The Cosmic Bullet: The Enigma Series, Part One

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The Cosmic Bullet:

  The Enigma Series, Part One

  Andrew C. Broderick

  Copyright 2017,

  all rights reserved

  Dedicated to you,

  the reader of

  independently published

  fiction

  CHAPTER ONE

  The air in the ancient office was hazy with floating dust and indefinable particulate. Drew stared, forlorn, at the photo set in pride of place on his desk—his wife and two children. Someone looking in on him would’ve seen a youngish man, his still youthful features offset by short-cropped black hair. An ordinary man like any other office worker in a cubicle; the only thing setting him apart was a gold earring in his left ear.

  It was the end of a long day. Drew had been there fourteen hours. Everyone he knew called him a workaholic, but Drew preferred “dedicated.” The ringing of his phone startled him, and he craned in to press the button to answer.

  “Drew, this is Josh Mandrake, calling from the Ring of Steel. I’m an analyst here and I want to let you know we have an unknown object traveling into the solar system at a high rate of speed. The objects’s about five billion miles out and it’s coming in at over 100 miles a second. Doesn't seem like a regular space rock. It's going way too fast, and it's shaped long and thin.”

  “Oh...” Drew trailed off, trying to wrap his frazzled mind around the information. “What's its closest approach to Earth?”

  “One astronomical unit.”

  “One AU?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I'll alert the Administrator.”

  ****

  The conference room was washed out and sterile, lit from overhead by strip lights. Men and women were gathered around the long conference table, with Drew and his close associate Achilles Tyler—an intimidatingly large man—on the left side of the room.

  Manfred Larson, the NASA Administrator, addressed the room. Behind him was a screen showing a fuzzy picture of the UFO.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the balding man began, “this may be nothing, or it may be the most important scientific discovery ever made. What we’re seeing is unnaturally elongated and thin, and incoming at a tremendous approach velocity.”

  “A hundred miles a second, right? That’s what they told me, anyway,” said Drew.

  “A hundred and one point five, to be exact.”

  The silence was palpable as the room of exhausted, stunned people absorbed the news.

  Achilles’ baritone was the first voice to break that silence. “What could possibly make a natural object travel that fast?”

  “Nothing I know of,” answered a woman on the other side of the table. She turned to Manfred. “Did the ROS people give you any further details?”

  “Unfortunately not.”

  “We don’t even know what it’s made of yet,” Drew said.

  “How big is it?” asked another tech from the back.

  “At least 3,000 feet long,” Manfred replied.

  Low whistles from more than one side of the room answered him.

  “Then we need to figure out what it is ASAP,” Drew said. “I propose a manned mission to check it out, and I want to be on it.” I have to be the first there at any cost, he thought.

  “I’ve considered that option,” Manfred said. “But there’ll be no manned mission—yet. We’re going to send an unmanned probe to reconnoitre first before we risk one of our ships and our people’s lives.”

  Drew hmphed. “I really think we need people on this …whatever it is…taking measurements. People who can make decisions on the spot.”

  “Look,” said Manfred, one hand up to forestall more interruptions from Drew. “I know how much you want to be there, but it’s not going to happen right now. That object could be emitting lethal amounts of radiation, it could be structurally unstable, or any one of a hundred other hazards you can imagine.”

  “Reminds me of some kind of speeding cosmic bullet,” somebody piped up from behind Drew. “Could be just as lethal, too.”

  Manfred nodded. “Guys, you’re the first responders on the scene of something potentially amazing. I need the best brains and equipment we have. I’m putting together a response team, and you’ll head it up. But it’s going to take at least a year before that UFO reaches the inner solar system, so time is on our side.”

  I have to be there, Drew thought, shoving nagging thoughts of his wife and children aside. I have to.

  ****

  Three months earlier

  Storm Kovacs felt like his life was hanging in the balance. In his thirties, he was an appreciably handsome, well-built man with short sandy-brown hair. He stood behind the table in a wood-paneled courtroom, looking up at the judge in her black robe of office. She was reading through the papers in the case. Above her was the California state seal. While the judge read, Storm glanced over at the Mexican woman opposite him. She was wearing a dress that looked a better fit for a vampire’s funeral than a hearing: all black lace and pure ugliness. She stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge him. He noted her fake eyelashes with distaste. He compared her man-mountain of a lawyer in his expensive black suit to his own—the man looked like he’d just crawled out of a burrow, decked out in a suit that had probably been hanging in a thrift store that morning.

  The judge looked up over the lip of her glasses and addressed the room. “This begins the final part of the child custody hearing concerning Anna Kovacs, age twelve. She is contested by her parents Storm and Bonita Kovacs. Now, I’ve had ample time to go over everything and weigh it all up. Mr. Kovacs, it is very evident how much you love your daughter, and how much that love is reciprocated, as Anna herself has attested. However, it is my conclusion that your living situation on the Moon provides less than adequate academic and social opportunities for her. In addition, your current income is too variable to properly support your daughter. Therefore, I must award custody to Mrs. Kovacs.”

