THE HODMANDOD EFFECT
CHAPTER TWO

The security team’s inventory read like something out of a 1960’s army surplus requisition. Five thousand rounds for three AK-47’s with user manual and recommended spare parts. Five thousand rounds for three M-16’s with user manual and recommended spare parts. Five thousand rounds for one M-60 machine gun replete with tripod, integral bipod, user manual and recommended spare parts. Five thousand rounds for three .30 caliber Carbines, user manual and recommended spare parts. One thousand rounds for three .45 caliber semi-automatic Colt side-arms. They were also supplied with belt pouches for the extra clips and holsters for the .45’s.

The one thing that Rooney demanded and got was the OPED-EWS. Or, the outer perimeter, electronic defense and early warning system. The engineers for the Elpis enhanced its energy output at the last minute so the system could be integrated to its power grid. Several conductor rods would be pounded into the ground in circular fashion surrounding the surface ship. When spaced no more than fifteen feet apart, the main generators would feed the rods that would react with one another, forming what they hoped would be an impenetrable, electrified field capable of frying anyone or anything that tried to enter while it was in operation. In addition, the rods would scan a one-hundred yard distance around the perimeter. The early warning system would be tied in to the security computer inside the ship. The computer would be fed information by the system if it were to detect movement and analyze the size, weight and height of the possible intruder or intruders. If it equaled the mass and size indicators programmed into it as a threat, security would be immediately notified through a series of alarms…each one becoming louder and longer as it was allowed to continue. When Rooney was asked why he needed such a sophisticated system, his only answer was that he liked to get a good night’s sleep without having to worry about waking up with his throat cut.

The launch was delayed several times before the team received the go-ahead to stand-by on the space station. They arrived on November 15, 2164. Even Rooney and his men were on edge now. They were eight days overdue to depart and they were more than ready to get the game on. One thing they were glad of was to have the opportunity of several more days to get used to their ‘new’ weapons. Being the consummate professionals they were, it didn’t take long for their proficiency level to reach the grade of excellent.

Two more days went by before they were finally given the order to board. The Astraeus was a huge vessel. It was cylindrical in shape, reminding Rooney of a cigar he saw in a store window one time. The Astraeus was two thousand feet long and 250 feet in diameter at its middle, tapering off at each end to a diameter of 50 feet. There were no windows or portals to look through. Prior to leaving Earth, the panels that would make up the hull had been made black, giving the Astraeus an ominous appearance. The Elpis was docked at the rear of the

Astraeus. It was designed to conform to the shape of the mother ship’s form, but once separating for its short flight to the planet’s surface, two stabilizer wings, a tail and engines would extend to allow the vessel a smooth transition into the planet’s atmosphere. The Astraeus had no offensive weapons. Its only defenses were against radiation, compressed atom particles and large objects it would need to move out of the way as it coursed through the Kuiper Belt and the Oort Cloud. Most of the scientists agreed there would be little need of the LOD once they exited the outer reaches of the solar system, but it would be kept active throughout the journey should any contingencies arise. The only propellant on board was to use as stabilizers and assist with slowing the vessel. A separate fuel tank was added for this and was equipped with enough for the return trip; or so they hoped.

The flight plan was more detailed than anything ever devised for travel. The man responsible for getting them through the difficulties was Captain Robert Brubaker. He was 40 years old and liked the idea of slowing down the aging process. He was a rugged man who would have looked more at home on an ancient sailing ship than on the Astraeus. And, here he was, the first captain of the first starship. But, since he was the captain of the first starship ever built by man, nobody knew what one of those should look like. It was just as well it looked like him.

His crew was made up of a first officer named Julian Fisk. Fisk was two years Brubaker’s junior, but he was a competent astrologist, astronomer and electromagnetic engineer. Two ensigns accompanied Brubaker. Nestor Riggs was the chief engineer, specializing in stasis control, ship’s energy, and interstellar space computer navigation. The other ensign was Benjamin Johnson, navigator, environmental control specialist and ration coordinator. Rounding out the crew was Pilot First Class John Rogers. He would be the man to fly the Elpis to the surface of A.S.P. On the ground, he would be in command of the team’s safety and the security team. Rogers had served time with the Federal Guard and had no trouble in garnering the respect of Rooney and his men.

