Blue Hope: (Book 2) (Red Hope)
BLUE HOPE
THE FINAL ADVENTURE
IN THE RED HOPE SERIES
— This can be read as a standalone sequel —
JOHN DREESE
BLUE HOPE
Copyright © 2017 John Dreese
All rights reserved by the author.
ISBN: 978-1978100121
Pages: 514
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real people or real places are used fictitiously. Character names, places and events are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book can be reproduced in any form by any means without the express permission of the author. This includes reprints, excerpts, photocopying, recording, or any future means of reproducing text.
Cover art created by James at www.GoOnWrite.com
Version 1.200
Published in the United States of America.
BOOKS BY JOHN DREESE
Red Hope
Blue Hope
(Book 2 of the Red Hope Series)
TABLE OF CONTENTS:
PROLOGUE
PART ONE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
PART TWO
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER 55
CHAPTER 56
CHAPTER 57
CHAPTER 58
CHAPTER 59
CHAPTER 60
CHAPTER 61
CHAPTER 62
CHAPTER 63
CHAPTER 64
CHAPTER 65
PART THREE
CHAPTER 66
CHAPTER 67
CHAPTER 68
CHAPTER 69
CHAPTER 70
CHAPTER 71
CHAPTER 72
CHAPTER 73
CHAPTER 74
CHAPTER 75
CHAPTER 76
CHAPTER 77
CHAPTER 78
CHAPTER 79
CHAPTER 80
CHAPTER 81
CHAPTER 82
CHAPTER 83
CHAPTER 84
CHAPTER 85
CHAPTER 86
CHAPTER 87
CHAPTER 88
CHAPTER 89
CHAPTER 90
CHAPTER 91
CHAPTER 92
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
BOOKS BY JOHN DREESE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
For Lee, Daniel & Caroline
PREFACE TO BLUE HOPE
RED HOPE: BOOK ONE was released just before midnight on December 20th, 2014. Earlier that day I’d finished the last edit on a long trip home to Texas.
My goal for Red Hope was to be a fun low-tech story with a mild cliffhanger. I soon found out that readers were much more engaged with the characters than I’d imagined. Many readers even sent supportive messages while I was writing this follow-on book, all of which were appreciated.
What you hold in your hands is the final half of the Red Hope adventure — BLUE HOPE. It’s a story that started long ago with a late night phone call to the White House and ends with what I hope you will find is a satisfying conclusion. Thanks for waiting.
John Dreese
October, 2017
A NOTE FOR READERS
As the SECOND BOOK in the RED HOPE series, the prologue and first few chapters of BLUE HOPE contain elements of the last few chapters of RED HOPE. This information was woven into the story to provide a bridge for readers who may not have read the first book or read it long ago.
PROLOGUE
Previously, on Mars…
Two desperate astronauts stumbled out of an ancient stone building on the Red Planet. Adam, the more experienced of the two, gasped for air, his hands pointlessly gripping the visor on his helmet. He reached down for his air tank, gloves flailing against the empty spot where it used to be. Adam collapsed to his knees gasping – his lungs starving for oxygen. He pulled a Y-tube connector from the pocket on his space suit and held it up to his colleague, Keller. Adam gestured for his friend to hook him up so he could share some of his precious air.
“No,” Keller said over the headset.
Adam looked at Keller in horror.
“What? Hook me up!” Adam demanded. “I’m dying!”
Keller looked at his own oxygen gauge.
“I know. But I’ve only got four minutes left. If I share this…,” he gulped. “Neither one of us will make it back to the ship alive.”
Adam’s eyes filled with bloodshot rage.
Keller’s face betrayed the guilt he felt for his decision. He chose to abandon the man who had led him and two others safely to Mars – the first manned mission.
“I’m sorry, Adam. Look, I’m really sorry. I’ll… I’ll tell everybody that you died a hero,” Keller said. “We’ll bury you here on Mars, okay?”
Adam gasped for air like a helpless fish out of its tank. Keller turned away. “I know you saved my life back there, Adam, but, I gotta go right now.”
Adam’s vision began to blur, the colors of Mars fading to black and white. All he could see out of his visor was the floodlight tripod.
Keller stumbled toward the rover transport, pausing a few feet away to catch his breath. He slumped over with hands on knees; resting for just a second, trying to calm down his racing heart, no doubt caused by the explosion of guilt he felt for his friend.
