Salvador Mercer: Lunar Discovery

“I’m not sure NASA even understands the physics involved here,” Secretary Morris said. “Better to let our scientific team of physicists arrive for a full briefing on the neutrino discovery. We can have one scheduled late tonight or tomorrow morning at the latest.”

Secretary Morris ran the newly created Department of Science and seemed to still have a grudge that the prior administration didn’t fold NASA into it. The prior president felt that computers, digital streaming, and computer technology were sciences and NASA was space related. Rock was just happy that the inclusion of his agency didn’t happen three years prior.

“Schedule the meeting, but we don’t have time to wait. Deputy Director Crandon, finish your explanation, but briefly, please,” the president said.

“The neutrinos are detected by the collisions that occur when one of them hits a hydrogen atom head on. These collisions are rare but measureable by their by-product, gamma rays. Usually an underwater heavy water tank and the associated monitoring equipment are all that is needed to detect the presence of these collisions. Since neutrinos are practically massless, they pass right through solid matter as if it wasn’t there. The sun itself is the primary producer of neutrinos in our solar system, and despite its massive output, we record neutrino strikes at a fairly low rate. Taken as a whole, the massive neutrino collisions we observed could only have been produced by a major energy source far stronger than anything we can produce on earth. Thus our conclusion, Madam President.”

There was silence for a moment while everyone waited for the president to respond. “What is your assessment, then?” she asked Rock.

Rock looked around the room before responding. “You’re going to have to ask Congress for a hell of a lot more than a few billion dollars if you want to retrieve the extra-terrestrial object before someone else does, Madam President.”

People’s Republic Space Command

Beijing, China

In the near future, Day 2

“Is the Explorer responding yet?” asked Lun Chui of the People’s Republic Space Command at the closed-door meeting just outside of their headquarters in Beijing.

The room was stale from the polluted air despite the filtering system that was running twenty-four-seven. The coal plants were cheap to start up, but China was suffering from one of the worst air pollution problems in recorded history.

Newly minted Mission Lead Hun Lee pulled at his collar before answering. “Not yet, Director. We have attempted several times to reboot the main computer, but we’re only receiving passive data from it as it orbits the moon, and only when it’s planet-side.”

“That’s still not acceptable. What will be done to regain control of it?” Director Chui asked, pacing the floor in the dim conference room. Hun knew Director Chui had just avoided being sacked as well, and his own boss resigned in disgrace once the mission had failed. Well, resigned was a nice way of saying quitting before getting fired, and the old man was under house arrest, though no one would use that word publicly. The only saving grace for his former boss was the fact that something appeared to be interfering with their mission and indeed could have been a factor in its failure.

“Has the signals section found a cause for the transmissions at the landing site?” Mission Technician Lin Fu asked from behind her glasses, perusing the report they all had in front of them.

“We have the source’s frequencies and strength profile but not any rational or intent for the transmissions,” Signals Technician Chon Chu said from across the table.

An aide walked into the room, handing a note to the space director, who read it quickly and moved to a secure phone against the near wall.

“Any ideas on regaining control or will the mission be terminated?” asked Lin, whispering from across the table.

Hun knew that the political politburo was fickle when it came to technological missions, and the Space Command was a fairly new organization with more scientists in it than bureaucrats, which was most uncommon in the government, even in the twenty-first century. In a country of well over one and a half billion people, the leadership sometimes preferred to simply start over when making sweeping staff changes. Lin was simply expressing a very valid self-concern.

“I’m not sure, Lin, but I think we’re focusing on the wrong element here,” Hun said, also in a hushed whisper, careful not to disturb the director.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Lin, leaning over.

“You should know better than most, Lin. We’re not even sure what we encountered or from what country it belongs,” Hun said.

Lin leaned back. “Perhaps we’ll see some information on this soon. I’ve already informed the leadership that the signal strength coming from the structure is most likely too high to be from any source other than the Americans.”

“What would they be doing with lunar base and how could it be kept a secret for so long?” Chon asked, obviously not buying the idea that the Americans were involved.

Hun never got a chance to respond, and neither did Lin. “New plans,” said the director, hanging up the phone and returning to the table. “Hun, your group will be secondary advisors. We have been ordered to report to the Wenchang Command Center immediately. It appears the People’s Army has identified the source of the radio signals, and maybe even the cause of your team’s failure. A lift chopper will pick us up on field three. Gather your things and meet me in the lobby in ten minutes.”

The insult was not acknowledged, the team mission members having been accustomed to such direct talk during their careers, and being relegated to “secondary advisors” was more than enough information to infer the future of their fate, and it wasn’t promising.

“Damn,” Lin said, picking up her papers and stuffing them into her portfolio that she pulled from the floor.

“No time for a change of clothes?” Chon asked, his eyes wide.

“Quiet, Chon. Be thankful you don’t suffer the same fate as Wang,” Hun said, referring to his old boss, leaving off the man’s title as was customary when one was disgraced.

Minister of Space Command’s Office

Kremlin, Moscow, Russia

In the near future, Day 2

“Vladimir, how have you been, old friend?” Dmitry asked, walking up and embracing his longtime comrade.

“Good, Dima, and you?” Vlad responded, returning the heartfelt greeting and grabbing the man by the shoulders, arms outstretched so he could get a good look at his onetime mentor.

“I’ve seen better days, Vlad.” The smile disappeared as Dmitry motioned for Vlad to take a seat at a chair near the window and away from his desk.

“Chai?” Dmitry asked, looking to the door.

“No tea for me today. I’ve had my morning coffee and my doctor says to limit my caffeine,” Vlad said, sitting in the chair near the window, which overlooked the Kremlin’s grounds, and setting his briefcase on the floor where it leaned against the small table’s leg.

“Elena, just one tea, please,” Dmitry said to his assistant at the door.

“You’re looking well despite the years,” Vlad said, smiling, trying to lighten up the mood a bit and wondering what could be so urgent that the chief of the Roscosmos space program would summon him in person from his duties at the Vostochny Cosmodrome in the Far East.

“I should have been on the pension years ago,” Dmitry did say, managing a small smile. “I’m sorry for the long trip, Vlad. We have work to do, and something has come up that will require your presence in Moscow this week.”