 
# 2120 Titus

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# Copyright © 2018 by Razor Blade All rights reserved.

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# No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

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# This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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# Chapter 1

# Dissertation

"Your government loves your guns more than it loves your children," the tall man said. He was standing at the bottom pit of a lecture hall 3 in the Peterson Science building at Grand University in Lincoln Nebraska. The man in question was Dr. Hans Mueller, a thirty two year old grad student working on his second doctoral dissertation and a current professor of Computer Science and Astrophysics at the University. His second doctoral degree, and the one he struggled with the most to understand was Psychology, or more specifically, the Psychology of Behavior.

Diagnosed with mild Asperger's as a child, Dr. Mueller had a difficult time with social interactions, and understanding behavior in general. He loved science and soaked up knowledge like a sponge, but had difficulty relating what he was to teach his students because of his diagnosis. Asperger's was a cruel bitch for anyone with the diagnosis and Dr. Mueller was no different. He often struggled with social relationships and had difficulty communicating effectively with his students and colleagues. He was only interested in the sciences and didn't care for many of the humanity classes he was required to take for his degree. And like most high functioning autistics, he had above normal intelligence and language skills.

As part of his doctoral dissertation he had to prove his thesis-which must be significant and original- (no one has yet demonstrated it to be true), and it must extend the state of scientific knowledge. His thesis was that active shooters, in a school setting were responding to an evolutionary need for survival. He wanted to prove the motives for most school shootings were not from a revenge standpoint, but from an ancient need, held within our DNA, to survive and pass on our genes. In the modern world, the signals from our DNA no longer functioned in a way they did thousands of years ago due to changes in how societies have evolved. Basically, our culture has outpaced our gene sequences and the active shooter phenomenon was born.

The problem was there was only one way to prove it.

Dr. Mueller, upon entering the lecture hall set a duffle bag on the table and stepped over to the lectern. He poked and prodded his laptop until his Power Point projected onto the large screen to his left. The lecture hall was steep in design with the rows of students rising at a thirty degree angle up to the top where a single double wide door rose behind the last row of students. The doors were shut and the hall was now quiet except for a few grumblings from students who didn't necessarily agree with Dr. Mueller's first statement about the government and guns.

Picking up the clicker to his laptop, Dr. Mueller stepped over to the table looking over his shoulder at the massive screen behind him. He wore a wireless microphone that amplified his voice over the speaker system in the lecture hall and cleared his throat checking to make sure the system was working. The first slide he projected was a picture of Charles Whitman and Stephen Paddock side by side. The image was from a Washington Post website story on the two killers comparing how they both shot freely from a high vantage point and murdered innocent victims at will. Dr. Mueller read from the story, " _In 1966, on a hot Texas summer afternoon, ex-Marine sharpshooter Charles Whitman, 25, boarded an elevator in the University of Texas Tower with a cache of weapons, intent on deadly mayhem. From more than 300 feet above, Whitman blasted victims on campus and nearby — a pregnant woman, shot in the belly; her boyfriend, shot in the neck; a teenager, shot in the face. Seventeen people died that day, and more than 30 were wounded_."

Dr. Mueller looked over to the faces of the students and then back at the screen. He read on, " _Like the dozens of victims shot by Stephen Paddock from the 32nd floor of the Mandalay Bay resort, Whitman's targets were confused, defenseless and easy targets for at least 20 minutes as police scrambled to find where the shots were coming from."_

Then a student spoke up and said, "This is obviously a liberal college."

A chorus of students broke out in laughter at the remark and then they died down.

"What are you saying?" Dr. Mueller asked. He didn't know which student spoke up, and he didn't care. But now he was pissed because someone interrupted his presentation.

"Guns don't kill, people do," the voice replied.

"Please stand up," Dr. Mueller requested. The student, who was a third of the way up the hall to his right stood. He was a male, about nineteen years old in a ball cap and T-shirt and jeans. Dr. Mueller stepped around the table to the front and looked at the student shaking his head. "You say guns don't kill, people do?"

"That's right," the student replied.

"You must have got that off a NRA bumper sticker. You may be correct that guns alone do not kill people, but they sure make it easier---don't you think?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"I've never seen a gun kill anyone," the student replied. He was now nervous being called out in front of all his peers.

"If that is the case, why does your government issue firearms to the police? Or to soldiers?"

"Guns are tools, nothing more."

"I see," Dr. Mueller replied. "Then why not issue them screw drivers and hammers?"

The student was now becoming defensive and angry. "You just want to ban guns."

"How do you know what I want?"

The student had no reply.

"I believe everyone has the right to defend themselves," Dr. Mueller said. "And I'm a firm believer in the second amendment. But don't insult my intelligence and tell me guns don't kill when it is very clear they were created for that very purpose."

"But it takes a person..."

"Yes it does, but it is common now for people to quote the overused meme that guns don't kill, people do, to justify that guns are only tools. What you say and what you mean are two very different things---all together."

"Then why not ban cars? Or baseball bats? They can kill."

"I'm not saying we should ban guns, did you not hear what I said? Are you so angry that you are blind to what I am saying? And as far as cars and baseball bats go, they were designed to transport people and hit baseballs, not kill."

"But they can be used to kill," the student replied.

"Of course, I see where you are going with this. Anything can be used for a purpose it wasn't designed for. But the gun was designed to kill. All I want is for you to agree that guns were created to kill and that guns do indeed kill."

"People kill."

"I see I'm getting nowhere with you," Dr. Mueller replied. "Sit down."

"I didn't spend twenty grand to go to a college to be lectured on gun control," the student said. He was almost shouting.

"I'm not lecturing you on gun control. I'm simply stating a fact that guns do kill. They were designed for that purpose. You can use a gun as a paper weight, or to hammer in a nail if you are creative, but the original purpose of a gun is to kill."

A woman from the second row spoke up, "If someone wants to kill, they can use fertilizer, or cyanide gas, or box cutters or even a plane."

Dr. Mueller looked at the floor for a second and gathered his thoughts. "Did you know that one hundred percent of all school shootings involved a gun?" he asked as he looked up.

The woman didn't reply.

