AMERICA ONE - NextGen (Book 5) Read online

  The specialists from Tel Aviv told him that the system would work better at even higher altitudes, as they had it around the borders of Israel: aboard continuously flying aircraft.

  Ryan didn’t want people watching his every move from the lip of the crater. Ryan and his crew now could see the movement of a scorpion for 25 miles in all directions. They had delivered four complete surveillance systems, and he knew where the others were going. Also, because all the cameras on the crater lip were facing outwards, anybody secretly viewing any of the live feed would not see movement inside or above the crater.

  Once he could get a unit of the new system into space aboard America One, then he could check movement from 350,000 feet for twenty minutes every hour. It seemed that this new system had better cameras than his own space cameras, and if so, he wasn’t giving them back.

  The runway was completed only a day late, and within twelve hours of completion the Aussies left the new base. Now Ryan had the area all to himself and his crew. The massive Israeli Air Force helicopter had already done its job in one day working with the Libyan Air Force Chinook helicopter that had arrived.

  All the earthmoving equipment was up and on the flat sand inside the crater, with several shipping containers of material from Israel and tons of supplies and everything else they needed to survive up there and dig into the Pig’s Snout. The second chopper was an old CH-47 Chinook, which could be flown by Bob Mathews, and or his crew. They had all flown Chinooks while in the Air Force, and Beth in the left seat flew the chopper into the crater once all visitors had departed.

  A plan had slowly come together over the last couple of days. Ryan and his crew knew that every reentry from space would be recorded by dozens of countries monitoring his movements. What else did NASA or the space agencies around the world have to do? Several Earth telescopes had found America One. It hadn’t been difficult with the ship orbiting so low; many had seen its blue haze around the mother ship and was questioning whether that haze, or shield, or whatever it was, was the reason all attacks on the spaceship had failed.

  Captain Pete knew that somebody would soon send up more laser cubes to watch how his ship destroyed them. He and Ryan discussed whether the mother ship should climb higher and become a more difficult target, but Ryan had said that being so low was showing strength to their adversaries, and to let the planet see their new system.

  The crew on the bridge had pondered for days on how to keep maximum flight numbers up in space when the small craft reentered. It was Igor who thought up the answer. They still had four of the one-way supply vessels that had launched from Russia and Europe over a decade earlier, which were still strapped against the mother ship’s outer skin. They had held nonperishable supplies for many years, and only one had been used to send waste out toward the sun before that problem had been rectified in the biology department a year after leaving Earth. For the last several years, every bit of waste had been reused one way or another.

  Now the dormant and aging supply vessels awaited a new job.

  “We still have two spare shields,” said Igor, speaking in Matt during the radio meeting, the day the builders left. “Nobody on Earth knows where our lasers are. Whether they are on our shuttles, and or on the mother ship. Commander Joot’s two craft have their own shields to reenter. We have four of these old cargo vessels, which could be used by Earth for target practice if need be. Our two mining craft and the three shuttles are all outfitted with shields. We can replace two of the shuttles when they reenter with these supply ships, dress them up with a power pack and a shield, and get the mining craft to deposit them on our rotational route, taking the place of the shuttles when they reenter.”

  “I’m getting your idea,” said Ryan. They could show more space vehicles than ever before. “Those four supply vessels, although empty, will increase our apparent numbers: three shuttles and two mining craft, and the four empty and useless supply vessels. Ten spacecraft orbiting Earth. That should show Earth that we have even more vessels than they have counted up to now. They already know we have eight ships orbiting Earth, but don’t know if one or all our vessels have lasers, and when two shuttles and the two Matt craft enter, there are still eight vessels up there. Igor, I’m going to double your pay. A fantastic plan.”

  “Thank you for your generosity, boss,” replied Igor, smiling far above Ryan and on the bridge. “Twice nothing is still nothing.”

  “Maybe I’ll bring you up one of my freshly caught Mahi-Mahi as a bonus when I go fishing,” added Jonesy, sarcastic and very bored in SB-III.

