“Sir, we’re going to arrive in five minutes,” the driver finally announced.
The vehicle was driving on a narrow road. To the right was a deep green forest, soggy with moisture, and to the left a lake. Even though it must be still afternoon, it was much darker than in Houston.
Wide awake now, he asked, “Where are we going to arrive?”
“At Rangeley, Maine, sir,” answered the driver. “The Navy has a training camp there, but I am sure you knew that.”
“I am going to be alone?”
“Sorry, sir, I wasn’t told anything about that. I am just supposed to drop you off at the entrance, and then you’ll never see me again.”
They had finally reached their destination. The driver pulled over, shifted into park, but kept the engine idling. “Well, here we are. Don’t forget your backpack, sir, and have a nice day.”
The driver seemed to be in a hurry. Martin took his backpack, opened the door, and got out. It was windy and cold. Not even 10 degrees, he guessed. He saw a gate made of iron bars and a smaller green door next to it that was in view of a sentry box. Martin approached and knocked on the dirty window. At first nothing happened, and then he heard the door creak. The sound of heavy boots indicated a soldier was coming toward him.
“Chief Petty Officer Miller. You are Mr. Neumaier?”
Martin handed him his NASA ID card.
“Great, then I won’t have to wait for you any longer.”
CPO Miller opened the gate and let Martin in. Then he locked it from the inside with a heavy horizontal beam.
“All the others are here already,” Miller said.
“Do you know whether someone from NASA…” Martin wondered aloud.
“Only your colleagues and the responsible Navy instructors are here. We are just among ourselves. It is going to be a cozy week.”
Martin doubted this. That is, unless our quarters have an open fireplace with bear rugs in front of it.
Miller and Martin left the sentry post and walked about 150 meters into the forest until they reached a clearing. A primitive wooden hut stood in the middle. A few meters in front of the door Martin saw a small well with a hand pump. Miller once again opened the door for him. Inside, the hut smelled musty, and it was barely warmer than outside. Eight people sat around a rustic table, their heads leaning over papers.
“Look who I brought,” Miller announced to the group.
As if on cue, everyone turned toward Martin, and he automatically blushed. I’m glad the lights are dim.
Miller did not introduce Martin, so he did it himself. “I am Martin Neumaier… The new guy.”
He couldn’t think of anything else to say. The others had surely read his file by now. A dark-haired woman got up. She was taller than he was. Martin recognized her. It was Francesca, the Italian pilot.
“Nice to have you here,” she said, greeting him. “I already told the others about our adventure.” She waved to Martin to join her.
The man next to her took a step to the side and shook Martin’s hand. Martin also recognized him. This was the engineer who had participated in developing the DFD.
“Hayato Masukoshi,” the Japanese man said. “We already know each other. And this is Amy Michaels, our commander.”
Everyone had called Amy ‘Commander’ from day one, even though there was nothing to command yet. She possessed a natural authority, despite being slender and only slightly over a meter and a half tall. Martin shook Amy’s hand. She gripped his hand firmly.
“Our ship’s doctor, Dimitri Marchenko, and Science Specialist Jiaying Li are being trained by their national space agencies. They won’t join us until we get to Tiangong-4,” Amy said with her soft voice. She reminds me of something—or someone. Martin winced, suddenly worried he might fall for her.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“I am just a bit exhausted,” he quickly replied. “There has been a lot happening recently. All my life…”
“It is the same for all of us, too. But the Navy folks here promised we should get some rest in the coming days. Isn’t that so?” Amy looked at the men in uniform.
Miller, who appeared to be the highest-ranking military person present, answered, “Active relaxation, I would say.”
October 28, 2045, Rangeley/Maine
“RISE AND SHINE! QUICK! QUICK! QUICK!” Martin opened his eyes. There was no light coming through the windows of the hut yet. Martin had not slept very well, as at least one of the men had been constantly snoring throughout the night. He yawned.
“Come on people, move faster!” Martin recognized Miller’s voice. Martin sat up and jumped down from the bunkbed. The uniform, on loan from the Navy, hung on the rear metal post of the bed. He put on his pants and tightened the belt. Jacket, boots, finished, Martin thought to himself. Oh. I still need my cap.
“Pack your backpack and get outside,” Miller ordered.
They had constructed the backpacks last night from military tarps. They contained two canteens, disinfectant tablets, a rain poncho, a knife, a compass, and a map.
Outside the door, Martin stepped into a puddle and silently cursed. Damn. It must have rained all night. He felt small raindrops fall on his skin. He tried to recognize the others, but no one was talking, and the uniforms all looked alike in the semidarkness. He only picked out Amy because she was quite a bit shorter than the others.
“MOVE OUT!”
One of the instructors started walking toward the forest. They all followed and marched through the darkness in single file. They walked endlessly and aimlessly, it seemed to Martin. The instructor changed direction so often that Martin became completely disoriented. Did his colleagues feel the same way? Twice he stumbled over tree roots, and now his knee hurt. He was not going to complain, though. For him, the entire adventure would be over in a week, since he already had decided to quit.
It had been getting lighter for a while when they finally reached a small clearing which resembled the one where the cabin was located, but no building could be seen.
“You should see something at 9 o’clock,” Miller said. The group looked to the left. Something hung in a pine tree, about five meters from the ground.
“What you are seeing here is a parachute. One of your colleagues might be hanging from it. Save him, ASCANs!”
Like the other three, Martin approached the tree. The pine was straight, and the parachute was therefore out of reach. The tree trunk was smooth, and it looked like it had been deliberately cleared of branches. Three meters up, he saw a branch that could be used for climbing.
“Should we give someone a leg up?” Amy suggested. Francesca was the tallest member of the team and would, therefore, be the support. Amy was too short, so only Martin and Hayato remained. He looked at the Japanese man, who nodded. Does that mean ‘you go ahead’ or ‘I will do that?’ Martin wondered.
“Okay, okay,” he sighed. Then I’ll climb. Francesca stood next to the trunk so he could reach the branch with his hands if she just lifted him high enough. She formed a stirrup with her hands. Martin placed his left foot on her hands and tried to grasp her shoulder. Too late—she already gave him a strong upward push. He sailed right over her head and landed in the dirt.
Martin had to laugh, no matter whether the others thought it was funny or not, because the situation seemed so bizarre to him.
“Let’s try again,” he said. Once more Francesca gave him a strong push, but this time he expected it. He stretched out soon enough that his hands reached the single branch. The branch bent under his weight and the rough bark cut into his skin, but it held. And now, what do I do next?