"Nobody took fertilizer, or cyanide gas, or box cutters or a plane to a school to kill anyone. Do you know what they took?" Dr. Mueller waited for an answer which he didn't get. "They took guns." Dr. Mueller stepped back behind the table and put his hands on the table top. "Although it is possible to purchase ammonia nitrate, it is very difficult to make it into a bomb. In its pure form, ammonium nitrate by itself is not explosive. In fact, bombs need two components beside the fertilizer: a detonator and a fuel. The fertilizer must be mixed with a fuel in an exact ratio, and the detonator must be able to generate sufficient energy. Don't get me started on what it takes to fly a plane. You watch too many movies."

"Take away our guns and see what happens!" another student called out. This time from near the top of the hall.

"Who's taking your guns?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"Just wait, that's what the lib tards want to do."

"What do you base this claim on?"

"You know I'm right."

"Let me see your data, your empirical evidence," Dr. Mueller snapped back.

"I don't need evidence, I hear it on the news all the time."

"You mean talk shows. I've seen no hard news about anyone in our government creating legislature to repeal your right to own a gun. That is pure scare tactics and from what I see here today, very effective."

"Just try to take my guns," the student said.

"Is that a threat?" Dr. Mueller asked.

No reply.

"I'm a firm believer in your right to protect yourself and your family and the 2nd amendment. Just don't tell me guns don't kill. I'm not that stupid," Dr. Mueller replied. "Now can I get on with my presentation?"

The student section was silent. It was obvious to everyone watching that Dr. Mueller was pissed as he stomped over to his laptop. He picked up a sheet of paper and looked at it, then he looked out into the crowd. The distraction caused him to lose focus and now he needed time to get his thoughts back together. The paper was blank but the students didn't know and it gave him sufficient time to cool off and regain his composure.

Dr. Mueller used his hand held clicker and changed the slide on his Power Point. A quote popped up and he read from the slide, " _Our perception of our ability to exert control over our environment has a substantial effect on our response to stress factors in our life. When we feel more autonomous, we're much more resistant to stress--and when we feel less autonomous, we can perceive the same set of circumstances as much more stressful."_ Mueller let that sink and said to the audience, "What he is alluding to is when we feel we are losing control of our lives, our stress responses increase."

Dr. Mueller clicked and the next slide appeared. At the top of the slide in bold letters the title of an abstract appeared, " **Representations of the Self in Social Phobia:**

**Vulnerability to Social Threat-** **Beck's cognitive theory of anxiety disorders."**

Dr. Mueller didn't read the title but went on to quote part of the article. _"Beck has described anxiety disorders as "hypersensitive alarm systems...sensitive to any stimuli that might be taken as indicating imminent disaster or harm."_ Mueller looked out to the student body and scanned faces _._ "As you can see, anxiety can trigger a threat response."

A student spoke up, "Are you saying anxiety is an evolutionary response?"

"It is obvious that anxiety is adaptive in protecting the individual from danger." Dr. Mueller replied. He again quoted from the Power Point. _"Since these ancestors lived in groups of about 150 individuals, the amount of bad news they could generate was limited, even if we add in bad news from neighboring groups. Now, we have available the bad news of many billions of people,"_ Dr. Mueller read from the slide.

"What does this have to do with school shootings?" a student asked.

"We evolved to feel stress when we lose control, or perceive we have lost control. Our survival mechanism kicks in and we remove the threat," Dr. Mueller replied.

"That doesn't explain why a shooter takes out as many as they can, why not kill whoever set him off and leave the rest?"

"To our ancient ancestors it didn't make sense to pin point a single threat out of a group. If the tribe from across the valley came to take your women and all your possessions, you killed them all before they killed you."

"And your saying in the modern age we can't differentiate between a mob and a bully?" the student asked.

"I'm sure most of us can, but the question is would we? In a rage, most people are blinded by the physiological responses to anger and act out towards the group. In the workplace it's not the asshole boss, it's the company and everyone who works there, in the school, it's not the bully but everyone who goes to the school. The shooter sees groups--- not individuals."

"But active shooting is a recent phenomenon."

"Culturally yes, psychologically and biologically no. We are too closely related to our ancestors to be any different. We may drive cars and use cellphones, but we are not that far from living in the jungle or out on the savanna of Africa."

"We are not animals," the student replied.

"Have you taken biology?" Dr. Mueller asked. For most people that would have been a joke, but to Mueller he was dead serious. He had a difficult time with metaphor, colloquialisms or figures of speech. Most things to him were as face value. To Dr. Mueller, the idea that someone would think humans were anything but animals was absurd.

"Yes, most of us have taken biology professor. We are humans, not animals," the student replied.

"Human animals, order primates would be a more accurate description, Genus-Homo sapiens."

"So you're saying we're incapable of revenge?" the student asked. "I think you're splitting hairs."

"Let's define revenge," Dr. Mueller replied. He pulled out his cell phone and looked up the definition on Google. Mueller replied, _"Revenge is the action of inflicting hurt or harm on someone for an injury or wrong suffered at their hands."_

"Exactly, your theory is wrong," the student replied with a chuckle.

Mueller set his phone down on the table and leaned back looking out at the student who smugly tried to destroy his theory. He felt a tinge of anger and smiled as a wave of emotion swept across him. "Very good," Dr. Mueller replied. "What's your name?"

The student hesitated and replied, "Brian Ralston."

"I want you to elaborate, tell me why I'm wrong Mr. Ralston," Dr. Mueller said. "And don't hold back. I'm here for research and I value your opinion."

Brian looked around the room and saw faces looking back at him. He was called out and nervous and now regretted saying anything in the first place. But now he had to defend his position. "If someone pisses me off, I'm capable of selecting that person out of the crowd. I know the difference between one person and many."

"Maybe the issue is the degree of anger," Dr. Mueller replied. "I'm not talking about getting an F on a term paper. I'm talking about persistent bullying, or rejection by the whole."

"I can still tell the difference."

Dr. Mueller walked around the table and stood behind the duffle bag he had set on the table when he first entered the room. He slowly leaned forward, picked up the bag by the rear and dumped out an AR-15 rifle and a pile of loaded clips. The metal made a scraping sound on the clean white table top as they slid out of the bag. He picked up the AR-15, and aimed the rifle at the ceiling feeling its weight in his arm. The rifle had a 40 shot clip with a bump stalk installed making it for all intents and purposes---automatic. He then lined up the remaining clips on the table in a nice neat order as the students watched. They assumed the gun was part of the lecture and used for a visual aid.

