Blue Hope: (Book 2) (Red Hope) Read online

  The lone astronaut on board the Little Turtle, Captain Adam Alston, was having the worst day of his life. He just spent four months isolated in a spaceship with one other person — then one week by himself. He’d done his best to position the ship so the heatshields on the bottom were aimed in the general direction of travel. However, due to a broken flight-control computer, he didn’t have a lot of say in his actual trajectory or where he’d land. The original plan of the mission was to hit the Pacific Ocean, but Adam saw the California coast approaching and he knew it was time for Plan B because Plan A was going to hell.

  “I hope I land somewhere soft. At this point, I just hope I land on Earth,” Adam said out loud.

  The ship began plowing into the upper atmosphere. Adam’s stomach pushed into itself because of the deceleration. All the frictional energy from the air impacting the bottom turned into a fiery blaze that came up and past the windows. It looked like the ship was sitting in a huge bonfire with embers and sparks streaking past the windows like lasers.

  Only the mechanical gauges were working at this long point of his voyage. They jumped around, but reported Mach 25, then Mach 24. The ship shook violently, putting airplane turbulence to shame. Adam tried to breathe regularly, but his fingers had a death grip on the seat handles. The G-forces of the slowdown were titanic. Adam looked around the ship’s interior. Anything not tied down came flinging to the bottom of the ship. He flinched as heavy items slammed down next to him

  Mach 22, Mach 21...

  The ship oscillated left and right, sending a cascade of flames off the alternating downward side of the ship.

  Mach 20, Mach 19...

  The cabinet panels covering the inside of the escape hatch fell off due to the extreme heat, breaking the seal. They came screaming to the front of the ship, their sharp edges hitting Adam’s seat and slicing through one of his seatbelts. During one of the oscillations, he fell partially out of the chair.

  “Whoaaaaa!” Adam yelled.

  Mach 18, Mach 17…

  Adam held on tight as the oscillations grew stronger, thrashing him around like a rider on a mechanical bull.

  Mach 16, Mach 15...

  The flames outside were subsiding. Adam could see an occasional blue/black horizon as the ship rocked. He could make out the Rocky Mountains — now behind him.

  Mach 14, Mach 13…

  The Little Turtle screamed over the Mississippi River at an altitude of 120,000 feet. The fiery ride continued.

  Mach 10...

  Sonic booms were just hitting the ground in the Midwest. People wondered if a car had just slammed into their houses. They made their way outside, surprised to see a smoky streak across the sky.

  Mach 8….

  Indiana gliding below. A minute later...

  Mach 5...

  Ohio...

  Mach 2...

  At an altitude of 10,000 feet, Adam clawed his way up to grab the parachute handle.

  He pulled.

  It didn’t work.

  All this way and I’m going to die because of a parachute failure? Screw that!, he thought.

  Adam grabbed the handle and jerked with all his weight, but he couldn’t get maximum effort. Reaching down, he unbuckled the last part of the seatbelt that held him to the ship and lifted his feet up to the ceiling, powering against the amplified gravity from the deceleration. He put one foot on each side of the parachute handle and pulled with the loudest grunt of his life. The switch opened and Adam fell violently to the floor.

  The parachutes rocketed out of the storage cabinets on the roof. This would be their second official use since being carefully repacked many months ago on Mars.

  Both parachutes deployed perfectly. Unfortunately, there should’ve been three. The last parachute didn’t come out. Adam found out immediately. The Little Turtle dangled awkwardly from the two and wasn’t slowing down like it was supposed to.

  The ship started to spin, causing all hell to break loose in the cabin where the debris and the pilot were free to roll around like dice in a squirrel cage. At long last, the third parachute came out and, when it reached full extension, it ripped a huge panel from the roof of the ship. The chute and the panel fell limply away far behind the breeze, destined to land somewhere over northern Ohio. With the deafening roar of high-speed wind alternating into and out of the hole in the roof, the ship’s spinning became violent just as it headed for the Northern coast of Ohio near Sandusky.

