to bury a mountain

continued from part 8

A month later, Willoby was in the custody of Central, locked in a cell in some remote location, who knew where, waiting in isolation for what he didn't know. He ate whatever they pushed in front of him, and stared at water stained cement walls. Willoby swore he wouldn't talk, but he did when they dragged him out into the courtyard and put the hounds on him. He squealed and bled, but he didn't have much to say, and after a few days of dogs and fists they locked him up for good.

His recollection of events was a bit foggy, first thing. “I did find her, Jasmin Bathelte. I remember her and the astronaut at the park. I saw them from a distance and it looked like he went a little crazy.”

“We have the voice transcripts.” The mouthpiece offered no additional information. He wanted detailed visuals from their man on the ground, Willoby. Why else had they let things go that far? “What happened to the pilot after he went... crazy?”

Willoby was sweating. His left arm was a bleeding mass of shredded flesh. “There was a scuffle. And bright lights. Some sort of fire. I don't know if she threw a bomb or the pilot exploded. There are things I don't remember, or understand.”

“Was there another man there? Did someone intervene on her behalf? Did you intervene?”

“God no! I was on the roof. Something happened. Something terrible.” They didn't get much beyond that something terrible happened. Hypnosis nor further torture revealed anything.

“You stole a flying machine and deserted your station. You were to monitor the woman, and then bring her in after contact with the pilot! Instead you left and we had to put a contract on you. Well?”

“I'm an independent contractor, that was my flying machine, I stole nothing!” Willoby protested, but he knew he could have no complaints against Central.

“You'd have nothing without Central Authority, and you know it. You can't just abandon a contract. You are now forfeit to the state.” Central Authority may as well be the state. They owned everything and everybody.

“Why do they let you treat people the way you do? They circle the earth and keep us under their fishy little flippers, but then let tyrants rule the world? Someday you'll all get what's coming to you – those Europans will come down and give it all back to the people someday, you'll see.”

Central had heard it all before, but they knew the earth was of no consequence to their overlords. The Europans didn't care what happened on the planet, as long as bombs weren't flying and missiles weren't exploding, they would do nothing. In their fortress under the mountain, the talking heads sat in their circle and they played their little, global games. They would always win. “Put this vermin back in the hole. Patch him up and drug him – who knows what use we'll have for him, later.”

There was more, much more, but Willoby was telling the truth. He didn't remember the things that he purposefully chose to forget. The man who returned from the sun did that, and he promised to make it all right. Willoby would remember everything when the time came, and he would be healed – perhaps he would be reborn.


They knew something was up, but Central seemed to be quelling uprisings everywhere these last few months. Several agents convened in Florida, at Cape Canaveral. This was NASA's old stomping grounds, that twenty-first century defunct space agency. Now it was a rocket hobbyist's playground, and Central cared not at all if they wanted to shoot metal cans into the sky. Only CASA was authorized to send missions into space, and only ones that the Europans allowed. Anything else was immediately destroyed in orbit. The hobbyists didn't seem to care, and this coming launch was to be their second of the year.

The new vehicle was a replica Saturn V. It was a beautiful long cylinder with tapered fins and F-1 rocket engines. It was rumored the engines were genuine. They would be propelled by actual fuel. All hype and hogwash, thought Central. They dismissed the rumors but were looking more closely at the talk of a crew. Sitting atop the Saturn V were two additional stages that would release as the booster fell back to earth. In the former flight, the upper stages were ceremonial, but these current stages seemed to be fully functioning. There was even an immense lattice encircling the rocket with a simple elevator to transport people to the top capsule. All was observed, and some suited people were seen entering and exiting the upper stage. Their suits were bulky and identification was impossible.

If Central was overly concerned with the launch, they didn't show it. Certainly they could have stopped it. Inquiries were made to the Europans, but no answers were made, so Central assumed nothing had changed. This stupid space mission by stupid so-called rocket scientists would be insignificant and a colossal failure like all had been before.

On a clear day in December, the rockets fired and sparks flew. It was obvious to all, the rocket and its engines were genuine. Astronauts in their suits had boarded the capsule that straddled the flying bomb below. The onlookers gasped when the capsule door swung shut and bolts were fastened. My god, but they were sending actual men to their deaths! It blasted off, climbing slowly it seemed, but soon the rocket was only a speck in the sky, then gone wholly from sight after it arced perilously in the sky. On earth the spectators waited for the boom, and for debris to fall to the ocean, but the explosion never came.

Central Authority watched from their own posts and from flying machines and from seagoing vessels, and they never saw or heard the boom, and they never saw stage one reenter the atmosphere and fall to the ocean. On shore, after a collective sigh of relief, after the tension slowly faded, the people realized what happened... what may have happened, and they cheered long and loudly.

In space, the Europans let them pass.

Willoby was their middle man. Willoby had returned to France and met with Alex and Jasmin. Willoby had traveled to North America and contacted the old NASA hobbyists. Willoby kept everyone in the loop and arrangements were made, and when the time came, Willoby allowed himself to be captured. Alex let him keep the memories that would do no harm, and hid others so deeply that only he could restore them. In his cell, crippled, Willoby smiled, but he didn't have a clue why. He gibbered like an ape and the guards shook their heads.

