Deep Black: A Near Earth Second Contact Colonization Odyssey (Infinite Sky Book 2), page 1
DEEP BLACK
Samuel Best
This is book two of the Infinite Sky series.
If you’d like to read the first adventure, you can find it here.
For Toccara
Prologue
Rain pounded the helicopter as it flew low over the Gulf of Mexico.
The sleek craft was like a tiny dragonfly beneath a dark, endless sky. Lightning streaked the blanket of clouds above. Below, gray water churned, slashed with white.
Noah Bell sat in the passenger cabin, staring into the dense storm that smothered the Gulf two-hundred miles off the west coast of Florida. Despite the steady drone of the helicopter and the fact that he’d been awake for nearly twenty-four hours, Noah couldn’t sleep.
His gaze drifted down to the tumultuous waters.
“I can’t see anything in this mess,” growled the cabin’s only other occupant.
Noah leaned back in his seat and regarded the aging billionaire opposite him.
John Harris strained against his safety harness to look out through a rain-smeared window, further wrinkling his tailored gray suit. At sixty-five years old, he had only recently succumbed to the slight paunch he’d fought to keep at bay for most of his adult life. His tan face contrasted his stark white hair, which was so immaculately tended that it looked good even at his most disheveled. Noah remembered hearing a story about Harris and his thousand-dollar haircuts.
“It’s out there, John,” said Noah easily. “Trust me.”
He plucked at a loose thread on his jeans and tugged down the plain T-shirt under his blazer. His wardrobe favored the casual ever since he lost control of the most infamous private space company in history.
“I’m not here because I trust you, Junior,” Harris said, using a family nickname he knew Noah despised. “The only reason I’m here is because your old man went and bought the farm before I could repay a debt.” He settled back in his seat, cursing while he tried in vain to loosen his harness.
“I’m glad you’re here, John,” said Noah, forcing a smile. “I wouldn’t want to do this alone.”
Harris snorted and gave up on the harness. “Like you had a choice. I know your well is dry, kid. It’s a crime, what they did to you. It really is. Taking your company like that.” He jabbed a beefy finger in Noah’s direction. “But you tried to keep the government out of the biggest discovery in history. It’s no wonder they’re holding such a grudge.”
Noah fell silent and looked at his own reflection in the window. Almost twelve months had passed since the first Titan mission, yet in his mind he looked many years older. Strands of white had appeared in his short, dark hair. Shadowed lines creased the corners of his eyes when he smiled, and he was far too pale. Yet whenever he looked in a mirror, his eyes held a boyish exuberance that belied his tired features.
Harris sighed. “I’d just as soon get this nonsense over with so I can go home,” he grumbled. “Told Charlotte I’d catch the red-eye from Tampa tonight.”
“Are you so sure I’m wasting your time?” asked Noah.
Harris stared at him a moment. A slow, condescending smile spread across his face. “Junior, I know enough not to bet on promises, no matter who’s offering. It’s bad business. If your father had called me, I would have wired him the money no questions asked. But you called, and, well…” Harris shrugged as if that explained the rest.
The pilot spoke over the intercom. “Almost there, gentlemen. The platform’s bucking quite a bit, so hold tight when we touch down. The anomaly should be coming up soon.”
“Anomaly?” said Harris. He frowned and leaned forward to look out the window. “You didn’t mention any anomaly.”
Noah suppressed the urge to smile as Harris scanned the ocean below, his curiosity temporarily outweighing his doubt.
“I believe the word I used was ‘disturbance’,” said Noah.
“I don’t care what you call it,” Harris said. “If I think for one second that…” His voice trailed off and his jaw went slack as he looked at the crashing waves below. “Sweet mother,” he whispered. “What is that?”
Noah leaned forward and looked down at the ocean. It was an unbroken plateau of gray and white, except for a large area of water near a half-finished floating research facility. The ocean floor was a mile below.
Next to the floating research facility, the surface dipped down unnaturally to form a deep bowl more than three-hundred feet in diameter, as if a giant, invisible sphere was pushing gently down on the surface. Waves thrashed around the edge of the bowl, but the water inside was perfectly calm.
Harris plopped back against his seat, staring at Noah. A moment later, he slowly closed his gaping mouth, regained his composure, and said, “How much do you need?”
“Quite a lot, actually,” Noah replied.
Harris adjusted his collar and cleared his throat. “Right.” He nodded. “Well. Yes. I’ll want someone who knows what they’re doing running things down there,” he said. “I won’t back anything with just your name on it. No offense.”
Noah grinned. “Don’t worry, John. I know the perfect person for the job.”
Part I
1
Jeff Dolan shielded his eyes and squinted up at the towering 61-meter Neptune III rocket as it waited on launch pad LC-44 at Cape Canaveral Air Force Station. Beneath his dark blue coveralls, his undershirt clung to his sweaty back in the humid Florida air. Blazing sunlight pummeled the tarmac under his shoes with enough July heat to fry an egg.
The rocket’s fuselage glinted as its smooth black exterior vaulted up to its dart-like nose fairing.