  If it weren’t for his helmet, Adam would’ve been knocked unconscious many rotations ago. As it was, he was still being slammed and bruised on the inside of the cabin. Interior ship parts pelted him like dodgeballs before they bounded out of the huge gaping hole in the ceiling.

  One of the two extra space suits which were fastened to the wall broke open and the anti-gravity cube casually sailed out of it, bouncing off the walls a few times and then, to Adams horror, it flew out of hole and into the great blue yonder, destined to land in Lake Erie somewhere.

  “No! No! No!” Adam yelled out.

  The ship still spun and shook violently. Another panel ripped from the side of the ship, resulting in a strong howling gust coming straight through the cabin. Adam grabbed on to the seat firmly to make sure he didn’t get blown out.

  Suddenly, Adam saw his worst nightmare.

  Yeva had been fastened into her seat for re-entry. For the last two million miles, she had been inside her suit, trailing behind the ship at the end of a tether. Just hours ago, Adam had reeled her back in and buckled her into her seat. Under the current violent ship vibrations, she ripped free from the seatbelts.

  Adam reached for her leg, but the bucking of the ship made his fingers slip away before getting a good grip. They would either both get thrown free of the ship or Adam would have to let her go.

  He let go. He had to. He’d brought her all this way. And he let her go. She may have been dead, he thought, but she didn’t deserve an ending like this.

  Adam looked on with terror as the suit containing her frozen dead body departed the Little Turtle – a ship that both saved her life and saw her death. Adam sobbed openly, but didn’t lose grip of the seat.

  Just hang on, he thought. Do not let go of the ship. Trust the ship.

  In a few moments, the Little Turtle careened through the airspace above Lake Erie and over the tower-like Perry Monument. It slammed into the water, producing a transient crater of water and a rooster tail.

  Throughout the previous half hour, news of Adam’s return flight had spread quickly and most of America was outside to watch the spectacle. Hundreds of people stood on the shore of Lake Erie and watched the Little Turtle take its final dive.

  Within a minute, a ski boat left the harbor toward the direction where the long parachutes were seen falling gently into the water.

  When the boat arrived, all it found were the parachutes. No sign of a space capsule.

  It had sunk.

  Adam was barely conscious, but awake enough to pull the handle on the self-inflating raft. With a thunderous expansion, it inflated instantly and rocketed upward. Adam held onto the handle and ascended with it. They popped out of the water like fishing bobbers, about fifty feet from the ski boat. Adam clawed his way into the inflatable raft and fell down onto his back, removing his helmet when he landed. Suddenly, for the first time since the harrowing re-entry phase had begun, he heard nothing.

  Such a beautiful blue sky, he thought, viewing it through tears of joy for having survived. – for having outlasted the nightmare.

  Months of anxiety melted away into immeasurable bliss. He was finally home, the only sound being the water lapping at the raft edge.

  A growing engine-noise broke the silence. It got louder and louder, but then cut off just before reaching the raft.

  A head appeared over the edge of the raft. It was an older man with scraggly hair poking out from under a baseball hat embroidered with “Boat hair, don’t care.”

  The boat driver squinted his eyes to see Adam more cle
arly. He asked, “Are you the Mars guy?”

  Adam nodded, but didn’t say a word.

  The boat driver laughed.

  “Boy did you miss a real clusterf—”

  “Please,” Adam interrupted him. “Just one more minute of quiet. I’ve had a rough day.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Quarantine hangar

  Wright Patterson Air Force Base

  Dayton, Ohio

  A Jet Ranger helicopter zoomed in through the morning fog and followed the landing pattern for the main runway. It hovered twenty feet above the ground, following the taxiways before settling down in front of a modern-looking steel-framed hangar. A man in a wrinkled suit stepped out, ducking as he walked out from under the spinning rotor and toward the hangar. He approached the main entrance and waved to the armed guards on either side of the door. They checked his badge and allowed him through.

