Alpha Rising Read online

  ALPHA RISING

  by

  G.L. Douglas

  SMASHWORDS EDITION

  *****

  PUBLISHED BY:

  G.L. Douglas at Smashwords

  Alpha Rising

  Copyright © 2006, 2007 by G.L. Douglas

  All rights reserved. No part of this book maybe used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Alpha Rising can be ordered in print/hardcopy from both Amazon.com online, or through major bookstores online or in-store.

  ISBN: 978-0-595-41100-9

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  Smashwords Edition License Notes:

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Dr. Sten Odenwald, NASA

  "Why should we bother ourselves with the merits of fantasy worlds? Because sometimes it can be a good exercise to pull out the stops and let our minds enjoy unrestricted possibilities. From time to time, answers to great questions have accidentally emerged from the muddy waters of unbridled imagination. A light-hearted and playful romp through the world of science fiction might uncover interesting viewpoints to difficult questions.”

  From Dr. Odenwald’s article Faster Than Light (used with permission)

  http://www.astronomycafe.net

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  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Editor:

  Rob Scharpf, Melbourne, Florida

  Technical advisor and evaluator:

  James V. Rootsey, Melbourne, Florida

  Special thanks to:

  Salvador Hernandez Oliver

  Florida Technical Institute/Dept. of Physics & Space Sciences

  Your awesome knowledge of Black Holes brought deep space to life.

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  ALPHA RISING

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  CHAPTER ONE

  May 25, 2020. Kennedy Space Center. The countdown clock’s bright yellow numerals flashed to T minus 4 hours and counting. At 5:00 a.m., two astronauts aboard an experimental craft would lift off on the most critical and dangerous space mission ever undertaken.

  In NASA’s pre-flight isolation quarters, Commander Bachman “Bach” Turner nodded in and out of sleep, his body exhausted and mind dilated from two intense weeks of rescue run-throughs, medical procedures, and linkup drills.

  After looking at the clock for the tenth time in an hour, the restless astronaut pushed strands of unruly brown hair from his forehead and rolled out of bed talking to himself, or as NASA calls it, “think-aloud protocol,” considered helpful in solving problems. “Eat something. That’ll help me sleep. Shouldn’t eat just hours before a launch, but I’ve done it before and never puked at liftoff.” Bach headed to the kitchen, grabbed the TV remote, and channel surfed as he walked—medical shows, religious music, reruns, scantily clad women, all-night news. “News … and comfort food,” he said, tearing into a bag of chocolate chip cookies and pouring a glass of milk.

  Bach settled into a recliner in the living room, set his milk in the chair’s cup holder, and pressed the heat and massage buttons. The vibrator kicked on and a dozen concentric circles jigged on the milk’s surface. He stuck his finger in the center to disrupt the pattern and watched in fatigued amusement as the quivering liquid reorganized and encircled it. He smiled, remembering a waterwave experiment of larger proportion in the bathtub when he was five years old. The resultant discipline by his mother instantly squelched his interest in deep sea diving. Better was intergalactic travel wearing bath towel capes and flying cardboard-box spaceships that, in his imagination, transported him to distant realms.

  Bach thought about two risky spacewalk missions he made four years ago to repair the ailing International Space Station. Although unsuccessful in returning the station to service, his efforts were recognized as technological milestones. But he knew what lay ahead this time was far more perilous.

  The TV flickered through a round of commercials and a rerun began of an earlier broadcast. A newscaster narrated. “With time running out, and amid heated controversy, NASA officials confirmed the President’s go-ahead for a dangerous rescue mission to find and bring home the crew of four aboard the AstroLab, lost beyond Earth’s solar system since May 7, 2020.”

  Bach shook his head and aimed the remote, but then wondered if they would show his and his crewmate Faith Christopher’s brief statements. “Not sure I want to see myself in a TV interview.” He stuffed a cookie into his mouth and watched anyway.

  The journalist’s voiceover accompanied footage of the AstroLab’s launch. “The next-generation spacecraft nicknamed ‘the Lab,’ lifted off on May 1, 2020, on an expedition slated to transcend the bounds of existing space exploration and rewrite man’s concepts of the universe.” As he continued, portraits and group shots of the two female and two male astronauts flashed on the TV screen. “Commander Luke Lynch, forty-eight; Pilot Moondeni ‘Deni’ Kambo, thirty-nine; Mission Specialist Kaz Lopez, twenty-six, and Payload Specialist/Medical Doctor G.R. Demetri, forty-two, were set to explore a mysterious green sphere that appeared in the Southern Cross constellation two years ago. When research confirmed the orb was a biospheric planet encircled by two crisscrossing bands of water and orbiting its own small sun, space exploration programs geared up and aerospace personnel around the world united with one goal: travel beyond our solar system to explore the planet they named Urusa. The name, a variation of the earliest spellings of Jerusalem, translates to ‘Place of Peace.’

