Act of God

By Paul Byers

ACT OF GOD is a collection of short, sci-fi thrillers. Reminiscent of the Twilight Zone, each story studies the human condition, putting ordinary people into extraordinary circumstances, forcing the reader to ask the question, "What would I have done in that situation?"

SHOOTING STAR
Space is an unforgiving place, and even simple decisions can make the difference between life and death. Astronaut Evan Grant is confronted by this harsh reality first hand when he’s recalled from a low orbit, low profile mission and tasked with a high priority, deep-space flight that will have repercussions affecting millions - including his wife and young son.

RESCUE MISSION
Official Mission Statement: A rescue mission to retrieve two downed astronauts who crash landed on an alien world. Hidden Objectives: One, determine if the spacecraft crashed due to mechanical failure or if it was brought down by hostile alien fire. Two, scout for possible invasion sites, depending upon the findings of the first objective. Personal Objectives: How far will the Mission Commander go to rescue the downed pilots and keep peace? How far will the Second-in-Command go to punish the aliens and promote war?

THE JOURNAL
Paranoia can make you hear things that aren’t there, see shadows in the sunlight, and turn on friends you’ve known for years. Three college students begin to have suspicions that a fellow classmate is not who or what he says he is. Are the things they suspect about him true or are they just victims of their own overactive imaginations? Perhaps they should take to heart the old proverb - just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean that someone isn’t after you.

ALL THAT GLITTERS. . .
Sex, along with greed, has been the ruin of more men than any other vice. The motivation for both is clear, but both have consequences that are often unforeseen and unpredictable. The crew of a deep-space exploration ship has stumbled upon an unknown planet and made a startling and unexpected discovery - the world is rich in untapped wealth that will enrich them beyond their wildest imaginations. The only thing standing between them and riches untold are the planet's inhabitants; a simple, backwards people that look upon the spacefarers as gods. What could possibly go wrong?

ANNIHILATION
Returning from a covert mission, the crew of a nuclear submarine surface after several months in isolation to find the world they left behind ablaze in a planet-wide funeral pyre. Their advanced weaponry gives them the might to retaliate, but do they have the right? What would you do with all that power - seek justice or revenge?

ACT OF GOD
Does a person's moral compass stay true despite their circumstances or is it dictated by the situations they find themselves in? Isolated and trapped, a group of refugees are forced to take extraordinary measures in order to survive. Rescue comes, but only after a terrible price has been paid. However, those still living soon realize that salvation, like survival, comes at a horrific cost.

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER
Two fortune seekers defy government orders and sneak across guarded borders pursuing a treasure that some say doesn’t exist. If they are successful, their discovery will put them into the history books. If they fail, their remains will be the subject of archeologists in the next century.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paul Byers
• Release date: Dec 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311838438

Paul Byers

Paul grew up in Oregon on the shores of the mighty and mysterious Columbia River, and spent endless hours daydreaming on the beach in front of his house, making up stories about the ships from exotic ports all over the world that steamed up the river – what secret cargo might they be carrying; did they harbor spies who were on dark and exciting missions?Later in adult life, he moved to another mysterious and provocative city – Las Vegas, just outside the famous Nellis Air Force base. After work he would sit on his porch and watch the fighters take off and land, igniting his imagination with visions of secret missions and rich speculation about what could possibly be hidden at Area 51.After moving back to his native Pacific Northwest, Paul worked for the Navy and took every opportunity he could to speak with veterans from WWII to the Gulf War, listening to them swap stories and relate the experiences of a lifetime.So it is this combination of a passionate love of history, a vivid “what if” imagination, and a philosophy of life that boils down to the belief that – there are few things if life that a bigger hammer won’t fix – that led Paul to become a writer of exciting, fact-based action-thrillers. His greatest joy is leaving his readers wondering where the facts end and the fiction begins.

Book preview

Act of God

-A collection of Short Stories -

Paul Byers

Published by Fortress Publications

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook distributor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Shooting Star

Rescue Mission

The Journal

All that Glitters

Annihilation

Act of God

Eye of the Beholder

Sample - Arctic Fire

Sample - Catalyst

© 2011 Paul Byers. All rights reserved. Smashwords Edition

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For more information email all inquiries to: [e-mail]

Visit Paul Byers on the World Wide Web at:

www.paulbyersonline.com

Cover illustration by Andy Wenner, www.auroraartcompany.com

Ebook layout by Stanley J. Tremblay, www.findtheaxis.com

Act of God was a fun project I started several years ago and finally got around to finishing. As with any writing project, I have people who deserved to be thanked. First, and once again, my thanks go to the man with no name who helped me with Arctic Fire. He is a retired college professor who is a private man and who for some strange reason continues to help me with my writing in spite of myself.