  “Igor, how about the latest state of the art Earth-made surveillance cameras, as payment?” Ryan added, enjoying the banter.

  “Now you’re talking, boss,” replied Igor, excited. Ryan knew how to please his crew.

  “I think we are on to something here,” added Captain Pete. “I’ll also take one of those fresh fish when you get them. We can set up Igor’s new plan and have it ready in 24 hours. I’m thinking that there could be more Matt craft inside the secret location. I spoke to Commander Joot, and he remembered six Matt craft being built while he was down on Earth. Due to the lack of increased alcohol manufacturing over the same period, he doesn’t believe any more craft would have been manufactured. At least we can turn three of them into liquid-hydrogen-powered craft one day if there are more down there.”

  “The more numbers orbiting up there the better,” added Ryan. “It is always good to keep the enemy guessing, and my reasoning on our spacecraft numbers is that the countries who want to attack us will have to deal with a scenario where every one of our craft might have a laser to blow their launch sites apart. Igor, well done. A great idea, and very cheap. I hope we find two more black boxes down here as well.”

  Ryan and Kathy decided that it was a good idea to take several more international children with them. If they could be turned into leaders, then maybe planet Earth could be revitalized with clever, peaceful thinkers one day. China and Russia had been asked a day earlier, but had refused to send a child. As far as Kathy was concerned, they had the best American, Joanne Dithers, and the young girl had kissed Ryan on the cheek and hugged Kathy when they had told her that through popular female demand she was now part of the team.

  Some of the newest children were already arriving; the two boys from Israel, as well as two younger boys from Australia were being flown in straight from Perth and arriving within the hour. One boy from Tripoli and one boy from Canada had arrived on a third jet a few hours earlier, one day after the builders had left. These were the last visits Ryan allowed for the time being, as it was time to bring in the heavies from space. The clock would start ticking, and Ryan wanted to make sure that everyone was ready.

  “How are my parents, and about my spot of fishing, boss?” asked Jonesy in Matt early the next morning as SB-III flew over the Sahara.

  “Your parents are happy, sunburned and peaceful,” replied Ryan in the same language, “enjoying the sunshine and look forward to joining you. We are all working out down here, Mr. Jones, preparing for our exits; even your parents are joining in. Your father is still quite tough, and can run. Unfortunately, it seems that we are all in danger of being attacked if caught without protection on Earth. It’s a big problem I cannot fix, Mr. Jones.”

  Ryan felt bad. Jonesy had been promised a fishing trip. A couple of the crew, including VIN, Suzi, he and Kathy, had looked forward to spending a few days relaxing. “I know I have promised, but once we have completed our tasks down here, Chief Astronaut, then I will do my best, I promise for the second time.”

  “Roger that,” replied Jonesy grudgingly once his wife sitting in the right seat reminded him that the boss kept his promises. All the astronauts had been living in their craft for the last week and were tired, but because they all had children down on Earth, the three shuttles kept up their orbital surveillance.

  “Are there enough pilots to land Commander Joot’s ships?” Ryan continued. He had lost touch with the goings-on aboard his ship.


  “Roger,” replied Jonesy again in Matt. “Max Burgos and I will be a team in one of the Matt craft. Joot and Roo are in the other. I believe that once I have completed my first vertical landing on Earth, and with the blue shield, I could even try to bring in the shuttle the same way. Maggie is flying our baby, and she will have Igor or Boris, who are good enough to be second mates. Both are accurate shooters, over.”

  A couple of the names came out in English. The Matts hadn’t changed several of the names into their language, but at least anybody listening in couldn’t understand the words around the names. At least 100 different radio hotspots around the world would be scratching their heads. The clicks, and whatever this language was, would sound totally alien to them.

  “Captain Pete, a security update please,” Ryan then asked his captain.

  “The first two empty vessels have had the shields added and activated and are in position behind SB-II and SB-III respectively. They came up on radar as lone blips ten hours ago. The other two should come online in about three hours without shields, and the mining craft will release the second two cargo vessels in thirteen hours. Then we should be ready to begin reentries, over.”

