Misapprobeeation
April 1999
"But I don't know any Russian!" Alan protested as the harassed appearing female attaché took him by the arm and gestured toward the small group of Russian grade-schoolers. They were watching with obvious excitement as he was towed to where they waited at the edge of tarmac. Where was Tanya when you needed her?
"Da, and they know no Australian. Just smile, Captain."
Alan looked around for any legitimate means of escape, but found none. Darn it, he wasn't even supposed to be here in Cologne. He had been diverted at the last moment from his return to Alpha and told to pick up an important VIP shipment with high political importance. When he discovered the shipment originated from Russia, he half expected to find Vodka or some other 'necessity' ordered by Gorski. To his surprise, he found something altogether different. Even explicable given the wide-ranging research interests on Alpha. But... honey bee queens? From a bunch of Russian kids visiting Germany? He simply couldn't believe they'd diverted him from Lyneham for a bunch of bugs.
"No, not bugs, Captain, special Russian honey bees."
The attaché spared him a disgusted look. Damn, he must have spoken aloud.
"These children developed a research plan to see how honey bees might fare in low gravity conditions. Their proposal won out over hundreds submitted internationally to the ILC. We are very proud of them."
The twenty children stood straight and proud. They looked to be about twelve years old or so. Several of the kids were eyeing the Eagle with undisguised glee and one or two were looking at him with shiny-eyed adoration. He remembered feeling like that once when a few of the early Apollo astronauts had visited Sydney in the seventies. Right. On your toes then, Carter. Stopping in front of the two tidy lines of students he smiled as he realized what he could say.
"Strav... stveetia."
The children looked surprised at his attempt to say hello, and a few of the girls giggled behind raised hands. The attaché actually looked gratified by his mangled effort. Tanya always laughed at his attempts at Russian, too.
A formal appearing man dressed in a type of school uniform stepped up in front of the children. He was holding a box approximately forty centimeters square bearing a 'this way up' arrow in bright red. He gave a speech Alan supposed was about the bugs, or maybe about Russia, or even about the diplomatic fall-out from Australian mangled Russian. Alan couldn't tell. Standing at parade rest, he smiled pleasantly at the children, their chaperones, the pretty ladies passing nearby and waited patiently for the droning to stop. He fully expected it to go on for a while, it usually did. After five minutes or so, the attaché nudged him hard in the ribs. Alan snapped to and realized the man had stopped talking and was looking at him expectantly. So were the kids.
"Uh, I am very proud to be able to take these...important honey bees to Alpha. You should be very proud of yourselves and your clever research proposal." Alan started getting into the swing of things as he realized the attaché was translating and he suspected embellishing what he said as well. "Maybe some of you might even be able to come up to Alpha in a few years as interns and visit for a few months." Alan paused at the buzz of excitement from the students. "Well then, study hard."
Alan held out his hands for the box the important looking man presented to him and was surprised at its unexpected weight. He hefted it gently trying to listen for any angry buzzing sounds. Why, it must weigh eight or nine kilos or so. He gave a cheery wave to the kids and several of them waved back. He watched as their chaperones collected them for the return from wherever it was they came from.
The attaché looked at Alan with something akin to warmth. "Spasibo, Captain. That was gently done. The box has a forty-eight hour functional limit. Four of those hours have passed. Safe flight." And with that, and a perfunctory nod of her head, the woman turned and walked back to the nearest building.
Alan looked around bemused. Well, that seemed to be that. He carefully studied the box he held as he headed back to his Eagle. He sure hoped the bees couldn't get out of there. They looked sealed up tight enough, and even had their own little life support system, with forty-four hours left apparently. He'd stash them in the galley area. There were plenty of nooks and crannies there where the box could be held securely and not get squashed accidentally.
The bees safely tucked away, Alan headed to the Command Module to run the pre-flights and obtain clearance back to Alpha. He was looking forward to getting back and picking up the training for the Meta Probe astronauts. He had some ideas he wanted to try on how to sharpen up their flight skills.
Strapped into his seat, Alan looked at the routine readout in front of him with growing puzzlement. Everything checked out... except the cargo mass. In Earth terms, he was approximately eighty kilos light. In the scheme of things, the weight was absolutely negligible given the amount of cargo routinely shifted up to Alpha, but some damn pencil-pusher was sure to ask questions if all the little zeros didn't all line up just as they should.
