THIS STORY HAS A YAWN RANKING OF 12,,IT’S A LONG STORY…BUT TO BE NICE I’LL POST IT IN
SEGMENTS…HOPE YOU CAN FOLLOW ALONG…
(Johnson)…Sir,, you had better see this…
(director Petersen)…What is it Johnson?...
We have some new images from MRO streaming in now sir,,
appears to be an avalanche or rock slide near the northern polar region…
Real time?...
Yes sir…nearly…
OK,, I have it… Damn…that’s going to make a lot of the geologist’s boys happy…
Shit… Johnson… Johnson…lock down your data link and transfer all MRO images to NASA Delfi2 internal code link only,, transfer MRO data for the last three days to my
terminal,, then lock down your station and meet me in my office…Johnson?...
Yes sir…
(knock,, knock)…Sir?...
Come in Johnson…
What is it sir?...
What security grade are you?...
I’m just a grade 2 sir… what is it?...
Well,, you’ve just been promoted to grade 4,, sign this…
What is it?...
National Security Act #157m6nl…giving you top secret clearance…sign it or I’ll have you put under house arrest until I can clear things with director Elachi…
Yes sir…
Thanks Johnson,, it will make things a lot easier if you cooperate…anything I tell you now is strictly top secret and you could be shot or put in prison for life if you should divulge any of this…do you understand?...
Yes sir… you have my cooperation…what is it?...
How much of the MRO avalanche data did you see?...
It was just beginning to be de-coded when I noticed the dust cloud sir,, that’s when I notified you…I saw maybe the first twenty seconds of it sir…
OK,, good… have a look at this and tell me what you see…
Zoom into the lower left hand corner at the beginning of the landslide…
Just a lot of dust sir..
Zoom in as close as you can…
Oh,, shit…
Yeah that was my reaction too…
(click)…sorry to interrupt director Petersen…But my phone
systems locked up with everyone wanting to know what’s wrong with the MRO data…what should I tell them?...
That’s OK Shirley,, tell them we’re looking into it and we think its just a temporary glitch…oh,, and have Bob Jenkins come to my office immediately,, my office not on the phone…then book me a flight to Houston for this afternoon…
Yes sir…
Thanks Johnson,, just go back to your station and act as
confused and frustrated by the MRO data glitch as everyone else…and remember what I said about this being top secret…
Yes sir,, I can see why…
(27 hours later at Nasa’s Neutral Buoyancy Lab #3 in Houston)
(four men in black suits along with 1 marine MP,,
approach the guard at the entrance to practice dive pool #2…
Flashing badges of ID they ask…”where’s Colonel Pike?”… the guard points to a 40ish year old man in a blue jumpsuit and the far end of the practice pool)…
Are you Colonel Pike?...
Yeah that’s me…
SSN 456-98-2378,, born Youngtown,, Ohio?...
Yeah,, what’s this about?...
Come with us sir…
I’m not going anywhere,, I’m right in the middle of a
practice drive for STS #131…
Sergeant please escort the Colonel…(the marine MP moves behind Colonel Pike)…
OK,, OK,, what your authority?...
That’s classified…
Jim,, Jim…finish up for me here will ya?...these gentlemen have something important to talk with me about…
(3 black Hummers roll away from the research building,, windows tinted black,, body and frame of each vehicle sits lower than normal due to the armor plating and bullet proofing)…
Where are we going?,, can you tell me what’s up now?...
Sign here sir…you know the drill…
Yeah,, I know… sounds like a ‘Panama go now don’t tell
mission’ again…
Exactly sir…
If we’re headed to the airport,, you guys are going in the
wrong direction…
(silence)
(for 35 minutes the black caravan continues down the road,, seeming for all the world oblivious to anything around it…a creature unto itself with only one purpose in life…finally it halts parallel to Highway 10)…
Please get out of the car now sir…
What the hell?...there’s nothing here but the highway…
(a strange quiet not normally associated with the busy Highway 10 surrounds the caravan…no vehicles
going in either direction…an eerie quiet as the men wait)
What are we waiting for?...there’s nothing here…
Your ride sir…
(a sonic boom breaks the quiet,, Colonel Pike looks up to see the white contrail of a jet plane high above…another sonic boom)…
(A solid black B2 bomber makes a low pass over the vacant
highway and lands towards the Western end of the highway,,
taxing forward until its alongside Colonel Pike and the parked Hummers…a small step ladder descends from the underbelly of the bomber as it waits,, its engines are deafening)…
Your ride sir…
(Colonel Pike is stunned,, he knew he wasn’t that important for someone to shutdown 20 miles of highway,, was anyone?)…
(Ascending the small step ladder he is helped up into the
bomb-bay hatch by a young man in what looks to be a
Halo-jump suit,, there are two other men already seated on the small woven strap bench,, Colonel Pike can’t see any service or rank insignia )…
Put this on sir,, (the young man hands Colonel Pike a
jump suit the same type as the one he’s wearing)…just in case sir…strap yourself in…it can be bumpy…
Where are we going?...
Best strap yourself in sir…
(the small ladder rises and the bomb-bay doors swing shut…the giant engines of the bomber propel the ship ahead with ease,, the noise inside the hanger bay is overpowering,, and would be intolerable if not for the flight helmets everyone was wearing…it wasn’t long before the B2 was once again in the sky and Colonel Pike could only wonder
where it would land)…
---------------------------------------------------------------------
END OF PART ONE…………
(director Petersen)…What is it Johnson?...