  The crack of her gavel reverberated throughout the room. Storm’s mouth fell open as his mind raced. “No. You can’t!” he yelled at the small man next to him.

  “I’m afraid that’s the court’s decision, Storm,” his lawyer answered, hurriedly gathering his papers and stuffing them into his briefcase in an attempt to escape the awkward situation as quickly as possible.

  “But, you said…”

  His lawyer straightened and looked up at Storm, who stood a good six inches over the attorney. “I’m sorry, I know how hard this must be for you.”

  “No, you really don’t. I’m sorry I ever hired you.”

  Storm strode off through the aisle of the courtroom and shoved through the doors to the hall. Once he was far enough down the corridor he cursed repeatedly, drawing the attention of lingering police deputies.

  Back out in the sunny breeze of the afternoon, he stalked away from his parked SUV. Storm strode furiously off the courthouse premises and on down the road, past small taco shops and rambling houses, looking and feeling like he was ready to kill someone. He lost track of time as he burned with hatred for Bonita, trying to choke down how desperately he missed Anna.

  ****

  Present day

  Storm stood at the edge of the grimy white dome that was half the size of a football field, wearing dirty jeans and an old T-shirt. The area was full of the twisted hulks and formerly glowing hearts of dead s
pacecraft. Racks of electronics two stories high cramped the space. The walls bore testimony to many encounters with forklifts, scored and well patched, bearing space junk in their tines. The aisles between the stacks of material were mostly dark, thick with shadows cast from the harsh overhead lights. Storm scanned the jumbled space. This is my entire net worth, right here, he thought. Plus one battered spacecraft.

  In his right hand he held a large paper dart, and in his left a miniature plastic football. Business had been slow lately, so he’d found a new pastime. He raised his right arm and threw the dart towards the top of the dome. It arced only slightly under the Moon’s light gravity. He smiled as he watched it fly. Then he took the football into his right hand, his fingers instinctively finding the fake laces, and threw it in a line as straight as a laser beam. It smashed the paper dart into a flattened mess against the top of the dome. The football bounced into the forest of space junk, while the remains of the dart floated down lazily. Storm was satisfied with another successful interception.

  The grimy white door behind him opened and in stepped an ugly man with a thin, gaunt face, wearing a brown sweater. “You have to see this,” he said, in a thick Russian accent.

  “Why, what’s up?”

  “Is pretty fantastic; you just see it for yourself.”

  Drew stepped out into the soulless white corridor, and through a cheap wood-effect clapboard door into his well-lived-in office. One entire wall was a display panel. A news ticker at the bottom read: GIANT UFO SPOTTED AT EDGE OF SOLAR SYSTEM. Above that was a fuzzy picture of a long white object. An immaculately dressed woman in an inset box spoke from the bottom left corner of the screen. “The Ring of Steel array has confirmed that this as-yet-unidentified object is five billion miles from the sun, and traveling at over 100 miles a second. That report is confirmed by NASA. With me now is Achilles Tyler, Associate Director of Extrasolar Science. Achilles, what do we know so far?”

  The picture switched to Achilles’ large face, with its part Filipino complexion, framed by thick, black hair. “All we know so far is its size and speed. We estimate from this picture, taken from 35,000 miles away, that it’s over 3,000 feet long. It’s trajectory will take it with within one AU of our planet.”

  “Could you please explain what AU means for our viewers?”

  “AU stands for astronomical unit. One AU is the distance between the Earth and the Sun, roughly 93 million miles. So, the unidentified object, already known in scientific circles as the Enigma, will miss us by a long way.”

  “Will it hit the sun?”

  “No. Its course will be bent significantly by the sun’s massive gravity, and then it will continue on its path, eventually exiting out the other side of the Solar System.”

  “And how long will all of this take?”

  “Roughly one year to reach the inner solar system, and then another year and three months to travel back to about five billion miles out.”

  “Achilles, there’s rampant speculation that it could be an alien spaceship. What is NASA’s assessment?”

  “I’m afraid we can’t draw any conclusions at this stage. We need a lot more data to go on.”

  “Okay, thanks Achilles. We turn now to ENN’s science correspondent…”

  By that time, twenty-five year-old Desira had joined Storm and Dmitry. She ran a hand through her spiky, blonde hair. “Holy crap!”

  “Indeed,” Dmitry said.

  “More than twice as long as an aircraft carrier,” Storm said. “I bet Drew’s having the time of his life with this one.”

  “Possible alien spaceships…” Dmitry mused. “Odd that it came from out of nowhere and is aimed straight at the Sun.”

  “Well, if you count one AU closest approach as being aimed at the Sun…” Storm said.

  “Think about the odds,” Desira said. “It’s five billion miles out. It’s only going to miss by less than 1% of its present range.”

  Storm nodded. “Very true. And who knows how far it’s already travelled. From an interstellar distance it would be like firing a bullet at the Moon and hitting a three-inch target. For a mere space rock, the odds of it being random are astronomical.”

