CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Doctor Gimbel was becoming impatient. They had been cooped up on Level–10 ever since the test firing eight days ago. At least they were bringing the BlackStar down off the Hump so he could finish the final attachment of the solar panels and upload the Sitmap software that would be used to remotely fire the BlackStar at the designated target.
His team had eaten all of their meals down here and even slept on cots for the past eight days. He wanted to take a hot shower and feel clean again. Finally he decided that enough was enough and he gathered his team together.
“Look. I don’t know about you, but I want a shower and a decent bed to sleep in. I’m going to go up to my quarters and clean up and eat like a real person. If any of you want to come with me, feel free to do so. If you don’t, you can stay here. I, for one, am tired of being stuck here with nothing to do,” he said and headed for the elevator.
One by one they followed him. They were all able to fit into the freight elevator. It was not as fast as the UC elevator but speed was not their main concern. Once they reached Level–5 they scattered to their respective pods. Gimbel took a shower, shaved and put on fresh clothes. He was preparing a meal when his door buzzer went off. As he opened the door a fist slammed into his chest taking, him by total surprised. It knocked him backward and onto the floor.
He tried to speak but nothing came out. The general was standing over him with a look of rage on his face. He reached down and pulled the doctor up his shirt, tearing it in the process.
“You stupid son-of-a-bitch. What the hell are you trying to do? I told you to stay down on Level-10 until I said it was okay. This doesn’t look like Level-10 to me, does it to you?” he screamed at Gimbel.
“General I…”
“Don’t you interrupt me you weasel. By God, when I tell someone to do something they had damn well better do it. I don’t give a crap who you think you are. This is my base and you will do what I say, when I say it. Do you understand me?”
Gimbel struggled to get out of the grip of the general, ripping his shirt more.
“I am not in the military general. You do not ‘command’ me. I am here because I want to be,” he shouted at the general with more courage than he expected.
“You listen to me,” the general said, his face red and his fists balled up, “You get this straight doctor. You may not be in the military but I can damn sure make you disappear off the face of the earth. I’ve done it before and I damn sure don’t mind doing it again. You get your team together and get your asses back down to Level-10. I just had the BlackStar taken down there and guess what? No one was home. I want you down there in thirty minutes, comprehend?” he said, unclenching his fists.
“General. We were all dirty, tired, and ready for a real meal. The crap you had sent down was just that, crap. If you expect us to stay down on L-10, you had better get us better food, facilities to clean up in and something besides a damn cot to sleep on. That is unless you intend to make us all disappear, along with the program that controls the BlackStar,” Gimbel said.
He wasn’t sure were the courage was coming from but he wasn’t going to back down now.
“Is that a threat?”
“A fact, general. I am the only one who knows how to load the program, the proper sequences, and codes. The only one, do you understand what I’m saying? If anyone else even so much as attempts to enter the data, it is programmed to self-destruct. If something happens to me you will find yourself back at square one. Unless you want to wait a few more years for someone to figure out what I have done, I suggest…no, I am telling you outright, get off my ass and leave me alone until I am ready to have the men return.”
The general tightened his fists again and the muscles in his jaws were twitching but he didn’t say anything.
“Now, if you will excuse me general, I intend to have a good home cooked meal before I head back to L-10,” Gimbel said, turning and walking toward the kitchen area.
“Just round up your people and have them get back down there when you’re done. I’ll make arrangements for better food, cleaning facilities, and regular bedding,” the general said as he was leaving.
Gimbel didn’t bother to reply.
When Raymond woke up he looked at his watch. It was 12:45 p.m. He had been asleep for almost six hours. He dressed and grabbed some lunchmeat from the refrigerator to made a quick sandwich. He ate three sandwiches and drank two Diet Cokes. No breakfast or lunch had made him ravenous. After putting the plate in the dishwasher, he grabbed a heavy jacket and headed for the Hummer.
A different vehicle was parked there and the other one had been taken away. This one had a hardtop rather than canvas. He wished he had had this one last night. He threw the jacket in the back seat, just in case he ever got caught out in the desert at night again. He drove over to the main hanger and stopped by to discover the latest developments on the Su-11 crash. Dr. Dean took him to the simulator and went through the same narrative as before with Devin.
“So what happens now?”
“Well, once Lockheed decides how to affect the necessary changes on the Su-12, it will be flown out to here for final fitting, development, and eventually deployment. We are hoping that it will be ready to replace the current shuttle fleet within two to three years. While the initial cost is higher, the payback is tremendous. By the tenth flight it will actually be turning a profit rather than costing the government money. That is just something that doesn’t happen very often,” he told Eller.
“That really is something. I’m glad to see you are back on track and ready to move forward again,” he said as he left.
Driving back to S-4 he started looking for something that resembled a hump but every mountain pretty much looked the same to him. The last thing he wanted to do was ask one of the guards or MPs. He was sure it would get back to the general if he did.
After clearing security he walked over to Bay-1 to see if Lynn was there. She was standing there talking to several of her team members, when he approached.
“Good morning, did you make it back alright last night,” she asked when they were alone.
“Let’s just say it was interesting. Someone shot out my windshield when I was heading back,” he said, skipping the part about being lost.
“Oh my God. Did you get hurt?” she said, looking his face over.
“No, I had just stepped out of the Hummer to make sure I was going in the right direction when the shot was fired,” he replied.
“Thank God for that. Did you report this?”
“I told Devin. He seems to think it could have been a shot intended for a coyote that ricocheted and struck the windshield.”
“Honestly, I can believe that. The coyotes are destructive and have even wandered onto the landing strip. They try to keep them out but if one gets in, they usually shoot it,” she said.
“I suppose that makes sense. It was just a bit of a shock to have your windshield shot out at 1:00 a.m. in the middle of the desert.”
“Yes, it can be dangerous out here at night,” she said and smiled.
“So, what are you up to today?”
“We are going to bolt the reactor onto a larger platform with directional control nozzles and see if we can make some progress in trying to get this thing off the ground. We still have a long way to go but now we can start trying to develop a practical way of controlling the flux field,” she explained.
“Well, I want to check out a couple of the other levels. What about if I come by and we do dinner again, as they say?” Raymond asked.