Salvador Mercer - Lunar Discovery

“That’s pretty much it, Rock, but there’s one more detail that affects the entire mission,” Marge said.

“Pray tell, what would that be?” Rock asked.

“Show him, Jack,” Marge said, motioning with her head.

Jack pulled out a large map of the lunar surface with concentric circles. “These are the estimated levels of radiation and electromagnetic energy emanating from the device based on our hypotheses. The levels near the device would be lethal to almost any shielding.”

“My God!” Rock said, realizing the implication. “We’d be sending Craig and Julie to their deaths.”

“Yup,” Jack said, frowning at Rock.

There was a moment of silence before Tom spoke. “What are you going to do, Rock?”

“Time to change our plans. We’ve just wasted two weeks of planning. I think Mr. Smith should know about this now.”

“Well, that’s just great,” Tom said, setting his coffee cup down. “And if the spook doesn’t believe Marge?”

“Then we kill two of our own.” Rock sighed.

NASA Space Center

Houston, Texas

In the near future, Day 24

It took just over an hour to convene the emergency meeting. Mr. Smith was livid and insisted on notifying the executive branch immediately. Whatever was happening, Rock soon learned that the president and her staff had been alerted and gathered in the White House Situation Room. Rock and his team had been working on a solution for an hour straight, and luckily Marge and Jack had an idea already on the planning board when they broke the news to him.

The president was clearly visible on the large screen in the auditorium. To Rock’s consternation, Mr. Smith had literally called all three teams together as well as the executive branch for this brief. He had hoped for a smaller group to discuss the potential issue in greater detail before just running with it. As a scientist, he was accustomed to testing any hypothesis first before acting on it, but time was running out and if Marge was correct, then they were barking up the wrong tree, so to speak. The entire last two weeks were a potential colossal waste of time. He only hoped they could salvage something from their work, and Marge had come up with a bold but feasible plan.

“So explain to me why we didn’t know about this earlier?” President Powers asked, and Rock could not only see her frustration but hear it in her voice as well.

“This information was brought to our attention less than two hours ago,” Mr. Smith said, looking at his watch to make sure it was indeed within the allocated time frame that he specified. The man was thorough if nothing else , Rock thought.

“Who made the discovery?” the president asked.

“Well, it’s not an actual discovery,” Mr. Smith said while Mrs. Brown tapped away furiously on her tablet from where she stood next to Smith. “It’s a hypothesis for now.”

“So it could be wrong?” the president asked.

“Yes, but the NASA team seems convinced,” Smith said.

Rock noted how the president was asking her questions directly, no staff or aide to facilitate for her, and he thought it peculiar that Smith would create some separation between his agency and Rock’s. This isn’t boding well for my team , he thought.

“Let me hear from the NASA team, then,” the president said.

Marge stood, but Rock motioned for her to sit back down. He would take point on the issue as team leader and not let Marge be a target in case things got ugly. Marge was one of the most brilliant minds Rock had ever had the pleasure to work with, but when it came to dealing with politics and… well, other women, Marge’s skill set was more than a bit lacking.

“Madam President, I’ll handle the details, if you don’t mind?” Rock said, standing from the first row and walking next to Mr. Smith near the camera. President Powers nodded and Rock began.

“You’ve been briefed, and our data has been sent to you in the report. It’s all there. I’m only going to spell out the implications. We have a high confidence level in our data, and if correct, it means the current mission profile is doomed to failure. There is no way for even our Saturn V to be able to lift the payload required if it has to be that heavily shielded.”

Mrs. Brown worked her magic, and a side screen came up on each monitor, showing payload data.

“It would require more than four times the lift capability of the Saturn in order to reach the moon with the shielding weight requirements for success. Not only do we not have that ability right now, but even if we did, we could not successfully launch the equipment in four different loads. It needs to be integrated, and that is literally impossible with our current configuration, not to mention our lack of that many rockets,” Rock said.

“But your team’s calculations could be incorrect?” the president asked.

“The actual energy output of the EMP could be off—we have no reliable way to measure it near the source—but the hypothesis on the propagation profile and power estimates fit perfectly to explain the two phenomenon of the Chinese equipment failure and the inability of our scanners to detect any trace of an EMP pulse,” Rock said. “We know for a fact the Chinese equipment is dead. That should at least indicate the use of caution on our part.”

Rock looked toward Craig and Julie, who were seated near the first row. It would be their lives on the line, not anyone else’s, and Rock intended to hammer that fact home if he had to, president or not.

The president leaned over and whispered something into the ear of the Director of National Security before resuming and looking right into the camera. “Could readings from a probe nearby confirm this hypothesis?”

“Well, yes, if it was sensing the pulse strength and was properly shielded itself, it could measure the EMP strength quite accurately, especially if it was in a different orbit from the Chinese. Given two separate readings, one an estimated range to simulate the pulse strength of the Chinese orbit, and then a ratio could be calculated and a fair approximation assessed for the wave’s strength at the source of origin,” Rock said, his tone one of confusion. “But we have scrapped the plans for a lunar reconnaissance craft and would have no way of confirming the hypothesis without this additional data.”

Powers looked at her notes on the table where she sat, taking nearly a minute to leaf through them and refusing the assistance of one of her aides who was overeager to help. No one dared to bother her, and everyone had the good sense to remain quiet. Finding a specific piece of paper, she resumed her attention on Rock via the camera. “So you need the readings for the EMP using what measurement?”

“Waveform and frequency readings would be enough,” Rock said.

There was another moment of silence, and the Director of National Security actually placed his hand over the president’s mike while whispering something to her. She nodded and then cleared her throat. “Mr. Smith, clear Mr. Crandon’s team for complete access to the latest data from Operation Eagle Eye.”

“I thought my team had full clearance for all data related to the moon and alien device,” Rock said, feeling a tinge of betrayal at the idea that he was misled as to the level of clearance he and his team held.

“Actually, you do,” Mr. Smith said before the president could answer. “There is simply a time lag in the data while we clear it for dissemination.”

“A lag!” Tom practically shouted from the first row, and Rock had to turn, holding his hands up and motioning for Tom to stay calm. “Damn spooks,” Tom added under his breath.