  The time had come to reenter Earth’s atmosphere, arriving at a new location and with different glide slopes. Ryan hoped that there wouldn’t be a problem, and that nobody would start World War Four as soon as they noticed the craft on their radar systems decreasing altitude one after the other.

  At the last moment Ryan decided to just bring in SB-III, Maggie flying with Igor, and Commander Joot with Elder Roo, to see any reactions. The watchers would only see SB-III arriving. Commander Joot’s craft was virtually invisible once it arrived within the upper atmosphere. Both spacecraft would take 18 hours to refuel and load with cargo. There were cargo pods, liquid hydrogen and 500 gallons of alcohol ready on the airfields, as well as the same amount of alcohol already in the crater for the arriving Matt craft. That would still leave ten radar blips up there, hopefully enough to deter anybody from sending up missiles. The Matt craft would be protected by its shield, but once reentry was initiated, Jonesy wouldn’t be able to activate the shield, even though Commander Joot thought it safe. They would all wait and see.

  With all three lasers at the ready, and orbiting around the Earth, the reentries began.

  Commander Joot’s entry point was identical to Maggie’s, even though he would use the last 5,000 feet landing vertically. He had some sort of memory system aboard, which Igor had realized a few days earlier that if a replica was placed into SB-III, might help Jonesy reenter with his shield live one day. There were so many questions the America One crew had where the answers could be deep below the sand inside the Pig’s Snout.

  For over an hour after reentry had begun, until the silver glint far above the crater was seen by the strongest of eyes, few words were said from either platform.

  Both Commander Joot on his small radio pack by Roo’s feet and Maggie in SB-III only came on air once they were below 150,000 feet. Maggie was closing above the Head of Africa while Commander Joot was already on hover 7,000 feet above sea level and 3,000 feet above the crater. His craft, with Elder Roo as copilot, was flying on exactly the same path it had flown 10,000 years earlier.

  Something underground in the crater was still working, as Commander Joot said that his craft was on complete autopilot and was being brought in through either computer programming in his own craft, or from the crater below.

  In the meantime, Ryan had wanted his guys to man the earthmoving equipment. Bob Mathews and Jonesy’s father had used these types of machines before, and they first practiced digging and lifting a ton of earth at a time and depositing it a few yards away. The crater was still pretty wide, and nobody yet knew where to start digging.

  Ryan watched the commander’s spacecraft inside its blue shield slowly lower itself down toward the crater. Igor and Boris had fitted the portable radio into the Matt craft on the return journey from Mars.

  “My ship is drifting off center of the crater below me. I am worried that the weight of sand could destroy the automatic roof door when it opens. Ryan, what should I do?” Joot’s voice came over the radio from high above.

  “Can you take over manual flight?” Ryan asked in Matt.

  “Yes, but that will interrupt my automatic flight into my parking position inside the base,” was the reply.

  “Commander, gauge your position above the exact place you would have touched the sand,” responded Ryan, “then switch to manual flight and bring her in on the other side of the crater. There is a landing zone ready for you, and we have a crewmember with batons ready. Once you show us where you would have entered, we can begin digging.”

  To all looking at the silver craft in a bright blue soap bubble high above them, it was certainly beautiful. Ryan looked over to Jonesy’s dad. His mouth was open as he shielded his sunglasses peering up at the vertical landing craft. The craft seemed still totally silent.

  “Sierra Bravo III, this is Desert Control, do you copy, over?” said Ryan’s base controller sitting next to him. As with the rest of America One’s original crew, the controller spoke fluent Matt.

  “Roger, computers still operating the craft. I’m leaving the autopilot on until 50,000 feet as preprogrammed, over,” replied Igor.

  “Roger that,” continued ground control. He manned the bank of computerized approach systems and controlled the shuttle more than Maggie in SB-III. “I have a few changes to make to the computer approach path. The approach is too fast. I will lift her nose up two degrees for ten seconds. Confirm altitude 88,000 feet, 3,100 knots. Temperature on ground 100 degrees, zero wind, over.”

