2120 Titus Page 4

  “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not discuss pseudoscience,” Dr. Mueller replied.

  “I’m not asking for a scientific interpretation. I’m asking what you feel in your heart.”

  “I feel like I screwed up my experiment, what else do you want from me?”

  “I want you to find Jesus, let him come into your life. He died for your sins and if you believe in him, he will forgive your sins and have mercy on your soul.”

  “How much do you weigh?” Dr. Mueller asked.

  Silence. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious, how much?”

  Yapchanyk thought for another second. “One eighty probably.

  “So you’re telling me the US government paid one hundred and eighty thousand dollars to transport your waste of space up to this ship? Fuck, for that they could have put in a pool table and a dart game.”

  Chapter 5

  Hart

  The hot shower felt great on Dr. Mueller’s skin. He wondered how they were able to let him use an unlimited supply of hot water when the ship had a limited supply of water on board. How did they heat it? There must have been some sort of fast acting recycling center somewhere in the ship with a nuclear heater on board. He had a small crew cabin to himself, no larger than his old college dorm with a refrigerator, sink, toilet, shower and bed. It wasn’t much but it was a private space he could use to escape from the rest of the crew. Sort of like his old prison cell, only much, much better. His mind wandered in a day dream as the water splashed upon his skin. A dream about the far reaches of space and the long journeys he could take on this massive ship.

  Then as quickly as he was lost in a dream, he was shocked back to reality when Dr. Mueller heard a woman’s voice call his name. The shower door flung open to reveal Chief Science Officer Jessica Hart standing outside the shower stall watching him. She was holding some papers in her hand with her eyes glued to his hot wet body. “Excuse me, but we need to talk,” Hart said as she looked Dr. Mueller up and down like he was on display.

  Spinning to hide his privates, Dr. Mueller fumbled for the door to the shower but it was out of his reach. The warm water sprayed him in the face as he twisted and turned to cover himself from this female intruder. Finally he realized there was no way to cover himself and gave up. “Can you shut the door?” Dr. Mueller asked. He was annoyed.

  “I’ve seen men naked before,” Hart replied. “Lots of them.”

  “I don’t care if you’ve seen the Pope naked, close the fucking door.”

  Hart pretended like she didn’t hear Dr. Mueller and continued to stare at his naked body. It was obvious from her stare that she was turned on. She was a frumpy looking forty seven year old single woman who was five foot three and mostly tits and ass dressed in a jumpsuit and tennis shoes. For a moment she pondered joining Dr. Mueller in the shower but quickly realized they both wouldn’t fit inside the stall. “I need to go over some data with you, and I have a few questions.”

  “Can we do this later?” Dr. Mueller asked.

  Hart grabbed a towel off the sink and handed it to Dr. Mueller getting her arm wet in the process.

  “I’m not finished yet,” Dr. Mueller stated as a matter of fact.

  “Take your time, I have all day,” Hart replied. She looked like a starving diabetic gawking at a chocolate Pop Tart.

  Dr. Mueller quickly rinsed the shampoo from his hair and turned off the water. He took the towel from Hart and dried himself off. “Step back please,” Dr. Mueller said waiting for this woman to get out of his way. “Do you mind if I get dressed first?” Dr. Mueller asked.

  “That’s up to you,” Hart replied. “I prefer you this way.”

  Dr. Mueller had never been sexually harassed by a woman before, and didn’t know what to make of it. On one hand he liked the attention, but on the other he felt she was very rude. “Don’t you have a husband?” Dr. Mueller asked.

  “Yes,” Hart replied.

  “Do you think he’d approve of your behavior?”

  “What are you? Gay? Most men love female attention.”

  “No, I’m not gay, but you crossed a line. You don’t come into a man’s bathroom and open the shower door.”

  “I would say I’m sorry but I’m not. You got a nice ass, wouldn’t mind getting a piece of it later on,” Hart said.

  “How did you pass NASA’s psych evaluation?”