  The inside of the building was largely empty except for a long hermetically sealed tank, painted silver like a huge art deco medicine capsule — it was the quarantine tank. A dozen desks sat just outside the tank at one end, each manned with physicians and nurses — they were tasked with helping their new arrival recover from the long journey and to study his physical recovery now that he was back on Earth.

  Along the side of the tank was a metal door and next to that was a very thick window. Just below the window was an old-fashioned phone used to talk with people inside the tank. Chris walked across the empty hangar to the big silver tank and knocked on the door. It echoed throughout the hangar.

  After a few moments, a ghost of a man appeared at the glass inside the tank. Adam Alston’s salt and pepper hair had gone stark white during his return trip to Earth. His skin was sickly pale and his hair matched the unkempt look of his beard. Chris looked on in shock as he picked up the communication phone. Adam did the same.

  “Adam, you look like hell.”

  Adam shrugged his spindly shoulders.

  “They won’t let me clean up until they run some tests,” Adam explained.

  “Have you had a chance to speak with anybody about what happened to the world in your absence?” Chris asked.

  “That’s a good question, Director Tankovitch…”

  “Former director,” Chris corrected him. “Just call me Chris.”

  Adam tilted his head in confusion.

  “Wow. I guess a lot has happened. Tim told me about the president,” Adam explained.

  “Yes, that was very sad, he… wait, who’s Tim?”

  “Oh, he’s the boat driver that found me in Lake Erie.”

  Adam waved to Tim who was sitting just behind him, also inside the tank. Chris leaned to the right to see further into the quarantine tank. When Tim saw the visitor, he smiled and gave him the middle finger.

  Adam continued.

  “So, about that, Tim is upset about being stuck here in quarantine with me for twenty one days. He runs a boat charter on Lake Erie and, well, he’s not making money in here.”

  “I understand,” Chris agreed. “Look, Adam, as you can imagine, I have a lot of questions.”

  “I figured,” Adam said. “How much of my helmet-camera video did you see?”

  Silence.

  Calculated silence.

  Chris ran over the options in his head about what to say. Play dumb about Adam’s murderous attack on Keller? Or spill the beans right away? The only other person with knowledge of that video, Chris’s former telemetry expert, had joined a disaster recovery group and was currently somewhere in Eastern Europe.

  “I didn’t see any of it,” Chris said. “It was garbled.”

  Adam looked into Chris’s eyes to see if he could detect dishonesty. Nothing. But Adam was always a terrible judge of honesty and an even worse judge of a lie.

  “Adam, please tell me what happened up there. Tell me what happened to the crew.”

  Adam closed his eyes and bit his lip to think.

  “It’s very upsetting and I’m not ready to talk about it.”

  Chris nodded to imply understanding.

  “We’re going to send in a counselor today to help you – we assume you are experiencing serious PTSD from your trip. Adam, we need you to talk about what happened on Mars.”

  Adam nodded. He understood.

  “Can you talk about Yeva and Molly?” Chris asked.

  “Molly died on the planet from asphyxiation, but I don’t think it was a mistake. While I was there, I found out she had a serious medical condition.”

  “I knew,” Chris interrupted. “We all knew. We saw it in her medical readings starting not long after you left Earth orbit. We still haven’t told the press about it, and we probably never will.”

  “I think that’s a good idea,” Adam said.

  “And what about Yeva?” Chris asked carefully.

  “Yeva escaped from Mars with me. She was alive for most of the trip.”

  “And?” Chris leaned toward the glass.

  “She didn’t make it. I was the last soul on board.”

  “Adam, what happened to Yeva?”

  Adam’s hands began to shake. Both of them noticed it.

  “I’m sorry, but I just can’t talk about that right now. Give me time.”

  “I’ll be honest, the president and the press are going to want answers.”

  “I know, I know….”

  Chris looked at a note scribbled on his palm, where he often wrote important questions. He looked back up.

