David Golemon - Legacy

Niles looked over at Virginia and Sarah and shook his head as he pulled out a cell phone and opened it. He hit only one button and then closed it just as the security team arrived. As the first man reached out to take Niles by the arm, Compton held his right index finger into the air, and then pointed at the phone on the desktop of Director Appleby-the phone buzzed.

Appleby hit the intercom to his outer office. “Yes,” he said, while eyeing the small man in the black jacket and plain white shirt who wore his thick glasses down toward the end of his nose. Then his eyes turned to the two striking women next to him.

“Uh, sir, the White House switchboard is calling; the president has asked to speak with you.”

Suddenly the blood drained from the man’s face as he swallowed. He had just been cursing the president in the last few weeks for cutting his budget and that of NASA. He was wondering now if he had heard about his bashing and had sent these three here to collect his scalp. He slowly lifted the phone from the cradle.

“Appleby,” he said meekly into the phone, as he held his left hand up to stay the security team from removing Niles, Sarah, and Virginia from his office. As the thin man with the lab coat listened to the president, he nodded and said, “Yes, sir.” Appleby punched a button and laid the phone back in the cradle. Then he nodded for the security team to leave by moving his eyes toward the door. The speakerphone came to life.

“Mr. Compton, I owe you five dollars, you were right, he didn’t believe the letter or the signature. I’ve got to stop betting with you. Mr. Appleby is now a believer and has recognized my voice, although he will undoubtedly run a trace program for further confirmation when no one is looking.”

Niles took a step toward the desk. “Yes, sir, I’m sure he will,” he said softly as he pushed his glasses back onto his nose and stepped back.

“Okay, Mr. Appleby. Dr. Compton and the two fine scientists in his company are there to evaluate any and all contingency plans DARPA may have on the boards for getting to the Moon in one hell of a hurry. If you remember the security briefing you attended at the Pentagon three years ago, you may recall the password Case Blue?”

Neither Sarah nor Virginia had thought that still more blood could drain from the scientist’s face, but it did. Whatever that code name was it had scared the hell out of the director of the agency.

“Dr. Compton and his two assistants are to be given every consideration, and hold nothing back from them. If there is something on the boards, explain it to these three. I don’t care if it’s something your people have doodled out on the toilet wall, show it to them. At the moment, the general public and the world think that the United States is out of the investigation that is to take place on the Moon’s surface; I want it to stay that way for the time being. Do you understand everything that I have said, Mr. Appleby?”

“Yes, sir, full cooperation. However, may I ask just who these people are, and just what are their qualifications to be in our facility?”

“Now you see, Director Appleby, that’s a good, sound question, and in answer I’ll say, no, you may not ask. Dr. Compton has been designated by me as a project director for findings on how we get to the Moon, and will lead any effort in this endeavor, if there is an effort. Now, is there anything more?”

“Sir, this Case Blue, is it really-”

“Have a good day, Mr. Director.” The line went dead and Appleby slowly reached out and disconnected his end with the question officially unasked.

“He can be a bully; I actually think he enjoys it at times.”

Virginia and Sarah looked at Niles and saw that it wasn’t the president that had enjoyed being a bully, but Niles. They saw the quick little smirk that disappeared from his face before they could fully realize it had been there.

“Well, if the president says you’re qualified to be here, then you must be up on your Astro-Sciences and Gaming.”

“Yes, I believe between the three of us we won’t make complete fools of ourselves with your staff,” Niles said, nodding toward Sarah and Virginia.

As Appleby gathered his notepad, Sarah leaned in toward Niles.

“Director, if I may ask, what is Case Blue?”

“Lieutenant, as long as you live, don’t you ever say those words aloud to anyone,” Niles warned. “There are only a hundred men and women across the entire globe that know what that code name is for, so forget you ever heard it.” Niles kept his eyes on Sarah until she felt intimidated enough that she just nodded her head.

Director Appleby walked to the door and held it open for his guests.

“Then I guess we’ll start with any questions you may have about DARPA. I’ll answer them the best I can on our way to Building 11 for a tour of our Industrial Necromancy Division.”

“Excuse me?” Virginia said.

“It’s a place where dreams come true, Ms. Pollock-heavy metal dreams.”

As Niles, Virginia, and Sarah toured Building 11, they marveled at the mock-ups and engineering models they examined. There were seventeen different kinds of space vehicles that utilized everything from solid fuel to ion pulse generators for propulsion. There were over one hundred different companies currently bidding on the new Mars lander and environmental habitat and, best of all, there were full-scale mock-ups of the newest Ares I and Ares V rockets along with an Orion crew capsule from the Constellation program, which had just been canceled by the president. These were to have been used to return not only Americans, but also many other nations back to the Moon.

“Mr. Appleby, do we have anything that is real here, or are we becoming the world’s best dreamers and toy makers?”

Niles cringed at the harsh way Virginia stated her question. As for himself, he would have tried to use a little more tact, but Virginia had her way and that’s why she was with him.

“Ms. Pollock,” Appleby said, rounding on her as men and women from DARPA’s Industrial Necromancy Division stood and wondered what was happening. “I assure you these are not toys. With less than a full year’s warning, we have companies out there ready to get started on these so-called dreams. In less than two or three years, with the right budget, we can have men back on the Moon not only for a few days but for longer, very much longer, durations.”

“Mr. Appleby, you fail to understand, we may have to go back now ,” Niles said. “If we lag behind, the Russians or Chinese will get there first. Then they could have a substance that makes plutonium look like Silly Putty. May I also remind you that there has been a discovery of advanced weaponry found at that same location that we hope went up in the Shackleton explosion, but if it didn’t it will set the United States back three hundred years or more in technology if somebody else gets to it first. You can see why the president is so concerned. He knows he may have made a foolish mistake by trying to be fiscally responsible in cutting your budget, but tell me who could have foreseen this happening? There are other areas of the military that the president has to concentrate on that have nothing to do with fighting our fellow man.” Niles refused to look away after the harsh rebuke.

“That does not change the fact that we are nowhere near to getting there, even if…”

The three visitors watched Appleby’s expression change as if a sudden gust of wind had blown away all previous thought.

“Mr. Appleby?” Niles asked.

“Follow me please,” Appleby said as he spoke over his shoulder and raced down the main floor of Building 11. “As I said, we cannot get there with what we have on the design board. What we need is a proven and already built technology.”