Space Hoax

14 ALL IN

With a notebook in hand, Peter opened the door to Walter Going’s lavish office. This was his first meeting in the office since coming on board with EarthOrbit. When Chris informed Peter of the conference, he expressed its purpose was to develop an aggressive strategic plan moving forward. With only a few days under his belt, Peter hoped to be able to contribute and not be just a spectator.

Up to this point, Peter hadn’t found anything suspicious or out of the ordinary at EarthOrbit. Of course Chris was his prime suspect if any type of conspiracy was going on. Peter needed to dig deeper in his investigation and planned on snooping around his boss’s office later that evening, once the building was empty.

Peter charged in and noticed Chris was sitting in a chair with his back to him, having a discussion with Walter, who was at his desk. Concerned he might be late, Peter took a quick glance at his watch. He was still a few minutes early. Walter interrupted Chris when he spotted Peter. “Come have a seat, Peter.”

Peter walked across the large office directly to the empty seat next to Chris. “I hope I’m not late.”

“Nope. Chris got here a little early to talk about a few things.”

Peter looked over and acknowledged Riddick, making a conscious effort not to sneer. As he settled into his chair a shiny new Rolex on Chris’s arm caught his eye.

Walter leaned back. “So are you all settled in?”

“I’m getting there. Everyone has been very helpful.”

“Great. So what do you think of our little company so far?”

“Impressive. Your equipment looks to be on par with SpaceQuest.

I’m especially pleased with your corps of astronauts.”

“I’m glad. I feel our company should employ only the finest if we are going to be one of the first commercial companies to put astronauts into space. I’m a firm believer the men and women flying our equipment need to be the cream of the crop. You never know when an emergency might happen during flight, and we want the best at the controls who can handle any situation and get themselves back safely.”

“They’re definitely some of the best.”

Walter straightened up. “Did you get a good look at Zeus II?”

A senior engineer had escorted Peter around the company. When they visited the warehouse, he was given a detailed description of both the rocket lying on its side as well as their capsule, Iris. “I did. Those Soviet engines look impressive. I was pleased to hear the rocket can fly on just two of those. You never know when one might fail.”

Walter smiled. “True. However, those babies have been thoroughly tested. I’m certain they’ll do the job.” The president grabbed a file and placed it in front of him.

Sensing they were getting down to business, Peter set his notebook on his lap and opened it.

A serious look crossed Walter’s face as he homed in on Peter. “I’ve just learned the government has approved SpaceQuest to launch a rocket with NASA-supplied dummies. Each one of those dummies will have various sensors to determine exactly what astronauts will experience during flight. They plan to launch in forty-five days. If they pass this test, their rocket will be man-rated and ready to launch their first astronauts. SpaceQuest will probably have the NASA contract locked up. We are losing this battle, and we need to make a bold move to get back in the race. Chris and I have put our heads together. I am convinced our best option is to launch a manned rocket to the ISS as soon as possible.”

Peter was shocked at the company’s sudden aggressiveness and looked at Chris to see him nodding in agreement.

Walter arched an eyebrow in Peter’s direction. “What do you think?”

Peter didn’t know what to think. “Sir, since I’ve basically just joined the team, I’m probably not qualified to answer that question.”

“True, but you’ve done this once, so I value your input. If you were to give me a logical reason why we shouldn’t go, I would seriously consider it.”

“Has NASA approved such a flight?”

“Not exactly. Though we have passed the same tests and inspections as SpaceQuest, NASA has been leery in assigning us a firm launch date. Their worry is the fact that we launch out of Nevada and fly over land. I understand their concern, but they’re not giving us a chance. We have met or exceeded every test thrown at us. My fear is if we continue to wait, we’ll lose.”

Chris turned to Peter and chimed in. “SpaceQuest took a gamble putting you into space, and look where they are now.”

Neither man knew that NASA had supported that mission, and Peter couldn’t tell them. If they did know, they probably would reconsider launching without NASA’s blessing. Though he struggled rationally with the idea, he still had to choose his words carefully. “It’s definitely taking a gamble. If you are not successful, failure to reach your declared objective could kill this company.”