  “Easy, I blew every doctor that screened me,” Hart said with a grin. “I’m a nympho, I admit that, but I am the best fucking Science Officer you will ever have the pleasure to meet. Now if you want, we can get this over now or later, it doesn’t matter to me.”

  “Get what over? Do you mean this data that’s so important?”

  “No, I mean me fucking the shit out of you. I won’t be able to concentrate until I blow my wad,” Hart replied.

  Dr. Mueller was shocked at what this woman was saying. He was also offended that she thought she could tell him what to do, he was a doctor and she was just a Science Officer. Anyone could be a Science Officer. “Sorry, I have a strict policy. I don’t have sex with married women.”

  “You would if it were the right married woman,” Hart replied.

  Dr. Mueller scooted past Hart and pulled out some clothes from his dresser drawers. He sat on the bed and got dressed as quickly as he could all while Hart looked down at him, glaring and licking her fat lips. “I think it would be best if we conducted official science in the science section of the ship.”

  “Fine, have it your way,” Hart said defeated. She followed Dr. Mueller out of his cabin, down the hall and into section two where all the lab equipment was stored. Hart pulled up to a computer terminal and found a seat for Dr. Mueller to sit down. She set the paper she had on the desk and typed on the keyboard. After a few taps on the keys, a string of numbers popped up in bold black letters. “See this,” Hart said pointing to the number sequence. “This is what 2120 Titus has been broadcasting. It is the same number sequence you used in your virus program. Do you recognize it?”

  Dr. Mueller leaned in close, but not so close as to let Hart get any mixed signals. He scanned the numbers and nodded his head. Yeah, I remember that. I needed a spacer between two lines of code and I used that.”

  “What does it mean?” Hart asked.

  “It’s the Fibonacci sequence from the tenth to the twentieth position. I’m surprised you didn’t see that.”

  Hart looked closer at the numbers. They read, 5589144233377610987159725844181. “How the fuck was I supposed to figure that out?” Hart asked. They had some of the best computers on the planet working on this.”

  “So you can see why the asteroid picked up on that number sequence, it’s found in nature. I didn’t come up with any secret code.”

  Hart leaned back in her chair. “So you’re telling me they hauled your ass up here for nothing?”

  “They could have asked me before I left Earth.”

  “They got their panties in a bunch and took off before they did any kind of investigation. Now what are we going to do with you?”

  Dr. Mueller looked at Hart like she was clueless. “I’m a PhD Astrophysicist, and have a PhD in Computer Science as well. I’m probably more qualified to be aboard this ship than you are. You stupid, fat, frumpy, sexual predator.”

  “I’m not a sexual predator. They never found any evidence,” Hart replied.

  “Evidence? Are you serious? Were you charged with a sex crime?”

  Hart looked away and pretended like she didn’t hear what Dr. Mueller asked. She picked up the sheet of paper from the desk and tossed it in the recycling bin. Then she started to stand when Dr. Mueller again asked her about her past.

  “I’d rather not discuss my previous life with you if you don’t mind,” Hart replied.

  “How did you get in the space program? Don’t they screen the candidates?”

  “I told you, they didn’t find any evidence.”

  Dr. Mueller shook his head. He looked Hart in the eye and asked, �
�What did you do?”

  “Fuck off,” Hart replied as she stood up. She waddled her fat rear across the room and out the door into the hallway. She was gone.

  Chapter 6

  Drones

  Cara Lange was a tall woman, very tall. At 6’6” she stood like a bean pole and weighed around one hundred twenty pounds. To most she looked like a poster child for an eating disorder, but to the mission, she was invaluable. Not only did she supervise and conduct most of the mission work, she also was the pilot. Not that she needed to do anything, all navigation was done back on Earth by radio telemetry, but she was there in case something went horribly wrong and radio waves wouldn’t cut it.