"Brian, I would like to thank you for your input, I will cite you when I put together my final dissertation. I meant to get a little further along in my presentation, but with all this back and forth discussion my time is almost up and I had one final part left. And this is it," Dr. Mueller said as he lowered the AR-15 and aimed it at the students. He pulled the trigger and emptied the clip into the student body towards the upper end of the lecture hall. His plan was thought out in advance so he would be able to block the exit as the students tried to escape.

Dr. Mueller pressed the clip release button and locked in his second forty round magazine and sprayed the students as they tried to escape up the steps towards the back. The students coalesced into a large group, blocked from the exit door and unable to evade the gun fire. By the forth clip, there were only a few students moving and that was good enough for him.

The experiment was for Dr. Mueller to feel and experience what it felt to be an active shooter and now he knew. He felt the adrenaline and the power he held over the helpless students as they tried to run from the bullets. Emotion was difficult for the autistic professor with the automatic rifle, but somehow he felt like he was on top of the world, even if it was just for that moment. When he finished his dissertation, he wouldn't have to cite anyone, he knew what it felt like to kill at will and kill as many as he wished.

The smell of spent gunpowder filled the air and blood drained down the stairs to the floor before him. He set the gun down on the table and waited for the authorities. He had no escape plan and had no intentions of taking the last bullet for himself. This was strictly an academic exercise. He stepped over to his laptop and brought up a Word document and started to type. He wanted to capture the feeling while it was still fresh in his mind.

The whole episode was recorded by the cameras mounted in the lecture hall and he knew what his fate would eventually be. But he would have something no other professor could have, the true and raw data from an actual experiment. The fact the students died during the experiment was not important to Dr. Mueller. To him they were no better than lab rats or a Rhesus monkey. All in the name of science.

# Chapter 2

# Six years later

Dr. Mueller sat behind a metal table, hand cuffed and monitored by two armed guards standing slightly behind him on each side. He had been an inmate at the Kearney Correctional Maximum Security Prison for the last six years sitting on death row awaiting his execution date. Six years prior, he managed to cut down and murder forty seven students during a lecture on school shootings. For the last six years, he put his time to use studying and working towards his second doctoral degree. No university would have him now, and he would never attain the degree, but he was satisfied he fulfilled whatever requirements were necessary.

The doctor was now thirty eight years old, with a salt and pepper beard and a high and tight military style haircut. He liked to keep the hair on top clean and neat but was too bothered to shave anymore. It was an inconvenience that he only partook in when the whiskers began to itch.

He had been sitting in the interview room for ten minutes when he finally noticed the door open. He had no idea why he was brought here and was surprised when he saw two women enter the room led by a guard. The first woman, tall and thin, with a grey blazer, skin tight leggings and four inch heels looked like something out of a teen fashion magazine. The other woman, shorter, more business like wore slacks and a blazer. Her shoes were insignificant.

The guard led the women over to the table and pulled out a chair for the shorter woman, both sat down and laid papers on top of the table. No one spoke at first as they seemed to be judging each other from across the table. Dr. Mueller did gaze over to the taller woman and shake his head in bewilderment. "Do you always dress like a whore?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"Excuse me?" the tall woman asked. She was taken aback by the doctor's forward, rude comment.

"I could see your camel toe from across the room. What are you? Forty? Don't you know how to dress?"

"I didn't come here to talk fashion," the woman replied.

"I would hope not," Dr. Mueller said almost cracking a grin. "Who are you?"

"My name is Linda Kaminski, I'm a lawyer with the Justice department."

Dr. Muller looked over at the more conservative woman and asked the same thing.

"Donna Coburn," the woman replied. "I work for the National Aeronautics and Space Administration."

"NASA," Dr. Mueller replied.

"Yes, NASA," Coburn replied. "We've come to discuss something of great importance with you."

"Obviously," Dr. Mueller replied with a smile. "But first I want to talk to Linda if you don't mind."

Coburn spoke up, "I have a presentation set up, we don't..."

"Slow down Donna," Dr. Mueller said. I have all day."

Coburn bit her lip and gestured for Dr. Mueller to continue. Linda wasn't sure she wanted him to.

"Now Linda, tell me why you come here to meet me dressed like a prostitute."

Kaminski leaned back in her chair and subconsciously pulled her shirt tight around her collar. "I told you I didn't come here to discuss fashion. I am a lawyer with the Justice department."

"You are a slut---get out," Dr. Mueller said waving her off like she was nothing.

Donna spoke up, "I need her here, and we both have something we need to discuss. It's very important."

"I've been here rotting in this prison for six years, what's so important now?"

"Can she stay?" Coburn asked.

Dr. Mueller didn't like the tone he was getting from either woman. Although he enjoyed the break from his normal routine, he didn't like feeling disrespected. "Only if she admits she's a whore."

The room fell silent as Kaminski turned a shade of red. She was livid and ready to explode. Swallowing hard and taking a calming deep breath, Kaminski said as calmly as she could muster, "Fuck you."

"A whore and a cunt, all wrapped up in one skin tight outfit, how nice," Dr. Mueller replied

"I'm a whore," Kaminski added just to shut him up. "If that's what you want to hear."

Dr. Mueller smiled and raised his hands gesturing his approval. "See, that wasn't so hard, now was it?" Dr. Muller looked Kaminski in the eye and awaited her reply. She gave none. "If you ever come in here again to see speak to me, I expect you to dress appropriately. Do you understand me?" Dr. Mueller asked.

Kaminski nodded her head and looked to the papers on the table. She was still a bright shade of red.

"Now, what do you two ladies want with me?"

Coburn opened a manila envelope and pulled out a color photo and laid it before Dr. Mueller. He instantly recognized the image as an asteroid, which one he didn't know.

"This is 2120 Titus, a seventeen km long, main belt minor planet category asteroid," Coburn said.

Dr. Mueller picked up the photograph and took a look at the asteroid. "Don't tell me, it's on a collision course with Earth and we have three days to stop it."

"Actually we have four years to stop it," Coburn replied.

"What? That makes no sense," Dr. Mueller replied. "Any asteroid coming from the asteroid belt should take no longer than a year at most."

"That's why we've contacted you Dr. Mueller. We can't figure out what caused 2120 Titus to leave the asteroid belt in the first place, let alone the speed."

"What's the lawyer here for?"

"We can get to that later," Coburn replied. "And there is something else."