The last problem the designers faced was installing artificial gravity on board the Astraeus and the Elpis. This had been a nagging issue for years. They took the work of Russian engineer Anatoly Podletnoff and performed further research on his theories and even the claims he made as far back as the 1990’s. Fellow scientists in his day realized he was on to something, but didn’t have the technology at the time to perfect the system. Since his theory involved gravito-magnetic fields, if they could bring this technology to fruition, the vessel’s own engine could assist with the problem. In the early twenty-first century, scientists were only able to produce one-hundred millionths of a ‘g’ by this method. The minds of mission control, along with the latest technologies known to them, were able to develop a viable system to replicate Earth’s gravity on board the Astraeus. Several spinning superconductors were placed along the length of the craft, coupled with the massive propulsion toroidal tubes. The gravity wouldn’t reach its full potential until the ship left the Oort Cloud and reached near light speed. After that, the crew would be able to walk about normally. Since it was planned the ship would exit the solar system in a four-week time frame, the lack of gravity was not deemed harmful. Tests revealed the ship did not have to be continually accelerating for the effect to take place.

Food supplements were created to keep the crew alive and as healthy as possible when not in stasis. Mission engineers reverted to the 1960’s, and perfected ‘tube’ food. The variety of flavors was quite large, but it was still paste you squeezed into your mouth from a tube. When shipboard gravity was not enacted, this helped keep the messes of regular food to a bare minimum. Everyone was informed of the limitation of the tube food and advised they could send back as many complaints as they wished.

Waste management was a top priority for the mission engineers. Urine would be processed, purified and stored for drinking water. Any byproducts would be discharged into space. Fecal matter from the crew would also be processed. The Japanese, a full century earlier, discovered that human sewage contained a great deal of protein because of the bacteria it contained. The mission engineers developed a machine that could extract those proteins, combine them with a reaction enhancer and dump them in what is termed an ‘exploder’. The end product is something that tastes a little like steak. The ‘meat’ would be sixty percent protein, twenty-eight percent carbohydrates, three percent lipids and nine percent minerals. Before being ejected by the machine, food coloring would be added and flavor enhancing soy protein injected. The mission engineers took this finding to the project manager, who took it to the project director, who took it to the Federal States Space Board of Trustees. It was decided by all involved, for the morale of the crew, they would not be informed as to where their steak came from.

There was only one hygienic cleansing station for all to use. Any predisposed feelings about privacy or about being shy had to be expunged prior to boarding the Astraeus. The vessel was built to travel fast, not for comfort.

Deep thought was given to sterilizing the males before departure. Having pregnancies occur among the women during the journey was an unacceptable variable. Instead, the mission doctors opted to give the younger women contraceptives that were much more effective than previous offerings to the public. One pill would protect against such an occurrence for four weeks. They were all given a generous supply.

Of all the technology on board the Astraeus, none of it compared to the stasis chambers for the crew. Once they cleared the Oort Cloud and the ship was accelerating according to plan, members of the crew would rotate in and out of their stasis chambers. The crewman would enter the chamber which consisted of a soft, eggshell mattress, with a sheet covering, and a pillow for the head to rest on. Once inside the chamber, the crewman would slip both arms into medical sleeves. As the protective cover descended and locked into place, it would signal the sleeves to tighten around the arms. Two IV’s would be inserted into each arm by computer guided cameras. One IV would introduce medical nanorobots into the bloodstream. These would circulate through the crewman’s system, at the cell level, and repair any and all damage found during the suspended animation tenure. The medical nanorobots were necessary because the other methods used to place the crewman in stasis, over time, would cause physical damage to the vital organs without them. This IV would also take a DNA sample from the crewman for analysis. When the crewman re-entered the stasis chamber at a later time, it would recognize nanorobots had already been inserted, and this process would not be repeated.

The other IV would administer Retinoids for radiation protection and specially formulated chemicals to induce slowed heart rate, and decreased respiration in the crewman. At the same time, there would be a gradual drop in temperature inside the chamber. By using both temperature and chemically induced stasis, along with the medical nanorobots, the crewman would be able to remain in a sustained state for six months without undue brain or circulatory damage. The main benefit from the nanotechnology is that once the nanorobots were introduced, they would keep working for the next one hundred years, whether the person was alive or not.

