Alpha Rising (19 page)

He crouched alongside and drew intersecting
lines over the circle—top to bottom—right to left. “You ran a good
race,” he whispered. Then he jumped up. “Star! The fuel!” Loping
through the sand like a track runner with Star at his heels, Bach
headed straight to the fuel chamber, lifted the flap, and noticed
the melted lock at the same time. He slammed the flap down, held
his head with one hand and snorted, “They got the fuel.”

She watched in silence.

“
What the heck’s going on?”
he yelped. A moment’s hesitation turned to floor pacing. “No, they
didn’t get our solid fuel, it’s here somewhere. Altemus couldn’t
configure the ship to carry it all at once. He must have hid
it!”

“
You mean we’ll have spare
fuel onboard?”

“
There was no other way.
Now where would he hide it?”

She looked around. “Try to think like he
would.”

“
Not possible!” he replied,
shaking his head.

Together they searched the cockpit, mid-ship
workstations, relaxation area, galley, privacy rooms, and
everything fore and aft, port and starboard, but found nothing.

Bach flopped on the cockpit bench seat,
glared at the profusion of gauges and pounded his fist on the
console. “Where is it?”

Star sat beside him “This mission was
arranged by the Creator, right?”

“
But I’ve looked
everywhere. And I don’t see the logbooks either.” He tapped his
fingers against his lips and eyed the cabin. Then he jumped up and
bolted to the rear exit. “‘Think like he would.’ I just figured it
out.”

Bach’s three-foot stride carried him to the
mound beside Faith’s where he dropped to his knees and dug deep
into the sandy pit. He freed a box and lifted the lid. “The solid
fuel!”

The bounty grew to five boxes of fuel, three
logbooks, wrist viewers with technical data involved in Alpha’s
restoration, copies of interplanetary journals, and a small wrapped
package.

Sprinting between the gravesite and the ship
he set the boxes and books outside the back ramp, yelling as he
ran, “Wish that robot wasn’t damaged, I could use him.”

Star relayed the items inside and stepped
back out. “How many more?”

He returned with his arms full. “Last ones.
Here, take this.” He handed her a box the size of a phone book
wrapped in white paper.

She shook the box side-to-side. Something
heavy shifted an inch or two, and something else slid with a clunk.
“It doesn’t sound like fuel.”

“
Open it.”

She unwrapped it on the way inside. “Faith’s
Bible … and an iridescent purple box.” She balanced the box in her
hand. “It’s heavy. Some kind of alloy.”

“
Looks like a big ring
box,” he said.

Her peek inside ended with a puzzled huff.
“Empty.” She shrugged and snapped it closed.

“
Can’t be.” Bach grabbed
the box. His hand dipped from the weight. “Wow, heavier than it
looks.” He opened it then looked around the floor. “Did something
fall out?”

“
No, it was
empty.”

He put the box in a drawer with the Bible.
“We’ll figure it out later.”

Star filled a storage hold with the extra
fuel while Bach took two boxes to the flight deck. Holding a mound
of briquettes against his body in one hand, he flipped open the lid
on the fuel shaft. Then he yelled, “We’ve been sabotaged! There’s
liquid in the chamber.”

Star checked the chamber then, strangely,
told Bach, “Put in the briquettes.”

He stared at her and again said, “There’s
liquid in the chamber.”

“
Try it,” she said, walking
away while giving the ship the once-over.

Bach tried to slide a briquette into the
slot, but it didn’t fit. He jammed it against the opening—turned it
over, around, and sideways, and even tried twisting, before trying
a second piece. “Star, they don’t fit,” he groused, “chamber’s too
small. And I know it won’t work with that stinkin’ brown stuff in
there. Why is this happening?”

She answered from aft ship, still looking
around. “It’s Dad’s ruse for the Rooks … a phony fuel system. Now,
help me find the real fuel chamber.”

Bach searched one side of the cabin for the
fuel shaft, and Star the other. Each of them opened and shut
drawers and pushed or pulled anything movable in an all-out search
for the lead-in chamber. “Don’t worry about looking on either of
the other ships,” Bach said. “Rule ’em out due to distance. Not
feasible to operate from there.”

