Space Nation

Manning, Stuart and a couple of troopers were sorting out the preliminary details of taking the plane when everyone heard the knock at the door. The six soldiers who were in position but, had taken a more relaxed stance, cocked and locked their weapons. The sound of chambered rounds into the breaches of rifles was unmistakable. At first, everyone else froze, until there was a second knock at the door. Then, everybody had a weapon in their hands. Manning motioned Stuart to the door. When he got there, just in time for the 3rd set of knocks at the door, he unholstered his sidearm. “Who is it?” Stuart asked, half singing in a high-pitched voice. For those who didn’t chuckle at that, it brought a smirk to the faces of the rest, including Manning. “Marcus Gowan,” was the reply through the door. That pretty much wiped the smiles off of everybody’s face, Stuart had noticed as he shot a look towards Major Manning who gave him a single nod. “I am going to open the door,” he said as he looked to the six men with weapons trained on the door. “There will be six rifles pointed at you. If you have any weapons, discard them, now.” “I came unarmed and with medical supplies,” came the reply. Stuart depressed the unlock button on the panel and the electric motors activated and the door slid open to reveal a lone male, hands up, palms facing forward. He made eye contact with Manning as he stepped through the doorway. Stuart grabbed him by the collar, pressing his sidearm hard into his neck and forced him to his knees. “Hands on your head!” he ordered as he quickly checked Marcus for weapons. After he was satisfied there were no concealed weapons, he tugged on his flight-suit to make him stand and marched him over to Major Manning. The whole time, Marcus and Manning never broke eye-contact. Manning had been concealing his un-holstered sidearm against his right leg and as the two came face to face. He holstered it. “Marcus Gowan, I presume?” Manning said. “Major Dennis Alexander Manning. Pleasure to finally meet you, Sir.” Marcus replied, hands still on his head. Manning’s eyebrows squinted, “How do you know my name?” “I know a lot about you, Sir. And of your men, of course.” Marcus admitted. “You know, of course, that is classified information. How did you acquire such information?” “I can’t reveal that, Major. Not right now,” Marcus said. “Very well,” Manning conceded. “Marcus Gowan. You are hereby under arrest under the North American Continental Security Agreement, Section Five, Paragraph One. You will be detained until you are handed off to the appropriate authorities whereby you will be interrogated by representatives of both the Canadian and American governments. Do you understand?” “I have one question, Major.” ‘This ought to be good,’ Manning thought to himself. “Go ahead.” “How do you propose to ‘hand me off’ to ‘said’ authorities, if you can’t deliver me?” Manning was puzzled by that question. For a second, he thought he was dealing with a cocky, arrogant wise-ass. Did this man not realize that he had all these personnel, artillery and air support to transport him back to civilization to face, guilty or not, charges of being a terrorist? Gowan knew they were coming for him. He had prepared for them and tried to run. Gowan had even tried to trick him into thinking all of their lives were in danger in a ruse to lock him and his soldiers into a room on some type of large aircraft. But, Manning had him, standing right in front of him. “Simply by turning custody of you over to the government in Ottawa,” Manning said. “Let me ask this question, Major,” Marcus paused. “How do you plan on getting me there?” When Marcus Gowan asked that question, Manning witnessed a seriousness in his eyes that was unmistakable. His voice belied the immaturity of his age. It was obvious he didn’t think Manning could deliver him to the Canadian capital. “We’re all going to take a nice little plane ride in one of four C-280 ‘SuperHercs’, where you will be bound and gagged, for your own safety of course, all the way back to Ottawa.” Manning said sarcastically. “On Earth, right?” Marcus asked. “Of course, you idiot!” Manning blurted out. He was beginning to form a very low opinion of this man. How anybody felt he was a threat to Continental Security should have his competency re-evaluated. Marcus leaned closer to Manning without taking a step and lowered his voice so that only those close by, could hear. “Major. We’re not on Earth.” Marcus revealed. Manning didn’t believe Marcus. “That’s insane.” Marcus slowly took his hands off his head and lowered his arms and chuckled, “Perhaps but, it’s the truth.” “We haven’t even left the ground, yet,” Stuart tried to justify. “Actually, Lieutenant, not only have we left the ground, we’ve left the planet, traveled twenty million miles and are now parked in near orbit of Mars,” Marcus replied. All those within earshot just froze. Some watched with mouths agape, some swallowing hard in disbelief. The result was the same. Silence. Manning’s and Marcus’ gaze met and the two men tried to size each other up. Manning trying to figure out if the man before him was lying or, as incredulous as it sounded, actually telling the truth. Marcus, confident the Major was a just and fair man, and would make the right decision. Marcus decided to give a peace offering. “Major, I know you have wounded and we’ve brought as many med-kits from the Infirmary as we could carry. I want to offer our assistance to your wounded,” he asked. “We?” Manning asked. “One of my crew is just outside the hatch. He is unarmed and he is one the best mechanics, I have. And he is an excellent medic,” Marcus explained while watching the hatch. “So, I really don’t want one of your soldiers, to accidentally shoot him. Can he enter to render medical assistance?” Manning looked over at Captain Svanda who was now unconscious, probably from shock. He nodded to Stuart to give the order. “You six, at the entrance,” Stuart called out. “Stand-down, secure your rifles.” The six soldiers who had been guarding the entryway, stood up immediately, switched on their safeties and stepped away from their previous positions. “Ron!” Marcus called out. “You can bring in those med-kits, now.” All eyes were on the individual as he slowly appeared, arms cradling several med-kits. He stopped to survey the Mess-Bay before actually entering. Stepping through, he began to hand out the kits until joining Manning’s medics huddled around Captain Svanda. Manning turned to Marcus “Let me get this straight. You claim that we are not on Earth but, in space. Orbiting Mars….” “Near orbit of Mars,” Marcus interrupted. “That’s impossible,” Manning concluded. “By conventional means, it would take almost a year to get to Mars.” “Yes. By conventional means,” Marcus agreed, adding nothing more. Stuart and Manning looked at each other. It was obvious that Marcus Gowan was admitting that this ‘aircraft’ was not powered by conventional means. They looked at Marcus and waited for an explanation and back at each other. Manning’s eyes narrowed as he looked back at Marcus. “Prove it.” Manning wasn’t expecting the response he received from the young man standing in front of him. “I thought you’d never ask,” Marcus said as he turned and headed for the open hatch of the Mess-Bay. “Follow me, gentlemen.”