Titan Showdown

By Karl Thorn

A disaster on Titan starts a chain of events that leads to the first space war and the possible collapse of the western world or worse the destruction of the entire surface of the Earth. Mark Garrette must prove his theories and perfect his discoveries in time to divert annihilation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Karl Thorn
• Release date: Jan 8, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310889356

Karl Thorn

Technical Support Engineer Two degrees in electronics

Book preview

Chapter One

Breaking news from Titan, the radio announcer interrupted the regular program. We’ve just received a report that the Titan scientific research facility as been involve in a severe quake…

Mark instantly stopped his test, powered off the device and sprinted to the wall speaker of his lab to hear the report more clearly. The scientist had the radio tuned to his favorite information station. Mark had friends at the Titan research facility. He had even been there a few times.

The survivors have indicated there were several casualties. The announcer said. It is still unclear how many deaths there are. Mark felt weak in the knees. The faces of those he knew flashed through his mind. The quake has inflicted severe damage to the structure’s dome. Collins Rodine of NASA reported that the quake had hit suddenly. The reporter explained. Nothing on this order of magnitude was ever expected, Rodine said.

Darla, Mark's wife, came into the room. Mark waved her over and indicated for her to listen. After the report finished, Mark found a chair and slumped into it. Darla sat in the chair next to him and laid a hand on her husband's thigh. She didn't know any of them personally like her husband, yet, she felt the anguish just the same.

Collins will let us know how badly they were hurt. Darla said, trying to console her husband.

Mark nodded silently. He had worked with many of them for years. He looked at his project sitting on the lab bench. He was getting close to proving his theory. At the moment it didn't seem important. I need a break. He finally said. I have a couple of phone calls to make. He stood to leave.

Without asking, Darla knew to whom. I'll have Bruce make us some coffee. Darla added, following him out of the lab.

* * *

I trust you have just heard the report. Nicholous Bordolv said to his trusted aid. The Security Chief had just entered the office. Bordolv turned the television off. A wooden panel slid in front of it, hiding the set behind the mahogany wall. When Bordolv smiled, as he was now, his friendly blue eyes and pleasant looking baby face did not show the true power he held in the new Russian Government. He did not bother to stand from his mahogany desk as Comench approached.

Yes, sire. Comench said after a slight bow and salute. Not one thread was out of place on his perfectly pressed black uniform. Red pin striping ran up the legs and high-lighted his jacket. The uniform was a good refection of his hard chiseled face and dark eyes. Those eyes rarely showed

any emotion. From all indications, our ships managed to land, plant the nuclear devices and lift to space without being noticed. Each device was planted deep in the ground, within meters of the fault's pressure points. Our scientists were right. The explosions made it appear that a major tectonic shift had taken place. No radioactive residue would be detectable from the surface. And if there were any, though doubtful, they would have to know precisely where to look.

Bordolv's normally appealing face turned into a sinister smile. He stood from his dark wooden desk and went to his aid's side. Good, the charges went off just as I ordered. Have you verified the U.S. or their European allies cannot render aid?

Yes sire.

Well done. The pleasant smile returned to his face. He thought of those casualties who fell to his will. Those Titan victims had served him well. Now the next step… Comench, set up a press conference. A low chuckle rumbled deep within his throat.

It will be done, Sire. Comench bowed. If I may, for a moment, there is one more thing on another subject that you will want to know.

Yes? He looked questioningly at his security chief.

Governor Hurley Morcough has been speaking Russian in public again, Sire.

Bordolv had given standing orders that all public speech was to be conducted in English. This would help in his ultimate goal.

Bordolv's face flushed. He stood, walked around his desk and faced Comench eye to eye. Where?

In his office, to his secretary, the English delegates were there with him.

Apprehend him. The Czar grumbled. I needed him, but I need obedience more. Bordolv clicked his nails. He had given the governor a warning and proper punishment before. To do it in front of an outsider was outright insubordination. Take him to Moscow square and execute him at high noon. Bordolv's voice lowered. Insure there are no foreigners around to witness the punishment. Outsiders need never know. It was meant as a demonstration to keep the Russian masses in line.

Comench bowed slightly. It will be done, and his secretary?

Give her the standing punishment, a one year stay at a Siberian labor camp.

Comench nodded once. That too, shall be done your highness.

The Czar peered into Comench's dark eyes. He tried to read any emotion that might be there. Anything else?

No sire.

Then you’re dismissed.

Comench saluted.

Bordolv returned the salute and watched him give a slight bow before leaving. The Russian leader returned to his plush chair and pulled himself to his desk. He fingered the hand carving along the desk's edge. He smiled at his achievements. His plans were years ahead of schedule.

Becoming Czar, the first true dictator since Russia’s experiment with elected officials, was just his first hurtle. Curtailing the Chinese and Indian ambitions in space was the second step, now the American and European powers were next.