Alan ran his hand through his hair. Why him? He hated the paperwork this was going to mean. He thought through his options. Maybe he was to have a co-pilot? Nah, he'd checked this morning and was flying solo this trip. Wait a minute... could it be that obvious? Alan looked at the manifest again. Yeah... there it was. Someone had made a simple decimal mistake with the honey bee weight, crediting 90 kilos instead of nine. Alan nodded with satisfaction. At least the paperwork would be straightforward now.
"Alpha Eagle 4 requesting departure clearance for Moonbase Alpha."
"Negative, Alpha Eagle 4. There's a hold in place until 1800 hours."
Damn. That meant over four hours to kill. Alan looked at the small monitor between the pilot seats. "Affirmative, Tower. What's the hold up?"
"Air Force One is crossing German airspace and all non-essential flights are grounded. Moonbase Alpha has been alerted to the delay."
What the heck was the U.S. President doing in Europe? He'd missed that in the news briefs. Oh well, nothing much he could do about it. Maybe he could stretch his legs a bit during the wait and visit friends in the training complex. He was bound to know someone there.
"Affirmative, Tower. Can I move the Eagle over to the Thomas Reiter Center? I promise to stay under the radar."
There was a pause before the reply. When the Tower came back on-line, there was a chuckle in the voice.
"That's an affirmative Alpha Eagle 4. We're looking forward to seeing how low you can keep that bird."
Alan thought he recognized the voice as one of the smart-ass Scandinavian officers that had ragged on him during his last visit to Germany.
"Alright Tower, watch and learn."
Alan fired up the VTOL rockets and the small positional thrusters and danced the Eagle over the tarmac barely skimming the ground. He'd let that pilot-wannabe worry about the scorch marks left in his wake.
"Not bad, Alpha Eagle 4. Be back in position for a launch by 1715 hours."
"Affirmative, tower. Carter out." Not bad, indeed, Alan snorted. He doubted if many could have finessed that move without banging a landing pod or two on the way over.
Shutting down the engines, Alan unstrapped and then secured the Eagle to respond to his commlock only unless he was alerted first. He peeked in on his passengers.
"Behave yourselves, ladies."
Exiting the Eagle, Alan paused to enjoy the fresh air. It was a clear, warm day without a hint of humidity. Looking up, he saw only the rare cumulous cloud being chased about by the light breezes, the only thing to mar an otherwise blue sky. Perfect hang-gliding weather. If he weren't on duty just then, that would be a great way to spend an afternoon, as it was... if he ended up with a broken arm, Gorski would give him hell. Another time. Maybe after the Meta Probe was safely off.
The Eagle's door closed and sealed to the touch of a commlock key and Alan crossed the short stretch of tarmac to enter the Reiter Center. Even though the guard positioned at the main door saw him exit the Eagle, he still had to present security ID and submit to an electronic scan for illegal substances. That done, he entered the building and approached the main receiving desk to pull up a list of who was currently assigned there.
The five-story building was home to this region's astronaut training center and Eagle simulators. Alan had spent a few months based here back around 1990 mastering flight skills under the tutorage of Tony Cellini. Alan shook his head sadly. Cellini had been one hell of a pilot before the Ultra Probe Mission.
"Hey, Alan, is that you?"
Alan pivoted at the sound of the British accented voice. "Tony, mate, what're you doing here?" With a smile, Alan walked toward the dark-haired man dressed in the dark formal uniform of the Italian Air Force. He shook the outstretched hand and clapped Tony Verdeschi on the back.
"Probably the same as you. Got caught by Air Force One on my way back to Casole d'Elsa to visit family. You heading back up to Alpha?"
"Yeah. Have a load of tiny VIPs to deliver, not to mention some supplies and the like."
The two men headed toward the small cafeteria on the fourth floor. Tony bought Alan a cup of coffee and they snagged a table overlooking the deserted runway. Filling his friend in about the Russian bees, Alan leaned back in his chair and studied the young Captain Verdeschi. Alan had to admit, he still found it odd to hear a British accent coming from someone dressed in an Italian get up. He grinned at the memory of the last time the two had crossed paths. Tony had helped him get to the University of South Florida in time for his doctoral defense, but not without pulling a practical joke at Alan's expense.
