Terminal Reset Omnibus: The Coming of The Wave Page 6

  There had been a few dalliances over the years, but his brief affair with one Dr. Tatania Golovonov was his best-kept secret. Not even his superiors knew of it, he was sure.

  They had met at a conference, in Rio de Janiero, ostensibly to attend lectures surrounding the latest dark matter discoveries, and quasar frequency detection. She was a stunning woman, at that time, and had attracted the notice of almost all of the men attending, and not a few of her female peers. Harding had not actively pursued nor tried to even be anything other than a colleague, but he found himself standing in her hotel room late one rainy evening. Earlier, they had joined a small group and had been discussing astronomy obliquely, eating a light dinner, with only a glass of wine each. Anyone who had listened in would have been undoubtedly bored beyond reproach at the technical jargon, heated arguments over mathematical disparities, and comparison of the techniques for analysis that each had been reading in dry journals. There was not even any detectable sign of flirting; just two people having a nice dinner after a day of boring lectures and networking with other scientists. They circulated evenly with the other members of the party, and no one sensed anything furtive about their presence.

  So, it was with some consternation and mild surprise that he had accepted Tatania’s invitation for a nightcap. He had intended just to have a small cognac, and then retire to his room, call Jennifer, do a little work, and then go to sleep.

  When his plane left Brazil two days later, he now held the memory of two nights of intense passion, unlike any he had ever experienced. Of course, this had to be a once in a lifetime meeting, and not likely to be repeated, since their paths would cross so seldom. Still, he marveled at his own audacity.

  His time with Tatania would always be something he would recollect with fondness, and not without some bittersweet tendency. She was many things Jennifer was not, but he didn’t consciously compare them. If anything, it was the ease of their love-making that surprised him the most. They were very compatible and instinctually knew how best to pleasure each other.

  They had parted friends and colleagues, but nothing more, in his mind. How could there ever be more? That had been years ago…

  He had remained mostly faithful to his wife after that. There had been one prostitute in Las Vegas on an especially stressful trip, and he had felt centered afterward. Another time in Amsterdam where he was certain the occasion was orchestrated as a honeypot, he did not consummate anything. Occasional meetings with colleagues also presented small challenges as the groups tended to be frisky, and not above randy behavior, key parties, or swapping. He deferred and excused himself and Jennifer, and thanked his hosts, but it was not really their scene. These added a bit of vicarious spice to their bedroom, for a time, but eventually they settled into their routine. Harding now knew exactly what to expect, and this made him feel stable in his relationship with Jennifer. He would not admit to being happy, but at least he could feel married.

  Jennifer sat and primped, as she usually did when she was feeling horny. She tried to get him to give her a sip of his drink, but he selfishly wolfed the remaining liquid and put the empty glass on the reading table, missing the doily on purpose. She rose, non-plussed, to pour herself a glass of red wine. Not at all particular, she chose a large Godinger Dublin Crystal highball glass and poured it full of Merlot. She returned to the chair, and sat on the arm, sensuously arching her body to its full effect.

  Harding knew this act well. Once she hit the desired level of inebriation, and he was not too drunk to perform, they would fuck.

  It was a long time ago that this was perceived by either of them as making love. They had been married for seventeen long years. It was his second marriage and her first. His first wife had died senselessly, in a boating accident.

  Jennifer came from an old-monied family that had also been lucky when Silicon Valley was just started.

  Investing in Apple Computers and Oracle had enlarged their fortunes substantially, and Harding always wondered why he had ended up married to the daughter of a man who, despite wealth, had embraced the cloth so fervently.

