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Authors: Valmore Daniels

Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #High Tech, #Adventure, #Fiction

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BOOK: Forbidden the Stars
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“For what that’s worth!” Michael blurted. “A couple of bottles of whisky is enough to get those damned commissionaires to look the other way for five minutes. Damn!” he cursed. Turning to Loche, he spoke through gritted teeth. “You know what this means?”

“It means someone out there knows all about Element X, and probably has information we don’t. That information, I would assume, indicates that Alex is more involved in this than being a hapless bystander. Captain Turner’s reports on Alex are less than forthcoming; Alex has been affected somehow, the kidnappers know more than we do about it, and they took him because of it.”

“The possibility occurs to me that either we’re not the first ones to encounter Element X, or that someone is reading every file we transmit.” Michael paced up and down the office. “We need more information. I want everything we’ve got on anything to do with Element X, Alex,
Orcus 1
,
Dis Pater
, Macklin’s Rock, everything, collected. I want a special team set up to investigate this—take people off the element searcher team if you have to. There’s something about all of this that we’re missing. Something right in front of our noses. God, I hate being left in the dark; it’s infuriating. I want answers!”

“I’ll get right on it. I know just the people to use.” He left Michael to brood by himself.

The Director of Quantum Resources did not brood long. There were just too many bits of disjointed and seemingly unconnected data, and too many pieces of this grand puzzle that did not connect in any way. There was too much that he did not know.

Over the past few months, he had been busy getting Quantum Resources off its feet. Although they did not have any product to show for their efforts yet, their charter provided for a lengthy R&D lapse, considering the scarcity of the element around which their company was based.

Of the forty-seven employees at Quantum Resources, thirty were collating data and trying to determine relationships among asteroidal figures to narrow down the conditions where Element X might be found. It was an astronomical task, but had about as much chance as randomly picking an asteroid and physically surveying it.

Ten employees were engineers determining properties of Element X based on sketchy data, and attempting to develop theories on possible uses of the mysterious element.

The remaining seven, including Michael, Calbert, and Raymond, were administrative. As it stood, Raymond Magrath was more than capable of handling internal administration by himself. Calbert was effective as a liaison between Quantum Resources and their parent corporations. Michael did not have any concrete task before him except for the odd meeting between NASA and CSE execs.

He decided to roll up his sleeves and get himself immersed hip-deep in this investigation. It was time to get down and dirty.

The first question on his mind, something that had been bothering him for a number of months, was Captain Turner of the
Orcus 1
. Her reports to NASA were inconsistent.

When dealing with the technical aspects of the mission, such as current shipboard conditions, the ongoing investigation of the TAHU, and transmission of theories put forth by the scientists aboard concerning
Dis Pater
, she was exhaustive. Concerning Alex, she was elusive. Although her statements were anything but brief, the content never changed: Alex was fine. Alex was doing well. Alex was normal and healthy.

Obviously, somebody thought Alex was extraordinary enough to stage a pirating and kidnapping of the young boy. Captain Turner had spent the better part of five months with the youngster; she had to have seen something out of the ordinary.

Turning to his desktop, he entered a high-security password in his computer, typed an encoded EPS message. He directed his transmission to intercept the
Orcus 1
.

*

To Captain Justine Turner, Orcus 1

 

From: Director Michael Sanderson, Quantum Resources, Inc.

 

Security: Level 1 Clearance

 

I have been apprised of the attack on the Orcus 1, and the subsequent kidnapping of Alex Manez. I appreciate the extremes to which the abductors have gone to complete their task. All measures are being taken by your and my governments to find Alex.

 

It has come to my attention that Alex may have been affected by exposure to the element we are temporarily terming “Element X” in ways that we have not yet fathomed; we suspect the third party involved has obtained information about Alex that may make it imperative we recover him, beyond the obvious reasons to do so. It would be helpful if you could provide me with any observations, however mundane, you have made about Alex that may not have made it into previous reports.

 

Director Michael Sanderson
Quantum Resources, Inc.
*

He tapped the SEND option on his console. It would take more than twenty minutes for the message to reach the
Orcus 1
; an additional amount of time for the captain to form her response; and another twenty minutes for the reply to reach him. Still, Michael checked his computer a dozen times that hour for messages.

When his secretary informed him she was heading off for lunch, Michael realized he was hungry. To clear his mind, he put on his overcoat and gloves, and took a walk down the street to the Webster Family Feed Company for a ham on rye and a tall glass of unsweetened iced tea.

His thoughts were in turmoil. The national and international ramifications of the events of the past few months were staggering, but Michael could not help thinking about Alex.

The poor kid. First, he lost his parents, then was propelled more than four billion kilometers from home; and, as he made the long journey back to Earth, he was accidentally ejected into space, and subsequently kidnapped by forces unknown. How would all that affect a child’s mind?

When Michael arrived back in his office, his computer DMR screen was flashing, indicating an urgent incoming message.

Barely suppressing his excitement, he opened the communiqué and read Captain Turner’s reply.

*

To: Director Michael Sanderson, Quantum Resources, Inc.

 

From: Captain Justine Turner, Orcus 1, NASA
Security: Level 1 Clearance

 

Against my better judgment, I am forwarding selected excerpts from my private journal—coded with a double-redundant protocol—to you through a trusted colleague; you should receive the uncoded version in a matter of hours. It is painfully obvious no transmission is completely secure; I would have rather waited to present this information to relevant parties in person, but have taken as many steps as possible to keep this information secure. I ask that you keep this to yourself for the time being.

 

A second copy is being forwarded to Director William Tuttle.