Thanks also goes out to Karen Beasley and to Debbi Crooks who help me fix the mistake when the words in my brain don’t make it all the way to the paper the way they’re supposed to. And to Stan Tremblay at Find The Axis (findtheaxis.com) for his expert formatting and digital skills.

And a special word goes to an old classmate of mine, (Go Lions) Jim Martin. Jim served in the United States Navy for 20 years and helped me with the technical aspect for the Annihilation story. He was a Quartermaster / Electronics Technician 1st Class (SS) and an Assistant Navigator and served aboard on two nuclear attack boats and two ballistic missile submarines. Thank you for your help on my story and for your service to this country.

And as always to you the reader. You are the reason I am doing this and I thank you for your support!

SHOOTING STAR

Star Base One, we have just returned from our deep space patrol along the Neutral Zone and are requesting docking permission.

"Star Duster, cut the chatter. You are not Captain Kirk and your shuttle certainly isn’t the Starship Enterprise.

Sorry Flight Control, commencing docking sequence. Disengaging primary thrusters now. Switching to secondaries in five, four, three, two and primaries are off and secondaries are engaged. One hundred meters per second and slowing.

"Roger Star Duster, everything looks good on this end. If things stay this smooth we’ll have you back home in time for Sunday afternoon barbecue."

Sounds good to me Steve. When are you due for your next R&R? Cheri and I would love to have you and Lutreece over for that barbecue.

"I’ve got three more days here… standby Star Duster. In one breath the tone of the casual conversation was replaced with a calm, no nonsense attitude. I show a red light on the electrical controlling the secondaries. They’ve shut down."

With well-trained practice, Evan Grant quickly scanned the myriad of lights, gages, and readouts of the controls stuffed into the confines of the tiny cockpit of his new, interplanetary transport shuttle.

Confirmed, Control, he replied with the same calm, no nonsense tone as he saw the small blinking light. I’m on it, re-routing power now. He went through the motions of shutting down one system and re-routing its function through another. Grant knew that by its very nature space flight was inherently dangerous, so double and even triple redundancies were built into nearly every system of the spacecraft; so when he threw the last switch he expected the red light to go out, but he was surprised as it remained stubbornly on.

Back-up system failed to engage, Control. Will disengage and attempt manual override. With a bit more urgency, but still not worried, Grant again tried and again failed to override the controls. The red warning light seemed to glow brighter now, almost out of defiance. Override attempts failed, will have to abort docking.

"Copy Star Duster."

Grant glanced out his front view port that quickly turned into a stare as he saw the rapidly approaching space station. It was wagon-wheel shaped and home to more than five hundred people and huge by any standards at nearly a quarter of a mile in diameter.

Like its predecessor, The International Space Station, Olympus was a global effort, but unlike its forerunner there were no flags painted on its side representing nationalities; instead, there were brightly colored murals of scenery and landscapes, depicting the regions of Earth it came from.

"Star Duster, still waiting for you to abort docking sequence.

Grant snapped back to the present. Roger Control, will engage primary maneuvering thrusters. He stole another quick glance again at the rapidly approaching station; he only hoped the view would be the same a few minutes from now.

Grant returned his concentration to his control panel, reached down and threw the main thrusters switch.

Nothing!

Burn on main thrusters a negative, Control. I can’t fire them. Re-routing main power has also failed. The usually calm voice of the astronaut was now showing signs of tension. There seems to be a system-wide failure in the secondary/ primary maneuvering propulsion units. Grant’s mind now went into high gear as his training took over and he went over system after system, trying to figure out a solution. He looked out the window again and instantly wished he hadn’t; he was now close enough to read the identification markings on the station.

I’ve got an idea, Flight Control. If I fire the main booster rocket, I think I can angle my ship just under the docking assembly and miss the station completely. He knew it was a very risky maneuver; if it worked, all would be saved; if it didn’t, he would hit the station even harder, causing more damage. He paused for a moment then continued. Just in case, you might want to evacuate the area.

There was an even longer silence on the other end. "We’ve already starting evacuating, Star Duster."