Getting two ships to Titan's surface, planting some low radiation nukes, then getting his people back into space without being noticed was no easy task. This was the first phase of the operation. He'll have to give proper rewards to those involved with the mission.

Bordolv had a high connection within the United States Government. Before his speech, he planned to contact that person. He leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head without messing his well-groomed hair. He smiled again, thinking how the U.S. and their allies would react. It would be the first step that will ultimately lead the world and the solar system into his total control.

* * *

What's all that commotion about? Mark Garrette asked his wife when she opened the door. He moved to the only window in his private lab. It was a small round window designed and approved by the U.S. Government to prevent electronic ease dropping. He peered through the grounded metal blinds. All he could see of his mansion in the Boston Mountains of Arkansas was the driveway. It led to the main entrance. Several vans were now in view. Their microwave dishes pointed to the sky.

Reporters Mark, explained the petite woman with wide hips and a narrow waist. Darla slammed the door behind her with more strength than her small form would suggest. They've found out you are connected to the Titan Project. I'm sure they are looking to find blame for the disaster.

Mark sighed, thinking of the men he knew that had died during the incident. He put his hands in his white lab coat. The coat hid the spare tire that he carried around his waist. It didn't come from over eating or laziness. He was just always busy with something; family, work or personal projects. He rarely had time to do anything physical. Have our servants invite them into the study and entertain them. Tell them that I'm in the middle of an experiment and can't stop for about thirty minutes.

Darla nodded and smiled. They wouldn't like that.

And Darla, get back as quickly as you can. I'll need your assistance.

She nodded again as she left.

Mark admired her beautiful form as she left. The way her wide hips and narrow waist waved gave her a grace all her own. Her blond hair, tan eyes and oval face were other features that added to her beauty. Through the years she had managed to keep in excellent shape. Mark appreciated her efforts and never once regretted marrying this graceful and logical lady.

Professor Mark Garrette was an independent quantum research scientist specializing in energy fields. Throughout his thirty-eight year life, he worked for several companies around the world. He even managed to teach at a couple of universities during that time. Today, his main source of income was for the classified work he performed for United States Government. He had ended his ties with most companies and stopped teaching altogether. He wanted to devote more time to his projects and his home life.

Mark married his top assistant, Darla Maclevain, ten years ago. They had two children, a girl, age eight and a boy, age five. Mark knew Darla cherished her privacy so they moved to this Ozark estate shortly after their marriage.

Six years ago a large outbreak of rare cancers appeared in Phoenix Arizona. One reporter researching the story found proof that a nuclear accident of some type had happened at a government research facility in Arizona. The radioactive dust it created had settled in Phoenix. This incident was far worse than the Rockyflats cover-up. The reporter concluded that it nearly reached the scale of the Chernobyl accident in Russia. The U.S. Government had managed to keep the incident from the public for over a year.

Environmental organizations grew in strength and concerned citizens formed special interest groups. They joined forces and influenced Congress to ban all nuclear research from all government agencies on Earth. After this, another accident happened in Russia, killing an entire town outright. The anti-nuclear support grew worldwide. The U.N. finally issued a decree that nuclear research by any government on the Earth would not be tolerated. All radio-active research was moved off planet.

Along with other demands such as space based solar power, space activities grew exponentially. With the private sector now involved, access to space became relatively cheap.

Mark Garrette was one of the few people on Earth who had the education with the right facilities to pass the U.S. security qualification. His Ozark mansion was isolated and secure. Mark had enough money of his own to support a quality laboratory. His personal back ground was rated the highest. So, a lab in Mark's home became one of the few places on Earth where the government could legally pay him to do quantum research. They wanted his services, even if it were on a limited scale. His knowledge in plasma energy was unequaled and Mark refused to leave Earth on a permanent bases. He was paid quite well for his work.

Darla stepped back into the room about the time Mark finished hooking up the equipment for the next set of tests. The reporters are impatiently waiting. She said, smiling. She knew how unconcerned he would feel.

Good, I'm sure they will still be there when we're through. He was in no mood to talk about his dead comrades on Titan.

Darla went to her station.

See the changes I made to the settings? Mark asked, pointing to a couple of parameters on her console. I've also made other changes to the hardware to bring the resonate frequency closer to the theoretical value. We should now be able to sync it with the magnetic vortex.

Darla nodded.

I think it will work this time. Mark explained, at least through the vertical plain. Mark examined the device. The main component was a ring with black rollers sticking on it. More hardware filled the center with coils placed strategically around the ring. It was the size of a laptop computer. Switch on all recorders.

Recorders on. Darla repeated in a smooth soft voice.

Turn power on and raise the voltage until we achieve twelve amperes of current.

Switch on, Darla announced and began turning a knob. Current is rising to twelve.