 

Captain, Justine Turner, Orcus 1, NASA
*

The wait would drive him crazy. Michael decided to occupy his time answering his other meshmail and browsing the Earthmesh.

Knowing that it could be years before Quantum Resources saw a profit, Michael had diverted a small percentage of the startup capital into a number of secondary investments; hedging his bets, as it were. He logged onto the EarthMesh Global Stock Market and checked the progress of his accounts, selling off a few, buying into a few other companies that looked good to him.

A knock on his door brought him back to the here and now, and he looked up as Calbert Loche entered the room.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’ve formed a research team of seven for this project. Most of the information available is already in our data banks, but they’ve decided to start from the beginning and work their way through it all as if for the first time.”

“Good. I’ve made a few inquiries of my own to obtain more data. I’m racking my brains. There’s this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that tells me we’re missing something crucial. I want to know more. I want Alex found.”

“Those are some of the directives I issued them. Also, they are contacting a few other organizations that might have a different angle on the entire
Dis Pater
matter; SETI and some of its independent splinter groups. Crop circle experts are having a field day, saying they’ve predicted this for over a hundred years. There’s a lot of data out there, and a lot of people with even more opinions. There are the Luddites who think progress is the devil’s own weapon against the soul, and would do anything to keep this information from being used. If you’re looking for someone who’s responsible for the kidnapping, we’ve got ourselves about a billion-and-a-half suspects. And almost as many motives.”

“I’d like to narrow that down, just a little,” Michael replied acerbically. “And quickly. Within the next week or two.”

“You ask the impossible, and we shall provide.” Calbert smiled lightly. “Anyway, it’s knock-off time. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Michael looked at the chronometer in the corner of his DMR. “Already? Where did the time go? I’m going to stick around a while, check a few leads.”

“All right. See you.”

“Bye.”

Michael went back to his computer, but he could not focus on anything. He leaned his chin on the palm of his hand and stared blankly at the monitor, letting his thoughts run away; a free association exercise of sorts.

He imagined traveling to the stars, meeting alien cultures, and charting the entire galaxy. What an adventure!

He was jarred out of his reverie when his communicator chimed. Picking it up, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Sanderson here.”

“Henry at the front desk, sir. Your wife is here to pick you up. She’s waiting outside in the car.”

“My wife! She’s not supposed to be picking me up. I drove here this morning myself. Are you sure it’s my wife?”

“Uh, yes, sir. She rang in and said she’s been waiting for twenty minutes.”

Michael sighed. It probably was time to turn in for the day. He was exhausted and far too frustrated to be effective. He needed a good night’s sleep.

“All right. If she rings in again, tell her I’m on my way.”

“Certainly, sir.”

Michael hung up the communicator and, with a puzzled expression on his face, put on his jacket, packed his briefcase, and headed down to the lobby. He nodded at Henry as he passed through the front desk security scanners, and stepped outside.

His car was idling in the pickup area. He couldn’t see through the tinted windows, but when the horn sounded sharply—a trait his wife had when impatient—he subconsciously relaxed. Walking over to the passenger side, he opened the door and got in.

There was a man dressed in a large winter jacket and wore a balaclava pulled down over his face. With a speed that stunned Michael, the man opened the driver side door, slipped his car card in the slot to lock all doors, and closed Michael in. Fumbling for his own card, Michael found it and used it to release the doors, and jumped out, but by the time he was on the sidewalk, there was no sign of the stranger.

Looking back inside the vehicle, Michael saw a manila envelope between the driver and passenger seats. Sitting back down inside the car, he opened the envelope. Inside was a report.

The front page read:

*

Decrypted Text

Excerpts From The Official Flight Journal Of

Captain Justine Churchill Turner.

*

He flipped quickly through the dozen pages of transcribed entries, describing Alex’s ability to manipulate electrical devices, and his apparent insomnia. Obvious side-effects of exposure to Element X.

Looking around to see if anyone was watching him, Michael slowly went over the journal excerpts line by line. The insomnia, the computer files, the hidden camera, the electrical telekinesis—all pointed toward something in Alex. A mystery. There was something there.

By the time Michael got to the end of Captain Turner’s report, he knew exactly
why
Alex had been kidnapped, and why the pirates had gone to such lengths.

The only question that remained was…
who
were the pirates?

 

__________

 

Pirate Ship :

Sol System :

 

Like a petrified clam
within its shell, Alex waited inside the security receptacle and listen for the sounds of the kidnappers to come to pry him out forcibly. He was too panicked to remember to use his special clairvoyance to watch their approach.

Docking with the pirate ship had been clumsy, and if Alex had not been secure in the receptacle, he would have had numerous bruises and bumps to show for the experience. As it was, he was more scared than if he had been injured; if he had been, at least he would have something to take his overactive mind off what would become of him.

In the DMR game,
Nova Pirates,
a captured fighter would be taken to the pirates’ home base where he would be enslaved for the rest of his life, performing menial chores and suffering the abuse of the pirates. That was just a game; this was reality; and over the past six months, Alex had come to know that most of the time reality was much worse.

On the
Orcus 1,
he had felt safe, secure, and could afford to be aloof, reserved, even arrogant in an effort to hide the internalized pains of losing his beloved parents in such a brutal manner. The
Orcus 1
was an accommodating, concerned crew.

On the pirate ship, he would have no such luxury.

He could imagine his future torment. What had he done to deserve such horrid fate? His parents killed, himself kidnapped. The song in his head threatened to drive him insane. What else was going to befall him?

BOOK: Forbidden the Stars
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