Dr. Mueller started to get excited. He his doctorate was in Astrophysics as well as Computer Technology and this was just the kind of problem he craved. "Have you calculated the orbit?"

"Yes, but there is a lot of leeway. We won't have a good grasp on it for weeks."

"Is it going to hit Earth?"

"Maybe, we've calculated a window somewhere between the Indian Ocean and just inside the orbit of the Moon."

"That's quite a large area don't you think?"

"Yes, I need to tell you what we found."

"Oh yes, what was it?"

"We've detected a signal. We can't pin point it to 2120 Titus but we're fairly sure that's where it's coming from."

"What kind of signal?"

"VHF band, repeating oscillation every 3.14 seconds at 138 MHz" Coburn replied.

Dr. Mueller leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment. "Are you sure it's an asteroid?"

"Fairly certain, it was discovered in 1866," Coburn replied. "Its density was found to be very low, around 1.2 times the density of water," Coburn added, "Indicating that the asteroid is porous to very porous. It could be twenty five percent to as much as sixty percent empty space."

"That's a lot of empty space," Dr. Mueller replied. "Are you sure it isn't a vehicle of some sort?"

"It's been a known object for over a hundred years," Coburn replied. "And never moved from its orbit."

"And you just now realized it was heading towards Earth?"

"The Wide-field Infrared Survey Explorer picked it up three months ago thinking it was a new asteroid. We reversed the orbit and found it to be 2120 Titus."

"So what made you decide to check it for radio signals? As far as I know asteroids don't give off any."

"When an asteroid seventeen km's long is heading your way, you tend to throw everything at it. We needed to find out as much as we could."

"Who did your radio surveillance?"

"We used the Very Large Array in San Agustin fifty miles west of Socorro, New Mexico," Coburn replied.

Dr. Mueller took in the information and looked closely at the photograph. To him it looked like any other asteroid he had ever seen pictures of. It was oval shaped, kind of like a hamburger covered in light grey dust. He saw pock marks from smaller asteroid hits and nothing else that really stood out. "Do you have any other pictures?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"In the envelope," Coburn replied.

The doctor picked up the manila envelope and dumped out the three remaining photographs. These were of various sizes and different views, one color and two black and white. "This thing must spin," Dr. Mueller said, "How else could you get the different perspectives?"

"It rotates once every 3.6 days," Coburn replied.

Dr. Muller picked up one of the smaller photographs and held it up close to his face. "This thing has been through hell," Dr. Mueller said. "If I weren't mistaken, I'd say it has a small hole in it."

"Are you sure you're not seeing an asteroid impact crater?" Kaminski asked.

"A whore, a lawyer and an asteroid expert?"

"You don't have to be an expert on astronomy to know what an impact crater looks like," Kaminski replied.

He looked back at the photograph. "Could be, hard to tell from this image." Dr. Mueller set the photograph back down and shrugged his shoulders. "Beats me, by the way, why are you bringing this to me? There must be a half dozen unemployed astrophysicists out there who could use the work."

Coburn hesitated, like she didn't know how to break bad news. "We think the asteroid is answering a call."

"A call from who?" Dr. Mueller asked. The room fell silent as Dr. Mueller awaited her reply.

"A call from you," Coburn replied.

Dr. Mueller cracked a smile and squinted his eyes. He then shook his head and picked up one of the photographs and looked closely at it. "I've done a lot of things in my life Miss Coburn, but I can assure you, I've never called an asteroid before."

"It's Misses Coburn, and we don't mean directly. We think a code you created was broadcast into deep space and picked up by some intelligence located within the asteroid."

"What code? And how did you come up with that theory?"

"The asteroid has been broadcasting a repeating set of numbers over and over every 3.14 seconds at 138 MHz since we detected it moving out of the asteroid belt. It's the same set of numbers you embedded in code in a virus software program you created."

"What virus program?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"There's no use denying you wrote the program. We've known the source for years. You wrote it in a sub routine for a program you sold the US government for tracking wheat futures. It was designed to allow you access to CIA and NSA main frame computers. They discovered it almost immediately and kept it secret."

"So all the data I've received..."

"Yes, bullshit to keep you hanging on," Coburn replied.

Dr. Mueller let out a whimper of a chuckle realizing he had been had. "Yeah, well I created that one for fun anyway, no big deal."

"Sour grapes?" Coburn asked with a smile.

Dr. Mueller glared at Coburn. "So now what? You think this asteroid intercepted some transmission you obviously made and now it's coming to get me?"

"We don't know why it's coming, but we know it's coming because of something you did. Maybe you have some insight as to what it may be up to?"

"Fuck, I probably came up with that number sequence with a random number generator. I might as well as grabbed numbers out of a hat."

"Maybe so, but you're all we have for now, and we need you."

Dr. Mueller felt a bit giddy hearing those words. "You need me? That's fantastic. When do we leave?"

"Not so fast doctor, we have plenty of time to figure this out. And from what we have calculated so far the asteroid most likely won't hit us anyway."

"But it may loop back and hit us in, let's say, thirty years?"

"Closer to twenty, but yes. It could loop back if it passes within a narrow window of space."

"Either way you need me, what's in it for me?"

Coburn leaned forward and put her elbows on the table. She was pissed that this arrogant asshole would think he deserved any special treatment after murdering forty seven people in cold blood. She looked Dr. Mueller in the eyes and replied, "Not a fucking thing."

"Then why ask me?"

"Because maybe after killing all those students, you'd want to do something good for humanity. Maybe pay a debt to society. Maybe to get on God's good side before you die."

"Don't get me started on your God," Dr. Mueller replied.

Coburn leaned back in her chair and sighed. "Think about it. Chances are you can't do a fucking thing to change it anyway. If you decide you want to assist us, tell your warden, he has my number."

"What about the lawyer?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"Never mind, any deal we had is off the table."

"Get my sentence commuted and I'll talk."

Kaminski smiled and looked to Coburn. "Did you hear that? He wants his sentence commuted."

"You think that's funny?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"If we all die it won't matter anyway, and from the looks of it, you don't have a chance in hell of making any of this go away. Random fucking number generator," Kaminski said. She stood up and turned to walk away, but before she took a step, she leaned over slow and slid her hands down her legs raising her ass up for Dr. Mueller to see. In her skin tight leggings there was nothing left for the imagination.

Dr. Mueller wanted to shove the table into her ass and knock her on her face but noticed the table legs were bolted to the floor, instead he said, "If I weren't cuffed, I'd slap that fat ass of yours and you'd love it."