A special nutrient supplement would be eaten by the crewman an hour before being placed in the chamber. This development of stasis food was the genius invention of Max Rothschild. The nutrient supplement was crammed with all the body would need over a six month period and worked by delayed dispersal and absorption. It consisted of more than two pounds of mass, and took everything the crewmen had to consume it all. It was dry, grainy and did not taste good. It could not be chewed and had to be swallowed in bite sized cubes. No fluids were allowed to help wash it down. During training, they were made to eat one cube to experience the procedure. Afterward, upon preparing for stasis, Dr. Rothschild was a hated man. If the crewman were to eat the supplement ahead of the prescribed time, they would become violently ill from its effects. It was imperative the nutrient be consumed exactly as instructed, or it would be a trip to the ship’s small infirmary to have their stomach pumped.

Oxygen supply for the ten year journey was solved in two ways. One was by installing four large tanks of highly compressed oxygen. An oxygen generator was placed on board to produce the life-saving gas through water stored on the Astraeus. The oxygen supplied was kept at the lowest level possible within the interior and still be able to sustain life and cognitive abilities, except on the bridge. Once they reached A.S.P, they had the equipment to recharge their supply.

Rooney was amused at his two, unexpected security team members. They were the robots that originally ventured to Ajax Strata Prime. They moved on rubber treads, threaded along their gears in a triangular fashion. Both had been adapted to hold and fire the AK-47’s. Their arms were designed in such a way that they could grip and turn for simple tasks. The robots had night vision, laser sighting, reconnaissance capability and remote video and audio feedback to the security command center. On their original trip, mission control had designated them as X and Y. Rooney thought that was too impersonal. Being a shade-tree programmer himself, he revised their call designations as BOB-1 and BOB-2.

On November 18, 2164, the docking clamps that kept the Astraeus prisoner to the space station were released. Except for the cameras on the bridge, there was no looking outside. The huge, cigar shaped vessel moved slowly away from the station. Brubaker was seated in the captain’s chair, overseeing the activities. Rogers was at the helm with Riggs seated beside him assisting with navigation and systems control. Fisk was manning the sensors station. Johnson was below monitoring environmental systems. The science team and security detail were in their launch seats, strapped down and each wondering about their own cares, fears, doubts and anticipation about the unknown.

There was no sensation inside the ship as it picked up speed at a rapid rate. The design engineers’ belief that the propulsion system would act as its own inertial dampening field was panning out. To those inside, it didn’t seem as if they were moving at all. At one point, Dustin looked over at Courtney and shrugged.

“When are going to get moving?”

She shook her head inside the space helmet.

“I don’t know.”

Rooney laughed and pushed the suit to suit com button.

“We’ve been moving for over half an hour,” he said.

“How do you know that?” Dustin queried.

“I can see the reflection from one of the consoles on the bridge. Earth went underneath us more than twenty minutes ago.”

**********

Brubaker relied on BOB-1 and BOB-2 when the Astraeus entered the Kuiper Belt. They were the experienced members of the crew and he allowed them to school him on how to get through. They were very articulate and had a surprisingly human voice. Both could respond to technical questions and instantly regurgitate files of information they had acquired during the first trip.

Four weeks into the journey, and now the Astraeus was gingerly making her way through the belt. It was easier than Brubaker believed it would be. He was grateful to have the BOB’s, as the crew started to call them, on board. They were incapable of being nervous and operated the vessel from sheer understanding of what it took. The artificial intelligence they had been equipped with was extraordinary as far as Brubaker was concerned.

When the Oort Cloud was encountered, the BOB’s were even more careful in their approach. Until they had gone through it, little was really known about the cloud that lurked at the edge of the solar system. If they were nervous, Brubaker thought, they didn’t show it. But their mannerisms grew increasingly tense than when they went through the Kuiper. They constantly interacted with each other and made sure they were on the same page.

The month leading up to exiting the system was hard on the crew. Living in zero gravity and being in such close quarters with each other strained their tempers at times. But now, with it being so close to energizing the gravity equipment, the level of excitement had increased to almost the proportion it was when they left Earth. Their sense of humor had returned and friendships were being solidified.

On the fifth week, and a little behind schedule, Brubaker announced the Astraeus had finally entered open space. A wild cheer went up among the crew and there were hugs all around. The BOB’s stood before them and watched the self-congratulatory event with no sign of enthusiasm. There were none who expected them to have any. Still, they were viewed as valuable members of the crew and some of them approached the BOB’s and thanked them for their help as if they were human. To the chagrin of those who reached out, they replied with total silence.