Walter looked out the window as he stroked his chin. A heavy silence settled over them. He slowly turned. “The way I look at it, SpaceQuest did take a gamble sending you up. If Allen was unsuccessful with that bet, his company would have been ruined. I think we have no choice. We are either all in, or we leave the table.”

Peter had an uneasy feeling about the plan. He considered what was at stake for the young company. He wondered if launching so soon was all Chris’s idea, driven by some hidden agenda. “I’m not so sure about all of this. Do we even have a rocket ready?”

“Yes. The one you saw is ready. It just needs to be transferred to our Nevada launch site.”

Peter doubted the ISS would allow the unapproved spacecraft to dock. “Do you plan on docking?”

“No. We would fly within fifty meters. Just have our men give the ISS astronauts a little wave.”

Chris raised an open hand. “I was thinking a little more about all of this, and if we really want to make a big splash, how about we also do a spacewalk? The spacesuits are ready. This will prove we’re capable of servicing satellites.”

Peter pushed his chair back in shock, surprised by the suggestion. Walter’s eyes widened as he stared at Chris. This was obviously something he hadn’t considered. Stillness hovered over them as Walter seemed to be weighing the impact of pulling off such a historic feat. “Are you sure we’re ready?”

Chris answered brazenly, “Absolutely.”

Walter leaned back in his chair and put both hands behind his head as he looked up at the ceiling. “Wow, that would really show the world something. I like it.”

That they were ready to do a spacewalk was news to Peter, let alone launching a rocket so soon.

Walter pitched his body forward and directed his attention toward Peter. “Well if we do this, I want to launch before SpaceQuest does. Do you think you can have your astronauts ready by then?”

Peter hadn’t yet observed their training to know exactly where they were in readiness. He shook his head. “Again, I’m not sure, but they’re a pretty impressive group. I think if we put in some long hours, possibly.”

“Who would you recommend for the two-man crew?”

Peter rubbed his hands on his legs. “Probably Jesse and Blake.”

Walter glanced at Chris. “Do you agree with that?”

“Yes, those are our two best, and I would suggest Blake doing the spacewalk.”

Peter piped up, “Has he trained for that?”

Chris’s face took on a self-assured expression. “Yes, but he would need more. All we want him to do is exit and crawl a short distance along the spacecraft. Something similar to China’s first EVA.”

Walter chuckled. “And maybe like them, our man proudly waves his country’s flag.”

Chris lifted both arms. “Why not?”

Walter shook his head. “I like all of this, and at this point I say it’s a Go. However, I have an open-door policy. If at any point anyone has concrete reason to believe the mission will fail, I want to be told about it right away. If it is a valid concern, I’ll immediately pull the plug. I want to win this thing, not drive this company into the ground.”

Peter gave a cautious nod.

“All right, let’s do it. Let’s set a tentative launch date for September 21^st. I want to make this a spectacle. I suggest we get the press involved shortly after launch. I want the world to see our success and make it that much tougher for NASA not to award us that contract.” Walter closed the file in front of him. “I’ll get the final approval from the owner before coordinating with our Nevada launch site.” He stood. “All right, gentlemen, we have just pushed in all of our chips. Let’s make this gamble pay off.”

PETER SAT AT his desk intently studying the manual on the Iris spacecraft. He found the capsule had many similarities to the Galileo, including its control panel layout. He looked up for a moment to rest his eyes and was shocked to see darkness had settled outside his window. He glanced down at his watch. Wow, already 8:50. Peter had been so engaged, he wasn’t sure if anyone was left in the building. Since his main purpose for staying late was to snoop around Chris’s office, he decided to take a relaxing stroll through the building to see if anyone was left.

After walking through most of the complex, Peter found the place empty. The last section to inspect was Mahogany Row, where Chris’s office was, along with some of the other bigwigs. As he casually strolled down the empty hallway, he nonchalantly peeked out of the corner of his eye into the offices he passed, looking for any sign of life. The corridor was eerily quiet; the only sound was his footsteps. He stopped midway at a counter that had a coffee maker. He yelled out in a booming voice that vibrated through the large corridor. “Anyone here? I’m going to make some coffee. Would anyone like some?”

A strong voice with burly overtones answered from behind. “What are you still doing here?”

