Salvador Mercer - Lunar Discovery

“And the Gordust ?”

“Ah yes, the burn went perfectly Saturday. Three hours and the new altitude adjustment was achieved. It will be ready for the next phase,” Vlad said, smiling at Alex.

Alex returned the smile and stopped his compulsive hand gestures against his jumpsuit. “Good thing we made those module pod support bars load bearing, eh, Vlad?”

“Indeed, though we could have never imagined an operation like the one we’re about to perform. Orbit adjustments are one thing, cosmic travel is something entirely different.”

“You think the Americans will see this one coming?” Alex asked.

“Not a chance, Alex, not a chance. I wouldn’t have believed it either if I hadn’t seen the authorization for it.”

“Well, no matter what happens, we’ll have six more heroes of the Russian Star,” Alex said, referring to their government’s highest award.

“Agreed, Alex,” Vlad said. Either in person or posthumously , Vlad thought privately.

“What is that American saying?” Alex asked. “They will shit their pants when they find out.”

“I think it’s piss their pants, Alex, though my English is rusty,” Vlad said.

“I’ll put my money on the pants shitting,” Alex said, a smile crossing his face.

NASA Space Center

Houston, Texas

In the near future, Day 10

“You gotta be shitting me!” Jack said, looking at the paperwork Mrs. Brown had given to their team.

“I told you so,” Tom said, also flipping pages from the report.

Marge set her report down. “I don’t see how they could do that. Could the station structure handle the stress?”

Tom was the mechanical engineer. “It would have to simply have a high tensile rating. With no weight involved, the structure only has to withstand the g-forces that would be applied, and a long, slow burn might do it, if it has the right strength.”

“That explains the off load of our people,” Rock said, looking at the details of the report and wondering just what, in the name of all that was sane, would make the Russians attempt to boost the station out of low earth orbit and journey across space to the moon. “Jeff, what do you make of this?”

Jeff Wheeler set his paper down from where he had been leaning over the table and sat down in his chair, taking a deep breath. “Sounds risky to me, Rock. We sure this is their actual plan?”

“Assume it is,” Mrs. Brown said, frowning from the outburst and looking like a school teacher about to scold a misbehaving student. Rock hoped Jack would keep quiet.

“Why are we being given access to this data?” Rock asked the woman. Mr. Smith was otherwise occupied, and Mrs. Brown was temporarily in charge.

“Because you’ll have to explain to the president what’s possible, what’s not possible, and what the likelihood is for each of the scenarios outlined in the brief,” she said.

“Doesn’t she have her own scientific and national security advisors?” Jack asked.

“She does, but their expertise is more along the lines of a broader interpretation of what is happening right now.”

“It means they don’t know shit,” Tom said.

“Enough with the expletives. You guys are worse than college students, I swear,” Lisa said, displeased with the profanity from her two colleagues.

“So she’s coming for sure?” Rock asked Mrs. Brown, ignoring his team members for the present.

“She will be landing soon. The announcement last night delayed her,” Brown said.

Rock understood the delay. After the Saturday evening statement, there was a series of unforeseen consequences to the announcement. Not that everyone was panicking. Many were excited at the news, and there was much hope and speculation about how humanity could benefit from the benevolent wisdom of a caring, kind, and intelligent alien race. Not everyone felt that way, however.

Some were saying the president’s disclosure allowed roughly one million or so fanatical, or nearly fanatical, conspiracy theorists to spring into action. Personally Rock thought it was like throwing gasoline on the embers of a smoldering fire. The internet was ripe with anti-government theories, and many simply pointed to Roswell and said, “I told you so.”

Monday was worse than anticipated. A quarter of the American population freaked, another quarter rejoiced, and half decided it was time for a holiday. Schools were closed, many because the students never showed up. Most factories were not operational as workers stayed home with their families to watch the nonstop coverage on various news shows. Emergency workers, the police, fire departments, and hospital staffs were about the only people to show for work that day. Those workers and the transportation agencies in most cities, if simply to take home those few that did show up for work and now were departing early in the afternoon. Everyone knew it was serious when trading on Wall Street was suspended. Nothing stopped the flow of money unless it was serious.

So Rock and his team watched the president address the nation again on Monday evening to calm those who were fearful and to declare an executive order preventing the rise of any prices for any reason. There had been a run on the stores all day long by the conspiracy wingers and those who saw no reason for panic found that they may not have gas or water if their fellow Americans horded all at once, so that created a proverbial run on the bank with regards to supplies at the grocery and department stores. Most of the stores closed early, and there were only a few reports of looters in some inner city neighborhoods. The entire day had been less than productive.

“Is this the list of questions for us?” Lui said, holding up a packet with papers stapled together, three or four of them.

“Yes, read them all and use the reports from the last few days to prepare for the briefing tonight,” Brown said.

The president finally arrived, and Rock and his team were waiting for the meeting to start. They were in the large auditorium where press releases were normally held, and the Secret Service was all over the place.

“This looks like a lot of people,” Rock said to his boss, John Lui, while looking around the auditorium that was quickly filling with various agency personnel. Rock recognized the FBI and Secret Service agents easily enough. There were also a few military types in uniform from the various services. So far so good. His team members and even Jeff’s engineering staff were easily recognizable to him since he knew them personally, and some of the academia could be spotted by their manner of dress. It is just… different , Rock thought.

The other people in the room—well, he knew some had to be from the president’s staff and, with the exception of Mrs. Brown and Mr. Smith, though not identifiable, he was sure there were both security and intel people in attendance as well.

Everyone took their seats as an aide announced the arrival of the president. Rock stood with his boss beside him a few rows up while his team members were in the row in front of him. President Powers took a seat at a table facing the auditorium audience along with several of her advisors and cabinet members. Rock was hoping she wouldn’t call on him, and he was relieved when the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Montgomery, stood at the podium and began to talk.

The usual threat assessments and security facts were covered ad nauseam, and Rock fought from yawning, which he knew was more than unprofessional, wishing he could simply get back to work. Then a national security advisor to the Director of National Security gave another intel briefing about the various and usual mundane threats to our beloved United States. It wasn’t until they reached the part about the Chinese efforts that Rock’s ears were tickled.