Solutions: The Dilemma of Hopelessness - James Gerard (novel books to read txt) 📗

and handed directly over to both receivers.”

 

Charles looked to the clustered insignia pinned to the man’s collar and asked, “What do you mean by receivers colonel?”

 

“The log indicates Timothy also received a copy.  It also indicates that they read the communiqué, and then fed them to the shredder.”

 

Oh great! thought Charles.  She’s got Timothy doing something.  He glanced at the enclosed, attached waste container, but the clump of tangled remains were nowhere in sight.  “Did either one happen to mention what the communiqué was about?”

 

“I wasn’t on duty this morning.”

 

“Have there been any other communiqués sent to either one of them since?”

 

“Nope.”

 

Charles reached into one of his pants’ pockets.  If I could just find the remains of the communiqué, he thought, I should be able to piece it together.  He smiled.  “Thank you colonel.”

 

Charles glided out from the communication center, and then peered over the map in the privacy of the vacant tube.  He stabbed at the handrails, propelling the body towards the direction of the station’s operation center.

 

“Hello,” said Charles as he laid eyes on a woman floating about the room.”

 

“May I help you?” she asked.

 

“Quite a large station isn’t it?”

 

“Huh, huh,” she replied as she maneuvered over to the various flashes of monitors and windows at the opposite end of the room.

 

Charles glided over to her.  “By the way, my name is Charles.  And you are?”

 

“Colonel Cunningham,” she replied, then turned her back to the monitors.  “Is there anything I can help you with?”

 

“I’m just fascinated with the technological aspects of the station is all.  I wonder, how do you handle the waste material here?”

 

“All biodegradable waste is processed on the station.  Non-biodegradable material is transported down to Earth for disposal.”

 

“I see,” Charles responded.

 

“How often….”

 

“Excuse me,” Colonel Cunningham interrupted.  She depressed a button on a panel.  “Ground command, releasing shuttle to your control.”

 

Charles looked through a window.  “Excuse me, is that a passenger vehicle?” he inquired as he saw the winged body pull away from the station.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Is it carrying anybody or anything?”

 

“Just some station personnel and refuse.”

 

“Of course it is,” laughed Charles.  “And isn’t the timing just perfect.”

 

“What’s so funny?” asked Colonel Cunningham.

 

“Just space happy,” answered Charles with a big grin stretching across the face.

 

Realizing she could be of no further use, Charles sneakily glided out of the room.  He mumbled in the corridor as he referred to the tattered map.  Once the desired destination was found, he darted back to the maintenance bay.

 

“Excuse me Justin.  It’s of the utmost importance that I see Timothy.  I don’t care who says otherwise.”

 

Justin rotated away from the computer terminal to Charles.  “I told you, Robert said that he is to be left alone for the time being.”

 

“But it’s important that I see him now!  I must see him now.”

 

“Sorry,” said Justin as he returned the attention back to observing the monitor.

 

“Then where is Robert?”

 

“Will you relax.  He’s inspecting the engines.”

 

“I need to see him or talk with him,” demanded Charles.  He glided to a window to see if he could eye Robert or the rover, but the girth of the rear engines hindered the view.

 

Justin looked to Charles.  “What’s your hurry anyway?”

 

“There are matters that I need to brief him on.”

 

“It can't wait?”

 

“Let me talk to Robert,” Charles again demanded.

 

“Can’t do.  He turned off his communications.”

 

Charles clutched a handrail with one hand then pounded on the window with the other.  “Then get me a rover right now!”

 

“Relax Charles.  He’s performing a crucial engine inspection.  He doesn’t want to be bothered.”  Justin returned to the flashing lights of the computer terminal.  “If you want to see him, he’ll be finished in about eight hours.  You can talk with him then.”

 

Charles realized that his behavior was about to burst with an explosion of frustration as the urge to punch through the window pulsed in the thoughts.  And as much as that act would have brought immeasurable pleasure, he knew he had better resist the temptation if he were to ever see Robert, let alone Timothy.