  “What happened to the anti-gravity cube?”

  Adam looked away from his shaking hands and back at Chris.

  “That made it back for the most part. Right to the last few minutes. It’s here… on Earth. Somewhere in Indiana, or maybe Ohio.”

  “You lost the anti-gravity cube?” Chris asked with extreme frustration.

  “Well, it just sorta fell out during that rough re-entry,” Adam said. “Did you guys ever figure out what it was good for?”

  Chris smiled, trying to hide his anger.

  “That cube was the key to a whole new class of medications that can cure cancer.”

  Adam looked dumbfounded.

  “Cancer?” Adam said incredulously. “Really?”

  “Yes. And you lost our only chance,” he scolded Adam. “I’m afraid you’re about to become the pariah of the century.”

  “Way to go, bucko!” said a voice from behind Adam. When Adam turned around, he saw Tim giving him the thumbs-up sign with extreme sarcasm. Adam looked back at Chris.

  “That may be true,” Adam said. “But not for three more weeks.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Alston family home

  Fort Worth, Texas

  Running the family while she was under the constant threat of financial ruin took its toll on Connie. She climbed into bed every night, exhausted – to the point where she usually fell asleep in her day clothes and shoes.

  Just after sunrise, an old-fashioned telephone ring echoed from the kitchen and into the bedroom. Connie’s groggy eyelids ripped open as she tried to figure out where she was. The phone rang so rarely these days that she jumped out of bed and ran into the kitchen, slamming her little toe into the door. She jumped up and down, hooting and hollering as she lunged for her cellphone.

  “Hello?” she cried, trying to mask the foot pain.

  “Connie, this is Chris. I have news.”

  “Okaaaay,” Connie said cautiously.

  “I’m sure you heard the president announce that the Little Turtle returned earlier today.”

  “Yeah, sure, totally,” Connie said, oblivious to that news, having just woken up. She had purposely avoided the news after Chris said the crew was most likely dead.

  “Brace yourself, Connie,” he said with anticipation. “Adam is alive. I just spoke with him. I have some people coming to pick you up.”

  “WHAT? Where is he? Is he okay?” she screamed with utter joy.

  “He’s in a quarantine tank in Dayton. The capsule crash-landed into Lake Erie and it was the clos
est facility.”

  “How is he?” she yelped.

  “He’s had a rough time,” Chris admitted. “Gather your things for a long stay. He’s in quarantine for three weeks. Our guys will be by to pick you up in an hour.”

  “Thank you, Chris. Are you in Dayton or here?”

  “I’m in Dayton right now, in between meetings, but I’ll be down to meet you.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you then.”

  Connie searched the house for Caty and Cody. They were in the front room playing multi-player Minecraft.

  “Kids, I have some news for you.”

  “Yeah?” they said in unison, distracted by the video game.

  “We’re going to visit somebody very special.”

  “Who? Is it Gramma?” Cody asked.

  She leaned toward them and spoke in a whispered tone.

  “It’s your Dad. He’s in Ohio and we’re going to visit him.”

  Both kids turned their heads toward their mom with their jaws dropped.

  “He’s alive?” they screamed.

  Connie nodded vigorously, tears streaming down her face. The kids jumped up and ran to her.

  “He’s alive, kiddos. Your Daddy is alive.”

  She gave them both a big group hug.

  “Okay, now go pack your bags,” Connie instructed. “We’re going to be in Ohio for a few weeks.”

  The kids hopped up and ran to their rooms. Connie dragged her biggest suitcase down from the attic and began filling it with clothing. She wheeled the stuffed bag to the front door.

  “Kids, bring your suitcases here!” she yelled down the hallway. They came running, eager to travel.

  The knock came quicker than expected. Connie opened the door. Two large men wearing mirrored sunglasses stood on the porch.

  “Hello, Mrs. Alston. We’re here to take you to the airport.”

  The taller of the two men showed her his government ID badge.