Best Intentions

Captain Doyle attached a small magnetic cover plate to the steel patch in the hull and the tiny thermite probe burned through the metal. He made a sign that indicated zero pressure and temperature on the other side. Putting the probe back into his rucksack, he removed his plasma torch and started cutting their entrance. The intense but nearly invisible blue beam sliced into the alloy plate and cut a one and one-half meter sized circle. The men pulled the thick plug of metal out of the hull and entered the dark chamber.

Pulling the rough circle back into place behind him the captain slapped on four of the experimental molecular adhesive patches to hold it in place. Giving a thumbs-up to the others to signal that he was done, the trio moved on, using their goggles to find their way.

Watching on the ship’s monitors Mark said, “CJ, these guys are good! They really know what they’re doing. Coming in through the damaged area was a brilliant idea.”

“Are you not concerned, Mark? They may be here to injure you since nothing they possess has the potential to damage the vessel’s systems.”

“Sorry, CJ. I know that I shouldn’t take this lightly. You have to admit they have performed well considering the circumstances. With you to protect me I don’t think I have much reason to worry, but better safe than sorry I guess. Seal the doors to the command center and install some of the disruptors outside the doors. If they reach this far you will be able to knock them out.”

“Affirmative, Mark,” CJ replied and the twin doors slid shut. “But should we not intercept these men while they are far away from the command center and you?”

“I’m curious to find out if they know how to get around the ship, CJ. I trust that you can stop them before they harm me.”

“Affirmative, the disruptors will be installed within ten minutes. What would you like me to do with them after they are incapacitated?”

“Restrain them without hurting them and bring them into the command center. I’d like to have a word with them, though I bet getting them to talk won’t be easy.”

CJ projected a light enhanced image of the cavernous interior of the damaged module that they had entered. Mark watched as they pushed off and floated through the remains of wrecked equipment, unerringly heading to the main airlock that led further into the vessel.

They attached some small device to the electronic panel beside the door. Unrolling a large dull metallic colored tarp the men covered themselves, the hatch and their equipment with it. The material seemed to adhere to the bulkhead and floor.

Mark couldn’t see what they were doing, but soon the material puffed up, becoming rigid with atmosphere.

“CJ, what’s causing that? Let me have a look at the other side of that hatch please.”

“Sensors detect the presence of atmosphere being released into that enclosure. I cannot provide a view inside the maintenance lock. I will switch the view to the internal corridor.”

The view jumped to the lighted interior corridor. Mark waited several minutes until the hatch was forced open from the inside. The trio exited by swinging down from the doorframe into the active gravity field. He could see their discarded vacuum gear floating inside the zero gravity of the lock and all they now wore were white form-fitting body suits they must have had on beneath the spacesuits. These covered them from head to toe and mimicked the matte-white color of the walls. The ships indirect lighting cast no shadows and when they stood still it was difficult to see them against the featureless walls unless you knew exactly where to look. One of them reached inside and removed an electronic device from the bulkhead. Something they had used to override the locking mechanism Mark guessed. They then forced the lock closed by hand.

Mark sat back in his chair and watched the action. “Looks like a good spy drama,” Mark thought watching the three men.

The supposed leader consulted a map of some sort attached to his sleeve while the other two kept watch on both directions of the corridor.

A decision was reached and with a gesture, the men set off in the chosen direction at a run.

During all this time they had not made the slightest sound.

“Mark, that device has overridden the portal controls. Electronic impulses that should have indicated the opening of the lock were not transmitted. The material comprising the suits also masks body heat to within two degrees of the corridor temperature. Had I not detected the craft, they would have boarded and remained undetected.”

“CJ, those men appear to know where they’re going. Can you get a picture of that diagram on the leader’s wrist?”

“Affirmative,” CJ replied and an enlargement appeared to the right of the action on the screen. It was a diagram of module personnel corridors.

“Now where could they have gotten that from?” Mark thought.

