“Now you see, Director Appleby, that’s a good, sound question, and in answer I’ll say, no, you may not ask. Dr. Compton has been designated by me as a project director for findings on how we get to the Moon, and will lead any effort in this endeavor, if there is an effort. Now, is there anything more?”
“Sir, this Case Blue, is it really-”
“Have a good day, Mr. Director.” The line went dead and Appleby slowly reached out and disconnected his end with the question officially unasked.
“He can be a bully; I actually think he enjoys it at times.”
Virginia and Sarah looked at Niles and saw that it wasn’t the president that had enjoyed being a bully, but Niles. They saw the quick little smirk that disappeared from his face before they could fully realize it had been there.
“Well, if the president says you’re qualified to be here, then you must be up on your Astro-Sciences and Gaming.”
“Yes, I believe between the three of us we won’t make complete fools of ourselves with your staff,” Niles said, nodding toward Sarah and Virginia.
As Appleby gathered his notepad, Sarah leaned in toward Niles.
“Director, if I may ask, what is Case Blue?”
“Lieutenant, as long as you live, don’t you ever say those words aloud to anyone,” Niles warned. “There are only a hundred men and women across the entire globe that know what that code name is for, so forget you ever heard it.” Niles kept his eyes on Sarah until she felt intimidated enough that she just nodded her head.
Director Appleby walked to the door and held it open for his guests.
“Then I guess we’ll start with any questions you may have about DARPA. I’ll answer them the best I can on our way to Building 11 for a tour of our Industrial Necromancy Division.”
“Excuse me?” Virginia said.
“It’s a place where dreams come true, Ms. Pollock-heavy metal dreams.”
As Niles, Virginia, and Sarah toured Building 11, they marveled at the mock-ups and engineering models they examined. There were seventeen different kinds of space vehicles that utilized everything from solid fuel to ion pulse generators for propulsion. There were over one hundred different companies currently bidding on the new Mars lander and environmental habitat and, best of all, there were full-scale mock-ups of the newest Ares I and Ares V rockets along with an Orion crew capsule from the Constellation program, which had just been canceled by the president. These were to have been used to return not only Americans, but also many other nations back to the Moon.
“Mr. Appleby, do we have anything that is real here, or are we becoming the world’s best dreamers and toy makers?”
Niles cringed at the harsh way Virginia stated her question. As for himself, he would have tried to use a little more tact, but Virginia had her way and that’s why she was with him.
“Ms. Pollock,” Appleby said, rounding on her as men and women from DARPA’s Industrial Necromancy Division stood and wondered what was happening. “I assure you these are not toys. With less than a full year’s warning, we have companies out there ready to get started on these so-called dreams. In less than two or three years, with the right budget, we can have men back on the Moon not only for a few days but for longer, very much longer, durations.”
“Mr. Appleby, you fail to understand, we may have to go back now ,” Niles said. “If we lag behind, the Russians or Chinese will get there first. Then they could have a substance that makes plutonium look like Silly Putty. May I also remind you that there has been a discovery of advanced weaponry found at that same location that we hope went up in the Shackleton explosion, but if it didn’t it will set the United States back three hundred years or more in technology if somebody else gets to it first. You can see why the president is so concerned. He knows he may have made a foolish mistake by trying to be fiscally responsible in cutting your budget, but tell me who could have foreseen this happening? There are other areas of the military that the president has to concentrate on that have nothing to do with fighting our fellow man.” Niles refused to look away after the harsh rebuke.
“That does not change the fact that we are nowhere near to getting there, even if…”
The three visitors watched Appleby’s expression change as if a sudden gust of wind had blown away all previous thought.
“Mr. Appleby?” Niles asked.
“Follow me please,” Appleby said as he spoke over his shoulder and raced down the main floor of Building 11. “As I said, we cannot get there with what we have on the design board. What we need is a proven and already built technology.”
“And you have something like that?” Virginia asked, as she tried to keep up with Appleby.
“No, we do not,” he said, opening the security door with his ID badge.
“Then-” Sarah started to ask.
“The very people who have been there before,” the thin man said, as his guests filed out into the bright sunlight.
“Who?” Niles insisted.
“Why, NASA, of course!”
Any hope of knowing exactly where they were had gone by the wayside as they were immediately hooded and moved into the back of a truck. Each of the Americans-Ryan, Mendenhall, Everett, and Collins-had a security man sitting next to him, preventing any conversation or touching, with the handcuffs making the ride that much more uncomfortable.
Jack was silent and had his eyes closed under the black hood. What he had hoped would happen was indeed happening. Given Niles’s explanation of the short time frame they had to come up with something, what better way was there to get inside any heavily guarded facility than to be arrested and thrown in? It was a risk, and more than likely that risk had now tripled, but they had to play the hand they had been dealt. For the moment Jack was busy estimating speed and time as the truck made its way to wherever they were going. They had made three turns-the first left, the next two right-and they had stopped twice, so he took all that into account for his estimate. He knew all three of his men were doing the same calculations.
Every once in a while, Jack could hear the security men whispering to each other as they joked or spoke about one thing or another. The curious thing about their conversation was that they were speaking English in two distinct accents, one American and the other German. Finally, as Collins listened and calculated at the same time, the truck came to a sudden halt and the engine was shut off. Instead of being taken from the covered back of the truck, which was probably a Mercedes brand vehicle, they felt the bottom give way on their stomachs. Although the truck had ceased moving, it was now being lowered by elevator. The colonel figured any pretense about this being an Ecuadorian government-funded operation went right out the window.
After traveling downward quite a distance, all movement ceased. They heard the tailgate being lowered, and then they felt themselves eased onto a hard surface. Jack was the first to have his hood removed. He blinked in the bright fluorescent lighting. They were in a giant concrete tunnel of engineered beauty. It was rounded above the floor and traveled in a steady downhill slope, disappearing at least half a mile ahead of them. Jack remained silent as the others had their hoods taken off.
“Hey, I thought we were going to eat Salisbury steak,” Ryan said, as a way of getting attention.
“Yeah, I’m hungry. What happened to lunch?” Mendenhall asked.
The distraction gave Everett the chance he needed. He slid in beside Collins.
“About three miles,” he whispered.
“Yeah, three miles and some change, traveled in a roundabout way. We didn’t go anywhere,” Jack said, as he watched two menacing and very large guards staring down Will and Jason. “We zigzagged in a circle around the perimeter and then ended up right back at the main gate and then up a hill to the base of a mountain. They drove in here and then we took an elevator down to this marvelous place. I figure-”