"You know, Tony, I never properly thanked you for the 'help' with getting clearance to land in Florida last month. But, you could have told the poor bloke to expect an Alpha Eagle and not a small bloody turboprop. I think he almost wet his pants when I showed up."
Tony snorted and had to swallow his mouthful of coffee quickly. He grinned widely. "You're welcome. That was simply too good to pass up. Kinda made up for that time in Paris." Tony laughed to see the blush on Alan's face. "Was glad to hear you passed, though."
"Yeah, whatever it takes to keep the ILC happy. Not quite up to your specs, but good enough."
Tony snorted again. "Cambridge. Haven't seen much good come of it yet. But I'm still hoping it will help get me up to Alpha sooner or later."
Two cups of coffee later, Alan was getting restless. They had caught up on the current scuttlebutt about the Meta Probe, the plans to possibly establish a Moonbase Beta within the decade and even who was dating whom among their common friends. And he still had a couple more hours to kill. "Tony, want to go check out the simulators? Maybe they have some new training programs."
"Why not?" Tony wasn't certified to fly Eagles, but he'd flown Tornado Interceptors and F-16 Fighting Falcons and was always game to try something new.
The two men stood, pushed in their chairs and disposed of the cups in the trash. The cafeteria and halls were filling up with others similarly stranded and it took a while and several out of the way detours to make it near to the top-security part of the complex reserved for the Eagle simulators. They had almost made it there when something caught Alan's eye. It was a dark, out of the way room fronted by a large plate glass window and filled almost to the ceiling with furniture.
"Hey, Tony, check this out." Alan led the way to an abandoned office obviously being used as a storage room. It was filled with desks, filing cabinets, chairs and other office paraphernalia. He turned on the lights and walked in for a better look.
Tony followed Alan and poked his head into the room. "Why in the world are you interested in all this, Alan? You can't tell me Alpha doesn't have its own furniture."
Alan walked about the room eyeing in particular several different models of chairs. "Have you even tried to sit in one of those god-forsaken contraptions they call chairs up there? In a meeting your arse goes numb long before your brain does. Hey, look at this one."
Alan stood from the small but padded chair he was trying, and walked over behind a haphazard stack of plastic plants and pulled out an overstuffed chair. It was an off-white, fairly largish chair with generously padded arms. Alan ran an appreciative hand along the chair's well-padded back. "It's made of real leather, I bet. I wonder why this one got the boot?" He looked up to Tony and gestured for him to help pull the chair out further for a better inspection.
Tony looked over his shoulder to the empty hallway and then shrugged. Walking over, he grabbed one arm while Alan took the other and they moved the chair over by the light. Once there, it became obvious why the chair had been discarded. There was a jagged gash down the back approximately thirty centimeters long. The molded wooden frame could be seen through the padding.
"A good leather worker could fix that, I bet." Alan eyed his find with covetous glee. He briefly picked the chair up off the ground. "Weighs about eighty kilos, wouldn't you say?"
"Yeah, I guess. And where are you going to find a leather worker?"
"Oh, people have all sorts of odd skills up on Alpha. And there's a brisk barter system to get the odd thing done. And an Eagle ride makes for a great bargaining chip."
"Alpha! You plan on taking that thing to Alpha?"
"Why not? It's not like anyone will miss it down here. And I just happen to have a bit of free space on board this trip."
"And what about once you get up there? How will you get it past security?"
"Oh, I'll think of something. Come on, mate." Alan got a good grip on the bottom and back of the chair and prepared to lift it up when he noticed his partner in crime hadn't moved to help.
"Wait a minute, Alan. You might be able to get it up to Alpha, and even through Alpha, but how the hell are you going to get it to your Eagle in the first place?"
Alan looked stymied but undeterred. He foresaw an awful lot of late night studying ahead and a comfortable chair would go far in making that bearable. Finally, a sly, calculating grin crossed his face. He started pulling open drawers and rummaging through them, smiling widely when he found what he was looking for. Pulling out a piece of bright yellow paper and some sticky tape, he turned to Tony and held out his hand.
"Pen."
Tony pulled a pen out if a front pocket and handed it over. He watched Alan write a brief message and tape it to the front of the chair. Once Alan moved out if the way and he could read the sign, Tony had to smile. This might just work after all.