Star sat on the wraparound bench in the
cockpit and slowly moved her eyes across cabinet facades, floor
gratings, and ceiling panels. She noticed her father’s black marble
nameplate attached to the wall near the mid-ship galley. There was
no logical reason for him to put it on the ship. She went to the
plaque and tried pulling it up, but it didn’t move. She sighed,
still stroking the golden letters, and looked around the cabin for
anything else that could serve as a fuel safe. The side-to-side
stroke of her fingertips caused the plaque to give. She pushed down
and slid it sideways. “The fuel chamber! Bach! Over here,” she
yelled.

“
Under the nameplate from
his office door? Brilliant!” Bach grabbed the boxes of briquettes
he’d set aside and fed them into the shaft.

Now minutes from liftoff, Star headed to the
cockpit to close the back ramp. She raised the lever, but the door
didn’t budge. “No!” she said, moving the lever up and down.

Bach nosed over her shoulder. “A generator
problem. Override the sensor with a hot spark. We weren’t able to
test-fire those generators.”

“
It’s something more than a
generator.” She tried again, but got only an odd crackle from the
area around the lever. “What’s wrong? This technology plays off of
one of my designs. It’s not possible it would react this
way.”

Bach flopped on the bench,
tapped icons on a pressure-sensitive pad and rocked a switch. No
ignition. He glared with contempt at the renovated spacecraft.
“Everything’s scrambled at once.”
Scrambled?
He jumped up and grabbed
Star’s hand. “Hurry!”

“
What?”

“
The EMOG scrambles
instrumentation. Find the EMOG!”

“
The EMOG!”

“
Altemus must have
anticipated enemy intervention and planted it to disable the ship.”
Bach bounced around the ship like a pinball, checking the flight
deck, the mid-ship alcoves with wall hammocks, and the two safety
rooms. He and Star searched every possible option one-by-one, but
didn’t find the EMOG. Growing anxious, Bach’s breath came in short
spurts. He shoved the hair back from his forehead and pivoted in a
circle. “Where would he have put it? Think!” He paced, babbled, and
walked past the aft storage hold a half-dozen times, touching
everything more than once. “It’s U-shaped,” he said. “If I were
Altemus where would I hide a U-shaped device?”

“
Near something relating to
a
u
,” she said
logically.

“
Good answer. But what
relates to a
u
?”

After they’d looked at every lettered object
around the ship, Star said, “I didn’t find anything.” An instant
later, she noticed the Up and Down lettering on the panel around
the controller to the back ramp. She snapped the clamps from the
fascia and lifted it off. Inside, the EMOG generated its deadly
power.

“
Bach, here! Under the
ramp’s controller.”

He rushed aft for the
mysterious little box and grabbed it so fast he knocked it to the
floor along with the Bible. A slip of paper fell from the Bible. He
scooped it all up and loped back to the bench. “
That’s
what this strange purple box
is for,” he said with a full-throttle expression of joy. “Altemus
did it! He finished his special project! He told me he was trying
to develop a compact container for the EMOG so he could carry it
easily, but I never expected anything so small. How did he find
time?” Clutching the weighty box, Bach’s emotions turned fragile.
“It’s part of his legacy. He’s smiling somewhere, knowing his
dreams and life’s work will pay off. Oh, I wish he were here to see
Alpha rising.”

Silence reflected Star’s sorrow. She held
the paper that fell from the Bible and first read it to herself,
then aloud. “‘I have one EMOG, you have the other. Use it wisely
for lakes that deceive, and enemies who don’t believe. Godspeed.’
-Altemus.”

Bach gulped, “The other? He made the second
EMOG?”

She looked at him, not really seeing.
“That’s what brought down the enemy ship.”

“
He spared himself further
suffering at the enemy’s hands, and made the ultimate
sacrifice.”

She choked back tears. “I was trying to find
a cure for his illness. I needed more time.”

“
He didn’t die in vain.”
Bach clutched the Bible to his chest, and could barely speak.
“Star, I have to rescue my fiancée and my crewmates.” He waited for
a moment until the lump cleared from his throat. “Is there a way we
can rescue them with this ship? Do you think they’re still
alive?”