Thanks for the vote of confidence. Grant replied, trying to lighten the mood for those in the station as well as for himself. Humor was Grant’s way of dealing with stress and right now he felt like doing a stand-up routine. I’m going to fire the main engine in three seconds; that should give me enough maneuvering speed to slip under the station.

"Roger Star Duster, and good luck Evan."

Just tell my wife to get the steaks ready. I’m throwing the main switch …now! Grant felt the rumble as the main engine ignited. See you on the other side. Grant had no idea how prophetic those words would be. He shoved the main controls forward, but nothing happened. Instantly, he was traveling five times faster than he had been a second ago. He didn’t even have time to panic as he looked up to see a reflection of himself on his viewport, then he was engulfed in darkness as his shuttle slammed into the station.

A bright light flooded the small chamber that moments earlier had been his cockpit. Evan Grant looked up and saw a ghostly figure silhouetted by the light. Slowly Grant took off his helmet and tried to stammer out a few words, but was stopped by the specter’s raised hand. In a voice booming like thunder, he spoke.

In all my years with the agency, I have never seen flying quite like that! Not only did you destroy yourself and your shuttle, you managed to take out the entire docking section, killing 23 people. And if that weren’t bad enough, you fried all the circuits in the simulator. I can’t wait to get you up in space tomorrow so we’ll all be safe down here.

Grant slouched in the simulator, scratching his beard. As his friend walked away, he wondered if he should say anything. He knew it was a test, to see how he would react, but seeing the smoke rising from the simulator, he decided against it.

Grant’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts on the short, thirty-minute drive to his home. Twisting around in his head were thoughts of the up-coming mission, what he might have done differently in the simulator and the nagging notion that he was forgetting something. His wife kidded him, saying his bad memory was from all his gray hair. He took a quick glance at himself in the rear view mirror and ran his fingers through his hair. He thought the gray gave him that distinguished look; she said it just made him look old. At forty-three he didn’t feel old.

He was nearly in the driveway when he finally remembered what that nagging notion had been; he had promised his son he would bring him home the latest Spiderman comic. With a quick glance in his mirrors, he pulled a U-turn and raced back to the store; after all, a promise was a promise.

Confident that all was as it should be, he walked into the house to find his wife and six-year-old son, Adam sitting on the couch watching a movie. It was a movie that Adam had seen a dozen times, yet it still enthralled him. His wife however was not as enchanted and was fast asleep on the other end of the couch. As soon as the boy saw his father, he sprang up with a cheerful Daadee!

Adam jumped to the floor and crouched down in a position that was a cross between a raging bull and a linebacker waiting for the snap. With a charge that rivaled both, he rushed and jumped into his father’s arms. Grant had dubbed it the Smackeroony Hug.

I missed you today! Grant said, squeezing his son tightly.

I missed you too, Daddy. Did you bring me a prize?

Was I supposed too? Grant said, teasingly.

Adam nodded so hard that his body shook with each movement of his head.

Yes you did, you promised. A promise is a promise, he reminded his dad with a serious look.

So it is. And here you go, just as I promised. he said, producing the comic book from under his coat.

Yess! came the gleeful reply as he grabbed the comic and did a running jump back onto the couch, waking his mother.

How did the test flight go today dear? she asked as she blinked the sleep from her eyes. She got up and gave him a peck on the cheek as she passed him on her way into the kitchen.

The Flight Commander said that in all of his years with the agency, he had never seen flying like mine before. She peered around the corner and gave him a disbelieving raised eyebrow then opened the cupboard and took the dishes out to set the table.

After dinner, Grant took Adam in his arms and carried him outside. It was a clear night, and the stars were shining brightly.

You know Adam, Daddy is going to go up into space tomorrow.

Can I come too Daddy?

No. I’m afraid you can’t. Grant chuckled. But you know what? I’m going to paint you the biggest rainbow in the sky you’ve ever seen, he said, sweeping his hand across the sky. And if you look real close, you’ll see some shooting stars too.

Adam’s eyes grew wide in amazement. How are you going to do that, Daddy?

Magic. Grant smiled and waved his hand in front of Adam’s face like a magician.

Actually, magic had nothing to do with it he thought as they continued to look at the stars. His mission was part of a research study looking at atmospheric conditions. He was to drop specially designed canisters full of chemicals that would measure greenhouse gasses, monitor ozone conditions and other variables. After gathers all the data, the results would be used to create computing modeling to help predict future weather patterns and changes.

