Project Aura

23

The helicopter carrying Valika and Cesar landed on the rear deck of the Yuri Gagarin. They quickly off-loaded and were met by Tanya Zenata. Cesar wasted no time on pleasantries.

“Have the modifications been completed?” he demanded.

“Yes, sir,” Zenata responded.

“The computer?” he asked.

“We’re putting it on-line as per Professor Souris’s instructions. She left it programmed. All that is needed is for someone to initiate the program.”

Cesar smacked his hands together. “Excellent.”

He headed forward, leaving Valika and Zenata.

“What is going on?” Zenata asked. “What does he have planned?”

Valika had a weapons case in each hand. “It is best for you not to know.”

Souris was back in her body, inside the helicopter, but she was still connected to Aura. A quick systems check told her power was very low and she would have to shut it down soon, but she was still relishing the contact she had made with the Psychic Warrior in the other computer. She had felt the man’s essence, an experience unlike anything she had ever encountered before. Reluctantly, she returned to the real plane and shut down Aura. “To the airport,” she ordered the pilot.

“What happened?” McFairn demanded.

General Mitchell was at the back of the main control room for Space Command, trying to make sense of the various reports his people were giving him.

“Something got into the computer,” Mitchell said. “We’re off-line and sealed in.”

“ ‘Something? Like what?”

A young officer ran up and gave the general several computer printouts. McFairn waited impatiently as the general read.

“We don’t know,” Mitchell finally said, sparing her a moment before going back to the paperwork.

McFairn felt a trickle of sweat go down the center of her back. “What did it access other than the DefCon Four alert and knocking your mainframe off-line?”

“Damn,” Mitchell swore as he flipped a page. “It got into the DefCon Four codes.”

For a moment McFairn thought she had been found out, but she realized it was worse than that as Mitchell continued.

“Which codes?”

“Whoever did this got the unlock code for something in MILSTAR.” Mitchell frowned. “Why would someone want that?”

McFairn knew exactly why someone would want that, and the pieces fell into place-the Ring experimenting using a satellite as a retransmitter and now stealing the unlock code. They were going to appropriate the system and use it with Aura.

“How long will it take to get the computer back online and get communication with the outside world?” McFairn demanded.

General Mitchell shook his head. “We don’t know. We hope in a couple of hours, but this is unprecedented.”

McFairn checked her watch. A couple of hours. By then CS-MILSTAR would be deployed and on-line.

“What about the shuttle?” she asked. “If we’re off-line, who’s ground base control?”

“ Houston would automatically have taken over,” Mitchell said.

“I need an outside line,” McFairn said. “ASAP.”

“We’re doing the best we can,” Mitchell said.

“Do better.”

“If the code has been compromised, we can’t take any chances,” Dalton said. “We stop both. HAARP and the Ring/Mithrans.”

“How?” Jackson asked as she tossed aside the towel she had been using to wipe embryonic fluid off her face. “The Ring’s got some sort of weapon they can use against us as Psychic Warriors.”

“And HAARP is shielded on the virtual plane,” Mentor noted. “We have no influence with Washington. We’re helpless.”

Dalton had been considering the problems as he was warmed up and brought out of the isolation tank. “How long until the CS-MILSTAR satellite is on-line?” he asked Mentor.

“Two hours, five minutes.”

“They were leaving Saba,” Dalton said. “And the psyche I ran into…” He paused as he mentally searched through the various images he had picked up. “Naldo said something about a ship. I saw a ship in the psyche I ran into. A large one. With big satellite dishes taking up most of the deck space.”

Mentor was already at a computer, typing. “Fortunately we’re not locked up like Space Command. We tap into the commo trunk going both ways, but we’re outside the complex, not under control of their mainframe, so we still have an outside link.” He continued typing, then paused. “Here it is. The Yuri Gagarin. It’s Russian. According to the CIA, it’s currently located about two hundred miles from Saba.”

Dalton nodded as he peered over Mentor ’s shoulder at the image on the screen. “That’s it. That’s what I saw.”

Hammond was also looking. “They could use that as a mobile HAARP-type platform. Those dishes would be perfect.”

“We know where the Ring is now,” Dalton said, “and we know where HAARP is.”

“In opposite directions from here,” Jackson noted.

“And what about Barnes?” Hammond threw in. The body of the third member of their PW team floated in its isolation tank. “He’s out there somewhere, but I can’t reach him.”

“Keep trying,” Dalton said.

“I will.”

“I’ll take care of the ship.” Dalton turned to Jackson. “You’ve got HAARP.”

“How?” Jackson asked.

“We don’t have time to get there any other way than via virtual jumps,” Dalton said.

“But-” Jackson began.

Dalton halted her by holding up his hand and turning to Mentor. “You said we’re tapped into Space Command’s commo. Can we order the shuttle to abort the mission?”

“No. We don’t have the proper authorization codes.”

“What do we have codes for?” Dalton asked.

Mentor frowned. “What do you mean?”

“This thing was founded as an alternate command post for the President, for God’s sake,” Dalton said, slapping the side of the computer. “We’ve got to have at least access to all National Command Authority functions, even if we don’t have the authorizations, right?”

Mentor shook his head. “We don’t have any control. The President would bring his own authorizations here.”

Dalton had figured that would be the case. “Then we have to get some help that doesn’t require authorization, right?”

“What kind of help?” Mentor asked.

“We have access to both normal MILSTAR communications channels and GPS, right?” Dalton pressed.

Mentor was thoughtful. “Yes.”

Dalton grabbed a chair and indicated for Jackson to pull one close. “I have a plan if we can find the right pieces to play.”

Souris transferred from the helicopter to Cesar’s Lear at Colorado Springs. As the plane accelerated down the runway, she contacted the Gagarin via SATPhone.

“Yes?” Cesar answered on the first ring.

“I have the code.”

“Give it to me.”

Souris rattled off the letters and numbers.

“I’ve got it,” Cesar acknowledged.

“I will be there in six hours,” Souris said.

“It will be over by then,” Cesar said.

“I know.” A smile crossed Souris ’s face. “I know.” She had her laptop on her knees and was typing in what she had learned about the Psychic Warrior program. Aura no longer interested her, nor did Cesar. She cut the connection.

McFairn stood in front of the large stainless steel vault door. Her pulse was racing and she forced herself to slow her breathing before she fainted from hyperventilation. A part of her was almost grateful that she couldn’t send the code to Boreas. But that part was overwhelmed by the knowledge that the code had been stolen; regardless of how much she agreed with Boreas, she knew that she would rather be on his side than whoever his enemy was.

Dalton felt the embryonic fluid around his feet, then legs as he climbed into his isolation tube. The process was as brutal as all the previous ones, but his focus was on the upcoming mission. They had found the right piece for Jackson to use in Alaska, but hadn’t been able to find him anything near the Gagarin. He was going in on his own and hoping he could come up with something once he was on the ship. At least it wasn’t virtually shielded.

“Focus on the white dot,” Hammond ’s voice echoed inside his head.