Post Contact: First Days, page 10
‘Wow, look at that,’ said Jamie. ‘Just look at it!’
‘I know. Home. It’s lovely, but it looks so lonely too.’ Steph reached out a hand and Jamie took it, squeezed.
‘Looks it. But we know different; it’s not alone any more,’ he said.
The craft suddenly came to a halt, hanging motionless above a sunlit moonscape. Jamie pulled the craft back a little, and they both craned their necks to look down on the surface, only fifty feet below them.
The ground was neither completely level nor fully rough. It had the appearance of a roughly prepared building site. An abundance of small rocks nestled amid the dusty coated surface. A little further off were a variety of small craters, and to one side, the surface rose gently into a low hillock.
Steph reached out a hand and rested it on Jamie’s arm. ‘Let’s not go down after all,’ she said.
‘Really? Why not? We could give our uniforms a proper workout. Remember, we have half an hour or so of oxygen in them.’ Jamie looked at her, puzzled at her change of heart.
‘This is a special place. We shouldn’t go messing up history’s footsteps just for the hell of it. We mustn’t disturb it.’ Steph’s features had adopted a quite determined set.
Jamie looked out across the landing site. ‘It looks pretty messed up already. I don’t think Neil and Buzz were worrying about appearances.’
Steph stared intently down at the site. ‘Okay, I see waste, rubbish, and various things they’ve just abandoned. But that’s part of the site’s history. There’s the Lunar Descent Unit and look! There’s the flag, still flying!’ She turned to look Jamie in the eye. ‘It would be wrong to land here, disrespectful of their achievements.’
Jamie knew when an argument was lost. ‘Okay, but we’re here now. I still want to try my suit and do a moon walk; you should too.’
‘Fine. Take us a distance off from here, and we can have a go. But only a few minutes, just a test so you can say we’ve been on the moon.’
Jamie quickly manoeuvred the craft about a mile away from the lunar landing site. The landscape was not so different. He looked at Steph with excitement in his eyes. ‘Hoods up. Here goes!’
They both reached round to flick their hoods out from beneath their collars, pulling them over their heads exactly as they had practised scores of times on Planet Nine. The hoods sealed and firmed up into strong protective helmets. Each could hear the other’s voice within their helmets while Jamie edged the craft forward.
‘I’m going to hold it about a foot off the surface,’ he said, while simultaneously staring out of the viewscreen and stroking his sleeve. ‘There.’ He pulled his hand away as the craft stopped, adopting a hover mode above the surface.
‘Gloves!’ said Steph.
‘Right,’ he said, while tweaking at his suit cuffs from where neat little gloves unfurled. One glove at a time, he stretched them out over his hands. His fingers slipped into the allotted finger holes, and the material rebounded, encasing his hands, self-sealing against the cuffs. ‘Okay, ready now.’
They left the bridge, entering a white lit corridor that ran the length of the craft. Several doors let off to either side. They hurried beyond them to the rearmost door, opened it and stepped through into the airlock.
‘Ready?’ asked Jamie, turning to look at Steph. All he could see was her alien-like grey skin, domed head, and great black eyes.
The domed head nodded. ‘Uh-huh, I’m good.’ They gently bumped heads.
He stroked and tapped his arm, and they both felt their uniforms stiffen very slightly. A protective response to the air pressure falling away within the airlock. She reached out and took Jamie’s hand in hers.
‘Here we go then,’ said Jamie. The rear door opened, and they were looking directly out onto the moon.
They stepped through the open doorway and gently settled on the surface. It varied every few yards. First, it was fairly uneven, bumpy and strewn with small rocks, then a smooth stretch comprising small pebble-sized rocks surrounded by dust, then more uneven and bumpy surface. Both shuffled their feet, feeling the ground beneath them. Jamie could clearly hear Steph’s excited breathing. She let go his hand and jumped. Whooping with joy, she flew off, landing seven or eight feet away.
‘Come on, Jamie. Don’t lag behind,’ she said, before jumping off again. Jamie followed.
