Space 51

Space 51

By V.G. Harrison

This book is a work of fiction. Places, names, locations, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locals or persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright 2015 V.G. Harrison

All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to www.createspace.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For more information: authorvgh@gmail.com

Other Novels by V.G. Harrison

Section 51

Department 51

Unit 51

Dedication

To my beautiful family in upstate New York who I grow to love more and more every day.

The Mission

Our crew of 124 souls on board was headed into space in a rhombus-shaped alien spaceship that turned out to be fifty-eight stories high. Vertical must have been the attack position, because this ship nearly leveled the Unit 51 experimental weaponry base in the Arctic Circle. Thankfully, I had a special hand in crash-landing it before it annihilated everything in sight.

Our mission: make contact with a rogue space station built behind Saturn’s largest moon, Titan. It was built without the knowledge of those who were in charge of Project Solstice, a top secret initiative whose purpose was to use alien technology to advance our own on Earth. For more than a half century, the project had been operating in secret from the people of Earth.

I sat in a gray room that looked more like a sterilized metallic hotel room that was supposed to be an alien crewman’s quarters. At least, that was the thought based on the ship’s schematics. I studied 3-D images projected in front of me from microscopic interface cameras embedded in the walls. Ian 2, my computerized triplet brother, had given me the schematics of how he integrated into the alien network and merged his technology with what was on board the ship. He assured me I could do the same thing with the cybernetic implant in my brain, but I preferred not to. The last time I had accidentally interfaced with this alien technology, I got a lifetime of pain radiating throughout my head.

I waved my hand, switching to a new image coming from the bridge. Colonel Kendrick made rounds on an upper deck, checking in with everyone at their station. He looked like he was out of place, because there wasn't a specific area that said, I'm in charge. But that wasn't the only problem.

Had it not been for Ian 2 translating all of the controls for the staff, they wouldn't have had a clue about how anything worked. Just like my room, he projected 3-D image controls in front of them with their language of choice. Controls they understood based on their previous experiences of working on naval vessels. There were very few people who were from the Air Force like Kendrick, because this mission required those who'd worked on self-sufficient vessels for long periods of time. This was our first venture into space, so it made perfect sense.

Ian 2, I said, unable to take my focus off the halo display. This is one of the reasons why my brother created you, isn't it? To prepare us for whatever is beyond our solar system.

Yes, he replied via a speaker that made his voice sound like surround sound. Your Ian knew we would find out sooner rather than later. As the planet currently stood, he knew Project Solstice would need a—as he called it—leg up. To him, I was that leg. You should also know that where you're at right now does not come as a surprise to him either.

"How? You do know that my brother is dead, right?"

Is that a rhetorical question?

Closing my eyes, I shook my head. Of course. I'm just trying to figure out what you're not telling me.

All I can say right now is that your brother and I have run through this scenario. He had said that if all went as planned, you would be farther in space than he could have ever imagined.

Yeah. My chest grew heavy at the thought of his death. He was my triplet and died too soon. Were there any other conversations you had with him? About Elias and me?

Many. But as with everything else up to this point, I can only reveal them once certain conditions have been met.

That was my brother's programming MO. Ian treated this entire ordeal like it was a scavenger hunt. A dangerous one at that. People had died because of it, but an entire world and more might survive. At least, that was what I wanted to believe. Unlike everyone here, I was drafted into this. The only other choice I ever got was life in prison, which would’ve resulted in my staged death.

It was enough that my brother managed to impress his personality into an alien program. Ian 2 was also self-programmable and integrated into the World Wide Web and various networks throughout the planet, including orbiting satellites. If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t be breathing normal air, but rather the sulfurous air that came on this ship when it and its inhabitants invaded our base.

I eased off the bed and went over to the window.

Our home world was so far away that we couldn’t even see it anymore without long-range sensors. But when we passed by Mars, that alone was an incredible sight to see. This type of technology wasn’t—shouldn’t have been—possible. It was because of a decades-old secret initiative to scavenge from crash-landed alien spacecraft and integrate it into our current technology.

Now that we were finally beginning to recognize the supernatural community—they were descendants of aliens—on our planet as equals, there was no telling how far our technology could advance. Centuries of breeding with humans had given us the vampires, werewolves, and witches that we know of today, though they remained hidden in plain sight among Earth’s population.

How much longer do I need to be here? Has Dr. Coolidge said anything? I ran a hand across the patch of my illegal and unethical craniotomy that happened at the hands of a sadistic prick of a doctor who claimed it was for scientific research. At least my hair had started to grow back, though not fast enough to make it unnoticeable with the rest of my dark locks.