Twenty-four hours later, Brubaker called a meeting in the mess hall. It was just large enough to handle everyone at once. The only ones absent were the BOB’s. Brubaker assigned them to watch over the bridge during the meeting. Once everyone arrived, the captain addressed them all.

“Well,” he began. “We’ve already come a long way but we really just got started. I’m glad to inform you all that we plan on revving up this engine and begin our acceleration. The

BOB’s have informed me the deflectors are operating within normal parameters and they see no reason why we can’t get the Astraeus moving at full capacity. For those of you that don’t know what that means, we should have gravity in about a week.”

Everyone looked around and smiled, nodding gratefully at the good news.

“There’s no reason why we all can’t enjoy the feeling for a few days,” he continued. “After that, the stasis register will be posted. Some of you will have the opportunity to enjoy it a little longer, while most of you will be put into stasis. When it comes time for you to rotate, the

BOB’s will bring you out, and the others will go in.”

Delmar Richardson was the science team’s animal behavioral analyst. He was thirty-nine years old, and had greying hair. After four weeks in close quarters with him, the rest of the crew considered him snobbish and overbearing. These were traits the mission psychologists tried to wean out during the selection process, but he obviously hid them very well. Either that, or Delmar was already feeling the pressure of being in deep space. If that were the case, most thought, he was about to get an education on what deep space was all about.

“I would like to be one who goes into stasis last,” Delmar said to Brubaker. “If it’s all the same to you.”

Brubaker frowned and yet managed a slight smile.

“Mister Richardson,” he said. “I don’t assign this arbitrarily. I assign by draw. If you draw, you go in. If you don’t, you don’t.”

“I see,” Delmar sniffed. “Not very scientific.”

“I think all of you have already seen that I’m not the scientific type,” he said, his voice lowering. “I’m the commanding officer type. The captain of this ship type.”

Brubaker glared at Delmar.

“Comprendo?”

“Quite,” Richardson replied, looking away from Brubaker’s stare.

“Very well,” Brubaker said. “Let’s hope the next few days go according to plan. If they do, then we’ll be walking on our feet instead of gliding around and bumping into each other.”

Brubaker advised the meeting was over and everyone was dismissed. Most of the crew left the mess hall and went about their business. Hanging back were Delmar and Adam Davis. Davis was the science team leader. He was 45 years old and specialized in atmospheric conditions and analysis. Apart from Stephanie Trotter, he was the oldest of the team. Davis moved closer to Delmar so they could talk in private.

“You need to calm down,” he hissed. “We have a long way to go. Understand?”

Richardson simply nodded that he did.

“No more questioning the captain or how things are done on this ship,” Davis added. “Our job starts when we reach A.S.P. Until then, keep your mouth shut and your eyes open.”

“I heard you,” Delmar said with a tight throat, now glaring at him.

Richardson moved from the mess hall and left Davis behind. The science team leader shook his head and cursed under his breath. He thought how that was all he needed this early in the expedition.

For several days Brubaker monitored the ship’s speed sensor. The Astraeus was accelerating at a phenomenal rate. In forty-seven hours it reached .7 the speed of light. In less than seventy-two hours it was propelling itself through space at .8. By the end of the week, the Astraeus was moving at the prescribed .99 the speed of light. Brubaker gave the order for BOB-1 to stand by for gravity field engagement. He then warned everyone to take a seat and strap themselves in.

“Now,” he said over the intercom. “When BOB-1 turns this thing on, your body weight is going to hit you fast. For some of you, that means you’re going to throw up. So, have your barf bags ready. Don’t stand up until I tell you to. If at that time you still feel a little woozy, stay in your seat until it passes.”

He looked at the monitor to make sure he was getting a ‘thumbs up’ from everyone.

When he was satisfied, he told BOB-1 to make it happen. The robot pushed a sequence of buttons on his command console. The crew could hear the machine begin to whir. It was a dull

sound at first that heightened to a shrill whine, hurting their ears. After a few seconds, the speed of the machine reached its apex and the noise went away. Suddenly, everyone’s stomach seemed to drop into their hip area. Six of the crewmen retched into their bags. Three passed out.

Brubaker started laughing and shook his head. Suddenly, his face contorted with pain. Before he could reach for his bag, the vomit spewing from Brubaker’s stomach splattered all over BOB-1.

