David Golemon - Legacy

“That was interesting,” Everett said, looking up at the swaying lights.

“Not as interesting as this,” Niles said as he gestured to a flat area fronted by a large rock wall. There, lined up in neat rows stretching for a quarter mile to the right and left, and unseen if you stayed on the trail leading to the dead end, were what looked like graves. Each one had a marker, some larger than others.

Collins and Sebastian reached for their large flashlights and shone them on the first few markers. The lighting here was far dimmer than the rest of the excavation, being blocked by a large lava wall created many millions of years before.

“Unknown Soldier.” Sebastian read the German words from the first marker. “Waffen SS, 12 December 1944.”

Jack shone his light down the first row until it became too weak to carry further.

“Jesus, from what I can see, they were all buried within three days of each other,” Everett said, moving further down the line.

“What do you think, Mr. Director? Cave-in?” Jack asked Niles.

“From the looks of that wall of rock, that seems like a safe bet,” Niles said. He turned to face Collins. “At least so you would think. Then again, if you’re like me and the senator and have been picking up all these expended rounds on the cave floor, you might want to reevaluate that guess.”

“So you were looking too,” Sebastian said while he scanned more of the grave markers.

“Pretty hard to miss, Major,” Niles answered, brushing some of the dust off the stone markers. “They took the time to use machines to etch their service branch and date of death, but no names.”

“I estimate over a thousand graves. Four rows,” Everett said as he returned to the group. “The markers go all the way to the cave-in, or whatever it is.”

Collins walked with Niles toward the dead end of rock and dirt. He reached down and brought one of the fist-sized stones to his face and shone the flashlight on it.

“What is it, Jack?” Niles asked. He raised his head and looked around.

“This isn’t rock,” he said. He looked up at the massive fall. “It’s concrete. And look here-there’s a larger piece.” Jack kicked at a one-foot-by-two-foot chunk of white concrete.

“Maybe it was just landfill that the Germans threw in here.”

“Or maybe this was an entrance to another gallery. The sign back there said we had entered gallery number one, but we haven’t come across any others.”

“Good point, Jack,” Niles said, turning to reevaluate the mass of rock and concrete before him.

“Maybe this will shed some light on your speculation, Colonel Collins,” a voice said from behind them.

Jack and Niles turned to see the Vietnamese sniper, Tram, holding a large sample of stone out for them to see. The rock was ancient lava that had darker markings on it. Jack took the sample and turned the light on it.

“Maybe burn marks from the original lava flow,” Niles said.

Jack rubbed his thumb over the scorch marks and rubbed the soot between his thumb and fingers. He brought the mixture to his nose. Then he held his fingers out to Tram.

“Smell familiar, Private?” he asked.

Tram sniffed and raised his brows.

“Semtex, or something like it-maybe some sort of dry explosive. Not any kind of plastique.”

“Possibly something the German army or Waffen SS would use?”

“I’m not that familiar with World War II explosives, Colonel, so I will rely on your historical expertise,” Tram said.

“Handy little fella to have around, isn’t he?” Niles said as he watched the Vietnamese soldier head for the opening that led back to the trail.

Jack smiled; “You don’t know the half of it, Niles,” he answered, tossing the rock toward Carl. “What do you make of that?”

Everett smelled it, then actually tasted it. He looked at Jack.

“Cordite, some kind of explosive,” Everett said. He looked up at the blockage. “I guess we know now that the Germans brought this down to block the entrance to something.”

“Let’s see if we can get in there. Niles. Could you go back and get the senator and Alice to rest as best they can? I’ll get a detail down here with food and water and sleeping equipment. Maybe a medic to keep a closer eye on the… well, we may need a medic here anyway,” Jack said. He turned to face Everett and Sebastian. “Hopefully our Polish friends or SEALs brought some explosives along with them.” He looked at his watch. He frowned when he saw that he was past his self-imposed deadline.

“What time do you have, Jack?” Everett asked.

“ Dark Star 3 just entered the Moon’s orbit.”

The men all became silent as Jack walked over and sat down next to the first grave marker. He lay down his weapon and pulled the radio from his belt. As he pushed the transmit button and was about to make the call, he felt the strange vibration once again coming through the earthen floor. Then, as he lowered the radio, he heard the soft humming sound in his ears. When he released the transmit button, the sound and vibration ceased. Finally, too tired to think clearly, Jack made the call to CQ.

All around the dead end, the members of the search team felt the vibrations and internal sound increase, and actually seemed to move closer from what they knew now was the other side of the cave-in.

Everett, Sebastian, and Tram all looked from the wall of rock to their surroundings. They simultaneously concluded that they would get little sleep while they waited for their supplies to arrive.

“Come on, let’s see if there’s a back door to this place,” Everett said. He took one last look back at a very worried Jack Collins and knew exactly what he was thinking as he spoke to the command element outside.

“Sarah will make it, Jack.”

After the sudden loss of mission commander Kendal and LEM pilot Dugan, the mood had been somber. Sarah and the other technicians, mainly Will Mendenhall, concentrated on devising a makeshift antenna so the lunar excursion team could stay in communication with Falcon 1 while on the surface. Thus far Will was frustrated by not enough time and too little equipment to work with.

As Falcon 1 made its first pass over the lunar surface, most of the personnel were snapping pictures and taking video, along with long-range photography of the landing site two miles from Shackleton Crater. On their first and only pass the long-range telephoto lens on Falcon took some very detailed photos of the interior of Shackleton. The damage was tremendous, but as Houston had said in their second to last communication, there seemed to be intact structures inside the crater. The photography also picked up what looked like the remains of the ESA LEM Astral, lying on its side heavily damaged. The photos and video showed no survivors. Of Magnificent Dragon, there was no trace.

As the only mission specialist who’d be aboard Altair when they landed, Sarah McIntire was to be the command operative while on the Moon. She took her predicament stoically and knew she had the difficult job of deciding whether to recover the technology if the Chinese excursion team was friendly or destroying the weaponry if they weren’t. As for the mineral, she had already decided it was far too powerful and unstable to recover. She had already briefed the team, soldiers included, on her decision.

Sarah slid into the command module with the final landing data for Ryan to enter into the Altair ’s computer system. Ryan accepted the new coordinates without comment. His mind was strictly on setting the lander down in one piece, never mind landing in a specific area. Sarah could see that the usually boisterous Ryan had been in no mood for anything but self-reflection following his jump in grade to LEM pilot, a position he had so thoroughly failed at back in the Houston simulator. As the third part in a three-part backup plan, he knew none of them was even supposed to be there.