Peter jerked around to see Walter approaching, briefcase in hand. “Oh, hey, Walter. I’m just working late trying to get up to speed on Iris. There’s still a lot I need to learn about the spacecraft, especially if I am going to help my team be ready to fly by nine twenty-one.”

Walter smiled as he patted Peter hard on the back. “Well, don’t work too late.” He continued down the hallway toward the stairs.

“I won’t. Any idea if anyone else is left in the office who might want some coffee? Otherwise, I’m making just one cup.”

Walter raised his hand as he kept on walking. “You and I are the only fools left, and I’m out of here.” The president then turned and started down the staircase, his steps softly echoing out of the opening. A loud voice came roaring back, “Good night.”

Peter cupped his hands around his mouth. “Good night.” He went back to making his coffee. Once he had a cup of fresh brewed java in his hands, he walked back to his desk, again casing out the place to verify no one was left. He decided to spend another ten minutes reviewing the Iris manual, allowing Walter enough time to be out of the parking lot and long gone.

The unexpected vibration of his cell phone rattling on his desk broke the stillness in his office. He touched the screen. He smiled to see a text from Anya. Please call me around 11pm your time. I want to talk.

Knowing it was early in the morning for her, he wondered what was on her mind. He quickly answered back. Will do.

She texted back. Thanks. Love you.

He answered. Ditto.

Peter set the phone back on his desk. He looked at his watch as a cocky grin shot across his face. It’s time to play Mr. Spy. He pulled out a couple of spy tools from his briefcase and placed them in his pocket before walking directly to Mahogany Row. To confirm no one showed up in the area while he was gone, he went back to the coffee machine and called out again. “Anyone here? I’m going to make some coffee.” He stood still and listened, nothing. He grabbed a small wrapped candy from a dish before turning around and leaning against the counter. He casually unwrapped the mint as he eyed the hallway from side to side. Feeling confident he was the only one left, he popped the small treat in his mouth. Time to get to work. Instantly the theme music from Mission Impossible started playing in his head as he treaded softly down the hallway.

He first turned on the lights of a handful of offices in a row, including Chris’s. Any single lit office could draw suspicion from the parking lot, including the glow from a computer screen. Though the cleaning crew typically worked a later shift, having a few offices lit would give the impression they were there.

After turning on the last light, he strolled over to the storage room at the end of the hallway. He grabbed the vacuum and rolled the machine back to Chris’s office. After entering the well-lit room he left the door slightly ajar. He then rolled the vacuum to the center of the room by the couch and plugged it in, to further the cleaning crew illusion.

He quickly crossed to Chris’s desk and sat down. He was stunned to see Chris’s Rolex sitting in plain view. What an idiot leaving a $20,000 watch lying around. Peter was tempted to snatch it just to piss off the old man, but he knew better than to leave any clue someone had been in the office, and didn’t want to get some cleaning lady fired. Besides, it was probably a fake if it was left so carelessly out in the open. He slipped on a pair of latex gloves before pushing in a SID-issued USB thumb-drive into the computer. He promptly booted up the unit. While waiting for the program on the thumb-drive to locate the computer’s passwords, he started searching through the desk.

The first few drawers had various business related stuff, nothing of interest. He shuffled through some business cards, but all seemed legit. The bottom file drawer was locked. He bent down to see it had a basic pin-and-tumbler lock.

He pulled out a pick set from his pants pocket and set the leather case on the desk. He unsnapped the pouch and pulled out a tension wrench, along with what he suspected was the right-sized pick. He always prided himself with the speed he could open such locks, usually kicking the ass of his fellow CIA agents. He glanced at his watch to challenge himself. Start now. He then slipped the wrench into the small keyhole to determine the direction the key would spin. Left. He kept constant pressure on the tool before he quickly slipped in the metal pick over the wrench. He began to fiddle with the instrument, expertly adjusting each pin within the lock casing, starting with the one farthest back. He listened for a faint clicking sound as he worked each obstacle. The pressure he applied to the wrench insured the pins wouldn’t fall back down and ruin his progress. A small bead of sweat started to trickle down the center of his forehead, tickling him. After a short moment of struggling with the last pin, the wrench turned, unlocking the drawer. Yeah, baby. He wiped the sweat off his forehead before smugly looking down at his watch. Fifty-five seconds, not bad.