  “Heh,” Dmitry chuckled at the unintended pun.

  “I wonder how old it is,” Storm mused. “If it’s been going the same speed all the time and it came from another star … that’s tens of thousands of years. Anybody on board couldn’t still be alive.”

  “Unless it’s a self-contained colony ship,” Dmitry said.

  “True.”

  “I’d drill a hole in it as soon as look at it,” Desira said, thinking on what riches might lie there.

  “According to interstellar salvage law, nobody owns it,” Storm said. “Though, good luck catching it. It’s like a speeding bullet.”

  “It could contain untold amounts of precious metals or alien technology,” Dmitry said. “If there are living things on it, they could make or break humanity. And we’ll have to wait a year to find out.”

  “They’ll send a ship to investigate it long before then,” Storm said. “We may have an answer pretty quick. And I bet my brother will be the one giving it.”

  ****

  “Knock, knock,” Drew said, tapping on the dark-paneled wood of Manfred Larson’s door. Manfred looked up as Drew entered the plushly appointed office, backed by vertical blinds covering the one, rounded corner window.

  “Hello, Drew. Have a seat. What can I do for you?” he asked, already knowing the answer. The lack of proffered drink or other social niceties let Drew know exactly how he felt about what was coming.

  “So, about that manned mission…” Drew said as he sat in the guest chair in front of the large desk.

  “I haven’t changed my mind,” Manfred said. “I still think it’s too dangerous. I’ve consulted a number of our people, and they agree. We’re going to study it remotely for now.”

  Drew had been prepared for this response. “There’s another angle to this: I don’t doubt for one second that the Russians and Chinese are gearing up to go there, which means they could uncover its secrets first. If it is an alien ship, and if they get a hold of its technology, they end up with a strong technological lead on us.”

  Manfred chuckled as he relaxed, tipping his high-backed leather chair back. “I see that fire in your eyes again, Drew. Same one I first saw at Harvard. And occasionally here at NASA.” He smiled. “I’m glad it’s back, and with a vengeance. Seemed like it had gone out for a while. I know how driven you can be, how much you want to be first on the scene of a major discovery like this one. Hell, how disappointed you were when you went out to the Constantine and didn’t discover any major new form of life.” He sighed in resignation. “I’ll put you on the first mission to the Enigma, I promise. But let me make sure it’s safe first, will you?”

  “I’m not suggesting we dewarp right next to it. We can be 100,000 miles away and study it carefully without having to get in closer.” Lightning flickered outside under low storm clouds as rain washed down the windows.

  “You should’ve been a car salesman, Drew. And I mean that in the nicest possible way. But you’re going to have to wait. Besides, what about your wife and kids …?”

  Drew pursed his lips and remained silent.

  “Oh. Are things still hard between you and Elizabeth?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What about those kiddos? Long-distance space travel’s still dangerous at the best of times.”

  Drew nodded reluctantly, thinking. He didn’t look at Manfred as he got up and left the office. He still had one card left to play.

  ****

  Drew sat dripping, in his silver Cadillac; his umbrella ripped to shreds by the wind, the rain soaking his dreams of being the first to unwrap the mysteries of the Enigma. His trench coat hadn’t done much to keep the rain out, and his pants were soaked. Drew slicked water from his forehead. Time for his last gambit.

  He took out his tablet, wiping water drops that beaded on its surface with
fast food napkins from the glove box. He enabled its military-grade encryption mode, opened a new email, and typed in the address for his old friend Cliff Brentwood, now an intelligence analyst at the Pentagon.

  Cliff, I’m sure you guys are already working the national security angle on the Enigma, but I thought I should let you know my concerns just in case. Larson’s refusing to send a manned mission before an unmanned probe’s been dispatched. It worries me because if it is actually an alien ship and the Russians or Chinese get there first, they could not only claim ownership of it but mine it for secrets beyond our conception. That would then give them an unassailable technological lead over America, that we might never recover from. It’ll probably take the President to swing a manned mission. I urge you guys to give this serious thought.

  Best,

  Drew

  He pressed ‘send,’ and watched the flood running down the windshield.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Come on dude, really?” Drew said to Achilles as they sat side by side in the NASA spaceship Sigma’s crew compartment. He was pointing to small, round stickers that had proliferated in the ship’s sterile white interior. They said “Earth Last,” overlaid on an image of the planet that had a red diagonal bar through it. Around the edge were the words “BURN, BABY BURN.” Achilles grinned.

  “What, you have a problem with it?”

  Drew smiled and shrugged. “Not particularly. I know it’s a comedic organization. Other people might, though.”

  “That’s the whole point. I like to piss people off.”

  “That you do.”

  Large virtual windows on either side showed pure black while they were still in warp flight.

  “Two minutes until dewarp,” came Captain Chris Henderson’s voice from the cockpit.

  “I dunno about you, but I’m stoked beyond belief to see this thing up close,” Drew said, rubbing his fingers over damp palms.