 

“I’m sorry Justin,” he meekly offered.  He leaned his forehead onto the window.  “It’s just very important that I talk with him.  Just talk with him.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” responded Justin.  “You’ll get your chance.”

 

“But in the meeting everything was given the go-ahead wasn’t it?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Then there is no reason for Robert to be out there.”

 

“Excuse me.  I have work to do,” Justin said as he scanned a scrolling list on a monitor.

 

Charles squeezed the hand support in an attempt to transfer the raging impulses to the grip.  One way or another, he thought, I am going to talk with Timothy and talk with him now.  His thoughts concentrated on a way to bypass the automons about him.

 

He rotated around, slowly reached out to the string of hand supports lining the walls, and floated over to the pressure doors.  The doors would not swish open for him.

 

A helmet suspended freely about the bay caught his attention.  His arms slowly reached out and took hold of it then maneuvered it over his head.

 

“Timothy.  Can you hear me?” he whispered, but only static penetrated the hearing.  He glanced at Justin busy inputting data at the computer terminal.

 

Charles quietly turned the dial to the right.  “Timothy, can you hear me?”

 

“Who’s on this channel?” a voice blared in his ears.

 

He switched to a third channel.  “Timothy?  Timothy?  Can you hear me?”  Again, only static responded to the plea.

 

“There has to be a way,” he whispered.  Charles then guided himself to a worker perched in front of a set of flashing lights.

 

“Excuse me,” he said to the man.  He took a quick peak at Justin to make sure he was still busy at the computer, “can you get me an inspection rover?”

 

“For what purpose?” the worker asked.

 

“I need to talk with Robert.”

 

“He’s busy.”

 

“I know, I know, I know.  I just need to ask him something.”

 

“Maybe I can answer your question.”

 

“No,” said Charles in a hushed volume.  “This has nothing to do with the ship.  Now please, I would appreciate access to a rover.”

 

“Can’t do that.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I don’t have the authority.”

 

“Look then, is there any possible way I can talk to Robert?”

 

“Justin,” the worker called out.

 

“No,” whispered Charles.

 

“Charles needs a rover.”

 

Charles snapped his head in the direction of Justin just in to time to witness his fist slam onto a control panel. “What are you doing?”

 

“I’m activating Robert’s emergency beacon.”

 

Charles flung himself over to Justin.  He quickly stabbed at a hand support as a wall was about to strike him.  “Tell him I demand to see Timothy now.”

 

“Sorry Robert…Charles is requesting…I know.”  Justin reached to a dial on the terminal and jerked it to the left.  “He’s right here Robert.”

 

“Clear the bay,” said Robert.

 

Static drowned out the sound of print heads clattering out information, apparent mumbles between Justin and the other workers as they glided out of the bay.  “Are they gone Charles?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“What is your problem?”

 

“I have to brief Timothy on matters you aren’t aware of and that do not concern you.  Do you understand?”

 

“Listen, you can talk with him after the walkthrough—do you understand?”

 

“No.  Now!”

 

“Charles, for crying out loud.  Just be patient.”

 

Charles pounded a fist onto a terminal.  “What is going on Robert?  Why won’t you let me see him?”

 

“We’re running behind schedule is all.”

 

“Your time schedule has nothing to do with what I need to say to Timothy.”

 

“He’s busy with the terrariums.  He needs to focus on that.”

 

“You have no authority to keep me from him,” shouted Charles.  His words echoed about the wall of the empty tube.  Computer lights flashed their presence.  “You’re just responsible for the ship.”

 

“Like hell I don’t.”  Robert’s response vibrated the speaker.

 

“I’m the solution’s executive.”

 

“Maybe security ought to escort you to your quarters,” said Robert in a calm tone.  “I think the weightless environment has affected you more that you realize.”