He pulled open the file drawer and did a quick scan of the files. He read labels like Expense Reports, Aerospace Companies, NASA… etc. He saw nothing alarming until his fingers walked across a file labeled Personal. He pulled out the file and opened it. Inside were some letters from Chris’s kids, the pink slip for his car, a mortgage quote. He was about to close up the folder before his eyes widened. He found an old tattered paper labeled Gambling Log. Peter remembered Gavin informing him that Chris had a serious gambling problem. Peter studied the paper. On top was a bank account number. Handwritten entries listed Chris’s winnings and losses over the last couple of years. He was shocked to see entries in the tens of thousands of dollars range. Where the hell does this guy get that kind of money? He pulled out his smart phone and took a picture of the paper.

Peter looked up to see the computer had located the password. He tilted his head in puzzlement when he saw it was Anne, his mother’s name. Thinking the coincidence was strange, he leaned over and pulled out the thumb-drive before rebooting the computer. He resumed examining the paper.

There appeared to be a small list of casinos. All but the bottom two had been scribbled out. Next to each loss was a handwritten comment in pencil saying open, paid, or settled. The word open had obviously been erased and replaced with paid or settled with dates added. Some of the larger losses had been settled rather than paid, many within the last few days. One $15,000 debt was today’s date. With the amounts being so large, Peter was sure Chris was using a credit line at the hotel casinos. He wondered what “settled” meant? Did he do something to pay off those debts? SID would need to do a little research.

The computer had booted and was requesting the password. He shuddered as he typed in Anne, wondering if the name was in any way associated with his mother. Bingo, the password worked. He went back to searching through the personal file while the computer finished booting. Nothing more caught his attention in the folder.

He put the paperwork back and put the file in the exact slot as he found it, then closed the drawer and locked it. He began to do a broad search on the computer, looking for anything suspicious.

Peter’s whole body jolted to attention when a faint sound echoed down the hallway. He turned his head slightly to position his ear toward the cracked doorway. A terrifying revelation hit him that the soft sound was footsteps, which were increasing in intensity. He quickly put the computer in hibernation mode before looking for a place to hide. His only choice was under the large wooden desk. He quickly grabbed his notepad, phone and pick set case before moving out the chair and quietly squeezing down into the dark, cramped space. Steps were fast approaching as he leaned over and pulled the chair slowly in as far as it would go.

His heart stopped when the steps entered the office. Shit. He hoped it was the cleaning lady, possibly coming to retrieve the vacuum. It soon became obvious that the approaching sounds were not from a maid’s soft shoes, but something hard-soled with a heel, possibly cowboy boots, which were Chris’s favorite. The footfalls stopped for a moment in the middle of the room. Peter’s brain went into overdrive trying to come up with a story why he was there. How the hell could he explain hiding under a desk? He couldn’t. Chris would instantly assume he was still with SID and his cover would be blown.

His body went rigid when Chris called out. “Hello?”

The boot sounds resumed and the resonance increased, making it clear the man was walking toward the desk. Peter’s face tightened as he looked down to see a shadow appear through the tiny slit between the floor and the bottom of the front desk panel hiding him. The noise stopped at its closest. Chris’s legs were inches from him on the other side of the thin wooden panel. He didn’t budge. Didn’t even breathe.

“There you are, baby.” Chills ran down Peter’s body as the Rolex wristband slid on the wooden desk just above his head. “I would hate to lose you after what I had to do to get you.”

The jewelry rattled a little before he heard a click; he assumed Chris had put on the watch. Peter let out a deep breath when the man turned and walked back toward the door. His relief was shortlived when Chris’s boots stopped. They seemed to spin on the wooden floor before their thuds indicated the man was returning to his desk. Damn it. Why is he coming back? Does he suspect someone’s here? Was something out of place on the desk? Peter once again held his breath as the footsteps swelled in volume. This time they came around the desk. His pulse shot up when the chair started to move out. He was screwed.

A few intense seconds passed as his heart beat in his throat. Peter could see Chris’s legs from under the desk, but for some reason they didn’t move. After what seemed like an eternity, the extreme silence was broken. “Damn it, she didn’t clean my chair.”