We have some new images from MRO streaming in now sir,,
appears to be an avalanche or rock slide near the northern polar region…
Real time?...
Yes sir…nearly…
OK,, I have it… Damn…that’s going to make a lot of the geologist’s boys happy…
Shit… Johnson… Johnson…lock down your data link and transfer all MRO images to NASA Delfi2 internal code link only,, transfer MRO data for the last three days to my
terminal,, then lock down your station and meet me in my office…Johnson?...
Yes sir…
(knock,, knock)…Sir?...
Come in Johnson…
What is it sir?...
What security grade are you?...
I’m just a grade 2 sir… what is it?...
Well,, you’ve just been promoted to grade 4,, sign this…
What is it?...
National Security Act #157m6nl…giving you top secret clearance…sign it or I’ll have you put under house arrest until I can clear things with director Elachi…
Yes sir…
Thanks Johnson,, it will make things a lot easier if you cooperate…anything I tell you now is strictly top secret and you could be shot or put in prison for life if you should divulge any of this…do you understand?...
Yes sir… you have my cooperation…what is it?...
How much of the MRO avalanche data did you see?...
It was just beginning to be de-coded when I noticed the dust cloud sir,, that’s when I notified you…I saw maybe the first twenty seconds of it sir…
OK,, good… have a look at this and tell me what you see…
Zoom into the lower left hand corner at the beginning of the landslide…
Just a lot of dust sir..
Zoom in as close as you can…
Oh,, shit…
Yeah that was my reaction too…
(click)…sorry to interrupt director Petersen…But my phone
systems locked up with everyone wanting to know what’s wrong with the MRO data…what should I tell them?...
That’s OK Shirley,, tell them we’re looking into it and we think its just a temporary glitch…oh,, and have Bob Jenkins come to my office immediately,, my office not on the phone…then book me a flight to Houston for this afternoon…
Yes sir…
Thanks Johnson,, just go back to your station and act as
confused and frustrated by the MRO data glitch as everyone else…and remember what I said about this being top secret…
Yes sir,, I can see why…
(27 hours later at Nasa’s Neutral Buoyancy Lab #3 in Houston)
(four men in black suits along with 1 marine MP,,
approach the guard at the entrance to practice dive pool #2…
Flashing badges of ID they ask…”where’s Colonel Pike?”… the guard points to a 40ish year old man in a blue jumpsuit and the far end of the practice pool)…
Are you Colonel Pike?...
Yeah that’s me…
SSN 456-98-2378,, born Youngtown,, Ohio?...
Yeah,, what’s this about?...
Come with us sir…
I’m not going anywhere,, I’m right in the middle of a
practice drive for STS #131…
Sergeant please escort the Colonel…(the marine MP moves behind Colonel Pike)…
OK,, OK,, what your authority?...
That’s classified…
Jim,, Jim…finish up for me here will ya?...these gentlemen have something important to talk with me about…
(3 black Hummers roll away from the research building,, windows tinted black,, body and frame of each vehicle sits lower than normal due to the armor plating and bullet proofing)…
Where are we going?,, can you tell me what’s up now?...
Sign here sir…you know the drill…
Yeah,, I know… sounds like a ‘Panama go now don’t tell
mission’ again…
Exactly sir…
If we’re headed to the airport,, you guys are going in the
wrong direction…
(silence)
(for 35 minutes the black caravan continues down the road,, seeming for all the world oblivious to anything around it…a creature unto itself with only one purpose in life…finally it halts parallel to Highway 10)…
Please get out of the car now sir…
What the hell?...there’s nothing here but the highway…
(a strange quiet not normally associated with the busy Highway 10 surrounds the caravan…no vehicles
going in either direction…an eerie quiet as the men wait)
What are we waiting for?...there’s nothing here…
Your ride sir…
(a sonic boom breaks the quiet,, Colonel Pike looks up to see the white contrail of a jet plane high above…another sonic boom)…
(A solid black B2 bomber makes a low pass over the vacant
highway and lands towards the Western end of the highway,,
taxing forward until its alongside Colonel Pike and the parked Hummers…a small step ladder descends from the underbelly of the bomber as it waits,, its engines are deafening)…
Your ride sir…
(Colonel Pike is stunned,, he knew he wasn’t that important for someone to shutdown 20 miles of highway,, was anyone?)…
(Ascending the small step ladder he is helped up into the
bomb-bay hatch by a young man in what looks to be a
Halo-jump suit,, there are two other men already seated on the small woven strap bench,, Colonel Pike can’t see any service or rank insignia )…
Put this on sir,, (the young man hands Colonel Pike a
jump suit the same type as the one he’s wearing)…just in case sir…strap yourself in…it can be bumpy…
Where are we going?...
Best strap yourself in sir…
(the small ladder rises and the bomb-bay doors swing shut…the giant engines of the bomber propel the ship ahead with ease,, the noise inside the hanger bay is overpowering,, and would be intolerable if not for the flight helmets everyone was wearing…it wasn’t long before the B2 was once again in the sky and Colonel Pike could only wonder
where it would land)…
---------------------------------------------------------------------
END OF PART ONE…………