They had practised moving in the gravity controlled weightless environments of a Base Primo hangar, but after the initial thrill, it had always seemed a little sanitised. Later, they had ventured out onto the surface of Planet Nine, but that was usually dark, forbidding, and the planet’s mass meant the natural gravitational pull was less than half that of the Moon’s. To jump on planet Nine was to rise and keep rising for a long time – unsettling in the extreme.
Here, the moon’s pull, just one sixth of the Earth’s, offered the freedom to horse about, and the suits imposed no restrictions on their movements. The moon’s low gravity, though in practice no different to that which they had rehearsed in one of Base Primo’s great hangars, just somehow felt right, more natural.
Bouncing around for a little while, they revelled in the moment, allowing themselves the privilege of forgetting the stresses of recent events and what they knew was to come.
Finally, they had to go. Each picked up a little stone as a memento of their visit before bounding back to the airlock. Approaching the craft, Jamie wondered again at the construction materials used. Inside, they looked out through great panoramic viewscreens. From the outside looking in, there was a uniform metallic surface, quite opaque to any inspection.
They boarded, leaving behind their moment of light relief and bracing themselves for what lay ahead.
Chapter 23. A Return to Earth
Jamie had thought hard about where to land their craft. He knew that the responsibility inherent in their task was more than his own country Britain could or would want to take on alone. Logically, its scale dictated that American muscle would need to be involved. However, he couldn’t go straight to America. The recent quick-fire demonstration had shown he could not be sure of arriving safely nor of their reception once on the ground.
‘Where’s it to be?’ said Steph. She watched the craft streak into Earth’s atmosphere, coming down in the northern polar region and levelling off low above a sheet of sea ice. ‘I think a palm-fringed tropical island might fit the bill. What do you say?’ She eyed the ice below with little enthusiasm.
Jamie laughed. ‘Sorry, not this time I’m afraid. We’re heading for Condor.’
‘Where? I thought that was an Andean mountain bird.’
‘It’s RM Condor, a Royal Marine base in north-east Scotland, just outside Arbroath. Not so much sunshine there I’m afraid.’ His tone sounded almost apologetic for the lack of glamour in his chosen destination.
‘If we’re going to the UK, why not somewhere closer to London? Or Edinburgh even? Remember, I’ve a house there to check on,’ said Steph.
‘We can run in low, all the way from up here in the Arctic to the Scottish coast without crossing any land and, I’m hoping, avoiding radar detection. If we go direct to any centres of power, we’ll become a target.’ Jamie turned his attention to coaxing the craft as low as he dared.
Steph felt she could almost reach out and touch the ice. ‘No wonder Scotland can get so cold. I’d never thought about the weather like that.’
The ice soon gave way to seawater, and they continued south. ‘We’ll cross the coast north of Arbroath just around twilight, then it’s a straight line across farming country to the base. With a bit of luck, nobody will even see us until we arrive.’
‘What then?’
‘We’ll need to play it by ear. At least I have friends there.’
‘Friends?’
‘I’ve done a lot of work with the marines and especially 45 Marine Commando – they’re based at Arbroath. Hopefully, we won’t get shot out of hand.’
***
Peering through the link fence that separated RM Condor from the surrounding farmland, the two-man guard patrol was puzzled. What they had first taken to be the routine sight of a helicopter approaching in the twilight blur, and so, beyond the immediate responsibility of their perimeter foot patrol, had morphed into something quite different. Its shape was all wrong, and as it neared, there was no roaring engine. The craft was unknown and impossibly silent.
The patrol leader radioed in an alert to the guardhouse. Then, leaving his partner on the perimeter to maintain their guard duties, he hurried away through nature’s rough greenery, cultivated to provide a screen from any prying eyes beyond the base.
Moments later, he burst out from the wild shrubbery and onto regularly mowed lawns. Running, he unslung his weapon and called in a further radio alert to the guardroom. The unknown craft had come down, landing on one of the marked helicopter landing spots beside a row of hangars.