“How far from the command deck are they now?” Mark asked, watching them enter a maintenance tube and begin to ascend.

“Five decks down and one thousand two hundred meters distant on the port side, Mark. Installation is nearly complete on the synapse disrupters.”

“Thank you, CJ.” Mark kept watch on the team’s movement through the vessel on the main screen. They were approaching with impressive speed. A simple diagram in the lower left hand corner of the bridge display showed them as a single dot moving toward the command center. Mark saw the meters ticking off like a countdown. The fact that it could have been registering his life expectancy gave him pause. He watched the men duck into side passages any time a service machine passed by, but they always continued heading straight for the target which is how this incident made him think of himself.

“They’re heading right for the command center, CJ. Somehow, I don’t think much guesswork chose their route. The leader only referred to that map once, so they know exactly where I should be and how to get here. But where the heck did they get that information? I don’t remember giving away information about your interior layout.”

In far too short a time to believe the trio approached the command center doors. They again attached the electronic device and switched it on. Above them, the stun beams activated.

“Mark, the material of those suits is able to block the beam’s effectiveness. The power setting will have to be increased, possibly to a dangerous level if it is to be effective.”

Outside the doors, the men seemed to be moving slower. Not seeming to realize they were in the neural field, they continued working with single-minded purpose. The lights on their device lit up one after another as it overrode the locking mechanism.

“Ok, CJ, increase power on the disruptors. Not too fast though, I still don’t want them hurt if it can be avoided. They have information that I need.”

“Affirmative; increasing neural disruptor power in five percent increments. Five percent, ten percent increase, fifteen percent, twenty percent.”

The men outside had just started to pull the heavy doors apart. They staggered and finally fell as the power level reached thirty-five percent above normal operating levels.

CJ opened the doors the rest of the way to reveal the three crumpled figures on the deck.

“Wow, that was close, CJ,” Mark said looking over the fallen figures. “Remind me to take your advice next time this happens. Let’s get some restraints on their hands and feet while they are out.”

“Maintenance drones are on the way with the binders, Mark, but they should be unconscious for approximately one half hour.”

“Somehow I doubt it,” he said looking at them. “Please have the drones hurry, CJ.”

“I will conduct an analysis of the material that makes up the suits. Information on how they were able to resist the effects of the synapse disrupters may be important.”

“Good idea, CJ. Can you also retrieve their ship?”

“Affirmative, Mark. I have the vessel in a tow beam. It will be placed into the small craft bay in module zero six-seven.”

Six small robots approached the command center and wrapped the hands and feet of the three men with what looked like soft gray cord with square metallic end-caps. They then connected the ends and applied a small electric charge. The current caused the material to take on a mirror finish while becoming as stiff as steel. At the core of each band, a superconducting wire kept the charge flowing through the loop.

The machines used manipulators to search for weapons, removing a surprising quantity of deadly material in the form of non-metallic knives and other throwing weapons as well as assorted small electronic devices. They were directed to lift and deposit the men in three of the console seats, removing the balaclava from heads so Mark could see their faces. He sat back and waited for them to regain consciousness.

“CJ, can you identify these men by using some kind of facial recognition software? I would search the U.S. military and government databases first. Somehow I think this was a homegrown operation and President Stone sent them to us. I’m sure any security you run into on their systems should not pose much of a problem.”

“I will perform a comprehensive search, Mark. I should be able to identify them before they awaken.”

According to CJ’s estimate it should have been about twenty-five more minutes until they came to. Mark wasn’t surprised when it took less than ten.

The three operatives came to at the same moment, blinking and looking around before their eyes focused on Mark. He could see the muscles in their arms tense as they applied pressure this way and that, testing the bonds.

“Don’t bother trying. It would take much more than human strength to break that material,” Mark said with confidence as he had seen the strength of the material that held them. “Your trouble-making days aboard this ship are over gentlemen. Now it’s time to talk.”

