on Luna Station. Even though he had cracked into their computer and downloaded every byte of information stored within, the fact that so many countries had worked together on this project—countries that were by nature untrusting—had precluded the omission of many of the more sensitive mission objectives and data.

He needed those to continue with the mission; more specifically, the cooperation of the Director of NASA, William Tuttle, who had temporarily traveled to Earth’s moon for the occasion, along with many other top-shelf space executives from differing agencies. Michael Sanderson, Lassen Kruger, Vic Tong, Tung Jo, Henry Franks, to name a few.

It would be nearly impossible to persuade them, but there was no other option. Alex had to convince them of that.

Alex reached over to the console and flipped the AV switch. Indicator lights came to life, and abruptly, two-way communication was established with the Mission Control center on Lunar Station.

His DMR casement revealed a frantic Ops room. Dozens of administrative clerks, techies, comp operators and even a few Canadian, American, and Japanese soldiers were rushing around in a heated frenzy of activity.

It took a few moments for one of the technicians to notice that his monitor was active and showing the smiling face of a fourteen-year-old boy seated in the command chair of
The Quanta
.

The man hastily thrust his earmask on and started flipping switches and pressing buttons. He leaned in to his microphone.

“This is Lunar Station Mission Control for Operation
Quanta
chartered under the authority of the United Earth Corporate. I hereby order you to cease and desist all activity and prepare to be boarded by a tug which we will shortly be sending to rendezvous at your position. Young man, you are in deep shit!” His face was bunched up with rage.

Alex cocked his head, deciding not to take offense at the man’s inflammatory remark. “Please get someone with authority on the line,” he requested politely. “Preferably Director—”

A new face popped into view. Michael Sanderson, the Director of Quantum Resources, was aging by the minute. His shirt was bereft of a tie, and the top two buttons were undone. Sweat glistened off his face, and the look on his face was a mix of desperation and outrage. He was getting up there in years. The trip to the moon had cost him.

*

Michael looked shocked for an instant as he recognized Alex as the hijacker, rather than some industrial spy or foreign agent they had obviously all suspected. Since the Alex’s kidnapping four years before by Chow Yin, when the Chinese felon had pirated the
Orca 1,
relations between the People’s Republic of China and the rest of the world had been more than strained.

Michael quickly recovered his surprise, and donned an earmask as he struggled to find his voice. “Alex Manez. You remember me?”

“Yes, Director. Quite well, as a matter of fact. I have nothing but respect for you; I know you tried to do right by me. It is not your fault. I don’t blame you for my parents. I just wanted to let you know that. What I’m doing now is motivated by none of those things directly.

“—Well, if I had never come in contact with Kinemet in the first place, none of us would be in this position today.”

“So are you taking the ship hostage for some reason? I assume this is not just a joy ride.” The edge to his voice betrayed his conflicting emotions. It was as plain as the nose on his face that he was having a difficult time trying to come to grips with the fact that an adolescent had just stolen a multi-billion dollar space craft right out from under his watchful gaze.

“No,” Alex confirmed. “This is no joy ride, I assure you. It’s a matter of survival.”

“I see.” The Director put his hand over the microphone and started dispensing orders to the dozen people that had congregated around the DMR casement. Finally, he turned back to Alex.

“You seem to know a lot about computer security, space travel, and this mission in particular.”

“You’d be surprised what you can find on the Mesh.”

Cocking his head in a conciliatory gesture, Michael replied, “No, I wouldn’t be. But that still doesn’t explain how you obtained access to sensitive mission parameters. There are no hard copies, and the only electronic copy is stored on my portable.”

“Do you remember the big splash about my clairvoyant ability, sir?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I never revealed the extent. It has waned somewhat, but—”

“Somewhat?”

“I don’t have my full capability, but the ability still exists. It is difficult, but from a room away, I can easily peer over someone’s psychic shoulder and see what they are reading on their portables.”

“Oh.” Michael seemed to be trying to place exactly when and where Alex might have been in close-enough proximity to perform the task he had just described, but the fact of the matter was that on Lunar Station, the opportunities were cornucopia.

“I apologize for putting you all in this position, but there are facts that I have that you don’t.”