The stages separated, but the booster remained in earth orbit. It had additional rockets, smaller ones, that fired occasionally, keeping it stable, until the time came for the stages to reunite. In their capsule, the two astronauts looked out from a tiny porthole at the moment of separation. Small satellites also observed, swarming around the event. The Europans left them be.

“Take off your helmet,” he said, and Jasmin pulled a strap and lifted the clumsy helmet off. She let it go and it drifted freely through the cabin space. She laughed.

“Can I get out of the chair?” Jasmin asked.

“Certainly.” The man removed his helmet as well, and his head was on fire. He laughed along with his wife. Their flight from here on out would not be pleasant, and Jasmin knew it. This was the time to lighten and up and celebrate. The first part of their journey was a success.

In the capsule her hair floated above her head, and her grin was lovely. Alex smiled too, not immune even in his elevated state to the female form. “You can take off your suit now, it won't be needed from here on out. I'll keep mine on though. I wouldn't want to scorch the furniture,” he joked, and Jasmin smiled politely. She unsuited and Alex stowed it in a corner. Jasmin was clothed in a simple zippered jumpsuit. She felt like a kid in a Halloween costume.

“What now,” Jasmin asked. She was enjoying the sensation of free fall and hovered magically in the air. She knew it couldn't last.

Alex stopped smiling. “Well, there's nearly a hundred million miles left to go, and we need to slow down to achieve an even orbit before hand.”

“I'll be dead long before that happens.” She said it without emotion.

“The flesh of Jasmin will be long dead. I can make it easy for you. I can kill you painlessly, your journey will seem much faster that way.” They had had the discussion many times before. In this simple contraption there was no place to store five years of supplies, not even for one living person. Jasmin would die of thirst long before she would starve to death. A year in the capsule would almost be torture. Two years, or three would be living torture. Even if her body could struggle through to the end, surely she would go insane being inside the cramped capsule for so long.

Below the capsule, in the second stage, the burners kicked in and Alex pulled Jasmin quickly down into her chair. Gravity pushed her into the cushions and she felt heavy again. So very heavy. They were headed to the sun, to Father Sol and rebirth.

“I want to live yet, for awhile. I want to feel this flesh wither and die, so I can remember what it's like to be human, how a human lives and how a soul leaves its body, takes its last breath. I deserve that, damn it Alex!” Jasmin cursed angrily.

“And when we return, when you are born from the sun and set your fiery foot back upon the soil, then you can have empathy for the lowly creatures of the earth. You can be their queen, not just another tyrant to walk among the peasants.”

She started crying, feeling the weight of gravity push painfully, relentlessly down upon her body. Already she thirsted. “I don't want to die,” she blubbered and her nose ran with the tears as her body was racked in fear. Alex put a gloved hand on her bare arm until the crying subsided and her face took on a hardness he had not seen before. “Do not kill me too soon,” she commanded. “Even if I beg you, I will remember, and I will be furious. And do not kill me so quickly – I want you to do it slowly while you look into my eyes, while I fight you. This will be my cross, and I will not be denied.”

He understood, but still thought she was a little crazy. “I promise,” he said. “Now have some fluid, and how about some nice re-hydrated steak? If you like, I'll even slice it for you?”

There was never a follow up mission to the sun. The work Alex had done in his last days was filed and never completely investigated. His penultimate discoveries had never been documented, so CASA had little to show for the mission. Life went on and other than flights to Mars and the asteroid belt for minerals, nothing new in the area of spaceflight occurred. Europa would never allow it. The universe was safe from the humans. They would never leave this system, not in their present form.

The years passed in tyranny, as Central assumed control worldwide, and borders meant almost nothing. People were free to travel as they wanted, but few had the resources. They had food and meager wages, but little else. The earth slowly stagnated under the watchful eyes of the Europans. Little was known of their activities in orbit, or on their own world, or for that matter in the oceans of earth, where they now lived prosperously in cities miles below the waves. They took nothing from the humans but by healing the oceans, they gave plenty back. The time had come to do more – more above the cold ocean floors.

And the work began high above the planet in orbit.

The Saturn V was reequipped in space by busy mechanical hands and refueled for a hasty return to earth. It had been many years, but the Europans didn't keep time in years. The sun people were returning. All was made ready. The home bound capsule looped around the moon and slowed to a crawl, then slingshotted to earth where it assumed an orbit and braked some more. Slowly it rendezvoused with the long lost booster stage and reattached. From here it would be a short, hair raising trip to the surface of the earth. Alex and Jasmine in their suits bumped fists and smiled as the connection took place and they let the Europans aim the missile they would guide in.

“I think you should hit the gas, my dear,” said Jasmin. “This is your idea after all.” Her flowing hair was on fire.

“Affirmative. But you can eject us before impact.” Central was enshrined deep in the heart of the Rocky Mountains, but a well aimed rocket thrusting from outer earth orbit, heavily fueled, and laden with extra otherworldly devices just might make a dent in their fortifications. Still, it would be a mess even for emissaries of the sun to climb out from.

“Before?”

“Jasmin....” He punched it.

...........................................................The End