**********

Rooney was glad to be on his feet again. He took Stone and Dustin into the security command center and had them help arrange a weight room. There were more than enough items to fill the void of having actual weight lifting equipment. Rooney wanted all of them to stay in as peak physical condition as possible. There wasn’t much for the BOB’s to do now that the ship was at cruising speed, and for some reason they showed an unnatural curiosity about what the security team was doing. The men found it amusing the BOB’s would always come in when they started lifting their makeshift weights. The robots never said anything, they just watched. When the soldiers were through with their workout, the BOB’s would leave.

“What do you believe they’re thinking?” Stone asked Rooney.

“Thinking?” Rooney responded, chuckling. “They don’t think.”

“So why are they watching us all the time?” Dustin chimed in.

Rooney didn’t have an answer to that one. He looked at the empty doorway and thought about it for a moment.

“I think their artificial intelligence has been programmed for them to study what they can,” he offered. “They probably haven’t ever seen humans work out before.”

“They make me nervous,” Stone said, scowling.

Rooney threw a towel in his face, smiling at the big man.

“Everything makes you nervous.”

He walked out and made his way to the mess hall. Halfway there, he was met by Leslie Dozier, the geological specialist of the science team. Leslie was thirty years old and one of the most attractive black females he had ever seen. Her complexion was a dark bronze and her skin was smooth as velvet. Rooney was always attracted to black women, and he was highly attracted to her. At times on the trip he had thought about what it would be like to have her as his ‘special’ companion. She had been mostly aloof with the male members of the team, but it was already known that none of the crew had spouses or significant others. That was a prerequisite for being selected. It stood to reason that if she was thirty, and didn’t have a man, it could be that she didn’t want one.

“Hello, lieutenant,” she said, smiling with a perfect set of teeth.

“Ms. Dozier,” he greeted. “How are you today? It is day, isn’t it?”

Leslie laughed as they walked to the mess hall together.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “I’ve lost track myself, and we haven’t been gone two months yet.”

They walked the rest of the distance in silence. When they entered the mess hall, they found it to be occupied. Geraldo Flores was a laboratory specialist/analyst with a wide range of expertise. He was thirty-four years old, short and stodgy. Seated across from him was Stephanie Trotter. Trotter was fifty years old, the elder of the group. She served the science team in several categories, the most important of which was as the medical doctor. Included in her resume’ was microbiology expert, analyst, laboratory technician and research specialist. At one of the other small tables were Adam Davis and Delmar Richardson, drinking a cup of coffee. Rooney and Leslie walked over to the food counter and looked at the selections. Rooney quickly chose the tube labeled ‘Chicken Casserole’. Leslie grabbed the cheeseburger tube. They walked to one of the two remaining vacant tables and sat down to ‘enjoy’ their dinner.

Rooney twisted the cap from the tube and squeezed the nutrient paste into his mouth. After more than a month, he had gotten used to the gritty texture of the food. There had been times on the battlefield that he would have begged for something like this, so he was simply grateful to have it. Leslie, on the other hand, was not impressed with it.

“I can’t believe they have the shameless nerve to call this ‘cheeseburger’ flavor,” she complained, smiling as she tried to swallow.

“I believe it’s the only restaurant in town,” Delmar smirked.

“That may be,” Leslie said. “But they still need to kill the cook.”

Trotter was amused by the statement and turned to Leslie.

“My dear,” Trotter said, tongue in cheek. “A lot of care went into that tube. I find it hard to believe you have a distaste for Acesulfame Potassium, Acetic Acid, Benzoic Acid, Gamma- tocopherol, Orthophenyl phenol….”

“Stop!” Leslie said, laughing with the others. “I may never suck on a tube again.” “Please,” Davis injected. “Say it isn’t so.”

All of them began to laugh as Leslie’s face reacted to the inference of what she just said.

She put a hand over her mouth in embarrassment, and Rooney was grinning at her.

“Open mouth, insert foot,” he said.

“I see I’ll have to watch what I say from now on,” she laughed.

“Tell me, lieutenant,” Davis said, changing the course of the conversation. “Why do you think they sent soldiers on this mission?”

Rooney turned on the bench to face him. He shrugged and slightly shook his head.

“My orders were to protect the members of the mission crew and support the expedition in such a way as to see to its success.”

“Protect us from what?” Davis asked. “From what we have seen and learned, this is a benign planet.”

“Benign, Mr. Davis?” Rooney questioned. “I think that remains to be seen. Robots and probes can only do what they’re programmed to do. They don’t have the ability to reason, discern and most importantly, be suspicious. Many times that which looks harmless can be what is most deadly.”