“They should not be able to do much with their hands and feet bound,” he thought, but decided to keep his distance from them just in case.

Mark had had their hands bound in front of them so they could sit in relative comfort in the bridge chairs though they were a tight fit.

“Well, I have to tell you that you made a good try of it,” Mark said getting up from his chair. “But as they say in your line of work, close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. Did you three think you could sneak aboard a ship with a sentient computer controlling it without being detected? What is the purpose of this visit, to kill me?”

They sat in stony silence just glaring in Mark’s direction but not saying anything at all.

“Well, don’t you guys have anything to say? How about name, rank and serial number, don’t I even get that?”

Mark could tell from their expressions that he would have a long wait before getting anything from these men. They had obviously been hand picked for this mission so they were some of the best operatives anywhere. He took his seat again.

The leader decided to speak. “We’re not in the military, we’re just mercenaries.”

“Oh yeah, sure, and I guess you found a stealth ship and those masking suits in a box of Cracker Jacks.”

“All of our equipment was supplied to us by our employer,” the leader said keeping a straight face.

“Who exactly is your employer?” Mark asked sarcastically. “Some Saudi billionaire I’ll bet.”

“How did you guess?” the leader said without much conviction.

“Hey CJ, I think we have three hard cases here. They don’t want to tell me anything, or at least the truth about themselves. What do you think we should do with them?”

CJ seemed to understand Mark’s act and went along. “Mark, if they will not speak maybe they should be returned to outer space. Why allow them to breathe up my oxygen supply if they will not cooperate?”

“You make a good point, CJ,” Mark replied, gratified to see at least a trace of alarm on their faces. “But I have a better idea. If they won’t talk, they can just listen while you tell me whom they are. Maybe they’ll be more cooperative once they realize there are no secrets they possess that you cannot uncover.”

“Certainly, Mark. The large human on the left is Major Thaddeus “T-Rex” Cross: thirty-eight years old, born in Newark, New Jersey. He left college after two years to join the marines. Requested transfer to seal training and graduated from buds lass number two six two at the head of his class. Recruited by the Central Intelligence Agency five years later after an impressive list of classified missions. Would you like a list of the missions in which he participated?”

“That won’t be necessary, CJ. I’m sure there are more than a few of them and he was successful most if not all of the time. Please continue.”

“In the center seat is Captain David Doyle: twenty-nine years old, born in Kansas City, Missouri. The captain graduated with a degree in nuclear physics from Berkley University in California. Joined the navy and was assigned to duty aboard the Ohio-class nuclear submarine USS West Virginia – SSBN-736. He requested transfer to seal training and graduated from buds class number three seven seven, also at the head of his class. He was recruited by the Central Intelligence Agency immediately upon graduation according to the records.”

“What about our third contestant, CJ?”

“Lieutenant Samuel Hasset on the right is twenty-four years old, born in Chicago, Illinois. A prodigy, he was one of the youngest graduates ever of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology with a doctorate in astrophysics and a PhD in quantum physics. Joined the marines and entered seal training immediately after finishing basic training. He graduated from buds class number four zero two, second in his class. The lieutenant was recruited by the National Security Agency immediately following graduation. Currently on detached duty, though records show that all three of these men have been dishonorably discharged from the service of the United States military.”

“Thank you, CJ, that was a comprehensive report,” Mark said looking at the stony faces before him. “What have you found out about their mission here?”

“No information within the CIA or NSA databases exists regarding the mission. However, the personal computer files of General Steven Pell, the launch commander at Vandenberg Air Force Base had a memo regarding an operation named “cold shower” and his opposition to it. No details are present, but by the date the memo was recorded it relates to the current operation in which these men are engaged.”

“‘Cold shower’, not an impressive name, but I tend to agree with you, CJ,” Mark said looking at the men in front of him again. “So, do you have anything to say now, gentlemen? You may as well speak up. You have been under observation ever since you reached orbit by piggybacking on that satellite launch from Vandenberg.”