  She stepped into the science pod and found Dr. Mueller sitting next to a computer terminal. She didn’t see Chief Science Officer Jessica Hart leave the unit, but she could smell her musty odor as it trailed behind. “That woman needs a bath,” Lange said in disgust.

  “She tried to take one with me,” Dr. Mueller replied. “I mean a shower.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, she stood there and watched me in the shower for a good three or four minutes before I told her to leave me the fuck alone.”

  “Did she?” Lange asked.

  “No, and then she had the balls to tell me she wanted to fuck me.”

  “Wow, aren’t you special,” Lange said with a grin.

  “You wouldn’t be saying that if it were the other way around,” Dr. Mueller replied.

  “She’s gross, I try to avoid her, and you should too.”

  “I’ll take your advice.”

  “What are you up to?”

  “I was explaining to that bitch the code they keep giving me credit for was nothing I did on purpose. I have no plan to contact aliens and ask them to run their asteroid into Earth.”

  “But it did seem odd,” Lange said. She took a seat at the computer terminal and logged on.

  “It was pure math, I chose the series at random but the sequence was from a known number set.”

  “I hate math,” Lange replied. “Don’t bother trying to explain, I believe you. There’s no reason why anyone from outer space would want to contact you. No offence, but I don’t think you’re anything special.”

  “That’s what I keep telling everyone, why won’t anyone believe me?”

  “That’s because people are paranoid and stupid. They can’t believe that anything can be random and that everything has to have a purpose” Lange replied.

  “Like natural selection,” Dr. Mueller replied.

  “Don’t go there, especially around Yapchanyk, he will eat you alive.”

  “You mean that religious fruitcake?”

  “He and his fellow fruitcakes paid for most of this ship, I’d watch what you say.”

  “I was already on death row, it can’t get much worse than that.”

  “Yes it can, and Yapchanyk will see to that.” Lange continued to punch keys on the keyboard and rifle through page after page of ships logs, work routines, computer program data files and communications between Earth and Plios 3.

  “What are you looking for?” Dr. Mueller asked.

  “Maintenance records for the drone,” Lange replied.

  “Drone?”

  “Actually drones, we have two.”

  “That’s cool as fuck. Where are they?”

  “They are docked inside the bow of the ship.”

  “Are they tethered?” Dr. Lange asked.

  “No, they are totally independent. They can be controlled from here or by the pilot.”

  “What is the capacity?”

  “Two, the pilot and copilot,” Lange replied.

  “The second passenger has to be a pilot?” Dr. Mueller asked. He seemed concerned.

  “Not necessarily,” Lange replied. “I’m just used to hearing it that way. Actually neither have to be pilots, we can navigate from here.”

  “Can I see them?”

  Lange punched some keys and a schematic diagram of a drone appeared on the screen. “There you go,” she said.

  “That’s pretty awesome, but I mean in person.”

  “Not until I confirm the maintenance records.”

  “What? Did they forget to put gas in them?” Dr. Mueller asked.

  “Possible, I wouldn’t go out in space without checking first. I do know there was some issue with the computer sub routine that controlled the oxygen output. It kept running into a fatal error. But they said that was all corrected.”

  “What kind of inept fucks do you have working at NASA?”

  “NASA didn’t build the drones, they were contracted out to a German Astro engineering firm Grothmann Aerospace. Most of this ship is Japanese in design, German and Chinese in construction.”

  “What’s wrong with good old American labor?” Dr. Mueller asked.

  “You’re an American, right?” Lange asked with a smile.

  “Yes, but that is American jobs. My tax dollars paid for this and I don’t want my money going overseas.”

  “Too late,” Lange replied. “If you want to see them, let’s go.”

  The walk to the bow of the ship was short as section two, the science lab was connected to the bow. The only concern Dr. Mueller had was how they were traverse into the bow since section two and the bow were in constant rotation from each other. The bow stayed on an even plane in relationship to Earth while sections two through four rotated to create artificial gravity. When Dr. Mueller arrived at the junction, he found out it was a simple process of stepping into what looked like an elevator. When he was secured inside and both doors closed, the door to the bow opened and he flew out. There was no disorientation because when the doors closed, he no longer had a reference for the spinning motion. ‘Incredible’-he thought to himself. And was weightless.