Mark studied the readings for a few seconds. Satisfied they were holding steady, he began turning on other circuits within the device. Energizing starter coils,

Magnetic rollers, started. Darla confirmed, glancing over at the physical devise. Black dowel rods were now racing around a black ring that was surrounded by induction coils. RPM is rising.

Starting modulator, Mark stated, tuning to resonance.

Its weight is starting to drop! Darla exclaimed. Her eyes widened to show the whites around her tan pupils. It's working! She turned to look at the ringed device as it began to float into the air. The power and control cables connected to it prevented it from drifting away.

Current and temperature raising sharply. Darla exclaimed. I can’t maintain twelve amps.

Mark frowned. Power the device off!

The device burst into flame as it fell to the table with a loud thud. A thin line of smoke streamed to the ceiling of the lab. He reached for a fire extinguisher and smothered the flame before the alarm system could activate.

He sighed. Another attempt at his personal project failed, this time it went up in flames. He had been working on this project for years now. Would he ever get a working model? If he could, it would revolutionize transportation of all types. He frowned. I guess I'm ready to see those reporters now.

Darla put her arm around Mark. Hay, cheer up, it did worked! Even if it was for just a few seconds. She kissed him on a cheek. You've proven your theory.

He wrapped his arms around his wife and stared deeply into her tan eyes. I wish I didn't have reporters waiting. He smiled. There is one thing I know that I can successfully accomplish. He raised his brows. She would know what he meant.

Darla blushed slightly and smiled. Oh Mark! Your mind is always busy, either in the lab or in the bedroom.

He shrugged. Well, when I have a lab assistant as beautiful as you, I can think of both things at once.

It's not a wonder then, why your experiments go up in flames. She said in her melodic voice, smirking.

I guess I deserve that. Mark smiled. It won't hurt those reporters to wait another hour.

One side of her rosy mouth turned up. I'll hold you to that offer later, but I think you better tackle those reporters first.

Mark walked into the study, still wearing his lab coat. He carried the smile from his earlier conversation with his wife. He let Darla enter the room first so he could watch her wide hips wiggle smoothly as she walked.

The crowd of reporters swarmed around Mark. All of them started talking at once, ignoring the petite, beautiful blond.

Mark raised his hands and motioned for them to back off. When they finally complied, he pointed to a tall black haired lady. She had interviewed him before. You first.

What can you tell us about your involvement with the Titan Project?

I personally designed some of the test equipment that was sent there. Mark answered in the most generic way he could without revealing any secrets. The equipment was so sensitive that it required me to fly to Titan to do the final calibrations. I understand the quake damaged some of them. So, I imagine NASA will ask me to return there soon. He wasn't looking forward to it. Mark pointed to another person.

Why risk sending men to Titan in the first place? Or for that matter, anywhere else in space? The man asked. This disaster is a perfect example that we do not have the ability to perform any type of rescue mission.

Mark sighed at the narrow and simple minded man. It seemed the media always attracted such dead heads. Garrette filed that man's face away for future reference. He would never call on him for a question again. "As I have explained several times before, the government, by law is required to

do all of their nuclear research off planet. Unless, of coarse, they can find individuals, such as himself, he thought, that was willing to put up with the security involved to perform these experiments in their home. Second, Mark said out loud, and most important is the fact that the environment of Titan has preserved records of complex organic compounds and liquid hydrocarbons. They date back to the creation of the solar system. That alone should justify our presents, not to mention all the research being performed. I have no doubt we'll find practical uses for the unique material found there."

Simultaneously, other reporters burst into questions. They were soon silenced when one of Professor Garrette's servants escort a tall gray haired man into the room. They recognized him immediately as Collins Rodine. He headed the Research Facilities for NASA and the U.S. Government.

Sorry people, Collins said, I'm forced to ask you to leave. I have some important business to discuss with Professor Garrette that can't wait.

Is it about the Titan Project? Several reporters asked, almost in unison.

I'm sorry. Collins repeated. I'll schedule a press conference to clarify the situation.

At the servant's persistence, the mob finally relented and slowly filed out of the room. The servant followed the reporters out and closed the door behind him.

Thanks for rescuing me from that mob. Mark said, glancing back at the door.

I wish I could say that it was the reason I came. What I had told the reporters was the truth. Despite Collins' thinning gray hair, he always managed to keep a fresh appearance. If asked, Mark would not be able to recall a time when he had seen stubble on the man's face.

Mark cocked his head. What do you mean?

The Titan facility was more severely damaged from that quake then we reported. Collins explained.

Are there more dead? Darla exclaimed.

No, those figures are accurate. Collins replied, not meeting her eye.

Isn't the hull breach contained yet? Mark asked.

It was, but too much poisonous atmosphere leaked in. It killed the biological recycling system. Collins explained. We thought the cold had put the system into a temporary stasis, that wasn't the case. He shook his head. "If their own