Davis nodded and smiled.

“Typical soldier mentality,” he accused. “If you can’t explain it, shoot it.”

Only Trotter and Dozier didn’t laugh at the statement. Rooney smiled back, but his eyes narrowed.

“No, sir,” he defended, going into his professional soldier mode. “That is not the mentality of the Federal Guard, sir. It is my sincere desire this mission be carried out to its successful conclusion without engaging any form of enemy. What you should be grateful for, sir, is that you have people like me with you that, should the need arise, will not hesitate to engage and risk our lives for yours. And, sir, we will do that without question.”

“That’s all very commendable, lieutenant,” Davis said. “I seriously doubt, however, that if any real danger were to expose itself, that only three men could protect us all.”

Rooney stood from the table and threw his head back. He brought the tube up to his mouth and with a firm hand squeezed the rest of the contents into it. Rooney’s cheeks bulged as he chewed. With one massive swallow the nutrient went down. He walked over to a waste disposal and dropped the empty tube inside. All eyes were on him, waiting to hear what he had to say. He turned to Davis.

“You would be surprised what three members of the Federal Guard can do,” he said.

Rooney turned and walked out of the room. Trotter was not happy with Davis.

“Are you crazy?” She asked. “In case you didn’t notice, that’s a soldier. As medical officer on this mission I’ve read his file. The man’s a machine wrapped in muscle and flesh.”

“Quite right, Dr. Trotter,” Davis said, finishing his cup of coffee. “He is a soldier. That means he’s probably the most disciplined among us. But, in my mind, his skills are the least required on this mission.”

“The only thing I can say to that, Mr. Davis,” Trotter countered. “Is that I hope you’re

right.”

Leslie rose and quickly left the room. She walked quickly down the hall and caught up with Rooney. She took him by an arm and stopped his progress.

“I’m sorry about what happened back there,” she offered.

“Why are you sorry?” He asked, confused as to the nature of the apology. “People like

Davis exist in every nook and corner of our society. They fear men like me, and rightfully so. But, not because I’m dangerous to him. He fears me because we come from different worlds and he doesn’t understand what type of person it takes to be me. He doesn’t understand that one day, I could be the best friend he has.”

“You mean to tell me you weren’t offended by his statements?” Leslie was the one confused, now.

“Offended?” Rooney said, grinning. “He’s a citizen. I exist so he can say what he wants to say and believe what he wants to believe. Even here, I exist to protect that. I’m glad he knows enough about what I represent to say whatever’s on his mind.”

Leslie studied him closely. She had never met a soldier before. He was obviously a complex man, but with singular purpose. His mind had been trained to follow orders. His body had been sculpted to carry them out, even if it meant his life. In a strange way, she was moderately attracted to him. Leslie thought how while he was near, she would always feel safe.

**********

The worst part of the trip for all of the mission team was not being in stasis. While the majority of them were in a suspended state, a severely trimmed down skeleton crew was kept active. There were so few of them the boredom could only be described as mind bending. Even though they had the BOB’s to assist with any problems that may occur, Brubaker felt it prudent to be sure that humans were still in control and knew what was going on.

A daily report was maintained by the flight crew and the security team. Austin had quietly requested that Brubaker give him first watch and put Stone and Dustin in stasis first. He had no problem with it, since Austin approached him as a subordinate and submitted his request in a professional manner.

Rooney used the time to keep his body as fit as he could. As usual, the BOB’s were present to watch his workouts. When he wasn’t lifting the homemade weights, he was sharpening his analytical skills by playing chess with BOB-1. Everyone was able to bring one personal item with them, as long as it met the weight requirement. Rooney brought his chess set. Chess wasn’t in the robot’s original programming, but Rooney changed that with a quick download. The lieutenant was an accomplished player, having won second place in a Swiss System tournament among fellow Federal Guard chess aficionados. He was considered a Class A player, but BOB-1caught on fast. Not once did Austin find a way to beat him. When he wasn’t busy with other duties, BOB-2 would come to watch.