“All right, then why don’t you fly that spacecraft back here and land it. I will ensure a team of specialists, including myself, gives you ample opportunity to present your facts to us.”

“It’s not as simple as that, sir. You see, I’m dying. My bones cannot stand any more gravitational pressure. The very Earth that has borne me has rejected me. It is the Kinemet, sir. None of your test pilots has ever been exposed to it when it is active in space. Only three people have that dubious distinction, and two of them, my parents, are dead as a result.

“The Kinemet offers wonderful things to whoever accepts its embrace. Clairvoyance, electrokinesis, eidetic imagery with no retroactive inhibition; all the skills necessary for FTL flight. You’ve tried to compensate with redundant computer profiles and even put an untested pilot onboard to physically return power to the ship once the flight has terminated.

“I assure you, Director, all these precautions will end in disaster. You do not yet comprehend the power of Kinemet. Compared with simple atomics, Kinemet is like trying to describe color to a blind man. My eyes have been opened by Kinemet, and I can’t tell you what I’ve seen.

“I can guide others to the light of this power, but there is a cost, which I am paying every day and with every codeine pill I swallow. I am exiled forever from Earth, and from every planet that has any significant gravity well.

“You should know this already, but in your ignorance, you’ve overlooked the facts.”

“I’m sorry, Alex. If you would just come in, perhaps we could try to—”

“You still don’t get it, do you!” he shouted at the Director. Taking a moment to compose himself, and get his emotions under control, Alex breathed deeply. “I don’t blame you, sir. You can’t understand. You have nothing to relate this to. That’s why I have to take matters into my own hands.”

“What do you plan on doing, Alex?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” the young man replied.

Michael shook his head. “No. I’m sorry, but it isn’t.”

“I plan on fulfilling your mission. I know everything about it, even the classified aspects. I know that there is more involved here than what you have released to the public—I know where you are sending this space ship.

“Of course, both of us realize that
The Quanta
is perfectly capable of withstanding the FTL flight, capable of harnessing the small amount of Kinemetic energy it will release, that your precautions to safeguard the small payload will bear fruit, and that this mission has a better-than-99% chance of succeeding.”

Alex lowered his voice as he continued.

“However, I also know that under your mission parameters, the ship will never return to Earth, and neither will the pilot.”

He paused for effect, his face growing serious. “Your pilot has a family, Mr. Sanderson. I know, he does not have a wife or children, but he has a mother and a father, grandparents, a sister in Tacoma with a husband and three kids of her own; two nephews and a niece that will never see him again.

“I have nothing to lose, no family, no ties; and everything to gain—my life, my future, my own personal survival. Secondly, if this mission fails, you know as well as I that the political situation on Earth will preempt any subsequent missions by at least a decade, or perhaps forestall them forever if war breaks out. Everyone is trying to claim the discovery for themselves, vying for position out among the stars when they have not even left the comfort of their armchairs. If there is going to be FTL space travel, the piloting can only be undertaken by those like me. Those directly exposed to the radiation of Kinemet without the protection of an ion-nullified protection receptacle.

“So you see, I am your best option.”

“You can’t be serious!” blurted the Director. “You can’t understand the ramifications, the—”

“I understand completely, Mr. Sanderson. You should know that as well as anyone.

“—As I have told you, Kinemet offers wonderful advantages. But the cost is much higher than you can understand. Given a choice, I would take my parents back. But I’m up against the wall. I don’t have the resources to live in null-gravity for the rest of my life; and this mission will be a disaster without me—unless you wished to postpone until you can expose one of your test pilots to the effects of unshielded Kinemetic radiation. And that would permanently damn him, exile him from all Earthbound living.”

Michael averted his eyes from Alex’s balding head, his pigmentless face, and the atrophy his muscles showed. “No, we cannot postpone the flight.”

“It seems to me that it is in your best interest to cooperate with me on this.”

“What if we do decide to abort?”

Alex shook his head. “As I have said, without this, I have nothing. It would be better for me to point this ship at the sun, see how much of a tan I can get.

“However, if you let me undertake this mission in place of Capt. Kincardine, I will cooperate with you one-hundred percent, and you will get everything out of this experiment that you had hoped for. You may think I don’t know what I am doing, but let me assure you that I have read and memorized—and ‘understand’—every byte of information that I could find.”