That was what Kaminski was waiting for, she gave him the bait and he took it. She stood up, spun around and pounded her fist on the table top. "You have no fucking right to do anything to me. Just because I'm a woman that doesn't mean you can treat me like a sex toy!"

Dr. Mueller smiled back at the pissed off woman standing before him in her skin tight leggings and four inch heels. "You made yourself a sex toy---cunt, and you know it. You dress like a whore to get attention, and the second you get it, you lash out like you were assaulted. You're the worst kind of fucking whore---a whore with an agenda against men."

"I have no agenda," Kaminski replied with a smug grin.

"If you leave here without a deal from me, your bosses won't be happy."

"You just told us you have no connection to the asteroid, why should we make you a deal?"

Dr. Mueller knew now he should have kept his mouth shut and backtracked the best he could. "I lied, I wrote that code specifically for that virus."

"Bullshit," Kaminski replied.

"Can you prove it?" Coburn asked.

Dr. Mueller scrambled for a reply. He really couldn't remember how he came up with the number sequence. But he couldn't let them know, not if he wanted to get out. "What is the code?" Dr. Mueller asked grasping for straws.

"Exactly," Kaminski replied shaking her head in disgust.

"It's been years since I wrote that code, how do you expect me to remember it? I've written thousands and thousands of lines of code in my day."

Coburn and Kaminski knew he was right. The chances of him recalling the code was poor at best and the chance they came upon the coincidence in the first place was very low. "I'll talk to my supervisor," Kaminski replied.

"What did they authorize you to offer today?" Dr. Mueller asked.

Kaminski paused before she replied looking down at the pathetic baby killer. "Life without the chance for parole in some shithole prison in Alaska."

"I love Alaska, you ever been there?"

# Chapter 3

# Two days later

Dr. Mueller spent the next two days sitting in his cell wondering what they expected him to do. Was he supposed to use a radio telescope to communicate with the asteroid and somehow make contact? If that was the case he knew his chances were as good as any twelve year old with a laptop and an internet connection. As an autistic, he often had difficulty with social situations, but he was able to convey his feelings adequately with those two high-dollar government bitches. They had no idea why he did what he did and they had no right to judge him. To Dr. Mueller it wasn't a murder of forty seven innocent students, it was a science experiment. An experiment no one had ever done before and worthy of a Nobel Prize.

A bang on the cell door brought Dr. Mueller out of his day dream and back into reality. He saw the door open and two guards step inside. The first guard, dressed head to toe in black riot looking gear looked down on Dr. Mueller who was lying on his bed. More accurately a bench used as a bed.

"What do you want?" Dr. Mueller asked. He wasn't used to being bothered at this time of day.

"Warden wants to see you," the lead guard replied. "And he has guests."

"Two bitches?"

"Guests," the guard replied. He wore a camera on his chest, chose his words carefully and didn't want to have to explain them to the correctional disciplinary board later on if he spoke what he really wanted to say.

Dr. Mueller stood up and followed the first guard out the door followed by the second. The hallway was barren with white institutional walls and florescent lights every twenty feet or so above them. Occasionally, as they walked down the hall towards the warden's office they would pass a white unmarked door with no window or handle. "What do you keep in those rooms?" Dr. Mueller asked himself. He didn't bother to ask the guards, he knew they wouldn't reply.

At the end of the hall, they were led into another hallway and then another until they reached the administrative wing of the prison. They were then buzzed in to a large office area with piped in easy listening music. The atmosphere was totally different with desks, people, windows and the smell of real life present all around.

"In here," a guard said and led Dr. Mueller into the warden's office.

The office was huge, with framed photographs of dead animals and vacations to distant lands hanging on the wall. The occasional dead animal head was mounted around the room with a moose head fixed above the warden's plush, black leather chair. The desk was cluttered with papers, books and food wrappers and behind the desk sat an obese, balding disgusting man. Warden Chet O'Neil. To the warden's right stood a woman and two men, all looking like they came from some secret government agency no one ever heard of and to the left of the warden's computer stood an eighteen inch plastic sauropod dinosaur model.

"Have a seat," O'Neil said with a mouthful of potato chips crunching with each syllable.

Dr. Mueller took a seat in the only chair facing the desk. The two guards flanked him and stood ready in case Dr. Mueller decided to go ballistic and take out the warden. Dr. Mueller just smiled and shook his head as if it the biggest joke he had ever seen. He didn't think he belonged in prison in the first place let alone be treated like a threat. "You can put your guns away, I'm not going to hurt anyone," Dr. Mueller said to the guard to his left. The guard didn't reply. "Fine," Dr. Mueller said under his breath and looked over at the warden who was now scooping out another handful of chips.

"I have a message from the Governor," O'Neil said. Chips spat out of his mouth onto the table. "He wants to move up your execution date."

"You called me down to tell me that?"

"Most people would want to know when they are about to die."

"Fuck, do it today, I have nothing to live for."

"Maybe, maybe not," O'Neil replied like a pack a day smoker hacking and wheezing as he spoke. "I have another message. And this one is real important."

"Cut to the chase, I want to get back to my cell," Dr. Mueller replied. "I have things to do."

"You just said you have nothing to live for."

"I just want to be left alone, ok?"

O'Neil grinned like a kid with a secret to tell. "The President called, he wants you to go chase some damn asteroid."

Now Dr. Mueller's interest was perked. "What do you mean by 'chase'? I thought they wanted me to make a phone call to the damn thing."

"Nope, they have a rocket ship. Already in space ready for you to take a trip."

"And he told you this on the phone?"

"Teleconference," O'Neil replied.

"Why didn't he teleconference me directly?"

"Because you're a fucking murderer. You can't expect the President of the United States to make calls to killers."

"I do if he wants something from me."

Warden O'Neil stopped chewing on his potato chips long enough to take a drink of his soda. He swished it around in his mouth and swallowed hard. He licked his lips and said, "Love that stuff, I drink ten bottles a day. Would drink twenty but my doctor tells me it will kill me."

"Is that diet soda?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"Fuck no, I don't drink that pussy stuff."

"You diabetic?"

"Of course," O'Neil replied looking over at his motorized scooter. "Lost my legs years ago, can't see much anymore either."

"You're going to let yourself go blind just so you can drink regular soda?"