Jeff never tired of the sight. Whenever he stepped out of the cool, single-story launch prep facility, he felt like he was seeing the Catalyst for the first time.
Old memories danced in his head, as vivid as if he’d lived them yesterday. He remembered climbing into the crew section of a different Neptune III almost a year ago — Explorer I. He remembered the raw power of four nine-engine Hydra cores igniting at the base of the rocket, pinning him and his three crewmates to their seats as they hurtled into space.
He remembered Titan.
Jeff shook his head, trying to clear away the thought of that distant, icy moon. He preferred to focus on the newer Neptune III, the one still firmly pinned to Earth’s surface. It held no mysteries for him to unlock, and it presented no dangers beyond the mapped potential hazards of such a wondrous machine. He knew every nut and bolt inside it, every strip of wire, and every length of pipe. No more mysteries, just the way he liked it. There were already enough unknowns thrust on him in the wake of the first mission — unknowns he now realized he’d be forced to struggle with for the rest of his life.
Behind him, the door to the Deep Black launch prep facility opened and Manuel Lopez stepped out, sunlight bouncing off his bright orange Constellation spacesuit.
“Afternoon, Commander,” Jeff said, squinting.
“Jeffrey!” Manny said, as if he were surprised to see him. “Nervous?”
“Not a chance. You?”
Manny laughed. “Never!” He clapped Jeff on the shoulder and gave it a shake as he turned to look at the rocket. “Beautiful, am I right?”
The door behind him opened again and three more astronauts wearing matching orange Constellation spacesuits walked outside. Their gold sun visors were pulled down, hiding their faces. Out of the pool of twenty or so potential astronauts, only a handful had been invited to complete the final stages of training. Jeff and the other ground workers weren’t allowed in the training facility. The only member of the crew he ever spoke with was their commander.
“Ah, here they come,” Manny said. He rested his hand apologetically on Jeff’s shoulder. “They want us up there early, I’m afraid.”
He turned to lead the other three astronauts across the tarmac, toward the rocket.
“Good luck up there,” Jeff called after them. Manny looked back and waved.
Jeff didn’t wait to watch them ride the elevator up the gantry. He ducked back into the launch prep facility and paused as the door closed behind him, shutting out the heavy Florida heat. He wiped sweat from his brow and stared at his glistening palm as he recalled the events directly following the first mission.
He remembered waking up on the beach after returning from Titan, still wearing his spacesuit, with no explanation as to how he got there. The rest of his crew had been flying home, months away…yet he beat them back to Earth.
Jeff wiped his palm against his grease-smeared coveralls and headed for the locker room to shower. On the way, another member of the ground crew stopped him and said he had a phone call.
Besides the astronaut prep area and the locker rooms, the facility was a grid of unused conference rooms and offices. Jeff found one with a working phone and pushed the blinking Hold button.
“Jeff Dolan?” asked a deep voice on the other end of the line.
“Mr. Kemp,” Jeff said, surprised. Richard Kemp was the head of Deep Black’s Human Resources department — a man Jeff hadn’t spoken to since he was hired by the rapidly-growing private aerospace startup months ago.
Kemp cleared his throat. “First of all, I want to thank you for your hard work on the Catalyst,” he said. “The ship wouldn’t be half the marvel it is without your direct influence.”
Jeff nodded slowly, sensing what was coming. “I appreciate that.”
“We were lucky you were available to help get us into shape before our return to Titan.”
We, us, our. The meaning behind the words didn’t extend to include Jeff, he noticed.
“When the crew arrives safe and sound at their destination,” Kemp continued, “I want you to take great pride in knowing it was your dedication and determination that got them there.”
“That’s very kind of you to say.”
“Unfortunately, it falls on me to inform you that Deep Black is terminating your contract and that your expertise is no longer required.”
Jeff stared at the blank wall on the other side of the office.
“You’ll have two weeks to wrap things up, of course,” Kemp offered, a bit more gently.
“That won’t be necessary,” Jeff said vacantly. “I wanted to transition to a monitoring station in Mission Control.”
“Hm,” Kemp said. “Yes. I see. Regrettably, Mr. Dolan, those positions are filled. I hope you understand.”
Jeff hung up. He understood just fine.
Deep Black had wanted to glean as much knowledge from him about his previous mission to Titan, and about the company that had sent him there.
Noah Bell’s Diamond Aerospace was defunct, its assets seized by the government in the messiest and most public takeover in recent history. Those in charge of the takeover had been especially eager to get their hands on the plans for the Explorer I spacecraft that carried Jeff and his crew to Titan.
Granted, Deep Black’s yearning for Jeff’s knowledge was rooted in the desire to make their own mission as bulletproof as possible, and he couldn’t fault them for that.
As such, he only told them what they needed to know — everything that would make their ship safer for the journey. Jeff had spent much of his time with Deep Black retrofitting the hybrid thermal antimatter engines for greater stability. The rest of his hours were devoted to safeguarding the air circulation system from the same near-catastrophe that had befallen his own crew on Explorer I. Even a small portion of his technical knowledge was a great boon to any company who wanted to toss another ship Titan’s way — until they were ready to launch, it seemed.