Peter moved only his eyeballs to peer down at the chair’s fabric seat just inches away, and saw a large stain.

“I need to find her and make sure she cleans this.”

Peter relaxed slightly as the chair started coming back into the small space. He squeezed in his legs as tight as he could, allowing the chair to enter without touching him.

He dropped his head and exhaled when the boots moved off toward the door. Chris exited, calling out for the cleaning lady as he marched down the hallway. Peter quickly pushed out the chair. He took the computer out of hibernation mode before shutting it down completely, disappointed he was unable to search the hard drive. Before tip-toeing toward the doorway, he did a swift onceover of the area to double-check everything was as he’d found it.

Chris was deep in the stairwell, still calling out. Peter peeked outside—all clear. He peeled off his gloves as he hustled in the opposite direction from the stairwell. He had to get back to his office before Chris came by there looking for the cleaning lady. His boss would certainly know he was still in the building with the evidence left on his desk and question where he was.

Peter came to the last long stretch toward his office and stopped behind a large pillar. He had to pass through a wide, open area filled with a bunch of employee cubicles. Two main aisles ran parallel through the area. He saw Chris’s head bobbing down one of the aisles as he walked toward the hallway that led to Peter’s office. Once he exited the aisle, it would be too late for Peter to beat him.

Being over six foot, Peter towered over the cubicle walls. To ensure Chris didn’t see him, he bent down and awkwardly raced down the long carpeted stretch, feeling like a duck waddling along. Fortunately, the aisle he was in was closer to his office. When he reached the end of his passageway, he peeked across the room through a crack between two cubicle walls to see Chris was about ten feet from reaching his exit. Peter quickly slipped off his shoes to silence his steps before bolting across the wooden hallway floor, sprinting straight into his office. He raced through his room and practically flew into his chair, tossing his shoes under his desk.

Chris called out. “Hello, anyone here?”

A set of stereo ear plugs lay on his desk. Peter shoved them into his ears before burying his head in the Iris manual. He wiped the sweat off his forehead before taking a huge gulp of oxygen to slow down his speeding heart. With the earphones not connected to anything, he could hear Chris advancing to his office. Soon the man was at his doorway. “Hey, Peter, how come you’re not answering me?”

Peter kept studying, pretending not to hear the man. Chris started to walk in and this time yelled. “Hey, Peter!”

Peter looked up and plastered a surprised look on his face. He took the ear plugs out and innocently answered, “Oh! Hi, Chris.”

“You didn’t hear me calling?”

Peter was struggling not to pant as he spoke. “Sorry, I was listening to music. What are you doing here?”

Chris approached the desk. “I had to pick up something in my office. Have you seen the cleaning lady?”

Peter leaned back in his chair. “I saw her earlier when I went to get some coffee by your office.”

“Yeah, looks like she was working in it. I’ve been trying to find her. I want her to clean off a coffee stain on my chair.” Chris put his hands on his waist and lifted an eyebrow. “So what are you working on?”

Peter started to point toward the manual when a frightening sight made his stomach plunge. The plug-in for his ear plugs was lying in clear view on the desk, an obvious sign he wasn’t listening to music. To prevent Chris from seeing the evidence, he quickly got up. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m studying the Iris manual, and I have a question on the number of thrusters and their locations.” He started walking over toward the detailed schematic of the capsule hanging on his wall.

“So I guess you decided to make yourself comfortable?”

Peter turned to see Chris looking at his socked feet as he followed. He casually grinned. “Yeah, since it was going to be a late night.”

When Peter reached the drawing he couldn’t think of a question. He already knew the machine pretty well. So he played dumb and asked one he knew the answer for. “I wonder if we have redundancy in the system for orbital maneuvering and altitude control.”

Chris grew impatient, shifting from foot to foot. “Absolutely, that’s why we have two thrusters at every location. Each one of those suckers puts out 90 pounds of force, which alone is sufficient to do the job. So we have duel-redundancy in all axes.” Chris took a step back. “You know we need to get you in the simulator. Let’s try to schedule that in the next day or two. I’ve got to get going. If you see the cleaning lady, please tell her about the stain.”

Though Peter did not give a rat’s ass about the stain, he pretended to care as he patted the man’s back when he turned to leave. “Will do, Boss.”