Ascendant Saga Collection: Sci-Fi Fantasy Techno Thriller Brandon Ellis (ebook reader for comics txt) 📖

Connor cut in, clearly excited. “Are you saying these structures are man-made?”

“There’s no evidence to suggest any planet in the solar system can support intelligent life. So, no on the aliens. My best guess, it’s human-made.”

Drew bit his cheek. “Alright, let’s get back to the subject at hand. We can discuss aliens in a minute.” He stretched his neck to the side until the bones clicked. “Colonel, you’ve admitted that this is a manned mission. But I have taken pictures of luggage, supplies, a train that can hold a dozen giant spaceships, why so many—”

“You’re wrong. You’re jumping to conclusions. You have no idea what you saw when you were...” he laughed, long and hard; Drew could just see him sneering into the cameras, “when you were scurrying around a flight hanger with too much weed in your system.”

Drew thumped his hand into the dirt. He knew it had been a mistake to give that guard a toke. “I know what I saw.”

Slade ignored him. “We’re going to be as open as we can on this. We’ve been holding back a lot of information from the public for good reason. Now, we can’t. So, we’ll be transparent to—”

“You’re planning a mass evacuation…I don’t know who’s going or when, but you have enough supplies prepped to take a few thousand people off-world…”

Slade laughed. “That’s nonsense.” He cleared his throat. “Look, the launch is happening, that much is true. We are investigating structures found on Callisto. There are structures there and we don’t know how they got there. The manned mission may take five years, but we’re well prepared. This will be the first of its kind. When we get there, we’ll conduct archaeological research. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

“Will you be airing the launch?” the anchor inquired. “Will you air everything you discover?”

“We weren’t going to air anything, but now we will. The United States of America will be the first on that moon.” Drew imagined Slade looking into the camera, like a polished politician. “I want to apologize to the American people. No, to the world. I want to apologize that the administration I head, the GSA, held back vital information from the public. We did so, as I said, for good reason, though never to harm or keep you out of the loop. Our intent was to make this mission run as smoothly as possible. We didn’t want any hiccups and we didn’t want any delays.”

Drew’s mouth dropped. So phony, so premeditated. “Who’s leading this mission?”

“I’ll pilot the first ship of its kind, First Class SS-1. We won’t give its location out. We don’t want any terrorism or espionage. Once we leave Earth’s upper atmosphere, we’ll dock with the remainder of the ship. We’re calling it...Starship Atlantis.”

“You created a starship in a month?” To Drew, that was odd. It would have already been created before they had even found the structures on Callisto. How many of these highly technological ships do they have?

“We found these structures long ago and a starship has been in production for almost as long.”

Drew could tell Slade lied. The dates TECS IV satellite took the images and sent them to GSA was in May of this year, not years ago. But before Drew could ask the myriad of questions forming in his mind, his phone died. He had enough power, but he’d lost the signal. Or, more likely, Slade’s people had arranged to have him cut off. Easy enough to do.

He slammed his hand into the back of his head. He did his best not to throw his cheap-ass burner phone on the ground and watch it splinter into a dozen pieces. He’d had a terrible interview. Slade had a great one. A disaster. The tides had turned. Drew was no longer in the limelight. Instead, it was Slade.

There had to be more to it. The man hadn’t assembled a potential army of spaceships—at least that’s what Drew was piecing together—to take a couple of archeologists into space. He needed an in. He needed data. He needed to be the investigative reporter he’d always wanted to be.

He reached into his pocket and jingled his change. First, though, he needed a doobie. It was Portland. All he needed to do was throw a rock. He didn’t even need to hit a dealer. Heck, the guy in the suit, strolling toward the MAXX, would probably sell him a blunt for a couple of bucks.

Soon as he’d smoothed his feathers, he planned to get out there and find out what Slade was up to.

38

June 8thOospore Class - 9 Dropship, Quadrant E - Earth Entry

Special Agent Nick Cole watched Earth on his view screen. The planet drew closer. In less than a minute, he’d be plummeting through Earth’s atmosphere in his dropship, a Secret Space Program Oospore Class 9. He called his dropship, Berry; after Chuck Berry, who knew how to rock his guitar and have a damned good time.

He waived his finger over a holographic button on his control panel. He patched to the Star Carrier, Star Warden. “This is SA Nick Cole, Dropship Berry. Target Grenada, Kaden Jaxx. I’m descending in forty-eight seconds. I’ll retrieve target soon and bend the throttle to our new way-point in J-quadrant. Clear.”

No reply.

He narrowed his eyes and waived his finger over the holographic button again. “Star Warden, this is SA Nick Cole, calling from Dropship Berry. Do you read?”

Nothing.

Was the comm line down?

“This is SA Nick Cole, call-sign Dropship Berry, requesting confirmation of positive Comm Line connection. Clear.”

A crackle. “SSP Oospore Berry, this is Star Warden, we read you.”

“Thank you, Star Warden. Was the comm line down? Clear.”

A long pause. “Patching Admiral Gentry Race through.”

Cole felt his back straighten, his features fall into standard “admiral on deck” formation. It wasn’t just a show. He liked the admiral. He gave him plenty of lee-way, which Cole took as a sign of respect.

“Cole?” the Admiral sounded upbeat, jovial even.

“Admiral.”

“We have