~~~~~~~~~
"Alan, if we have to try to stuff this bloody chair through one more door to avoid being caught..." Tony rested against the wall, panting a little from their exertions.
"We're almost there." Alan looked around the corner to the final obstacle between them and the Eagle. They had carried the chair through almost empty service corridors and loading lifts to reach their current destination. And except for two close calls, it had gone smoothly, Tony's protest not withstanding.
Alan had led them to a secondary, side entrance that was actually closer to where the Eagle was currently parked. They just had to make it past one final security check. Getting into this building was usually the problem, not out. But then again, most times he had not left toting a large, beige, and highly contraband chair.
"Alright. Let me do the talking."
"Gladly."
Alan darted a grin to the other man as they made to lift the chair for the next leg of its journey.
"Hey, can you get the door? This thing weighs a bloody ton."
The security guard eyed their approach with surprise. It wasn't every day he saw two officers filling in for maintenance. And one of them an Eagle pilot from Alpha by the unique, if singularly beige, uniform. It even almost matched the chair they were carrying. Considering that a quick call to his supervisor might be in order for clarification, the guard started to reach for the phone.
Alan led Tony and the chair straight down the corridor with a purposeful step, showing no intention of even pausing at the checkpoint. Just like he had every right in the world to be there carrying a large chair attached to a harried appearing Italian flight officer.
Alan called out ahead, picking up even more momentum as he approached the security station and studiously ignoring the quiet stream of Italian muttering coming from behind him. "I've got a C.O. waiting for this thing and I'm running late."
"That Eagle yours, sir?" The guard could see a large official paper taped across the front of the chair. He could just make out the writing, and it was enough to have him stand aside and move his hand from the phone to the button to unlock the door.
"Yep. Alpha bound once I get this thing on board and stowed tight. It's presence is desired, if you know what I mean."
"Yes, sir." The guard looked at Tony who clamped his tongue firmly behind his teeth and simply tried to look official.
The door opened automatically and Alan pivoted to angle the chair to make it through, accidentally clomping Tony hard against the reinforced door frame and earning himself a black look. Recovering quickly, Tony repositioned his grip on the chair and the two men walked side by side, hefting the chair between them.
The security guard watched them leave, thoughtfully rubbing his thumb along his chin as the back of the chair became visible. Now why would Alpha have need for a chair with a huge gash on its back? Certainly the powers that be on Moonbase Alpha could requisition a better chair if they were going to send all this way for one. Hmm. Maybe he would make that call after all.
~~~~~~~~
"Alan, my friend, you owe me big for that." Gratefully lowering the heavy chair to the deck, Tony sagged down in relief into one of the Eagle's sears. He watched as Alan secured it to the wall with some tie downs amongst the other cargo, the yellow sign now hanging somewhat askew.
"Nah, you still owe me. That was just a down payment for that Florida stunt last month." Finishing, Alan turned around and stuck his hand out. "Thanks, though." Shaking Tony's hand he walked his friend back to the open pod door. "Call me if you ever need a favor."
"Yeah, right. Safe flight, Alan." And shaking his head in mild disgust and no small amount of admiration for the sheer gall of it all, Tony left. He most carefully did not go back to the Reiter Center but headed to the regular air terminal. He had a flight to catch and he wanted to be out of Cologne before any questions were raised and he was left holding the proverbial bag.
~~~~~~~~
Alan wallowed in a sense of extreme self-satisfaction all the way to Alpha. He'd be the envy of anyone who ever found out he'd scored such a comfortable chair. Although to be honest, there weren't that many he could ever tell. The flight was uneventful and it was in only a few hours that the voice of Main Mission gave him his final approach coordinates.
The lights coming from Alpha's viewports were far fewer than usual and Alan realized it was later than he realized. The hold on Earth explained the lateness of the hour and his fortuitous appropriation still accounted for the giddiness that made him feel wide awake. But, it being so late could just play into his favor. Like he had told Tony back on Earth, all he had to do now was get the chair out of the Eagle Bay past Eagle maintenance and supplies techs, around the perimeter of Alpha past second shift personnel, into the residential block, up a couple of flights and then to his quarters. Oh, and avoid the occasional roving security guard. Piece of cake.
