The initial fold, p.1
The Initial Fold, page 1
part #1 of The Fold Series
The Initial FOLD
Nick Adams
Copyright © 2019 by Nick Adams
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
For Rachel.
Thank you for your unbridled patience,
love and knowledge.
Contents
Prologue
German Border – Kroisbach, Austria
1. Department of Astrophysics, Canterbury University, England
2. Biggin Hill Airport – Bromley, England
3. Xavier Lake’s Office – Lake AeroSpace, Dubai
4. Johnson Space Centre – Houston, Texas
5. The Oval Office, The White House – Washington DC
6. Medical Suite, Johnson Space Centre
7. Kennedy Space Centre – Florida
8. Construction Facility, Lake AeroSpace – Dubai
9. Armstrong Station – orbiting Earth
10. Tiangong Space Station – orbiting Earth
11. Tiangong Space Station – orbiting Earth
12. Armstrong Station – orbiting Earth
13. Tiangong Space Station
14. The Cartella Spaceplane – location as yet unconfirmed
15. The Oval Office – Washington DC
16. Test Plane 71 – position unconfirmed
17. The Cartella Spaceplane –
18. Emporos Class Freighter – entering the Krix’ir System
19. Alongside Alien starship – 126 Light Years from Earth
20. The Cartella Spaceplane – Proxima Centauri, Constellation Centaurus
21. Theo Starship Gabriel – unknown location
22. GDA Cruiser Katadromiko 37 – en route to Dasos
23. Theo Starship Gabriel – Trelorus System,
24. GDA Cruiser Katadromiko 37 – en route to Dasos
25. Theo Island – the planet Panemorfi
26. GDA Cruiser Katadromiko 37 – stationary, Polemistis System
27. Theo Island – the planet Panemorfi
28. GDA Freighter – en route to Gaia
29. Selene (Earth’s Moon) – Helios System
30. Theo Starship Gabriel – Helios System
31. Lake Beresford Lodge – DeLand, Florida, USA, Earth
32. Theo Starship Gabriel – Earth High Orbit (Cloaked)
33. Emergency Operations Centre, White House – Washington DC
34. Theo Starship Gabriel – approaching Krix’ir
35. Gerousia Detention Suite – Dasos, Prasinos System
36. Theo Starship Gabriel – orbiting Krix’ir
37. Kordoni Elevator – Kentro, Dasos, Prasinos System
38. The Cartella – stationary in the Aspro System
39. Theo Starship Gabriel – Paradeisos High Orbit, Aspro System
40. Spilaio Subterranean City – Paradeisos, Aspro System
41. Stathmos Vasi Station – orbiting Dasos, Prasinos System
42. The Cartella – Paradeisos, Aspro System
43. Subterranean Crew Station 713 – Paradeisos, Aspro System
44. Theo Starship Gabriel – orbiting Paradeisos, Aspro System
45. Theo Starship Gabriel – orbiting Paradeisos, Aspro System
46. Theo Starship Gabriel – en route to Dasos, Prasinos System
47. Stathmos Vasi Station – orbiting Dasos, Prasinos System
Epilogue
The Red Lion Inn – Kent, England, Earth
From The Author
The Initial Fold
© Nick Adams
Prologue
German Border – Kroisbach, Austria
May 2nd 1945, 10:38 A.M.
The lone American soldier wobbled the heavy military bicycle down the narrow lane. He’d only learned to ride the contraption a few hours ago and his balance was far from perfect. He was uncomfortable as the saddle was hard and his uniform trousers were made from a coarse material which chafed his legs as he pedalled.
Even though it was late spring now, it was still quite chilly on this overcast morning and an occasional spot of drizzle made him rue the decision of accepting this particular assignment.
He knew the apprehension he felt was justified, as, even though the majority of the remaining German forces were allegedly several kilometres away, in full retreat towards Berlin, he’d heard reports of lone German snipers hiding in order to harass the oncoming Allied troops.
He kept his eyes on the ditches and hedgerows, checking for anything unusual, looking for a particular man he hoped to find, rather than a sniper’s bullet.
Sure enough, as he rounded the next bend, and approaching a wooded area on the outskirts of Kroisbach, a very nervous-looking, smartly-dressed civilian man stepped out from the trees and signalled the soldier to stop. Anxiously looking up and down the lane, he approached the American soldier.
‘Myself and brother and colleagues like to surrender to American forces – are important prisoner,’ he said in broken English.
‘What’s your name?’ the American asked, even though he knew exactly who he was.
‘Magnus von––’
An American military truck suddenly rounded the bend behind them and braked to a stop in the middle of the road. The German stopped mid-sentence and appeared to be visibly shaking.