Kneeling and bringing his weapon to the ready, the corporal was pleased to see two or three other guards arriving from various directions. They formed only a flimsy force, but at least he was not alone now.
The sound of Land Rover engines reached him as the guardhouse squad responded in strength. Distant lights beamed, bobbed, and haloed while the vehicles hurried along the rutted road behind the hangars. The lights came to full beam when the vehicles turned at the end of the hangars and halted, their headlights shining on the craft.
***
‘Well, here we are,’ said Jamie. They both looked intently through the craft’s viewscreen at the marines gathering outside.
‘They don’t look so friendly. Do you know any of them?’ Steph’s voice carried a hint of concern. ‘That’s a lot of guns for a welcoming committee.’
‘No, I don’t recognise anyone, but I think we’d better get it over with. The tension’s only going to mount if we sit tight,’ said Jamie. He watched a lieutenant direct his sergeant and men out of sight behind the headlights. Some brief orders were spoken into the officer’s radio; Jamie guessed that was to ensure the various approaching patrol guards were spread right around the craft. The lieutenant stepped forward, stopping ten paces from the craft.
‘No need for the helmets, I think,’ said Jamie.
‘Agreed, that would just freak them all out completely.’
As a precaution, Jamie shut everything down and, finally, applied the gravity brake. Then they headed for the stern exit.
The hatch slid open, and Jamie led Steph out into the shining headlights. They stepped slowly down from the craft, and the hatch slid shut behind them.
The lieutenant’s barked orders filled the air and were immediately followed by the sound of weapons cocking beyond the lit headlight zone. Jamie and Steph both knelt, keeping their arms raised.
‘You still think this was the best place to land?’ said Steph through gritted teeth.
‘We’ll see,’ said Jamie. Then he called out to identify himself.
Events moved quickly thereafter. Their wrists were tied, and they were driven to the guardhouse. There they were taken directly into one of the lockup cells accessed from a door at the rear of the main guardroom.
‘So much for friends,’ said Steph.
‘There are hundreds of marines here. I can’t know them all. Give it time,’ said Jamie, pressing himself against the bars and straining to hear what was happening.
In the chaos of events, the door between guardroom and cells had been left open by one of the marines. Jamie was just about able to follow extended radio and telephone exchanges as the lieutenant reported up the chain and tried to answer questions from incredulous superiors.
During a lull in proceedings, they heard the guardhouse door bang open and chairs scrape when marines stood in response to the arriving visitor.
‘Carry on, men. Lieutenant, what have you got here? Get me up to speed.’ Browning’s voice reached them in the cells, and Jamie felt a weight lift off his shoulders.
‘It’s Baz,’ he said, turning to Steph. ‘Remember him? The marine captain you met at Reahlagh.’
Before Steph could respond, Browning was at the bars.
‘It is you! You old reprobate. Where the hell have you been?’ Browning’s voice betrayed pleasure and confusion in equal measure.
‘Here and there. You know how it is,’ said Jamie.
‘Here and there? Here and there! Is that what you call it? We’ve had marines and police and God knows who else scouring the islands for weeks looking for you. And here you are coming right into the base. You’ve caused one mighty stink, I can tell you. But it’s great to see you all the same.’ Browning turned to the lieutenant who had joined him. ‘Can you open the cell for me? And get me a tie cutter, we’ll get those off now, I think.’
The lieutenant waved forward a marine with the jail keys. He opened the cell, and Browning stepped in. Behind him, the door banged shut. A moment later, cutters were delivered and passed through the bars to Browning.
Once he’d freed their wrists, Browning guided the pair to sit on the raised plinth that represented a sleeping area and squatted in front of them.
‘Do we really need to be locked up?’ said Steph.
‘Sorry, orders from the base commander. That bus you’ve parked outside has caused a bit of an upset. The lieutenant’s been told to hold you securely, pending interview by experts.’
‘Experts?’ said Jamie.
Browning shrugged. ‘Judging by the look of that machine outside, the boffins and the spooks are going to want to speak with you for certain. It’s clear this is linked with the business on Reahlagh and that pod that went up in flames outside your home.’