 

“I apologize,” offered Charles, knowing that if he upset Robert further, the opportunity to go aboard the ship to speak with Timothy might be denied.  “It’s just that my personal stake in this mission has occupied my life for what seems like forever, that I just want to make sure things go smoothly.”

 

“I can understand that,” said Robert.  “But just relax.  You’ll get an opportunity to talk with him.”

 

Charles sighed.  “Fine.  How much longer until you are through?”

 

“If there are no more interruptions, about six hours.”

 

“Alright then.  I’ll see you later.”

 

Charles squeezed his eyelids shut.  Thoughts scattered through the mind as he figured a way to find out what was going on behind his back.

 

He peered over the bay to identify any terminal that might grant access to the security cameras aboard the station, but none such terminal was present.  He then jerked the tattered map from a pocket, peered at the lines, right angles, and curves.  His eyes scanned the labels of modules and pathways that intersected, crossed, curved to the left, the right, up and down.  “Yes,” he whispered.  “The observation lounge.”

 

This was maybe his last hope, his only realistic chance to discover what was going on.

 

Soaring into the lounge, an object resembling a smart phone was taken out of a pocket and held firmly in hand.  Charles aimed the device in the direction of Washington, but could not be sure if the aim was on target due to the spotty cloud mass hovering above the east coast.

 

“Answer,” he whispered as a finger tapped the screen, while another scrolled through the location menu.  Silence only responded.

 

He jammed the device back into a pocket as it was apparent that his friend was unable or unwilling to respond to the call.

 

He glanced at the time.  Time was running out.  The communication center, he thought.  Maybe I can contact her from there.

 

Charles wildly propelled his body through the tubes and corridorsthat were void of sound and bright light.

 

He reached the room, but the door to the communication center disregarded his presence and refused admittance.  He peered through a slit of a window and saw only a lone indicator light shine in the darkness.

 

Do I risk it? he thought.  An alarm might scream out to security, or whoever picks up the receiver on the other end could be aware of a communications blackout and alert the station of an intruder aboard?

 

“Sir,” a voice shouted, disturbed the silence, “what are you doing?”

 

Charles slowly rotated around and noticed the laser beam focused between his eyes.  “Relax, I was only looking for someone to give me directions back to my quarters.”

 

“Why didn’t you use the intercom?”

 

“I didn’t want to bother you guys again.”  Charles slowly reached his fingers into a shirt pocket.  “Look.  Here is my identification badge.”

 

The guard grabbed if from his hand, eyed the picture and the number indicating the most trusted security clearance.  “It’s Charles Stevens,” reported the guard.  “Come with me sir.”

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“To your quarters.”

 

The guard took the lead position.  Charles tailed him to the left, the right, down, to the left again, and then back to the right.  Once they reached the quarters, the guard hung silently suspended until Charles glided into the assigned module.

 

He swatted a roast beef sandwich out of the way and pushed a frantic pace between the walls.  Robert should be finished by now, he thought.  He buzzed and buzzed the intercom.  “Security.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Charles Stevens here.  I will be going to the maintenance bay.”

 

“Proceed.”

 

Charles stabbed at the handrails wondering if Hell really did exist as he proceeded to the bay.  Now he would see Timothy.  No more excuses.

 

He spotted Justin alone in the bay, anchored in front of a computer terminal staring at its lights reduced to a few intermittent flashes.

 

“Justin.”

 

“What now Charles?”

 

“When is the team going aboard?”

 

“Robert put it off until tomorrow morning.”

 

“But Robert said….”

 

“There’s nothing I can do about it,” snapped Justin.

 

“Then can I see Timothy now?”

 

“For the last time, you’ll have to talk to Robert about that, but….”

 

“Let me take a wild guess,” interrupted Charles while shaking his head, “he’s in his quarters sleeping, and he doesn’t want to be disturbed.”

 

Suddenly Charles caught a glimpse of two sentries gliding into the room.  His heart raced and he fixed his sights on one of them.

 

“Come on,” said Justin as he slipped his feet