Bleaker Page 4

  “Not enough to kill them, but enough to knock ’em out,” Tucker said. “Not kill them.”

  “We hope. Now…” Sam indicated to Ray to start the video. “This is all we have of the NAT going through.”

  Tucker watched the flashes of light, then it went black. But there was only a brief second of power loss then distorted images appeared. It looked as if a camera was extremely out of focus.

  “Is that the other side?” Tucker asked.

  “It is,” Marshman added. “We have photos that an expert has worked on. They are a little clearer. Ray, can you pull them up.”

  A blurry, yet distinguishable enough image appeared. It was of a blue planet. “That’s not the Noah,” Tucker said.

  “No, it’s not, that’s a moon of sorts,” Marshman said.

  “Tucker, Einstein theorized that wormholes weren’t a portal to another galaxy, but rather,” Sam said, “to another time.”

  “Time travel?” Tucker chuckled. “Another time?”

  Marshman said, “You commented that we didn’t know for sure that the Noah was habitable.”

  “We don’t,” Tucker said.

  “We do.” Marshman pointed to the screen. “It is.” Another planet appeared on the screen. “We know for sure it’s habitable. This isn’t another galaxy or universe, and that isn’t some planet we named Earth Two. It’s the future; we don’t know when or how far, but we do know that…is Earth.”

  It was a lot to take in.

  Tucker retreated to his quarters with copies of the images. He stared at them, analyzing them closely. Wondering if they were right, that it was Earth. They were blurry and pixelized.

  He thought of his conversation with Sam right after the control room meeting.

  Sam’s words burned in his mind. “Our geo guy looked at these. They look similar, but they aren’t. Each time we sent NAT through, the earth changed.”

  “He can’t be sure. I mean they are still really blurry,” Tucker said.

  “True. But I’m guessing he’s right.”

  Sam pointed out what he had been told, the shift of the continents and oceans.

  “If he is right,” Tucker said, “and you’re right, then there’s no guarantee when we’ll end up.”

  “Nope. We just have to hope it’s long enough after Planet X locks into rotation that things are settled and the disasters have stopped.”

  To Tucker it just seemed to be science fiction. Time travel wasn’t really possible and if it was, would they have the ability to physically hold proof of the future by way of shoddy probe images?

  Do the passengers know? Tucker wondered.

  Marshman told him they didn’t and there was no reason to tell them until they landed.

  Whatever time they arrived, as long as it was safer than what they faced now, they were getting what they paid for: a chance at a longer life.

  Tucker still didn’t know much about the mission. He hadn’t met the families or even knew anything about them, the only crew member he’d met was Sam.

  Tucker hadn’t even found out what his role was specifically.

  He guessed he would in the days to come. He knew they were leaving soon and wanted to focus on something, because any idle time meant time he spent wrestling with a moral dilemma.

  They had the knowledge, near proof that they weren’t going to another planet, but rather another time, and they didn’t share that with anyone.

  Genesis was going in lacking vital information.

  Part of a commander’s job is to be educated and know everything there is to know so he or she can plan on possible outcomes.

  Or maybe they did know and just weren’t sharing it with Marshman.

  The only way for Tucker to find out was to reach out to Quinn, the commander of the Genesis.

  Unfortunately, there was no way to do that. All that Tucker could do was learn his job, get ready for the mission, and possibly convince Marshman to share the information.

  After all, it wasn’t a competition. It was a race to space, it was an attempt to save the human race, even just the tiniest fraction.

  They all shared a common goal, they needed to share information as well.

  SEVEN

  Paradise, Wv

  Quinn had just settled in for the evening when he was summonsed to speak to Waites. He welcomed the diversion as he was certain he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all. Quinn, like everyone else on board the Genesis, had been assigned a procreation partner. Something every single one of them had to agree to.

  A partner for life, to create life on the new Earth.

  Quinn was all for it, until he met his chosen partner; he had no say in the matter. Scientific means of compatibility put them together and Quinn was certain the science was off.