"Eagle 4 you are cleared for final approach to Pad 1." The cultured British voice of Paul Morrow gave final authorization.
"Affirmative, Alpha. Pulling a night shift, Paul?" Alan asked idly as he set the controls for landing.
"Everyone takes his turn," was the philosophical answer. "How did you end up in Germany, Alan? We were notified of the reason for your delay, but not why you were there in the first place. I thought you were coming out of the U.K."
"So did I. Got diverted for a bunch of bugs. Is Tanya there?'
"Negative, Alan. Bugs?"
"Yeah. Some fellow citizens of Tanya's." Alan assumed a very thick and hopeless Slavic accent. "Very important Russian honey bees."
Alan smiled to hear Paul's soft chuckle over the open line. The man could be so darn stuffy at times.
"Well, that should make someone in research happy." Paul concluded sagely.
Still smiling, Alan casually landed the Eagle precisely on spot, still trying to think how he could get the chair safely to his quarters. He thought furiously while the Eagle was lowered into the bay. What he really needed was a distraction, or better yet, some old-fashioned clout. And he was sorely short on the latter. Being head of the Meta Probe astronaut training sounded awfully good, but he was still outranked by just about everybody up here that mattered. Including the head janitor he suspected. Or at least, so Gorski treated him. Okay, time to get sneaky. He did have friends in high places, after all. He pressed the toggle on the console to re-open the line to Alpha.
"Eagle 4 to Main Mission."
"Main Mission."
Alan blinked in surprise. That wasn't Paul. It sounded like it might be that new guy Winters, but Alan wasn't certain. "Is Controller Morrow still there?"
"Negative, Captain Carter. He left a few moments ago."
"Thanks. Carter out."
Alan pulled his commlock off his belt. Paul should still be on duty and therefore available. He thumbed his commlock on.
"Carter to Morrow."
Paul's face appeared in the small viewscreen. "Yes, Alan? Problem?"
"Hey, could you come to Eagle Bay 1?"
There was a pause. "I'll be there shortly."
Alan took the time waiting for Paul to finish the shut down protocols and then went to the galley to pick up his tiny passengers, patting his chair on the way past. The bees looked ship-shape as he loosened the restraints and picked them up for delivery.
A thought hit him. A distraction. What if the bees were to get out? That would clear an area long enough for him to get the chair through. He could always get another batch of bugs on his next flight down. As he seriously contemplated this option he remembered the happy faces of the school children. Nah, he couldn't do that to the kids. But... if he needed to, he could pretend that the bees had gotten free. That would make a great diversion. He'd just let the researcher-- he checked the delivery label... one Edward Collins, Ph.D. by name-- know he'd be happy to drop the bees by in the morning, just to save the man a walk through Alpha at night, of course. His plan worked. After reassuring the scientist the bee's life pack had ample time remaining, the tired man he had awoken even looked grateful for the offer.
Alan loosened the chair from its restraints and was placing the bee box carefully in the center of the seat against the very back when the pod door opened in the safety of the now pressurized bay.
"Alan?"
"Hey, Paul, ol' buddy, ol' friend." Alan casually walked up to his red-sleeved friend. His second-in-command friend. "Remember that chocolate and wine I brought up for you on that trip a while back?
Paul looked immediately suspicious. "Yes."
"It's payback time."
~~~~~~~~
They took the most out of the way, darkest corridors between Eagle Bay 1 and the residential quarters. Paul pushing the chair upon which the box of bees rode in splendid majesty, Alan scouting ahead looking for trouble. The chair rode easily upon the small low-friction slider disc they had been lucky to find in the Eagle bay. What could move a three hundred kilogram engine part could easily slide an eighty kilo piece of furniture.
"Alan, this is the most stupid stunt I have ever..." Paul was whispering in an angry monologue that Alan mostly ignored. No doubt the sentiments matched Tony's muttered Italian from Earthside, it was just that Alan could understand most of it this time.
"Shhh... someone's coming."
Paul quickly pulled the chair and bees into a small spur corridor as Alan crowded in beside them. A purple-sleeved security guard ambled slowly by.
"Alan if you ever pull another stunt like this..." hissed Paul.
"I won't ask you to help." Alan whispered, smiling over his shoulder as he once again left to scout out the way.