  “Following their classic liftoff from Earth, the crew jockeyed the AstroLab to a lunar-based particle beam accelerator where they made history after the nuclear device thrust their manned spacecraft beyond Neptune and Pluto at warp speed. The Lab performed flawlessly on course to Urusa, but a day before their scheduled touchdown, the crew’s communications ceased and the ship vanished from the monitoring equipment.

  “When efforts to reestablish contact failed, NASA plunged into critical operations for an emergency search and rescue mission. But a day later, sobering facts emerged. If the AstroLab’s crew were without power, their emergency systems would sustain life for five weeks, maximum, and NASA had no other spacecraft capable of travel beyond the solar system.”

  Bach talked to the TV. “I’m gonna find ’em!”

  “Now, against all odds,” the newscaster said, “a risky rescue mission has been pieced together at the last minute.” The camera panned to a table in NASA’s pressroom showing Bach and his crewmate Faith seated with a news anchor.

  Seeing himself on TV, Bach squirmed, cleared his throat a little, and swigged his milk. “Next time, old boy, loosen up a bit. And get a haircut first.” Then he smirked. “But I look younger than thirty-five.”

  The news anchor began his interview. “Here with me today are the two courageous astronauts selected for the search mission, Commander Bachman ‘Bach’ Turner, and Copilot/Mission Specialist Faith Christopher.” The camera moved in for a close-up of Bach as the news anchor continued. “Commander, an incredibly difficult effort lies ahead for you and your copilot. Less than three weeks ago there seemed little hop
e. Now, hope comes with an enormous risk and a time limit of sixteen days to find the AstroLab, and then bring our astronauts home. How did this not-found-in-any-textbook rescue mission evolve so quickly under such tense circumstances?”

  A puff of air slipped from Bach’s lips. “Guts and determination. NASA’s scientists and aerospace personnel didn’t give up. With no other spacecraft suited for warp flight, they simulated every possibility and eventually agreed to use an experimental spacecraft with cutting-edge electronics and detection devices called the Wizard. The best technicians in the world worked around the clock to retrofit Wizard’s systems to withstand particle beam propulsion.” He looked at his crewmate. “We’re going to make it work.”

  The camera focused on Faith, a small, fresh-faced blond who looked more like a teen model than a thirty-six-year-old astronaut.

  The newscaster continued. “Faith, how were you and Bach selected for this vital undertaking?”

  A deep breath prefaced her reply. “My background in astronomy, cosmology, and oceanography was a good fit, and I’m trained for medical emergencies.” She glanced at Bach. “Bach’s an electrical engineer, gifted in computer mechanics and troubleshooting urgent spacecraft issues.” Faith then explained the rescue criteria and link-up drills, adding, “Preparation of this magnitude normally requires months of training, but Bach and I completed it in two weeks.” She smiled faintly. “We’re confident we’ll succeed.” Dark circles under her eyes evidenced the rigorous schedule.

  As the rerun telecast neared its end, Bach rose from the recliner and closed his ears to Faith’s final remark—even though he knew it had softened many hardhearted naysayers who’d opposed risking more lives in an uncharted area of deep space.

  Faith commented to the interviewer, “Bach has a personal interest in the mission.” She paused, then added, “His fiancée is aboard the AstroLab.”

  The newscaster showed no emotion as he leaned across the table and shook hands with the astronauts. “Godspeed, and bring ’em all home safe and sound.”

  Credits rolled on the TV screen, and the old space tune “Starrider” played in the background while NASA’s wake-up alarm chimed in the isolation quarters.

  Bach rifled through his closet, pulled on a tee shirt and surfer shorts and headed to the pre-flight center. After showering, he entered the pressurized sanitary module where waiting personnel helped him into his spacesuit. Faith had already suited up.

  #

  With the countdown clock at T minus 1 hour 30 minutes to liftoff, Bach and Faith rode an elevated walkway to the Wizard’s hatch. Faith entered the ship first and immediately began the pre-flight check.

  Bach stepped aboard with determination blazing in his eyes. He’d long forgotten NASA’s primary concerns: Would particle beam acceleration work on the hastily modified Wizard? Would he and Faith survive with their experimental reflective ionic shield and wraparound g-force diffusing seats, or would the beam compress them and then vaporize the ship? He strapped himself into the pilot’s seat and fixed his gaze on the predawn sky. “Bring it on!”

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  CHAPTER TWO

  With Bach at the controls and Faith manning communication links, the arrow-shaped Wizard roared off the launch pad on a pillar of orange flame. A rolling rumble shook the air as the ship sliced through the clouds and people for miles around experienced the thunder-like aftershock.

  Within two minutes, the spent solid rocket boosters separated from the Wizard’s undercarriage and fell into the Atlantic Ocean. The second and third stages separated at the fringes of Earth’s atmosphere.

  When they reached the moon, Bach navigated the Wizard to the far side to line up with the particle beam accelerator where, just days earlier, the now-missing AstroLab became the first manned spacecraft to use the nuclear-powered device.

  Hovering in the target zone, he looked out the cockpit window. “Awesome!” He motioned to Faith. “Look at that.”