Adam reached out a trembling hand and grabbed the floodlight tripod. He pushed through all his pain and light-headedness to stand up, climbing the tripod like a crutch. He stumbled up behind Keller and with his last remaining strength, swung the tripod like a baseball bat right into Keller’s helmet, shattering open the glass on his visor.
Keller fell to the ground and didn’t move – his last breath now part of the billowing Mars breeze. A crackle of ice formed over his eyes, stuck wide open and opaque. Adam rolled Keller’s body onto its side and unlatched the coveted oxygen tank.
“I’m sorry, Keller. I’ve got a family that depends on me. You don’t.”
PART ONE
“Pride comes before the fall.”
— Ancient Proverb
CHAPTER 1
Building 12
NASA Johnson Space Center
Houston, Texas
Good news travels fast. Bad news even faster. The administrative director of NASA shuffled
down a crowded hallway in his wrinkled suit, his eyes focused on the cup of steaming coffee in his hand. His black hair laid unkempt and greasy — he hadn’t slept in the three days since the first crew of humans landed on Mars. Now death was devouring his agenda.
He coasted to a stop in front of a set of double doors. His frown eased into a smile at the sight of the wooden placard next to the door jamb. It read NASA Administrator, Chris Tankovitch. With his free hand, he rubbed his fingers across the sign, consuming each letter.
A chorus of “Director Tankovitch!” and “Just a quick question!” erupted from a gaggle of reporters streaming down the hallway behind him. Chris turned to look and then lurched through the doors of his executive suite. Once inside, he slammed the doors shut and leaned back against them. This room had become his safe haven. It was his office at the NASA Johnson Space Center — a temporary arrangement while the astronauts were exploring the surface of Mars.
Chris faked a smile toward the secretary — she stared at him with bemusement. He marched through the large room, knocking on her desk as he passed by.
“Buenos dias, Dotty,” Chris said in a poor attempt at friendliness.
“That’s what they tell me, Mr. Tankovitch,” she replied, attempting to lighten the mood. She went back to watching cat videos.
Chris jogged straight into his own sub-office and shut the door behind him. Still going full speed, he rounded the corner on his metal government desk and plopped down into the chair, spilling coffee all over his lap.
“Ah, just great,” he blurted out.
Chris grabbed a napkin and dabbed at the stain, but it was no use – the reporters would just have to understand; no time to deal with this now.
NASA was roiling from a public relations nightmare only a few hours old. A spaceship with three astronauts and one cosmonaut landed on Mars three days ago. It placed humans on the Red Planet for the first time in history – it was the pinnacle of human achievement.
And now one of the explorers was dead.
In the middle of the night, Mission Control had received a short communication from Adam Alston, the mission leader on Mars. It stated, “A terrible accident has happened. Keller Murch is dead.”
Despite desperate attempts at further communication, Chris hadn’t received any more details. He had to assume that the remaining astronauts were busy dealing with the situation that led to the accident.
Agency public relations staff were meeting at the Mission Control Center across the parking lot from Chris. Huddled together in a large room with coffee-stained carpet, they were trying to write a press release for the public, working in close concert with Chris. He only had two hours left to prepare the final statement for the media. Despite the lockdown on news, information still leaked to the press corps. They knew that something bad had happened with the Mars mission.
“Director Tankovitch, you have a telecon with President Jennings in forty-five minutes,” blared the chunky old business phone on his desk.
Chris looked over his glasses at the phone interface, noticing several blinking buttons. He pushed one and said, “Thanks Dotty. Hold my calls and please, no visitors.”
No response, so he pushed another one and repeated himself louder, “Thank you Dotty. Hold my calls and visitors.”
No response. His nerves were at their limit.
Chris cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled toward the office door, “I GOT THE MESSAGE DOTTY, THANKS!”
“You’re welcome,” squeaked a voice from the phone in the most sarcastic tone imaginable.
“God help me,” he whispered under his breath.
Chris opened his laptop to get back to work on his public statement. He’d just typed in his password when a loud knock rattled his door.
Chris dropped his head in disappointment.
“Dotty, you’re supposed to block visitors,” Chris said.
He looked up as the door creaked open and a head popped through the gap. It was the lead video telemetry engineer, Jimmy.
“Hi, Director Tankovitch. Sorry to bother you – I know you’re dealing with a mess right now,” Jimmy gulped as he paused. “But we just processed the video download from mission leader Adam Alston’s helmet camera on Mars.”
“Thanks Jimmy, but I’m preparing for a meeting with the president. Can it wait?” Chris asked, hoping Jimmy would leave.