Mark was bluffing, but it seemed like a safe bet that this operation originated from that launch facility.

It was the major who spoke first. “We weren’t sent to kill you,” he said simply.

“Well, that makes me feel so much better,” Mark said back with a healthy dose of sarcasm. “Let me guess, you just wanted to make me see reason and turn this ship over to the government? Please, let me know if I’m getting warm.”

“Yes, that was the idea,” the major replied. Gesturing around him with his bound arms he continued. “Do you have any idea how nervous you make people by sitting up here in your orbiting fortress while dictating terms to the President of the United States?”

“By ‘people’ you obviously mean the president,” Mark said. “Have we done anything to suggest we want more than to help all the inhabitants of the world? Oh, wait a minute. I guess that’s the problem. They don’t want the rest of the world to benefit from CJ’s help, isn’t that right? President Stone and his evil henchman Vice President Foster believe they know what is best and think they should be in control of CJ and his technology.”

“What makes you think you are qualified to be in charge of all this power?” Lieutenant Hasset asked. “There’s too much chance for abuse. The government should have control.”

“You wouldn’t know this, but I tried to get the president’s help back in the beginning. I even went to the White House to meet with experts on the environment. Can you guess how that went? They lied to me and brought in weapons specialists instead! The vice president even threatened to arrest me. That experience showed me that trust must be earned. So, qualified or not, the responsibility for this ship and technology is mine. Giving any one country so much advanced technology, even the United States, is just too dangerous. I’ve been trying to do what is best for the whole world, not just any one country. I’m trying to get everyone to realize that this world could be a paradise if they just learn to live together in peace and cooperation.”

“Dangerous? Dangerous to whom, Mr. Richards?” asked Major Cross. “You don’t think it is more dangerous for one man to wield all this power?”

“I’m not about to change my mind after a stunt like this, major. None of you seem to get it; I’m not doing all this by myself. CJ is much smarter than the entire government plus you and I combined.”

“We don’t make policy, Mr. Richards. We just follow our orders.” The major said. “We have nothing against you personally, I hope that you understand.”

“I understand, but since your orders involved me I can’t help but take it personally. I do admire the skills you’ve shown and it took balls to let yourselves be launched into space in that little tin-can.”

“We were just doing our job, Mr. Richards.”

“CJ, have you examined their ship?”

“Affirmative, Mark. The stealth technology is impressive. However, I can perceive of no way for it to have reentered the earth’s atmosphere.”

“So you guys had no way to get back to Earth if you weren’t able to board this ship. Not only would your mission have failed, but you would have died in orbit and no one would ever have known about it. I don’t think the president would have announced that you all died as heroes. That goes beyond just doing your job, major. I doubt many would be willing to take that kind of chance. However, that does not excuse an attack on me. Your boss has to realize that control of this technology stays with me. CJ will not cooperate with them if something unfortunate was to happen to me. Maybe when people have matured enough to handle it I will change my mind.”

“Ok, Mr. Richards. We accept that our mission is a failure. I don’t know what you plan to do with us, but first I need to use the bathroom, is that possible?”

“Sure, Major Cross. I wouldn’t want my guests to be uncomfortable. There is a bathroom right back there,” Mark answered, pointing toward the back wall.

“I’ll need at least my feet unbound, that is unless you want to have these machines carry me.”

Mark gave him a suspicious look for a moment. “I’m not an unreasonable man, so you can walk under your own power. You’ll have to make do with your arm restraints on though.”

“CJ, please have the major’s leg restraints removed.”

One of the machines drained the electrical current and the leg binders reverted to their original flexible state. After the band was removed, the major stood and walked towards the door Mark indicated, escorted by two of the drones.

Without warning he lunged towards the command chair bringing his bound hands down in a lightning strike toward Mark’s head. Mark involuntarily flinched, but it was the major who was surprised when he passed through the holographic image and sprawled across the empty chair.