‘It’s okay,’ he said, pointing at the truck. ‘It’s American.’
He put his bike on the ground and walked over to the truck to speak to the driver. ‘There are some important civilian prisoners here who wish to surrender to us,’ he said loudly, in an American accent, so the German could overhear. ‘Can we utilise your truck to get them back to safety?’
‘Sure thing,’ the driver said, nodding and smiling, first at the soldier, and then at the German.
The soldier turned and walked back over to Magnus.
‘Are your friends nearby?’ he asked.
Magnus raised his hat in the air three times and twelve other men slowly materialised out of the woods, all looking nervous and constantly checking up and down the road.
‘Jump in, fellas,’ said the soldier, giving the truck driver a wink.
As they trooped towards the truck, the soldier dipped his hand into his front pocket. Singling out one of the approaching Germans, who had his left arm in a cast and sling, he removed his hand from his pocket and shook the man’s right hand.
‘It’s good to meet you sir,’ the soldier said. ‘We were hoping you were safe.’
The German looked surprised and nodded, and, with help from his friends, clambered aboard the back of the truck.
Finally, once they were all loaded, the soldier passed the bicycle up and hopped aboard. The driver turned the truck around and drove the short distance back to the main road and headed west.
The first time the driver crunched the gears, it got a few raised eyebrows. By the third time, the soldier noticed some of the German passengers glancing in his direction with questioning looks.
‘Antonio Ascari,’ he said, grinning and pointing at the cab.
The Germans all burst out laughing and gave him a thumbs-up. It seemed the tension surrounding the group suddenly lessened and the trepidation of their last few weeks began to dissipate.
It wasn’t long before they came across a military police jeep parked at a café in a small village. A quick explanation of the situation, the importance of the prisoners, and they handed their cargo over to two very pleased MPs, who seemed quite excited to take charge of the now-smiling Germans.
Before too many questions were asked, they roared off back the way they came, driving a couple of kilometres before taking a right turn up a dirt track, and ditching the borrowed truck and bicycle in a small copse of trees.
They walked on through the still, silent, dripping firs to a small empty clearing and stopped to ensure they were unseen.
Once they were completely satisfied they were alone, one of the soldiers spoke softly.
‘Airlock open,’ he said.
Out of thin air, some floating steps and a doorway appeared. They climbed up and entered, the doorway closed, and the soldiers were gone.
After a deep rumbling, and an unusual sudden squall of wind, the small clearing in the middle of the copse was again still, silent and empty.
The cloaked Theo starship sat in a low stationary orbit above Germany, waiting. Even from this height, smoke could still be seen emanating from Helgoland, Berlin, Lubeck and Berchtesgaden, gusting away with the prevailing wind, up into the jet stream.
The last heavy Allied bombing raids over Germany had ceased only a week before, and during the raids, the Theos had needed to be very careful where they landed their cloaked shuttle.
Even when it was fully shielded, a couple of errant bombs nearby could still damage the small ship. That, and the consequences of being discovered in this system, let alone influencing the development of such a juvenile human race, would not be overly beneficial to their plans – or appreciated by the galaxy’s ruling council.
Especially if it became apparent exactly how much manipulation had been in play.
The small shuttle rose up out of the atmos phere, almost underneath the much larger, cloaked starship, the two Theos allowing the sentient computer to pilot the small ship.
The computer uncloaked the shuttle and commanded one of the starship’s hangar bay doors to retract. The shuttle entered the hangar, emitting a feint buzz as it pushed through an invisible atmosphere shield. It slowly turned and settled on retractable skids next to another identical ship.
The two Theos, both wearing 1945 American military fatigues of the 44th Infantry Division, exited the shuttle and hurried up through the starship to the bridge.
Two other Theos were reclining on control couches, which overlooked a giant holographic system map. One removed his strange-looking helmet and stood up to meet them.
‘Did everything go to plan?’
‘Yes,’ said one of the arrivals. ‘Although he had us worried for a while.’
‘In what way?’
‘He sent his brother, Magnus, to surrender.’
‘But you got to meet Wernher, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, I did. I was able to shake his hand; the nano material was safely transferred.’
‘How was his arm?’ their commander asked, glaring at the other arrival, who looked down at the floor in embarrassment.
‘It had to be re-broken and set properly a couple of weeks ago.’ He smiled and scratched his nose. ‘Well, properly as far as this planet’s primitive medicine goes anyway. But to be fair to my partner, he had no idea the nanos programming would have that reaction and cause his driver to fall asleep at the wheel.’
‘No, I suppose not.’
‘The good news is,’ said the first arrival, ‘Wernher von Braun is alive and he’s with the Americans. He’s fit and ready to carry on with his rocket research influenced towards space exploration, rather than weapons, and the Saturn Five nanos will activate in about fifteen years’ time. So, the mission was a success.’