They made it into a travel tube where Paul used his command codes to prevent the car from making any intervening stops. Once in the residential block they manhandled the chair into a lift and up the two flights to Alan's level. The trip was silent; Paul anxious and Alan gloating. Only two more short corridors and they were home free. The door started to open... and Alan slapped the emergency close button at the glimpse of a man's back on the other side of the door. A man wearing a black sleeve. DAMN. Of all the people to have insomnia on this particular night, why did it have to be Gorski? He looked at a worried Paul. Gorski had no sense of humor whatsoever.
"Alright, Paul, any bright ideas?"
"Me?"
"You're the one with the red-sleeve. I'm just a space jockey." Alan was thinking that this might be the time to release his bees when Paul glowered at him and removed his commlock. Not breaking eye contact with Alan he thumbed on one of the programmable direct link buttons.
"Sandra? It's Paul. I need your help..."
Alan listened as Paul told Sandra where to come and run interference, and no she didn't have time to change into her uniform. It was an impossibly long ten minutes as they stood in the small, cramped lift which Paul kept closed with another command code from his commlock. Alan could almost imagine he heard the bees humming, anxious to get out. Or maybe it was just the pulsing of blood coursing anxiously through his inner ear.
Both men jumped slightly at the chirp from Paul's commlock.
"Morrow."
"It is all clear now, Paul."
Alan opened the door, jumping slightly to see a body standing immediately outside the opening. It was Sandra wearing a blue Alphan wrap over her night clothes.
She took in the sight of the two anxious men standing behind the large chair bearing a box covered with Cyrillic script. Looking first at the box, then at the distinctly non-Alphan chair and then at the men, she slowly shook her head. "I do not think I want to know. Good night." And with that she turned and walked away.
"Smart woman," Alan muttered to Paul, admiring Sandra's legs peeking out from under the knee-length robe.
Paul jabbed him hard in the ribs with his elbow. "Pay attention."
"Right. Home stretch." Alan cautiously peered out the door and then beckoned Paul to follow. A nervous twenty yards later they were in his quarters. Alan flopped down on his sofa as Paul sagged into one of the ubiquitous and uncomfortable white Alphan chairs.
"If...you...ever...try..." Paul sputtered.
"I know, I know, don't call you."
"Damn straight."
Alan looked at Paul with mild astonishment. He had never heard the Controller swear before.
"Consider all debts paid, pilot."
"Yes, sir." For once, Alan realized Paul was truly mad. He had never seen that angry glint in Paul's eyes before. He watched as his superior officer, his very angry superior officer, stood and walked stiffly over to the door and let himself out. This was a side of the usually unflappable Paul he'd never seen before. Alan hoped he hadn't irreparably harmed their friendship.
Pushing himself up off the sofa, Alan walked over to the chair and picked up the box of bees. He'd drop them off in the morning, as promised, before he headed out to the space dock to meet up with the Probe astronauts. Setting the box down carefully on the sofa table, he turned back around to sink slowly into his large, plush and exceedingly comfortable chair. Resting his head against the soft back, a wide grin crossed his face. Yeah, it had been worth it.
~~~~~~~~
Gorski walked back toward his quarters after that fool's errand he'd been sent on by Technician Benes. She really was too young to hold such a position of responsibility. He stood outside the lift, rocking back and forth on his feet as he waited for the door to open. He still questioned that strange communiqué that had arrived in his mailbox late this afternoon from Cologne, Germany. Some mid-level bureaucrat was questioning why he was requisitioning old furniture that had been donated to charity. He had shot back a message that nothing of the sort had been done and to go through proper channels in the future. To think some petty functionary was complaining directly to him. Irresponsible.
The lift's door finally opened and he walked in. As the door closed he noticed a scrap of yellow paper on the floor and bent to pick it up. He did not approve of littering. Shaking his head in disgust, he once again thought of how his staff was failing to rise to his expectations. The quality of people assigned to Alpha seemed to be getting worse with each passing year. Not like when he'd first taken command. Folding the torn scrap into a small square to place in the recycle bin, and still lamenting his irresponsible staff, he completely failed to notice the writing on the back side of the yellow Eyes Only paper: 'Property of Commander Gorski, Moonbase Alpha.'
11 Sept. 2006
MGK