He looked at Adam and smiled. The rainbow he would paint for his son would be the chemical dispersing in the air and the shooting stars would be the canisters burning up as they entered the atmosphere.

Promise? Adam said with a serious look on his face.

I promise, and you know I always keep my promises. Come on now, it’s time for bed.

Grant rose early the next morning to be back at the base by 0500 for the 10:00 launch. He kissed his sleeping wife good-bye, then crept into his son’s room and spent a few minutes just watching him sleep. His grandmother had given him a pup tent for Christmas, but instead of playing in it, he used it for sleeping. He had used it to go camping on the plains of Africa hunting lions and elephants, the jungles of South America playing with the monkeys and last night he was camped out on the moon. He said he could get a better view of the rainbow from there.

Arriving at the base, Grant found it a beehive of activity, even for such an early hour, but he was puzzled because there were far more men and equipment surrounding the launch rocket than what accompanied a normal launch. Suddenly his heart sank: was there a problem with his ship? Was the mission canceled? With great anxiety, he raced toward the mission briefing room. At 43, he wasn’t too old to be an astronaut, but flight rotations didn’t come along every day. If he were canceled, he might really be too old by the time his number came up again.

Dashing up the stairs two at a time, he reached the top, turned right and started down the corridor to the Mission Briefing room. It was located at the end of a long hallway, at the far end of the building that today seemed to stretch for miles and was filled with the entire population of California.

Grant put his head down and weaved in and out of the people like a fullback picking his way through the secondary. Arriving at the briefing room, he nervously took a deep breath and opened the door. He felt relieved to see the familiar face of Steve Minor, who was in charge of flight operations, but disturbed to see a stranger sitting next to him.

Good morning Evan. Minor said. Minor was an old Navy buddy. They both had flown jets off the Nimitz and had flown combat missions during the third gulf war. Good or bad, Grant knew he would get the straight story from him.

By the look on your face, I can see that you noticed that it isn’t business as usual this morning. Relax and have a seat, Minor said, handing Grant a cup of coffee. Being the sharp tack that you are, you’ve probably guessed there have been some new developments. This is David Marsh, head of the Earth-Mars Resources Corporation.

Marsh stood and shook Grant’s hand with a firm handshake and a warm smile. Something about his manner reminded Grant of the salesman who had sold him his last car, the one that was sitting in the shop right now.

Captain Grant, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Time is short, so I’ll get right to the point. Marsh put down his coffee and leaned forward in his chair, making Grant even more nervous. "We have a problem, a very big problem. Vast quantities of perculite have been discovered on Mars and the processing and shipping of the gas has just begun.

"As you are probably aware, perculite could be the answer to this planet’s energy crisis. It’s lighter than natural gas, making it easier to pressurize and ship and it burns twenty times more efficiently. Right now we have a tanker enroute from Mars with enough gas onboard to power cities the size of Los Angeles, Chicago, and New York combined, for six months.

Grant nodded. Perculite, rock fuel?

Marsh smiled. Close, it means danger fuel. Did you grow up attending Catholic school to learn your Latin?

Grant shook his head. No, I knew a college professor and he would throw Latin phrases around every once in a while. And speaking of danger isn’t perculite a lot more volatile than natural gas?

Now it was Marsh’s turn to nod. It is a little more volatile, true, he said dismissively, but the risks are more than worth it for a cleaner and better world. Grant didn’t feel like being patronized by a canned sales pitch just now, but he didn’t want to say anything until he knew the whole story.

"Because of the, shall we say fickleness, of the nature of the unrefined gas, we have designed a tanker to transport it that is fully automated. Two days ago we lost telemetry from the Red Star and fear that something has gone wrong."

I’m sorry Mr. Marsh, but I don’t understand. Steve, Grant said looking at his friend with confusion on his face, What does all this have to do with me? My mission is a simple drop of weather monitoring chemicals from a low orbit.

Not any more, Evan, Minor said.

You see… Marsh continued, yours is the only ship capable of reaching the tanker in time. That’s what all the activity is about; they’re installing extra fuel cells and special equipment you’ll need.

"In time for what? Grant asked.

Marsh hesitated before he spoke, like he didn’t want to answer, but knew he had to. "From our last contact, the Red Star's projected course will have it slamming into the moon in four days. If you launch now, you can reach it in two days, leaving you nearly two days to effect repairs." Marsh stood to underscore his next statement.

"This cargo is extremely valuable, Mr. Grant; I can't emphasize that enough. Not only from the material standpoint, the cost of the ship, and the