Looking down at the major, the hologram of Mark shook its head and said, “You have a one track mind. It’s too bad, I could use men like you on my side instead of working against me.”

“Well CJ, it looks like we’re not getting through to these guys and I think it’s time that they left. Goodbye, major.”

The neural disruptors fired again, but without the protective headgear the trio was rendered unconscious instantly. Mark walked out onto the command deck from the other compartment.

“These holograms of yours sure look real, CJ. These men were completely fooled.”

Looking down at the unconscious form of Major Cross, Mark shook his head again.

“CJ, I think we need to send a message to the president,” Mark said as he examined some of the throwing weapons the men had carried. “I want him to know that every action has a consequence.”

****

President Stone, in a meeting with the Secretary of State in his office, was shocked. Chief of Staff Henry Scott knocked once on his door then barged in without waiting for an invitation. Something he had never done before.

“Mr. President, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but we have a situation that you need to be made aware of,” he said looking back over his shoulder. “Actually, I think you need to see this for yourself. Could you come outside, please?”

“Where Henry? I’m in a meeting right now. Isn’t this something that you can handle? If not, can’t it wait until we are done here?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. President, but I don’t think so. It’s on the lawn out back, sir.”

The president and Secretary of State followed Henry out of the office, down the hall and as they approached the doors Secret Service men entered. They closed the doors and approached the trio.

“Mr. President,” said Dan Chase. “You should not be involved. This is a security matter. Please let us handle it.”

“Please step aside, Dan. I’d like to go outside. I believe that I am still the president around here.”

“Yes sir, Mr. President,” Agent Chase replied, stepping out of the way.

Walking outside the south entrance to the building the men came to an abrupt halt. Their jaws dropped as they looked out over the scene.

The president had been shown pictures of the experimental craft but not like this.

The stealth interceptor was on the White House lawn, sticking nose down into the ground like an oversized lawn dart in front of the building.

Three men dressed in white bodysuits lay on the lawn surrounded by secret service personnel. They had weapons drawn and were looking all around.

Mark’s voice came out of thin air. “Mr. President, I believe that these men and the ship belong to you. I’m here to return them.”

A hologram of Mark appeared; standing right behind President Stone. Secret Service Agents closed in and pushed between the president and the perceived threat.

The president turned around to face him as a pair of the agents tried to grab Mark but got nothing but handfuls of air for their trouble.

Mark’s image looked at them with contempt. “You guys are all the same. Just like those guys over there,” he said gesturing with his chin at the unconscious men. “You are all brawn and no brains.”

The president waved off the other security personnel who were approaching them. “Mr. Richards, what is the meaning of this? This is the White House, you can’t just…”

Looking over at the president, Mark interrupted him. “Mr. President, I believe, no, let’s not mince words. I know that you sent these men to my ship. Whether you meant for them to kill me or you had something else in mind, your little operation ‘Cold Shower’ was ill advised. I’d think long and hard about trying anything like that again. I don’t like uninvited guests and judging by the reaction of the Secret Service here, you don’t appreciate them either.”

“Mr. Richards,” the president said. “I have no idea what this is about.”

Mark ignored his lie and continued. “I considered flushing them out into space and I think they expected it, but that isn’t the way I choose to operate. CJ even said that the stealth technology in the ship and the suits was impressive, high praise indeed from him. You just have to realize that you’re still amateurs compared to his tech.”

“I can’t let on just how close it was,” Mark thought. “If they knew it was just a fluke that CJ detected their ship, they might try more of these stunts.”

“Beautiful clear sky, isn’t it Mr. President? Though you know, there just may be a storm brewing on the horizon.” Mark said pointing up over the White House.

“What are you talking about, Mr. Richards,” the president said looking at the clear blue sky. “There isn’t a chance of a storm coming up.”

“Are you sure Mr. President?” Mark asked with a smirk. “Maybe you should take another look.”