No. Both he and Dr. Weathers have been busy autopsying the alien bodies found on board this ship. I’ve given them all of the knowledge that I have, but they felt a more hands-on approach was needed in some situations. If you would like, I could ask him again.

No; that's okay.

I had a feeling that would take longer than I cared to wait. Even though the Tissue Mending Unit had reversed much of the damage, Coolidge liked to be thorough. And given that it was done with alien technology that we knew very little about, he wanted to make sure I was okay before leaving the med bay. Even though I trusted Ian 2 to reprogram the ship’s computers to recognize human anatomy and physiology, Coolidge didn’t.

How long until we get to Space 51? I asked.

Twenty-seven hours and fifty-two minutes at this speed, Ian 2 replied. Again, I reminded Colonel Kendrick that I could have had us there much sooner because this craft has hyper-ion-drive capabilities, which can propel us faster than the speed of light. But considering this was a last-minute decision and many preparations needed to be made, he preferred to take it slow.

I snorted. More like the Board wants time to put together last-minute processes and procedures around a mission they know nothing about. I swear—every time they lose a little control, their heads turn 360 degrees and their eyes glow hellfire red.

Ian saw that they had little use as well. He also predicted that they would eventually be overthrown or ‘forced to grow a backbone,’ as he put it.

I paused to contemplate what he’d just said. It sounded strange coming from a computer, but in every way sounded like my brother. Anyway, how can they not give us some leeway to do what we need to do when we’re entering into the unknown?

Considering there’s an illicit space station that was built over the last ten or so years that has human traits all over it, their concern should not be surprising. It’s hard to tell what type of reception we’ll receive when we arrive.

Whose side are you on?

Yours. But the good news is Space 51 hasn’t made any attempts to change course, other than to stay behind the moon so that anyone with a long-distance telescope would not notice their presence.

Rather than sit around any longer, I pulled on a sweater that was obviously too large for me and exited my room. Everything was a little too big for us, seeing as this ship was inhabited by beings who were about seven feet tall. I was hoping since the sweater was human-made there would've been an exception. Oh well.

When I entered the large, dim room, I noticed Drs. Coolidge and Weathers standing near an autopsy table with several headshot images on screens observing their progress. They had made a gooey mess of whatever their science project was on the table. I would’ve felt bad for the alien had they not attacked us first.

I continued around the lab and headed to the other side of the infirmary. When I arrived, the main door slid open. I sucked in a breath and muttered a curse.

Going somewhere, Ms. Frost? Gunther said with a German accent. Grinning, he swept the front of his overgrown brown hair aside. He wasn’t too much taller than me, but there was something about his schoolboy smile that said he wasn’t looking for a confrontation. That didn’t mean he wasn’t about let me walk past him either, since he was the head nurse on staff.

I’m leaving. I started past him.

His arm darted sideways, smacking the other side of the tight entryway and nearly clotheslining me. His grin remained in place. We both know that Dr. Coolidge will kick my ass with his steel-toe boots if I let you leave.

Then he should get his nose out of his guts and glory and clear me already. I’m fine. It’s Elias you need to worry about.

He laughed. He used that same line about you a few minutes ago when I checked on him.

My surviving brother wasn't privileged enough to suffer the same horrific craniotomy that I had. But like me, he also had an implant in his head courtesy of another doctor who had been working under that table with Ian. The difference between the two of us was that my implant was more advanced than his in terms of growth and the extent of our newfound cyberkinetic abilities. But like me, he was also subjected to close observation in the med bay.

I sighed. I don’t get why I have to hang around. That Tissue Mending Unit worked great. In fact, you might want to take notes, in case it puts you guys out of a job.

He waved his hand dismissively. I’m not worried about that. Until that thing grows legs and can be just about anywhere at any time, I’ll always be employed. Now you, on the other hand, are stalling when you should be resting. He pointed in the direction I’d come from.

You're going to have to pick me up and carry me there. I’ve been stuck in this place for the last two days and we’re scheduled to be near Space 51 tomorrow. I want to be up and ready when the confrontation happens.

More like you want to be a fly on the wall.

And you don’t?

He smiled and opened his mouth, but a series of distant explosions and a quake throughout the ship cut him off. He glanced overhead just as the lights flickered dark red. A loud alarm whooped across the spaceship.

What’s going on? I asked.

I don’t know. Gunther darted off to the nearest monitor and began bringing up images. You get back to bed. That’s an order.