“
I believe they’re alive.
The enemy will use them as a means of controlling you.”

Bach moved to the cockpit, wiping something
from his eyes.

Star secured the Bible in a holding bin, but
kept her father’s note in her hands. Sitting alongside Bach, she
silently read the note again then pressed the paper between her
palms. “Does Godspeed mean anything to you?”

“
It acknowledges our
Creator, God, and asks him to grant a prosperous and safe journey.”
He fired up the engines.

She closed the ramp. “Godspeed.”

*****

CHAPTER TWENTY

Bach launched the big, three-piece Kingship
and entered clear space above the dark dust cloud surrounding
planet Jenesis. Relieved to be on his way, he didn’t anticipate
trouble. But warning alarms sounded and onboard intelligence showed
enemy spacecrafts closing in from three directions. “Damn! Rooks in
pursuit. Three of ’em,” he called out.

Star readied defense systems and
computerized the approaching ships’ speeds. “Alter course to number
three configuration. Five seconds ’till they surround.”

Bach increased fuel burn, and a
pre-programmed maneuver moved the big ship out of the line of
attack. “Escaped ’em for the moment.” The image on his viewscreen
showed the enemy ships surrounding nothing.

The Rooks adjusted their pattern and aligned
three abreast. “Regrouped. Comin’ full-on like a wall,” he
said.

She tapped on a keyboard. “Let them follow
until we break the gravitational pull, then lead them on a chase to
nowhere. Solid fuel’s four times more powerful than their liquid.
They’ll burn out before we do.”

“
Not if they shoot us down
first.”

“
They’d want us alive. If
Dad’s gone, we’re the ones likely to know the fuel secret. They’d
also want to inspect this ship’s technology. They’ll try to force
us down or damage us.”

Bach’s jaw flexed. “We can’t waste fuel.
Supply’s limited.”

“
I don’t know much about
this mission,” Star said. “But we’ll make adjustments
later.”

“
I won’t burn extra fuel on
a chase, but….” He thrust the ship full throttle and, in the
process, pinned himself and Star to the wraparound cockpit bench.
Once beyond Jenesis’s gravitational pull, he cut back on power and,
tense but satisfied, said, “See ya, Rooks.”

“
For now,” she
said.

*****

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Bach piloted Alpha through the zone while
Star studied the flight plan to familiarize herself with the
mission’s sequence.

In anticipation of a long trip to the first
planet, Bach put the ship on auto, got up and stretched his legs,
and looked out an observation port. “Boy, those daystars sure light
up the place. Space is a beautiful island of calm after living
under that dark cloud and the enemy’s torment.” Just then, the ship
passed through a domain of total darkness and emerged in a nebula
of pure electric green. He hooted at the vaporous phenomenon.
“Whooo, beautiful!”

“
It’s normal here,” she
replied.

“
Like something from a
fairy tale.”

She glanced up from reading the itinerary.
“This is a big undertaking, Bach. How long will we be gone?”

He sat beside her. “Seventeen days. Using
the co-op crews’ route maps and landing sites will make navigating
and landing easy, but finding the two inhabitants with the symbol
may take time.”

“
Two inhabitants with a
symbol?”

“
I haven’t filled you in
yet. I’m sorry.” He touched her two necklaces. “We’ll find two
people on each planet with a symbol of hope. A crossed circle … the
chosen ones.”

She lifted her necklaces and stared at them.
“Chosen ones?”

“
The Creator said we’ll
recognize them by that symbol, and they’ll accept our invitation to
board the ship.” While Star digested Bach’s comments, he added,
“They’ll stay in the AstroLab. We’ve built climate-controlled
chambers that simulate the various planets’ environmental
conditions. Altemus and I call it the environmental module, or
E-module.”

“
An E-module? Sounds
interesting.”

“
Your genius father
designed it. Over time, he had Reno and Elan bring in additional
supplies when they made their co-op runs to the other planets. Then
he, and robots
way
smarter than I, utilized those, as well as leftover resources
from the space station.”