"And chips, don't forget the chips," O'Neil said laughing. "Everyone has to die of something, looks like you're going to die from an asteroid impact. I should be dead before then. My father died of diabetes and hypertension when he was forty seven. I got four years to go."

Annoyed, Dr. Mueller replied, "Back to the President's call. What did he say exactly?"

"Says you can get out of prison free if you go up in space. He said they recalculated the trajectory, whatever that means."

"It means the asteroid may be here before your forty seventh birthday. You might get to see the world blow up in person after all," Dr. Mueller replied.

"Bullshit, I don't put any stock in that science shit. When God wants me, he'll come take me."

"Either way, it looks like you and the rest of us for that matter, don't have a lot of time left."

"What does the President expect you to do anyway? What do you have to do with this Goddamn asteroid?"

"Nothing, but the President thinks I can talk with it and change its path, and maybe that's his last best hope," Dr. Mueller replied. He looked at the sauropod dinosaur model and asked, "What's with the toy?"

"Belongs to my kid, he left it here a month ago," the warden replied.

"What kind of dinosaur is it?"

"How the hell should I know, it's a fucking kids toy."

"It looks like an Apatosaurus, or maybe a Diplodocus."

"Looks like plastic to me."

"Don't you think it's a bit ironic?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"What are you talking about?" O'Neil asked.

"I'm being asked by the President to stop and asteroid, and an asteroid is what killed the dinosaurs. Just like the one on your desk."

"It was the flood," O'Neil stated as a matter of fact.

"Oh, no, don't go there. I can fathom a random talking asteroid, but no, I do not accept that a flood killed the dinosaurs."

"Are you saying I'm some sort of ignorant?" O'Neil asked.

"No, just the regular kind."

# Chapter 4

# Space

The ride to the main space transport vehicle was worse than Dr. Mueller could imagine crammed into the Russian Soyuz capsule. He felt the shake and rattle and then a bang when the rescue system was jettisoned, then another bang when the four strap on boosters separated and finally another bang when the nose faring fell off. Then the windows were uncovered and light poured in from outside quickly turning to black as they entered space. From that point he felt another bang as the second stage separated and the g-load dropped. Eight and a half minutes after launch he heard another loud bang and then felt a jerk as the last section of the rocket was jettisoned from the spacecraft. And just like that, he was in space, heading for Plios 3, the ship that would rendezvous with 2120 Titus in ninety six days.

The other five astronauts were already aboard Plios 3 waiting for Dr. Mueller to join them. They were well aware of his background and safety measures had been put in place in case Dr. Mueller felt the need to do another experiment and add to his body count. Among the other five astronauts were three women and two men. He didn't know the full crew make up but was told he would have a meeting with them as soon as he docked with the ship and transported over. He was told that no one other than the astronauts aboard and a few other higher ups knew that he would be a passenger aboard the ship. The last thing they needed was a P.R. problem.

The trip to Plios 3 was fast, much faster than Dr. Mueller anticipated since the large transport ship was placed in high orbit far from the prying eyes of most cheap telescopes. They were over three hundred miles higher in orbit than the International Space Station that hovered the Earth at two hundred and fifty two miles. Plios 3 was made up of five main sections. The forward (Bow) section was the smallest section, used mainly for steering the ship, storing and launching the drones, and some back up communication. The second section was the largest part and was used for science and the everyday workload of the mission. The third section was the habitat the astronauts used when not working on projects. It served like the living room space in a house. The forth section was for sleeping and housing the main computer, a wall separated the two compartments but they were housed in the same basic unit. The last section, the (Aft) rear was where the ion thruster was housed. Using an ion thruster, the ship could reach speeds of up to over 200,000 mph. In comparison, the Space Shuttle could reach speeds around 18,000 mph.

The unique thing about Plios 3 was the middle three sections rotated creating an artificial gravity. The bow and aft sections remained locked in place allowing for the ship to navigate and move as if it were one solid ship. There were no windows, but there were monitors that did show the outside from cameras mounted on the bow or aft sections of the ship. This was done to reduce the chances of the astronauts getting vertigo.

Completing docking maneuvers, Dr. Mueller transported over to Plios 3. The Soyuz transport separated and headed back down to Earth to be recovered and salvaged for scrap. The first thing Dr. Mueller encountered was the airlock. Without an airlock, the ship could accidently vent its entire atmosphere into deep space in a matter of minutes. He waited briefly as the computer decided all seals were secure and opened the main door to the ship. With a whoosh of air, the air lock and the atmosphere of the ship equaled causing Dr. Mueller's ears to clog temporarily.

He shook his head and moved his jaw back and forth until the pressure difference settled. It was then he noticed a woman walking down the hall towards him with her hand out as if to shake his.

"Hello Dr. Mueller, I'm Commander Humphry," the Commander said.

Dr. Mueller extended his hand and shook hers. "Glad to meet you Commander Humphry, is that what I'm supposed to call you? Seems like a lot to say---and very formal."

"You can call me Commander," Humphry replied.

Dr. Mueller looked at her I.D. badge. "Says your name is Kate."

"Yes it does," Humphry replied. "We have a meeting, follow me," she said and turned and walked back down the hall.

The ship seemed much bigger from the inside than it looked from the outside. It was well over one hundred yards long and fifty yards wide, but it felt like it went on for miles. Humphry led Dr. Mueller down the hall, made a right and waited for the door to open. It was sort of like Star Trek except there was no swooshing sound. Humphry stepped inside and Dr. Mueller followed her. He was met by two other women and two men who were sitting around a conference table waiting for them to arrive.

"Have a seat," Humphry said motioning for Dr. Mueller to take the chair next to hers.

Dr. Mueller sat down and tried to fake a smile. He was great at one on one interactions, but the autistic in him detested groups of people.

"This is Dr. Mueller," Humphry said. "As you know he will be joining us on the mission to 2120 Titus. I'm not sure why, but our government seems to think he can be of assistance."

Dr. Mueller was taken aback by Humphry's comment and attitude. "What the fuck?" he asked.

"I almost didn't take this mission because they were bringing you along," Humphry said. "I had family that knew some of the students you killed. I said I would only command this mission if you stayed way the fuck away from me. If you do anything that remotely resembles an attack on me, my crew or this ship, I will fry your ass, or worse, and send your corpse out the airlock into space. You hear me?" Humphry was livid.