  Her name was Dana and she wasn’t very nice. Quinn was never one to care about looks, after all, looks fade, personalities didn’t.

  He hoped hers would one day.

  She was attractive, but tough. She came across as crass, edgy, and probably could beat any man Quinn knew in an arm-wrestling match. Not that her arms were big, he just happened to see her lift a case with ease.

  Dana was a systems analysist on board. She also had a lot of responsibility with the cargo. Quinn wanted to meet her, introduce himself, maybe even get a chuckle with her about the ‘arranged relationship’ but she wasn’t having it.

  In fact…

  “What do you want, Commandeer Quinn?”

  “Well, you’re not busy,” Quinn said. “I thought I would get to know you.”

  “You don’t think we’ll have time for that when we land? Trust me, we’ll have time for that.”

  “Are you misunderstanding me?” Quinn asked. “Maybe you got the wrong idea.”

  “I don’t think so. I’m your procreation partner.”

  “No, no.” Quinn nervously waved his hand out. “I wasn’t here to bring that up, well, I was, but not in the way I believe you’re thinking.”

  “There’s no other way to think. I am your life partner for bearing children. I don’t need to be your friend.”

  “I kind of think that might help,” Quinn said.

  Dana shook her head. “It won’t, because I don’t care.”

  “If you didn’t want to do this, why are you?” Quinn asked.

  “I want to go up there.” She pointed up. “I have since I was a little girl.”

  “We all have.”

  “I’ll do what I need to do to make it happen. I also feel I spoke for a lot of women when I said, ‘I don’t have to like it to know my responsibility lies with starting the human race up there.’”

  “I’m sure a lot of men aren’t happy about it either.”

  Dana laughed and walked away.

  “Okay…” Quinn stood by himself for a moment, baffled at her attitude. He supposed he’d question all night long if the rest of his personal life on the new planet was going to be a miserable existence.

  That was when he was called to meet Waites.

  Strangely he wasn’t called to the control room, or Waites’s office. He met him in the cafeteria.

  It was closed and empty, the only lights on were those on the vending machine and the small round ones above the serving line.

  “What’s going on?” Quinn asked.

  Waites sat at a table alone, a folder next to a bowl of cereal. “Sit down, Quinn.”

  Quinn slid down across from him.

  “You’re right. Or were right,” Waites said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “About Tucker Freeman. You’re right, it is a mistake that he is not on this mission.”

  With an exhale of relief, Quinn sat back. “Does this mean he’s in?”

  “I’ve made call after call these last couple days,” Waites said. “I finally got the program to see the light on Freeman. That he is essential to the startup there. He’s needed in more ways than one.”

  “That’s what I was saying. They made a grave error rejecting him.”

/>   “They understand that, saw the error of their ways. One of their big arguments was that he wouldn’t have a pairing. He would be the odd man out, so to speak.”

  “Oh, hell, he can have mine. I can spend the rest of my life alone. Trust me, I met her.”

  Waites let out a chuckle. “Well, unfortunately…we reached out to Freeman. No answer. In fact, his phone went straight to voice mail. But we weren’t giving up.”

  “Weren’t?” Quinn asked. “As if you have?’

  “We have no choice. We went to the farm. All the workers on the ARC know him. They told us he was leaving. We did a little more digging.” Waites pushed the folder to Quinn.

  Quinn apprehensively opened it and read. His eyes shifted back and forth. “Are you kidding me?”

  “All there.”

  “He’s been picked up for a privately funded colony ship.”

  “Yes.”

  “You have to stop him,” Quinn said. “You know and I know, every expert is saying those private ships aren’t built to withstand the Androski.”

  “This one may,” Waites said.

  “You mean to tell me the genius who could keep the world alive, one of the smartest men on the planet, will float out into space on a private ship that will more than likely crumble in the wormhole.”