  The Right Reverend Dr. Giovanni Pasarelli was a brilliant man in his own manner, but his fringe beliefs had alienated him from many of his family. He could be counted on to engender tremendous loyalty or outright disgust. Those who had crossed paths with him over the years respected his political prowess but thought his personal value system questionable. He had multiple marriages and divorces but treated all of his ex-wives royally. His family wealth allowed him to cover-up peccadillos and trifles with staff members from his televangelist business, but they still occurred with alarming frequency. Jennifer’s mother, (wife number three) had died during complications from childbirth, and so she never knew her. The fact that her father spoke highly of her now dead mother was the only indication she had that the man could actually feel love. For many years, she had doubted he cared for her as his daughter, but certain events had convinced her that, while not a perfect man, he did have moments of genuine compassion and empathy. Her time spent as a volunteer in his mission gave her a deeper understanding of him as a man, and also as a leader.

  His personality was such that many charities fell over themselves to collaborate with his Mission of God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit Ministries.

  Interaction with Dr. Pasarelli always exacted a toll on the faithful, but, much like other great men, he traveled life unscathed by scandal, and untroubled by foibles that had destroyed lesser ( and less wealthy) individuals.

  Jennifer decided that sexual poutiness was going to work this evening, and seductively bent so that Harding could notice that she was not wearing a bra. Her breasts had held up well over the course of the marriage, and he felt a stir, not unpleasantly.

  He reconsidered his earlier selfishness with the Rob Roy, and put his arm around her waist, drawing her closer. He felt only a little guilty that his erection was partially due to his earlier reminiscence regarding Tatania.

  Jennifer’s breath was tinged with the alcoholic scent of the Merlot, and her blonde hair swirled a bit as she moved onto his lap. She set down the highball glass on the floor next to the chair, as The Beast, not the least bit interested in either of them, walked past, tail high in the air.

  She looked into his eyes, and Harding knew they were moving into the foreplay phase of the evening. She was sultry, and her lips parted slightly as she nuzzled him. They hugged and rubbed at each other for a minute or so, then she bent to pick up the wine. Jennifer sipped at the rim, and Harding noticed how her mouth curled and her lips stuck slightly to the glass. It was very sensuous, and she took her time sipping. She swallowed, and Harding imagined other fluids in her mouth. He was definitely becoming aroused now, and he reached across her body to cup her right breast. She gasped a little, as she always did. It was part of the act. It was her part to pretend to care about him and the coming sex. It always worked, he noted wryly.

  They decided to move to the bedroom, and afterward, he lay in the bed, sweaty and panting. She lit a cigarette for both of them, and after only one drag, he put his out.

  She was a demanding and talented lover, and never failed to orgasm. Even on occasions when he could not entirely keep up his end of the bargain, she would finish. Sometimes, she would let him help, but not always.

  They lay in the firelight reflecting from the mirrors, and he asked her, again, if she thought her father was nuts. She looked out the window, into the dark.

  “His beliefs are his life, “she said. “You know that. Even when my mother was alive, he was always caught up in these end-of-the-world scenarios.” She paused to suck at the cigarette and spat out a stray hair. She continued. “You know he had once considered becoming a survivalist and even befriended that kook Kurt Saxon? The FBI came knocking on our doors one afternoon, and that ended that relationship…”

  “Well, that kind of thing is not too intelligent is it?” he said. “I mean, having to keep this type of lifestyle a secret can get pretty trying, and many peop
le end up very paranoid about the government, the New World Order, and all that nonsense. I suppose it’s lucky for you that he never went all the way over to that side.”

  “At least he never kept secrets from his wives,” she said. “They all knew how and who he was, and they either adapted or left. He never pretended to be someone or something he wasn’t.”

  Harding grunted, and tried to roll over on his side, suddenly thinking she had been reading his mind earlier. He bumped against The Beast, which looked at him balefully from where it now occupied that part of the bed, and so he rolled back over next to his wife, sighing. He knew he probably looked guilty as hell and was glad that the room was only illuminated by the fire.

  She sat up to look at him.

  In the dark, the firelight glanced off her beautiful, sultry eyes, and he saw in them that she was already thinking about leaving him again. He lay in the dark as he remembered those hot Brazilian nights with Tatania.