Jeff skipped the shower. He emptied the meager contents of his locker into a duffel bag and left the building. After tossing the duffel into the rusted bed of his beat-up blue pickup truck, he took a last look back at the Catalyst.
At the top of the tall gantry, two ground technicians worked to move the circular hatch into place, sealing the crew inside.
The truck’s door creaked loudly as Jeff opened it. As he prepared to sit, he noticed a black town car approaching the launch prep facility from the direction of the security gates. Heat shimmered up from the road, blurring its edges.
“You gotta be kidding me,” Jeff said.
Kemp had the nerve to send security to escort him off the property. He sighed and slammed his door shut, waiting in the heat with his arms crossed.
He grew more uncertain as the car approached. There were no markings of any kind, no decals identifying the car as a security escort. A yellow government license plate reflected sunlight as the car turned and pulled up next to his truck.
Jeff slowly uncrossed his arms as one of the mirrored back windows rolled down, spilling out cool air.
A sour-faced man in his early fifties sat in the back seat. He wore a tailored suit with a narrow black tie, and he studied Jeff with cold, blue eyes.
“Hello, Mr. Dolan,” he said gravely. “Rough day at work?”
Jeff wiped sweat from his upper lip and looked around the parking lot, half-expecting someone to jog up and tell him there had been some kind of misunderstanding.
“What’s this about?” he finally asked, eyeing the car’s dark interior. Someone else was in there, as well.
“We heard about your recent termination,” the man said, adjusting his tie. Jeff looked at him skeptically. “News travels fast,” the man explained, “if you know where to listen.”
“News travels,” Jeff repeated warily. “Who are you?”
“Your second chance, if you want it.” The man in the car stared at him for a moment, as if he were deciding something, then said, “How would you like to go back to Titan?”
2
Kate Bishop hated packing.
Throwing together a bag for a long weekend was enough to put her over the edge, but having to box up all of her belongings for the big move to Texas was the absolute worst. She spent a long time staring at all the empty boxes set up on her floor in a neat row before she finally chucked something into one of them. It was a little plastic astronaut figurine Jeff had picked up in a souvenir shop when he first started training for his mission to Titan.
She should have tossed it in the garbage, like she had done with almost every other reminder of their relationship, but it wasn’t just a gift from him anymore. After her time in the command building at Diamond Aerospace, watching the events of the Titan mission unfold with a heavy weight in her gut, the plastic astronaut became a totem. Holding it in her hand brought back memories of the fear, elation, pain, and joy she had experienced when Explorer I found the alien torus orbiting Titan.
It also brought back the good memories of Jeff before he drifted away.
The front door opened and Juan stepped inside, running a wide hand across his sweaty forehead. Her ex-coworker from the first Titan mission looked for a dry spot on his shirt to wipe his palm but couldn’t find one, so he smeared it on his jeans instead.
Behind him outside, the moving truck Kate had rented for the long drive from Cocoa Beach to Houston was backed into the small parking lot, its bed half-filled with her belongings.
“You waited for the hottest day of the year on purpose,” said Juan.
“Just to torture you,” Kate replied.
She looked around the living room. Everything but the rattan love seat and reading chair had been cleared out.
Juan eyed the furniture warily.
“Don’t worry,” Kate said, smiling. “The wicker stays. I’m not sure it’s allowed in Texas, anyway.”
She went into the kitchen and brought back two ice-cold beers. Juan slapped his pudgy midsection in preparation and accepted his with a grateful sigh. He plopped down into the reading chair, which protested with a squeak.
Kate sat on the love seat and took a long drink. She pulled her knees up to her chest and swept back her shoulder-length brown hair.
As her body slowly relaxed, the silence bloomed with thoughts of her time working as Ground Teams Manager for Diamond Aerospace, and of the time before that, when she worked in a cubicle at Boeing. Besides playing a very small role in the rare spacecraft systems projects, most of her shifts at Boeing had been spent double-checking timeline spreadsheets.
The job that awaited her in Houston was not so different. It was the kind of job she had been fighting to leave behind ever since Noah Bell offered her a position at Diamond Aerospace.
Needless to say, she was not in any hurry to get there.
“I’m going to miss your free beer,” Juan said, ending the deep silence.
She gave him a weak smile.
“You could have stayed here,” he continued. “I got a gig with a telecom last month. I drive around and fix antennas. Most of the time it’s just a loose cable.” He plucked at his jeans. “You get your own van and everything.”
“I thought about staying,” Kate said. “My old boss gave me a sympathy call after he heard about the whole mess.” She took a swig of beer. “Offered me my old job. I said no at first. But night after night in this place,” she said, gesturing at the room, “day after day thinking about working out at the Cape again…”
She shrugged.
“It wasn’t all bad,” Juan said. “We had a lot of fun, too.”
“That we did. It’s just getting harder and harder to remember those parts.”
He frowned at her. “You gonna be okay?”
The phone in the kitchen rang before she could answer his question.
“I thought I unplugged that stupid thing,” she mumbled. She drank the rest of her beer in several long gulps and took her time getting to the phone. A few minutes later, she wandered back into the living room, half-dazed.