  She glanced over his shoulder. Earth and the moon were so perfectly aligned that the Earth, with the sun ninety degrees off from their flight path, created a blue halo around the crescent moon. She nodded. “It’s a thumbs up from God.”

  Bach checked the ship’s clock. Right on time. In thirty-five seconds the nuclear-powered device at NASA’s lunar outpost would align precisely with the Wizard, then blast it into deep space with a force of thousands of g’s.

  “Five, four, three, two, one….” The radio crackled. “Beam initiated.”

  Silence.

  The ship fired through space like a bullet, distorting the astronauts’ senses. For a moment, Bach felt something more than the expected g-force propulsion. It was as if a protective hand were cradling them, and a powerful omniscient spirit guiding them through a glorious, colorful domain. Images raced by and swirled about.

  The crewmates reached another dimension, and both were still alive.

  #

  Bach unwound from the thrust and the heavenly experience by crowing, “I loved exiting the heliosphere at warp speed. Breathtaking!”

  “Guided by the Almighty,” Faith replied. She checked the comm links. “But now we’re so far out that our satellite communication relay speed is reduced by two-thirds.”

  “That’s the drawback when technology can’t keep up with itself,” he replied. “Reminds me of an old song.” Bach’s quirky habit of singing tunes to match his surroundings kicked in, and he let loose an off-key version of an old song about ground control trying to contact an astronaut lost in space.

  Faith removed her helmet and shook her blond hair free. Zero gravity took it up and out, framing her face like a halo. “I remember that song … but it sounded a little different when David Bowie sang it.” She eased from the copilot’s perch with a smile and drifted in weightlessness to mid ship. “They rushed us through training so fast we hardly got to know each other.” Holding onto an overhead bar, she pulled off her flight suit. “Are you always so relaxed?”

  Bach flashed a high-voltage smile and chuckled. “Relaxed? It’s full-on exhaustion and a post-adrenaline calm, but I’m an easy-going guy.”

  “When I first heard your name, I figured you’d be a boring, classical type. Glad you’re not.”

  “Thanks. My paternal grandparents, the Turners, carry the blame for my name. Those wild rock and rollers passed on their love of rock music to my dad. The seventies group, Bachman Turner Overdrive, was one of their favorites, so when I was born, Bachman was an irresistible choice for my first name. I was a high-energy kid, so my folks started calling me ‘Overdrive.’ Some of my friends picked up on it. I hated being called Overdrive, and Bachman wasn’t any better, so I did the teen thing and declared myself ‘Bach.’ But, I’m as unclassical as they come. I love singin’ rock oldies.”

  Faith stored her gear and shook her head. “The nickname Overdrive will never cross my lips. And I like rock music too, but soft rock.”

  “Oh, I can sing soft rock too,” he replied with a grin.

  Faith drifted back to the cockpit and scanned a data screen. “I wish NASA could have given us a smaller target area. There’s a lot of vacant space out here to search.”

  “Kaz is on that ship. I’ll find ’em,” Bach stated.

  Looking into the endless void beyond the windows, Faith reached beneath the neckline of her jumpsuit and pulled out a gold Byzantine cross necklace she always wore. It floated upward in front of her face. She clutched the small cross to her chest and, out of habit, ran her fingers over the smooth surface.

  Bach unharnessed and removed his helmet as he free-floated from his seat. “Gonna get out of this flight suit.” He playfully somersaulted to the aft galley. “Want something to drink? Cosmic surfing was a real rush, but it sure made me thirsty.”

  “A sip of water, thanks.”

  After storing his gear, Bach bounced to the galley for water tubes. Seeing his reflection in the refrigerator’s metallic panel, he let out a little yelp. “Whooo. My hair exploded!” Patting down strands sti
cking straight up, he joked, “I look like the rock star I always wanted to be.” A few lines of an unknown song resounded through the cabin. “I don’t know where I’m goin’, but I’ll sure know when I’m there.”

  Faith chuckled.

  Bach corkscrewed through the cabin to the flight deck. “That remarkable sentiment comes from a song written by my college buddies in a rock group, the Ravens. And here’s fair warning: I know the words to hundreds of old songs from the days when I worked as a DJ to earn a little money … and meet girls. Mostly meet girls.” He nodded to himself. “But that was a long time ago.” With that, he unzipped the neckline of his jumpsuit, reached inside, and pulled out a small, heart-shaped picture frame holding a photo of a young, dark-haired woman. He opened his hand and allowed the frame to float in the weightless environment, then kissed his fingertips and touched her lips. “Hold tight love, we’ll be there soon.”

  Faith’s eyes widened. “You smuggled Kaz’s picture aboard?”

  “Yeah. For some of us it’s a requisite prank to smuggle something. Did you bring anything?”

  “Yes.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes, my Bible.”

  “Bible? How’d you sneak on something that big?”

  “Friends in high places,” she said, smiling. “Snuck it on my last mission, too. Got it for my twelfth birthday from my grandparents.” She turned serious. “The Bible’s the most important thing you can have anywhere, anytime.”