One of the ship’s giant modules shimmered into existence above the White House, appearing from nowhere. The camouflage had been that perfect. The 300-meter geometric shape hovering overhead in complete silence dwarfed the building beneath it and cast a literal shadow over the proceedings.

Mark had appeared behind the president so everyone would turn towards him. They would then be facing the White House when the module dropped its screens. He had even contemplated bringing the entire ship down. Much as he would have loved the pure shock value, Mark realized the sight of nearly one hundred million tons of metal hanging over Washington could have caused mass panic.

Just one module was impressive enough he decided. Seeing pictures or video images of them, even to know its dimensions was one thing. But you just couldn’t appreciate the sheer size unless it was just overhead.

Looking up, the president’s jaw dropped once again and he swallowed hard before trying to speak.

Mark spoke first. “Stealth is a wonderful tool isn’t it? It works for both of us but mine is better. Look, Mr. President, I thought we had come to an understanding and then you pull a stunt like this. You’re lucky I’m not a vindictive man or you might just find some of the city’s monuments floating in orbit, or possibly sitting on the Moon.”

“Don’t threaten me, Mr. Richards. You backed us into a corner. Your own actions drove us to attempt this.”

The president chose not to say anything about the construction detected on the asteroid Pallas, not wanting to reveal everything he knew.

“I like the way you say ‘we’, as if you are not responsible for the actions of the government. Do you govern by committee now?”

“My decisions are final, Mr. Richards. I take full responsibility for the actions taken by these men.”

“Well that’s something, President Stone. I’m sorry you feel that you cannot cooperate with me, but you might try speaking to me about your concerns before going to these extremes.”

“Mr. Richards, the last time we spoke, you didn’t sound like someone who I could negotiate with. You just told me what you wanted me to do and expected me to do it!”

“It was you who forced the issue, Mr. President. Your government made an agreement and then decided not to honor it. Why should other nations live up to their obligations while you go on doing whatever you want?”

“Ok, Mr. Richards.” He looked over his shoulder at the scene behind them. “I understand your position and I can assure you nothing like this will happen again, at least under my administration.”

“Since your term is up that doesn’t mean much. Just remember to pass this information along to your successor. I’m not giving control of the technology over to you or anyone else. Hopefully you now realize that you cannot take it from me. This little stunt of yours tells me I cannot trust anyone but myself and CJ.”

“What are you planning to do now, Mr. Richards?”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything unpleasant, but since my words don’t mean much to you, here’s something for you to keep in mind when you contemplate your future actions.” Mark’s hologram pointed across the lawn and the president turned around.

The stealth interceptor was pulled out of the ground in a shower of earth and grass. Lifted high into the air by the module’s gravitational inducers it hung in place for a moment. There was a loud crunch as the ship was crushed down into a one-meter ball and then dropped back to earth with a thud.

“I’ll be in touch, Mr. President.” With that, Mark’s holographic image faded away.

The module shot straight up into the sky at incredible velocity. The tremendous sonic boom it left behind shattered half the windows in the White House and rattled the entire city. It dwindled to a pinpoint in moments before disappearing completely. The tinkling of falling glass was the only evidence it had been there. That and what remained on the lawn.

The president gestured at the three unconscious men and asked the Secret Service Agents. “Are those men alive?”

“Yes, Mr. President. They are just unconscious.”

“Well then, get them off the lawn and have that thing moved out of here before reporters show up and start taking pictures!” He pointed to the building. “Have maintenance get that mess cleaned up and fixed too.”

“Right away, Mr. President,” replied Agent Chase. They split into teams of two and carried the men into the White House.

The president was looking into the once again empty sky. He turned to his chief of staff and with his usual simplistic way of stating the obvious he said, “I think we may have made a mistake.”

“Well, like he said,” he thought. “My term is done. Let someone else deal with Mark Richards and his pet computer.”