Brubaker and Riggs were active at the same time Rooney was. Constance Lehman, the science team’s environmental specialist was active as well. She was twenty-seven years old, brunette, Caucasian and the most beautiful woman on board. Her secondary purpose was to assist Leslie with her geological studies, as Constance also held a degree in that field. In addition, there was a forty-four year old Latino named Julio Martinez, the botanist. The last person still active among them was forty year old Herman Stocker. He was the ship’s psychologist, sent to observe and study the crew’s reactions to all they experienced on the trip to A.S.P. and back. He was a proper and well-spoken man of African heritage, but born in the Federal States and dedicated to its cause. He was very short, rising to only five and a half feet tall, and he was extremely unattractive to all. But his mannerisms and soothing voice quickly made others feel at ease with him. Rooney liked talking to him. Both men would meet in the mess hall and speak of things philosophical. He quickly decided that he liked Stocker, and would keep him close as an adviser, if needed.

Several weeks into Rooney’s watch, he took BOB-1 into the security control center and hooked him up to the main frame. He wanted to see what programs BOB-1 possessed and what his full capabilities were. The BOB’s came with a complete manual, but Rooney didn’t trust anything that someone else told him. He felt better about things after conducting a study for himself.

The BOB’s were marvels of engineering and science. They’re nuclear powered energy source was state-of-the-art. BOB-1’s hard drive was enormous and it had been packed with

programs that allowed him to perform almost any task necessary aboard the Atraeus. Rooney downloaded his own diagnostic program and encrypted the password so he would be the only one able to access it. The program was one of his making. The diagnostic would run a memory file and record all the programs that were in BOB-1’s hard drive. If BOB-1 were to be tampered with, the diagnostic would implement an order for him to locate one of the soldiers and say, ‘Pawn to King Four’, then it would deactivate. Rooney liked to call this preventative action. Once he was through with BOB-1, he did the same with BOB-2. For good measure, he installed one more little secret.

It wasn’t that Rooney believed trouble was ahead or that anything was amiss. His experience and training was one of the things that drove him. Counter-espionage techniques and prevention of same was in his resume’. Rooney hadn’t survived this long by not covering all the bases he could think of. He was fairly confident in Stone and Dustin’s loyalty, and would seriously doubt anyone’s ability at turning one or both against him. However, the BOB’s were also designated as part of his security detail. Rooney well knew that all it would take to turn one of them would be a simple program change.

When it came right down to it, he downloaded the program because of his visits with

Stocker. The resident psychologist and he spoke at length about the frailties of man and the ‘as yet’ unknown affects deep space travel may have on people. Stocker related the well documented research that had been done over the years concerning the stress of being in an enclosed space with a small number of people for long periods of time. He told Rooney the results could be cognitive decline, increase in interpersonal conflicts and severe depression. Stocker jokingly suggested that he was probably Rooney’s most valuable security team member. If psychological problems manifested among the crew, however minor, they could easily escalate to cause a catastrophe. With him on the watch, Stocker suggested, Rooney might receive an early warning that would allow them to deflate any serious issues.

What worried Rooney the most was one of the last things Stocker told him. He said that all of them were selected based primarily on being free of psychological and psychiatric issues. Then he added that anyone working in a demanding environment in a small, isolated group for several years runs the risk of experiencing some kind of mental strain, if not an outright problem.

Rooney thought about that for days. The only thing he could do at the time was make sure the BOB’s didn’t fall prey to one of the crew who might go off the reservation and try to manufacture some ‘friends’. He made a mental note to school Stone and Dustin on what he had learned. All three of them had been conditioned to see beyond current circumstances and find solutions for every problem encountered. The only problem Rooney didn’t think there was a solution for was death. Apart from that, there were solutions. They may not be perfect and ideal solutions, but there would be at least one solution he and everyone else could live with.

After three months, Stone was revived and checked out by BOB-2. He was the fill-in doctor while Trotter was in stasis. It took several hours for him to feel well enough to walk. Rooney was glad to see him. There would now be someone on board he had something in common with he could talk to. It would be short lived, though. Rooney was scheduled for stasis in another 72 hours. He utilized every moment to get Stone up to date on what he had done with the BOB’s and his conversations with Stocker.

Brubaker was also scheduled for stasis at the same time as Rooney. Commander Fisk had been awakened and would be taking over for him. The four men had a staff meeting to discuss the current status of the mission.

“We’re actually doing much better on schedule,” Brubaker said. “We’re now holding steady at .995, but computer projections show we might hit .998 by the end of our first year.”

“Do the projections go any farther than that?” Fisk asked, looking at the printed readout. “Actually, they do,” Brubaker smiled. “Final tally says .999 might be possible by year

two.”

Fisk looked up, surprised. He, too, smiled.