‘You’re not wrong, but that doesn’t make us bad people,’ said Steph.
Browning shrugged again. ‘No, but I’ve just spent weeks as a liaison officer with some Americans who’ve been over here following up on the incident. General Dower – you’ll know of him, Jamie. They don’t come much more senior than that. He’s been on the prowl; it’s certain he’s going to want to speak with you. Whatever wasp nest you stirred up, it runs right to the top now. Having said that, Dower struck me as a decent enough person. Seems trustworthy to me.’
One of the marines appeared beyond the bars with a tray of hot drinks. ‘Sir, the lieutenant said to bring you and the visitors some tea.’
Browning took the mugs through the bars.
‘They’re all the same, sir. Strong, milk and two sugars.’
‘Thank you, my gratitude to the lieutenant too,’ said Browning.
‘Sir!’ The marine turned smartly away and returned to the guardroom.
‘Here we are guys, one each,’ said Browning. ‘Once we’ve drunk these, I’m going to see if we can’t get permission to move you to the officers’ mess. It’ll be more comfortable. I’m sure they’ll insist on a guard detail, but let’s face it, we do know you.’
‘And we came to you,’ said Steph. ‘That’s not exactly a reason for locking us up.’
‘Let’s drink these first. And Jamie, you can catch me up a little before I put my neck on the line for you, again.’
Chapter 24. Pentagon
Dower hung up the phone and stepped out of his office. In the anteroom his orderly looked up as the general made for the exit, issuing instructions en route.
‘Get Colonel MacMillan on the line, Chief Rivers and Captain Besinski too. Tell them to grab travel bags – we’re going back to the UK now. Rendezvous here in one hour. Tell them the missing Brits have been found, and they seem to have delivered an asset too.’ Dower paused and turned toward the orderly’s desk.
‘If Rivers has any technicians or scientists he’d like involved at ground level, they can come. Oh, tell Colonel MacMillan, if he has an avionics expert he’d like to bring along, that will be fine too.’
‘Yes, sir. I’m on it now.’ The orderly reached for his desk phone.
‘And tell them we won’t wait. If they’re late, they miss the flight.’
Chapter 25. RM Condor
‘Sorry, my officers’ mess plan didn’t work out. But we’ve got an empty billet block cleaned up. It should do you both fine,’ said Browning, walking with Jamie and Steph along one of the barrack roads. They passed the hangars and Jamie’s craft. There, a group of marines were busy dragging a huge canvas over and around it.
‘Just in case,’ said Browning.
‘Are you worried about the press flying a drone over?’ said Steph.
‘No, if any drone crosses the perimeter, it’s fair game – we’d have it down pretty quick. The top brass is more worried about spy satellites. The Russians and Chinese will have a fit if they spot that thing. Thankfully, it’s covered now. The chances are nothing has flown overhead since sun-up.’
‘Do you think they will be watching us? How would they even know we’re here?’ said Steph.
‘Not you in particular,’ said Browning. ‘Nowadays, everyone watches everyone else. But don’t worry about that, it’s above our pay grade, and I reckon we got it covered in time anyway. More important, your breakfast is waiting. Here we are.’
Directly ahead of them was a single-storey building, its brick walls harled to protect them from the northern wind and weather, the windows distinguished by the presence of steel bars.
Two marines were guarding the entrance, and they snapped to attention as Browning led the approach. Jamie recognised them both and acknowledged them with a friendly smile.
‘We’re still prisoners then?’ said Steph.
‘No. I think we’re calling it protective custody,’ said Browning.
‘Is that a legal thing? Are you even allowed to detain me?’ she asked.
‘It is what it is. I don’t know the legal stuff, but I have orders to look after you, and that’s what I’m doing.’
Jamie rested a hand on Steph’s arm. ‘Just let it go, Steph. Baz’s got his orders.’
Passing the guards, they entered the block. It was entirely utilitarian. A straight corridor ran the length of the building. A door set at the far end was marked as a fire exit, four doors evenly spaced to either side along its length.