"Yeah, I hear you," Dr. Mueller replied.

"It's my responsibility to introduce you to the rest of the crew. Starting on your right is Jessica Hart, Chief Science Officer."

"Not Dr. Jessica Hart, or Dr. Hart?"

"No, she doesn't have a degree, is that a problem?"

"No, just asking. Go on," Dr. Mueller replied. He felt like a child being scolded by a parent.

"Next is Tom Yapchanyk, Chief Religious Officer."

Dr. Mueller wasn't sure he heard what she said correctly. "You're kidding right?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"This ship was almost totally funded by the **Holy Communion Church** of Dallas Texas. Of course there is a Chief Religious Officer," Humphry snapped back.

"Since when is a church interested in science?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"Catholic church has its own observatory," Yapchanyk replied.

"What are they looking for? Angels?" Dr. Mueller asked joking.

Nobody laughed.

"Next to Tom is Mission Specialist Cara Lange. She will be doing a lot of the actual mission workload. You will be working close with her."

Dr. Mueller kept his mouth shut and waited for the next name to be called.

"And this is Maintenance Specialist Jim Diller, and next to him is IBOT 2000, our work bot."

"Work bot?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"It does shit we don't want to do," Humphry replied.

Dr. Mueller looked around and shrugged his shoulders. "Now what?" he asked.

"We're left orbit twenty minutes ago, the ion engine takes a while to get us up to speed so if you want, you can go to your quarters and relax, or hang out in the lounge."

"Lounge?"

"It's what we call section three. You can have a beer and read, or watch movies or whatever."

"That sounds fine, just point me in the direction."

"Every room has a map, look for the X where it says 'You are here.'" Humphry said. "And follow the lines until you get to where you want. Each section is its own color, the lounge is sky blue."

Dr. Mueller stood and stepped out of the room into the hallway. He followed the color coded lines on the floor until he got to section three, the lounge. He felt that he wasn't welcome by anyone on the crew and it was just better to get away for a while. Maybe after being on the ship a few days, they would warm up to him and treat him like he was crew.

"Doctor---wait up," Yapchanyk called from behind.

Dr. Mueller slowed down and waited for Yapchanyk to catch up with him.

"If you don't mind, I'd love to have a discussion with you."

Dr. Mueller was annoyed by anything to do with religion. What a fucking waste of time. But he didn't want to cause a problem right away and replied, "Sure, I'd love to chat with you."

"Great, just go through that door and we can sit and have a talk. What would you like to drink?" Yapchanyk asked.

"I like expensive sugary coffee, I don't suppose you have a Starbucks on board?"

"No, but we do have Cappuccino."

"That will do," Dr. Mueller replied as he found a seat. The lounge really was a lounge with plush leather seats that reclined and television monitors on every wall. There was a nice walnut table in the center of the room, a great place to set his Cappuccino while he watched reruns on the flat screen.

Yapchanyk filled a tall glass of Cappuccino for Dr. Mueller and brought over a diet soda for himself.

"Is there a pool table?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"No, but we do have a PlayStation and an X box."

"I don't care for video games."

"At ten grand a pound, it would be far too expensive to haul up a pool table," Yapchanyk replied.

"But you hauled up these chairs, and this walnut table."

"That's not walnut, and that's not leather. These chairs don't weigh much at all."

"Oh, that makes sense," Dr. Mueller replied taking a sip of Cappuccino. "This is good," Dr. Mueller said. He wasn't joking, he liked his sugary coffee even if this wasn't coffee. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I'm glad you asked. I want to know about your personal relationship---with Jesus Christ."

Dr. Mueller choked on his coffee. He didn't have the heart to tell Yapchanyk what he really felt after bringing him the Cappuccino. But he did ask, so Dr. Mueller replied---once his throat cleared that is. --- "I don't have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ."

"Is that why you murdered all those kids?"

"What?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"Try not to be offended, but I feel the Devil has had his way with you. Would you say you're an atheist Dr. Mueller?"

"I don't care for labels, they don't do anyone any good."

"Then how did you feel as you mowed down those defenseless college students?"

Dr. Mueller had to think for a moment. He conducted the experiment for that very reason, to find out what he did feel as he killed his students. But he had never had anyone ever ask him before what his results were. "I felt exhilarated," Dr. Mueller replied.

"You mean like catching a big fish? Or winning cash at Bingo?" Yapchanyk asked.

"Sorta, but better. As I was shooting, I felt like I had to get them all. As if by leaving any of them alive, I wasn't doing it right."

"You took it as a challenge," Yapchanyk stated. Like he was a psychologist interviewing a patient in his office.

"Not at first, but it did become one as I saw them drop," Dr. Mueller replied. He almost cracked a smile, but then it was gone.

"It was fun for you?"

"I don't think 'fun' is the right word."

"What would be the right word," Yapchanyk asked.

Dr. Mueller blew on his Cappuccino and took a sip. He searched his analytical mind looking for just the perfect word to describe how it felt to shoot forty seven students in cold blood. "It was satisfying," Dr. Mueller replied. "Yes, I do think that is the correct term."

"Can you elaborate?"

"I felt like my experiment was a success. I can't say I was thrilled that I killed anyone, but I was satisfied that I conducted my experiment the best I could and that my results were unique."

"I don't understand," Yapchanyk said. "You were satisfied with your experiment, but you didn't 'feel' anything. To me that is a failed experiment. Unless you felt something, an experiment done by the books is worthless."

Dr. Mueller chewed on his lip. "Yes, I can see your point."

"Are you telling me you felt nothing as you murdered those people?"

"I will say, for a brief moment, I did feel exhilarated. But then I wasn't sure and I couldn't repeat the experiment. Was I exhilarated that I killed all those kids, or was it because I managed to perform the experiment without any outside interruption? I think maybe my experiment was flawed to start with. I needed for it to be double blind, but I had no other person who would pull the trigger. I think I may have tainted my own findings."

"So forty seven people died for nothing."

"Yes, if you put it that way," Dr. Mueller replied.

"What do you think Jesus thinks of you?" Yapchanyk asked.

"If you don't mind, I'd rather not discuss pseudoscience," Dr. Mueller replied.

"I'm not asking for a scientific interpretation. I'm asking what you feel in your heart."

"I feel like I screwed up my experiment, what else do you want from me?"

"I want you to find Jesus, let him come into your life. He died for your sins and if you believe in him, he will forgive your sins and have mercy on your soul."