  He knew he would let Jennifer go, should she only ask.

  "The only reason for time is so that everything doesn't happen at once."

  -- Albert Einstein

  "There are too many accidents that can befall life on a single planet."

  -- Stephen Hawking

  “Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome.”

  -- Isaac Asimov

  Chapter Six

  REGARDING THE PLANET MARS

  The Mars Rover, named “Curiosity” had been orbiting the rock outcropping known as The Kimberley (formerly called "KMS-9"). JPL scientists had been hard at work attempting to position Curiosity close to the location of a particular discovery that had not been released to the general public or news media. In fact, it was one of only sixteen truly Top Secret items that had been so classified in the history of NASA.

  Another of those sixteen items was a second facet of why Curiosity was at The Kimberley in anticipation of The Wave impacting the planet.

  The mission had been launched August 12, 2005, and attained Martian orbit on March 10, 2006. In November 2006, after five months of aerobraking, it entered its final science orbit and began its primary science phase.

  During the initial stages of exploration, Curiosity had been set to record the results of a penetrator probe impact, deployed from the Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter (MRO). This technology, based on a weapon system design known as “Project Thor” was to uncover deep, subterranean samples for inspection by the Rover. Additionally, it would provide evidence of the potential use and practicality of such a weapon, albeit at a reduced gravitational load, as Mars is much smaller than Earth.

  SPARTACUS mission planners had worked diligently to assist and modify the payload to not disclose the actual nature of this phase of the mission.

  But, in September of 2009 an article in the journal ‘Science’ reported that some new craters on Mars were discovered to have excavated relatively pure water ice. It was interesting to the broader scientific community that the MRO detected “exposed ice” in these “new craters” that had supposedly been excavated by impact craters that formed between January and September 2008. These new craters were found and dated by the CTX camera, and the identification of the ice was confirmed with the Compact Imaging Spectrometer (CRISM) on board the Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter (MRO).

  The ice was found in a total of 5 locations. Three of the sites were in the Cebrenia quadrangle, with two others in the Diacria quadrangle. The fact of how this series of craters were so conveniently formed went unreported in any news media or scientific journals.

  The reality was that the MRO was blasting the surface of Mars with a series of 20-foot-long (6.1 m), 1-foot-diameter (0.30 m) tungsten rods, most of which attained a speed of Mach 7 due to Mars’ weak gravitational pull, but also because of its thinner atmosphere.

  Some of the rods also had a rocket-assist feature that would initiate when the rod was within 18,000 feet of impact. These boosted the rods to Mach 14. While recording a particular impact, Curiosity reported the presence of hydrocarbons as detected in spectra.

  This was of great interest to major energy companies, and also organizations interested in Mars colonization for several reasons. A ready fuel source for heat and propulsion, coupled with the ability to chemically alter these hydrocarbon materials into any number of products provided a very strong profit motive to manned exploration of the Red Planet.

  As a result, a reality TV marketing plan and the concept for a one-way mission to Mars was published in 2010, in the ‘Journal of Cosmology’, Volume 12.

  “The Human Mission To Mars, Colonizing the Red Planet” pushed the reality TV concept, receiving international media attention in 2010 and 2011, and over 10,000 volunteers from around the world contacted the ‘Journal of Cosmology’.

  In 2010 through early 2012 a lobbying campaign tried to convince the U.S. Congress to fund plans for a human mission to Mars. At the beginning of 2012, Mars One developed a plan independently to finance a mission to Mars through the reality TV-concept. The brilliance of the concept would be to allow the volunteers to pay for their own interviews, to prove they were serious in actually going on a journey to Mars that would most certainly be a one-way trip.

  Additionally, the applicants were screened for propensity to understand scientific principles, especially surrounding geology, physics, manufacturing, chemical processes and oil extraction technology. Some applicants, once far into the process, joked that they were being groomed to form a team like the roughneck oilmen drafted to stop an asteroid impact in the film “Armageddon”.