He must have forgotten that I wasn’t military, which meant I didn’t have to comply with orders. Not like I would if I were anyway, because I was sure my importance to this mission would put me in a position to outrank him.

The door sealed shut. Another rock on the ship came with an explosion this time. I stumbled against a metal bulkhead.

Ian 2 could easily open the door for me, but I didn't want him to. I needed to do this on my own. Ian 2?

Yes?

Is Gunther on the other side of the door?

No. He's tending to other matters. One of them being the explosion caused a small fire on deck thirty. Two men have been injured.

I focused my mind on the door, willing it to open. It unsealed, sliding back into the wall. I half smiled. I did it! Not that it meant I could do anything, but it was nice having the ability to control anything with circuitry. I hurried into the corridor.

What's going on out there? I asked, knowing who would be listening in.

Three smaller alien vessels are in pursuit, Ian 2 said. They’ve fired upon this ship. Apparently, they've been using the other planets and asteroids to hide their presence. They're firing long-range weapons, which still gives us an advantage, but it's shrinking the closer they get.

The other ships had left so abruptly after this one had crashed into the snow that we thought they’d left because we either weren’t as much a threat as they had thought or they were busy gathering reinforcements. If it hadn’t been for Ian 2 interfacing with the ship’s computers, this thing would still be a piece of trash on Unit 51’s front lawn, awaiting scavenging.

How long have they been following us? I asked, pulling my hair back in a ponytail.

Unsure. They’ve just now shown up on radar. My guess would be they were wondering where we were headed and why so slowly. Now that our course is obvious, they’re probably trying to keep us from joining forces with Space 51.

But why now?

Again, this is speculation, but we had taken over their spaceship and managed to operate it just as they had. If that is a feat we could accomplish in a matter of days, then who knew what else we’re capable of in such a short period of time?

They were afraid of us. That was a first. Had I been them, I would've hung back and observed before putting my ass on the line, too. Why start a fight until you were sure it was the one you could win?

Shoeless, I bolted out of my room and headed down the corridor. Dr. Coolidge noticed me and offered up a glare that said he’d make me pay. He would just have to get in line with everyone else.

When I reached the main part of the infirmary, I jetted past Gunther, who yelled at my back and most likely muttered a curse in German. On the other side of the bay, my brother Elias almost crashed into me trying to make it to the door.

The hair looks good, Elias said, grinning.

Oh, shut up. The last thing I needed was a reminder that a huge patch had been shaved near my ear and the hair had just started growing back. The only thing that made me look somewhat human was wearing my hair back on my head. Anything else and I’d look like I had let a crackhead hairdresser had given me a trim.

Come on, Elias said. He cupped my elbow and hurried me through the door. Behind us, Gunther and two other orderlies were coming. Seal it, Ian 2. At least until we can get to the bridge.

That was the nice thing about having a brother who was a triplet. He always knew how I thought.

We continued down the hall until we came to a lift and ordered the elevator to take us to the top floor. Another shell or laser blasted the side of the ship. The lights flickered as we regained our balance.

Are we firing back? I asked.

Yes, Ian 2 replied. But unfortunately, the colonel is used to giving orders about when and what to aim at. If he would let his crew relinquish control to me, I might stand a better chance at hitting one of them.

You might? Elias shook his head. What’s that supposed to mean? Either you’ll lock in on them or you won’t.

I can lock in on them. However, the odds are three against one. Not to mention, I was able to repair this ship, but there is still another twenty-nine percent left to attend to. Those repairs are put on hold because I must divert power to the shields.

The lift door opened. We hurried down the hall past several other officers who were on their way to whatever proverbial fire they needed to put out. When we arrived on the main bridge, we were greeted with people so busy that they didn’t have time to respond to our presence. Elias motioned for me to go to the side and stay out of the way.

I watched from the panoramic viewer as the same three ships that had attacked Unit 51 fire lasers at us. Strange. From this vantage point, they didn't look any smaller.

Damage report, Colonel Kendrick yelled over his shoulder to a staff member.

We’re venting atmosphere on the lower third of the ship, the female officer said. But… She looked over her controls, slightly confused. I think Ian 2 has already taken care of sealing that section off.

Stop having him take care of this ship and have him take care of us, I said.

The colonel turned on me. Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere else?

I was cleared, I lied.

Good to know. He hurried to the other side of the bridge. Now, do us all a favor and stay out of the way. We're in an enemy engagement.

But I’m serious. Ian 2 knows how to work the weapons better than anyone on board. He’s spent more time under the hood than anyone else. But it won’t make any difference if we don’t get some help to fight those things off.

Another explosion rocked the ship so badly