  “Roger, 87,100 feet, 3,090 knots; ground temperature 100 degrees, zero wind, over,” replied Maggie calmly. Jonesy was listening in far above on the radio in the second Matt craft. He could see the approach of the shuttle in his mind, and knew exactly what was happening. His wife was perfect at flying and speaking Matt too, except that all the shuttle call signs were still spoken in English.

  Ryan was busy talking to VIN on the second frequency as he looked up. “Commander Joot, you have ten seconds to land. A sonic boom is ten seconds out.”

  The commander, knowing that the sonic boom from the shuttle passing overhead could jostle his craft at the last moment just before landing, brought the vehicle, surrounded by its blue shield, gently onto the sand. The landing was totally silent, and Ryan realized that the shield trapped the noise. It was the first time any of them had seen the shield operational in atmospheric conditions, and it looked like a soap bubble, floating as if a child had just blown it and let it go. The pretty Matt craft and its surrounding soap bubble looked totally surreal.

  “Sierra Bravo III to Desert control, passing through 49,000 feet 27 miles to target, speed 710 knots, have your crater visual. Preparing to take manual control, over,” said Igor.

  “Copied that. First ship is down and clear, over,” replied the man next to Ryan.

  Ryan thought he saw a glint of sunlight reflection high and very fast above them when the sonic boom of SB-III passing through the speed of sound echoed and rattled the crater. The sand didn’t vibrate, as it was packed down pretty hard, here for centuries.

  “America One bridge to Desert Control, no interesting movements around the planet as of yet, over.”

  “SB-III to Desert Control, I have manual,” said Maggie. “Sixteen miles to target, 41,000 feet, 669 knots, nothing out here but sand, believe I have the runway in sight, shimmering on the horizon but in sight, over.”

  Jonesy knew when he was beat but stayed quiet. He didn’t want to mess up his wife’s concentration. Whether it was her abilities, or the extra flight on autopilot, in a split second of hearing her last callout he knew she wouldn’t use the air brakes, something he had used on every single approach. She had got the approach absolutely perfect and his wife let him know a few seconds later.

  “SB-III, perfect glide slope, 3 miles to target, 17,000 feet, 494 kno
ts, no air brakes needed, wheels out…one mile to target, 7,900 feet, 330 knots…perfect slope, 400 yards out 1,800 feet, 290 knots…flaring out…rear wheels down…SB-III’s front wheel down…chute going out. The Eagle has landed, over,” added Igor as Maggie landed SB-III, smiling at her perfect accomplishment that would be noticed high above them by her perfect husband.

  “SB-III, Roger, Maggie, Igor. Congrats, you know what to do, over,” said Ryan. A minute later he got a response from Maggie. “SB-III, Roger. We are stationary, about 1,500 feet from the runway end. The chute has been ejected, Bob is picking it up. Fuel at seven percent, ready for shield deployment then VTOL launch.”

  The Chinook on the ground several hundred feet away from the stationary shuttle waited as Bob Mathews, with help from Hans Dietrich and Joanne Dithers, collected the parachute, rolled it up and carried it back to the helicopter.

  None of the crew in the Chinook were prepared for what happened next. The shuttle began to be enveloped by a blue soap bubble that came out of nowhere.

  “Would have made a fortune with car washes working like that,” said Bob Mathews standing next to the Chinook. “Wish I knew what they were talking about.”

  “That is not physics we have seen here on Earth before,” added Hans.

  “It must be the secret shield,” added Joanne Dithers, as shocked as the others.

  The shield slowly enveloped Maggie’s craft, and within fifteen minutes and with no sound at all the shuttle left the ground as the bubble carried the craft away.

  Ryan and his astronauts had prepared for ultimate safety. The shuttles would be totally defenseless from an air or missile attack while on the new airfield, and the crew had programmed the last refueling from America One with an added 7 percent of fuel. Usually the liquid hydrogen burned off by 140,000 feet, but on this approach the computers had closed down the thrusters as usual, but Maggie had landed still with fuel in her tanks. As she was coming in empty of cargo, the extra weight wasn’t noticeable.