  “We hope not. Just wanted to let you know. We’re gonna keep trying though,” Waites said. “We will find him and talk to him.”

  “I can’t blame you. But this shouldn’t be a situation. Tucker Freeman should have been a given.” He pushed the folder back to Waites.

  It was frustrating. Quinn hoped they would be able to convince Tucker to join Genesis. If not, he could only hope that all would go well and he’d meet up with Tucker on the new planet.

  EIGHT

  Siberia

  There was an old saying, ‘If you want something done right, you do it yourself.’

  It was one carried through generations, and one Quinn subscribed to.

  When the location of Tucker Freeman was discovered and they realized it was out of range of normal communications, Quinn didn’t trust any official from NASA to convince Tucker to join Genesis. He had to be the one. He was commander of the mission, and he hoped that when Tucker met him, he not only would be impressed at the efforts made but accepting of the apology for the error.

  Of course, Quinn had no idea what exactly traveling to Siberia entailed.

  It took days and a recent rash of hurricanes didn’t help. He was glad he dressed appropriately. In his lifetime, Siberia was always cold. Not in a perpetual state of spring like it was now.

  He had never met Tucker Freeman. The only pictures he’d seen of the guy were when he was young and accepting awards. All dressed up in a suit that looked a little big.

  Quinn knew Tucker was a man that came from modest means. He had heard stories about him, how he looked like the kind of country boy one would see wearing a backwards baseball cap, faded Levi jeans, a rock and roll tee-shirt from decades earlier, driving to the race car track and spitting chew into an empty beer bottle.

  Quinn always thought that was an exaggeration until he arrived at the secret Siberian base. He was greeted by a man named Marshman who led him to a hanger. Marshman pointed to a solar buggy. The man behind the wheel was Asian and wearing what looked like an astronaut jumpsuit. Leaning over the front end of the buggy, wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, was the man Quinn assumed was Tucker.

  He was everything everyone described with the exception of the beer bottle spittoon.

  “Try it now,” the man with the thick country accent told the driver.

  The driver started the buggy. “You did it. How is that possible when I’m the mechanical genius?”

  “You didn’t design this. It was too simple. Got a wire loose, that’s all.”

  “He,” Marshman said, “is Tucker and the man you’re looking for.”

  “Fixing solar buggies?” Quinn asked.

  “Everyone is hands on here,” Marshman said. “We don’t have crews to change a bolt or screw in a lightbulb.”

  “I see that. So, I assume people aren’t on vacation.”

  “Hardly.” He led Quinn closer and called out, “Tucker, you have a visitor.”

  “I have a visitor in a top-secret facility way up in the middle of yonder?” Tucker looked over. “Holy Cow. I’ll be. Look, Sam, it’s Commander Joshua Quinn of the Genesis Project.”

  “Get the hell out of here,” Sam replied.

  “No joke. I know them all by sight.” Tucker wiped off his hands, stuffed the towel in the back pocket of his jeans and walked hand extended to Quinn. “Sir, how are you?”

  “Mr. Freeman, it is an honor to meet you,” Quinn said.

  “Please, call me Tucker. The honor’s mine. Wow. You came all the way here…Aren’t you supposed to be training to go in a couple weeks?”

  “I’ve been training for years,” Quinn replied. “This is part of my mission.”

  “I don’t understand,” Tucker said.

  “Is there somewhere we can sit down and talk?” Quinn asked.

  “Sure,” Tucker answered.

  Sam interjected, “Is it something that’s confidential, because I’m curious as to why you came all the way up here from Paradise, West Virginia, and if I wait to hear from Tucker, I’m sure I’ll get the short commercial version.”

  “It’s up to Tucker,” Quinn said.

  “Well, considering I haven’t a clue what you want, Sam can come. So can Mr. Marshman if he wants.”

  Marshman held up his hand. “I don’t need to be there. I already know what he’s here for.”