‘Yeah, you’re right,’ he said, sitting, then reclining back on the control couch. ‘Next, we need to start looking at the American politicians.’
‘How long do you think it will be?’ asked the first arrival.
‘For what?’
‘The Americans to venture into space.’
‘About ten or so of their years; that’s why we need to start influencing the most likely White House candidates.’
‘Have we written off the Russians?’
‘Absolutely not. Although with today’s little push in the right direction, I’m betting on the Americans. Especially if we can get similar contact with a future president.’
‘And what about instigating jump capabilities?’
‘That’ll need to be at least a hundred years away. Anything less will appear suspicious. As has been our brief for centuries, we need to make all this look like natural scientific progression.’
‘Okay – so what’s our next project?’
‘Have you heard of an American family called the Kennedys?’
1
Department of Astrophysics, Canterbury University, England
November 27th 2049, 3:39 P.M.
‘Ah shit,’ said Edward Virr, glancing up from his monitor at Andy Faux, reclining on the small two-seater sofa in the corner of his study. He noticed he was reading the latest edition of Classic Sports Bike Monthly, most likely dreaming about which 1400cc petrol-powered missile he’d rebuild – and try to kill himself on next.
‘What have you buggered up now?’ Andy said, without looking up.
‘It’s a vmail from NASA.’
Andy looked up, puzzled. ‘Yeah, so? You’ve been waiting to hear from NASA for a month now. What’s the big deal?’
‘It’s from James.’
‘James who?’
‘James Dewey, you idiot. It’s not going to be James Dean, is it? He’s been dead for over ninety years,’ said Ed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.
Andy looked up suddenly. ‘What, the astronaut? The guy who first walked on Mars?’
‘Yes, he is the Administrator of NASA now.’
‘I know that. He’s actually sent you a personal vmail?’ Andy asked, suddenly very interested.
‘Yeah,’ replied Ed, now sounding a little nervous.
‘Are you sure it’s not James the chef, as one of his practical jokes?’
‘Of course I am. It’s from Kennedy Space Centre, for heaven’s sake,’ said Ed. ‘In Florida, where the Mars project space planes are,’ he added sarcastically.
‘That’s really cool,’ said Andy, tossing the magazine back on the table. ‘Does he mention me?’
‘I don’t know, I haven’t looked at it yet.’
‘Well, in your own time then – it’d be nice to know if I’m gainfully employed in the near future,’ he said, now giving Ed his full attention.
Ed looked up from his desk, over Andy’s head and out of the double-glazed corner window above the sofa.
It was late autumn in the south-east of England and the tree branches looked empty and stark against the grey sky, the stubborn last leaves having only recently fallen. The gardeners had been busy sweeping the majority of them into piles, but a stiff breeze had picked up and begun distributing them all back out again.
The air temperature struggled to reach four degrees and a light drizzle had been falling for what seemed like weeks.
Ed glanced back at the flashing icon in his inbox. It was a month now since his meeting with Kurt Haynes, the NASA Director of Engineering at the Armstrong Flight Research Centre in the Mojave Desert. The weather had been a lot warmer there and Ed had enjoyed getting away from the cold and damp, if only for a couple of days.
NASA, being NASA, had given nothing away at Ed’s presentation. He was excited, and convinced the math and physics all checked out. The lab tests had proven positive and he knew this could be a monumental leap forward for the human race. It would change the world forever.
It had been his project right from the start and he didn’t want to be left in the wings as others took that first flight.
Edward was originally from Cambridge and for the past ten years he’d run the Department of Physics and Astronomy at Canterbury University.
He’d been a leading physicist for sixteen years, with a PhD in Physics and a Masters in Aerospace Engineering. He’d spent the best part of the last ten years working on FTL – Faster than Light – theories.
The Alcubierre Drive Theory, with all its supposed insurmountable difficulties, was the starting block.
He always believed a fully operational FTL system could be achieved in his working lifetime as new technologies began to bloom in the early to mid-twenty-first century.
For the last few years, his work had been highly confidential. Neither the Dean of the university or Ed’s parents had any idea of the breakthrough. Only his colleague, Andy Faux, and a handful of senior NASA management knew that history was possibly in the making.
The healthy funding that NASA injected into the university’s budget ensured that Ed was left alone. Both Ed and Andy fully appreciated that if any knowledge of this project’s potential success got out into the media, their safety would be severely compromised. It was commonly known that all the major superpowers and several smaller countries were also experimenting to achieve the first FTL technology.
Ed’s worry was that he didn’t want to be left out of the team that made the first jump, or ‘fold’, as was his preferred terminology.