  The truth was very close to that.

  Using the MRO and other Mars Orbital satellites, vast usable hydrocarbon reserves were being detected. This was deemed a National Security Secret by the United States Government, and classified as Top Secret.

  Analysis and exploitation were then placed into a combined department managed by the Bureau of Land Management and supported by the U.S. Geological Survey (USGS), specifically the USGS Astrogeology Science Center.

  Code-named “UDONTNOSHMIT”, the program was introduced into the 2013 Black Budget and cordoned off from US Congressional oversight.

  The discovery of crude petroleum reserves on Mars was enormously important to strategic politics and multinational corporate business efforts. It allowed for the development of a manned space colony on Mars to be seriously considered. That the trip was a suicide mission for the participants barely registered, as ‘human resources’ were already a deductible line item for tax planning purposes. It was almost humorous to the organizers of the program as to how easily the volunteers were convinced about the nobility of the scientific work, and their outstanding contributions to Mankind. The fact that these people were essentially going to become exploited miners mattered not at all to the men who made the truly important decisions.

  Since the discovery of The Wave, however, there had been some consternation regarding any potential impacts or effects that might hinder the enterprise. Curiosity was almost positioned in a safe area, having ready hydrocarbon pools close to hand, but there was another feature that convinced the project managers to move the Rover to The Kimberley waypoint.

  It was to augment their continued analysis of the indigenous animal life on Mars.

  Since the first Viking probes that had reached Mars in 1976, it had been known at the most secret levels that there was substantial animal life on the Red Planet. This required the most massive cover-up in NASA’s history, and enormous amounts of resources were directed at the problem of hiding and eliminating all traces of the initial contacts with alien life.

  Reports of the detection of several alien life forms on Mars were quickly suppressed. Those scientists who would not or could not play the game were eliminated from access to the data, reshuffled, mustered out, retired, or discredited. Some were threatened with very long prison terms if they were to reveal these discoveries. A few tried to fight back, and out the truth, but after a short time, finding they were no longer ab
le to obtain work, and having been labeled as crackpots, they ended up in ignoble positions. Some committed suicide, some went quietly mad, and some just sank from view. Some returned, were suitably chastised, and given jobs far below their former rank.

  However, there was one man, who knew the truth, and refused to budge. He was deemed both too valuable to lose, and too dangerous to remain unsupervised. Dr. Martin Groenig was a super genius and completely loose cannon. The combination was extremely dangerous, both because he was far too clever for his own good, and because he was also a formidable athlete. He had escaped his enforced confinement too many times to count, and each time, had been returned to his comfortable, yet restrictive quarters. Despite lavishing him with every known possible creature comfort, up to and including women, booze, recreational drugs, and all manner of advanced technology, he continued to analyze the Martian life, and tried to make known its existence. That he was so very smart allowed him to concoct and execute elaborate escapes with disturbing regularity. Once, he managed to overcome his guards by creating nerve gas from aerosol deodorant, laundry soap, bacon grease, and toothpaste. The resulting phosgene gas cloud disabled half the base where he was being kept.

  He had constructed a rudimentary self-contained breathing apparatus from feminine hygiene products, Ziploc bags, some ordinary drinking straws, duct tape and a canister of emergency oxygen he had requisitioned from an aircraft maintenance bay.

  Dr. Groenig was enormously angry at not being allowed to tell the world of the Martians, but he was also extremely angry at almost everything. His temper tantrums were legendary, even before his incarceration, and he had pinned back the ears of many senior officers and colleagues over his career. His brilliant deductions and flawless work came in spite of his hatred of regulations and bureaucracy, yet he was always castigated by co-workers with whom he had entered into conflicts, mostly of his own doing. It was not at all unusual to see grown men flee, weeping, from a short discussion with the man. Female subordinates were terrified to be in his presence, both because of his innate intellect and because of his complete disregard for the common mores of social behavior.