“That would be a bad idea. It’s fresh from the incident when Adam Alston and Keller Murch were both trapped in that building on Mars. It shows what was hidden in the building,” he paused. “And it shows Keller Murch’s death — I think you should see this immediately.”
Jimmy took a deep breath. “You know how Captain Alston said it was an accident?”
“Yes, I know,” Chris answered.
“He lied.”
CHAPTER 2
Temporary housing for Captain Alston’s family
Houston, Texas
One million, four thousand and three dollars. And twenty two cents. That was the bank account balance shown on the screen of Connie Alston’s laptop. With her brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, she sat at the kitchen table, drooped over the archaic computer — it still had a DVD drive. The situation seemed all the more unreal because this wasn’t even her kitchen.
Normally she and her family lived five hours north in Fort Worth, Texas. This kitchen was the executive guest housing that NASA Johnson put her up in while her husband, Captain Adam Alston, was busy running around Mars. So far she didn’t like Houston because it was too humid — walking outside was like opening up a dishwasher and getting hit with the steam. Houston did have a problem, she thought. Humidity.
Holy crap, she whispered to herself after seeing the bank account balance. She turned on her smartphone and took a picture of the screen. For a brief moment, she considered posting it on Facebook with the caption, “Big risks bring big rewards. Feeling so blessed.”
Her finger hovered over the Post button.
She reconsidered.
Oh, I hate those kind of posts, she thought.
Connie put the phone down. A smile overtook her face as a tear ran down her cheek, surprising even her. Connie and her husband had spent years worrying about every bill, questioning every trip to the doctor – especially the emergency room visits. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think they would have that much money sitting in a bank account. Uncle Sam would take forty percent of it, but $600k was still a lot of money to Connie.
That’s a lot of money to anybody, she thought.
The money wouldn’t be in her account for long though. The bank manager had just called and invited her to come down to the office and split it among several bank accounts. It was something about the FDIC insurance only covering up to a quarter-million dollars per account.
“You know,” he told her, “in the unlikely event that we have a banking disaster or the world blows up.”
She’d laughed nervously. The bank manager’s fear wouldn’t be a problem for long. Connie had a plan for that money.
Off to the side of the kitchen was a cold beige living room with the TV turned on and tuned to the 24-hour news station. The TV itself was bolted to the table like some cheap motel. The scrolling banner on the TV news said, “NEWS ALERT: Problem on the International Space Station.” Connie only half-watched the news while staring, dumbfounded, at her family’s new riches.
Keller Murch, the Silicon Valley entrepreneur who was part of the Mars exploration crew, had promised each of his three crewmates a million dollar bonus if they accepted the mission. The money was an incentive that NASA found necessary because the A-list and B-list astronauts balked at riding an experimental spacecraft designed and built in less than twelve months.
As soon as the astronauts had landed on Mars, Keller’s company was to wire the million dollars to each crew members bank account. Adam was the only crew member with a family, so nobody was looking at the bank balances of the others. Keller was aware of this detail and instructed his accountants
to delay depositing the bonus into the other accounts, just in case they didn’t make it back.
Today was the day that Connie had been waiting for so long. She picked up the phone and called the spine surgery clinic she’d been going to for years – ever since she’d mangled her back in a car accident and had to use crutches to walk.
An overly happy secretary answered the phone.
“Hello! You’ve reached the Back & Spine Institute of Texas.”
“Hi, this is Connie Alston. I’m calling to —”
“Oh my, Mrs. Alston! We are so excited to hear about what your husband is doing on Mars. I held my breath through the entire landing sequence. Oh-my-gosh that was so wonderful.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it. I’m just glad they’re safe. We’re still very worried,” Connie admitted.
“Oh, I can only imagine! He’s an inspiration to my children. He’s such a good man.”
“That’s very kind of you to say,” Connie replied, pausing and then restarting. “I think I’m ready to schedule the back fusion surgery.”
“Okay. With or without the stem cell injection?” asked the secretary in a more serious tone.
“With,” Connie answered.
“Now, you know that’s the experimental one, right? Insurance won’t cover it and it’s… very expensive.”
“Yes, yes, I know. Dr. Sanders and I talked about it extensively when I was there last month. Half a million dollars and some change.”
“Okay, but that needs to be, well…” the secretary said with strain. “The financial aspect of it must be taken care of ahead of time.”
Connie sighed and smiled.
“I know, and I’m ready to get the ball rolling.”
“Oh my, do you want me to forward you to the finance office so you can work out a payment plan?”
“No, I’m ready to pay,” Connie declared. “In full.”
There was silence on the other end.