“That’s excellent news,” he said. “That means we might arrive by year three. We could shave six months off our schedule.”

Brubaker extended a hand of caution.

“Yeah, well,” he said. “That’s if these projections turn out to be correct and if everything keeps working.”

“Initial projection was this thing wouldn’t go much over .89,” Austin said. “We were prepared for a longer stretch. Even if it turns out to stay at .99, that’s a bargain compared to what we were looking at.”

“The good news is we have dual redundancy on generators, oxygen equipment, deflectors, etcetera,” Brubaker commented. “Even if we have some equipment malfunctions, I don’t see it becoming an issue. We should keep right on going until we get there.”

“Speaking of the deflectors,” Fisk said. “Any issues on debris out here?”

“None to speak of,” Brubaker answered. “The APD has been the most active, as we knew it would be. The LOD has only gone operational three times. The biggest object was over a meter in diameter. It locked on and pushed it out of the way just as it was designed to do.”

“What was the closest proximity?” Fisk asked, going back to the readout.

“10,000 kilometers,” Brubaker said.

“Whew,” Stone exhaled. “That’s close.”

“Too close,” Fisk replied. “Especially when we keep on picking up speed. What was the speed when that incident occurred.”

“.85,” Brubaker answered.

Fisk made some quick calculations and then looked at everyone.

“If we maintain .99, the LOD will be cutting it close if we encounter an object that size.

If it’s three times that size, we’re history.”

“Not necessarily,” Brubaker argued. “The LOD works on a wide range. The object was not on a trajectory for collision.”

“But what if a larger one is?” Austin asked.

“Then Fisk is right,” Brubaker chuckled. “It’s game over if we’re doing .99.”

“That takes us back to what we were prepared for when we started,” Austin said. “Maybe we should keep the speed at a manageable level. Better we get there in in three and a half going a little slower than not getting there doing top velocity.”

“I thought about that,” Brubaker countered. “But we’re assuming the LOD worked at its maximum potential during that incident. I checked with the BOB’s. They ran a diagnostic on the

LOD and calculated it only utilized 35% of its capability to move the object to a safe distance.

Now, if they’re correct…which I believe they are…that means the LOD computer analyzed what it would take to move it out of the way and generated only the power necessary to perform the operation. I say we keep letting the Astraeus gain speed and allow our deflectors to do their job.

We can have the BOB’s monitor them on a constant basis to make sure they’re working at maximum efficiency. I’m with you lieutenant. Better to get there in eight than it is in ten.”

“Any word from Earth?” Stone asked.

“Yes,” Brubaker replied, glad to change the subject. “The quantum non-locality communication system is working as designed. Mission control is ecstatic about how things are going. The government couldn’t be more pleased with us.”

The rest of the meeting concerned food and water supplies, the stasis rotation schedule and Stocker’s report on the crew. Everything they discussed was given a code GREEN, meaning there were no contingencies to speak of. Once the meeting was adjourned, Rooney and Stone went back to the security control center.

“So, how is it sleeping for three months?” Austin was curious.

“It’s weird, man,” Stone said. “My dreams were the most real I’ve ever had. It’s the waking up that’s the hard part. I had a headache for hours.”

“The nanobots took care of that,” Austin said, smiling.

“Yeah. I don’t like those little shits running around inside of me.”

“Those little shits are repairing you.”

“That’s what we’ve been told, anyway,” Stone said.

Austin’s attention was distracted by a red light that started blinking on his console. He reached over and pushed a button. A monitor came on, displaying the Federal States government crest. Underneath it was a flashing caption that read, CLASSIFIED MESSAGE.

He quickly put on a headset with microphone and flipped three toggle switches. The monitor went off and he waited for a few seconds. Finally, he heard a voice.

“Lieutenant Rooney,” it said. “This message is for your ears only. The Sub-Saharan League has launched a spacecraft from South Africa. Our satellites tracked it until the vessel exited Earth’s orbit. Our best intel is the ship reached a distance of 100,000 miles from Earth and then vanished from our sensors. It’s possible the Astraeus’ destination has been compromised.

This is top secret information and you will be updated as we learn more. Federal Guard

Command and Control, out.”

Rooney took off the headset and looked at Stone.

“What is it?” The big man asked, impatient.

The lieutenant reached forward and turned the toggle switches back to their original positions. Leaning back in the chair he returned his gaze to Stone, a serious look on his face.

“Looks like we might have company.”

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