  “Oh, okay, well,” Tucker said. “Sam and I will join you. Since this is a sit-down talk, let’s go to the dining hall. I’m hungry, I can go for peanut butter sandwich. Sam?”

  “I’ll pass on the peanut butter and jam sandwich,” Sam said. “I’ll grab something else.”

  Tucker laughed. “Jam? Not jam. Jelly. Has to be jelly.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Oh, and they call me uncultured country.” Tucker shook his head with a smile and led the way.

  Instantly, Quinn liked him. With Tucker’s brains and personality he just couldn’t figure out why he was rejected in the first place.

  Tucker wasn’t joking about the peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The perfectly crafted sandwich, one he made himself, sat on a plate cut diagonally. Perched to the right of the plate was a tall glass of milk.

  “You sure I can’t make you one?” Tucker asked.

  Quinn waved his hand. “Maybe later.”

  He took a drink of his milk and placed the glass down with a post-drink refreshing exhale. “Man, that’s good. Still trying to figure out a way to get a cow on the ship.”

  Quinn laughed.

  Sam shook his head. “He’s not joking.”

  “Maybe a calf,” Tucker said. “Can we get a calf? We’re gonna need milk for the babies. Especially since the genesis is planning to pop them out.”

  “I told you before,” Sam said, “there isn’t enough time to put a chamber on the ship. Get used to the powder stuff.”

  “Well I won’t like it.” Tucker took a bite of his sandwich and washed it down. “What can I do for you, Mr. Quinn?”

  “Tucker.” Quinn folded his hands on the table and leaned forward. “On behalf of the United States government and NASA, I would like to extend our deepest regrets and apologies for not selecting you for the Genesis. It was unfair and I think that your rejection was purely political. Having you on Earth gives people nice feelings.’

  “That’s nice. But did you have something to do with the decision for me not to go?” Tucker asked.

  “No.”

  “So why are you apologizing?”

  “I wanted to be the one.”

  Tucker whistled. “Wow, you came all the way here to apologize. That was really nice. Not necessary…then again you can’t call here.”

  “No, Tucker, I came all the way here
with hopes to get you to grab your stuff, come with me, and be part of the Genesis.”

  “Really?” Tucker asked.

  “Yes,” Quinn answered.

  “Question,” Sam said. “All of you on the Genesis are paired off with procreation partners, how’s that going to work for him?”

  “I will give him mine.”

  Tucker laughed. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re giving her up awfully fast.”

  “Okay, she’s not nice.”

  “And you’re stuck with her. I’m sure she’s probably sore she’s stuck with you and she’s actually a nice person.”

  “What’s wrong with me?” Quinn asked.

  “Nothing that I know of.” Tucker shrugged. “Maybe you aren’t her type.”

  “Okay, okay. Obviously, a procreation partner isn’t important to you,” said Quinn. “So, can I take it you’ll come back with me?”

  Tucker groaned out and sat back. “I feel really bad.”

  “Why?” Quinn asked.

  “You came all the way here and I am gonna have to say thank you and wow, how cool, but I also have to say no.”

  “Tucker, please, give this some thought. I am here until tomorrow morning. Think about it tonight. Sleep on it. Don’t just say no right away,” Quinn said. “This is a huge opportunity. They made a massive mistake when they didn’t select you. I told them that. Hell, when I saw the manifest I got mad and was shocked not to see your name. But you are needed.”

  “I am needed on this one. I already made a commitment to folks that wanted me on the mission from the get-go. They even gave me a title: Agricultural Geoengineer. It’s a new thing. They made it for me. And they’re pretty nice.”

  “Tucker,” Sam said, “if you want to do this, please don’t feel bad. This is something you dreamed of your entire adult life. Maybe you should take time to think about it.”

  “No, Sam, there is really nothing to think about,” Tucker said. “Honest, this is where I stay.”

  “Tucker,” Quinn spoke up, “you are a brilliant man. You have to realize the odds of success on these private missions are going to be slim. Most of these ships will crumble when they go through the Androski.”