  “This way,” Lange said as she floated down the narrow corridor to the area where the drones were stored. She stopped at a ladder and led Dr. Mueller down into a substation where the two drones were docked side by side. They looked like something from a deep sea mission with clear domes for the pilots to view through.

  But there was a problem with one of the domes. The clear polymer was covered on the inside with a thin coat of what looked like blood, blood that had been splattered from the inside.

  “What’s that?” Dr. Mueller asked pointing to the red stained dome.

  “I don’t know,” Lange replied. She slid through the air over to the drone and stopped close enough to see what was hidden inside. Then she gagged and pushed herself back banging against the wall behind her. “Oh my God,” she said. “It’s Jim.”

  Dr. Mueller pushed off from the wall and glided over to the drone and looked inside. What he saw was the remains of a man floating inside the drone. Bits of brains and bone floated inside along with globs of coagulated blood and tissue. “What happened? Was there explosive decompression?” Dr. Mueller asked.

  “I don’t think so, the drones have never left the ship. They should be compressed the same as in here,” Lange replied.

  “What would cause him to blow up like that?” Dr. Mueller asked. Then he took another longer look and noticed something he hadn’t seen the first time. In Jim Diller’s hand was a pistol. “He has a gun,” Dr. Mueller said. “How the fuck did he get a gun?”

  “He’s security, he and Commander Humphry are the only ones allowed to carry a weapon.”

  “Do you think the Commander shot him?”

  “No, he was depressed. I know, we spoke a lot about it,” Lange replied. “I thought he was getting help.”

  Looking once more into the drone through the clear, blood stained bubble, Dr. Mueller tried to figure out how long Jim Diller had been there. From the looks of the clots he estimated a few hours. “When was the last time anyone spoke to him?”

  “I don’t know, the last time I saw him was yesterday,” Lange replied.

  “I don’t want to bring you down any more than you already are, but how will this affect the mission?”

&n
bsp; “We can do without a security officer, but he was also our maintenance man. If something goes wrong, we’ll have to fix it ourselves.” Lange replied.

  “That’s not what I meant, we’re down one drone now. Unless somebody’s going to clean this up.”

  Lange looked at Dr. Mueller like he had slapped her in the face. “Is that what you’re concerned with? Whether or not we can use both drones? There is a dead man in there, it’s like a grave.”

  “Hey, the last thing I want to do is offend you. But when we get to this rock, we might need to get a closer view, and if his body is still inside this drone, it will limit our ability to investigate,” Dr. Mueller said. He was trying to be diplomatic and not rub her the wrong way.

  Lange pushed away from the wall towards the stairs. She pushed herself up the stairwell and into the main section above. She hovered and waited for Dr. Mueller to follow but he didn’t. “What are you doing down there?” Lange yelled.

  “Give me a second,” Dr. Mueller yelled back.

  Lange grew tired of waiting for Dr. Mueller and reentered the science module alone. There she contacted Commander Humphry on her communications link which she wore around her wrist. Hearing of finding Diller dead in one of the drones, Humphry told Lange she would be there soon to investigate. Lange was told to stay put as well as Dr. Mueller who was still somewhere in the bow section of the ship.

  Minutes passed and the door slid open to the science section as Dr. Mueller stepped inside. He seemed different to Lange, as if he were trying to hide something. “What took you so long?” Lange asked.

  Dr. Mueller replied, “I wanted to take some pictures, so I broke into the drone. And I was wrong about one thing, he didn’t have a gun.”

  “Then what did you see in his hand?” Lange asked.

  “I think it was his phone,” Dr. Mueller replied. He seemed evasive in is answer.

  “Then explain to me why he looked like he did? What would cause all the blood, and body parts?”