"How much do you weigh?" Dr. Mueller asked.

Silence. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious, how much?"

Yapchanyk thought for another second. "One eighty probably.

"So you're telling me the US government paid one hundred and eighty thousand dollars to transport your waste of space up to this ship? Fuck, for that they could have put in a pool table and a dart game."

# Chapter 5

# Hart

The hot shower felt great on Dr. Mueller's skin. He wondered how they were able to let him use an unlimited supply of hot water when the ship had a limited supply of water on board. How did they heat it? There must have been some sort of fast acting recycling center somewhere in the ship with a nuclear heater on board. He had a small crew cabin to himself, no larger than his old college dorm with a refrigerator, sink, toilet, shower and bed. It wasn't much but it was a private space he could use to escape from the rest of the crew. Sort of like his old prison cell, only much, much better. His mind wandered in a day dream as the water splashed upon his skin. A dream about the far reaches of space and the long journeys he could take on this massive ship.

Then as quickly as he was lost in a dream, he was shocked back to reality when Dr. Mueller heard a woman's voice call his name. The shower door flung open to reveal Chief Science Officer Jessica Hart standing outside the shower stall watching him. She was holding some papers in her hand with her eyes glued to his hot wet body. "Excuse me, but we need to talk," Hart said as she looked Dr. Mueller up and down like he was on display.

Spinning to hide his privates, Dr. Mueller fumbled for the door to the shower but it was out of his reach. The warm water sprayed him in the face as he twisted and turned to cover himself from this female intruder. Finally he realized there was no way to cover himself and gave up. "Can you shut the door?" Dr. Mueller asked. He was annoyed.

"I've seen men naked before," Hart replied. "Lots of them."

"I don't care if you've seen the Pope naked, close the fucking door."

Hart pretended like she didn't hear Dr. Mueller and continued to stare at his naked body. It was obvious from her stare that she was turned on. She was a frumpy looking forty seven year old single woman who was five foot three and mostly tits and ass dressed in a jumpsuit and tennis shoes. For a moment she pondered joining Dr. Mueller in the shower but quickly realized they both wouldn't fit inside the stall. "I need to go over some data with you, and I have a few questions."

"Can we do this later?" Dr. Mueller asked.

Hart grabbed a towel off the sink and handed it to Dr. Mueller getting her arm wet in the process.

"I'm not finished yet," Dr. Mueller stated as a matter of fact.

"Take your time, I have all day," Hart replied. She looked like a starving diabetic gawking at a chocolate Pop Tart.

Dr. Mueller quickly rinsed the shampoo from his hair and turned off the water. He took the towel from Hart and dried himself off. "Step back please," Dr. Mueller said waiting for this woman to get out of his way. "Do you mind if I get dressed first?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"That's up to you," Hart replied. "I prefer you this way."

Dr. Mueller had never been sexually harassed by a woman before, and didn't know what to make of it. On one hand he liked the attention, but on the other he felt she was very rude. "Don't you have a husband?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"Yes," Hart replied.

"Do you think he'd approve of your behavior?"

"What are you? Gay? Most men love female attention."

"No, I'm not gay, but you crossed a line. You don't come into a man's bathroom and open the shower door."

"I would say I'm sorry but I'm not. You got a nice ass, wouldn't mind getting a piece of it later on," Hart said.

"How did you pass NASA's psych evaluation?"

"Easy, I blew every doctor that screened me," Hart said with a grin. "I'm a nympho, I admit that, but I am the best fucking Science Officer you will ever have the pleasure to meet. Now if you want, we can get this over now or later, it doesn't matter to me."

"Get what over? Do you mean this data that's so important?"

"No, I mean me fucking the shit out of you. I won't be able to concentrate until I blow my wad," Hart replied.

Dr. Mueller was shocked at what this woman was saying. He was also offended that she thought she could tell him what to do, he was a doctor and she was just a Science Officer. Anyone could be a Science Officer. "Sorry, I have a strict policy. I don't have sex with married women."

"You would if it were the right married woman," Hart replied.

Dr. Mueller scooted past Hart and pulled out some clothes from his dresser drawers. He sat on the bed and got dressed as quickly as he could all while Hart looked down at him, glaring and licking her fat lips. "I think it would be best if we conducted official science in the science section of the ship."

"Fine, have it your way," Hart said defeated. She followed Dr. Mueller out of his cabin, down the hall and into section two where all the lab equipment was stored. Hart pulled up to a computer terminal and found a seat for Dr. Mueller to sit down. She set the paper she had on the desk and typed on the keyboard. After a few taps on the keys, a string of numbers popped up in bold black letters. "See this," Hart said pointing to the number sequence. "This is what 2120 Titus has been broadcasting. It is the same number sequence you used in your virus program. Do you recognize it?"

Dr. Mueller leaned in close, but not so close as to let Hart get any mixed signals. He scanned the numbers and nodded his head. Yeah, I remember that. I needed a spacer between two lines of code and I used that."

"What does it mean?" Hart asked.

"It's the Fibonacci sequence from the tenth to the twentieth position. I'm surprised you didn't see that."

Hart looked closer at the numbers. They read, 5589144233377610987159725844181. "How the fuck was I supposed to figure that out?" Hart asked. They had some of the best computers on the planet working on this."

"So you can see why the asteroid picked up on that number sequence, it's found in nature. I didn't come up with any secret code."

Hart leaned back in her chair. "So you're telling me they hauled your ass up here for nothing?"

"They could have asked me before I left Earth."

"They got their panties in a bunch and took off before they did any kind of investigation. Now what are we going to do with you?"

Dr. Mueller looked at Hart like she was clueless. "I'm a PhD Astrophysicist, and have a PhD in Computer Science as well. I'm probably more qualified to be aboard this ship than you are. You stupid, fat, frumpy, sexual predator."

"I'm not a sexual predator. They never found any evidence," Hart replied.

"Evidence? Are you serious? Were you charged with a sex crime?"

Hart looked away and pretended like she didn't hear what Dr. Mueller asked. She picked up the sheet of paper from the desk and tossed it in the recycling bin. Then she started to stand when Dr. Mueller again asked her about her past.

"I'd rather not discuss my previous life with you if you don't mind," Hart replied.

"How did you get in the space program? Don't they screen the candidates?"

"I told you, they didn't find any evidence."

Dr. Mueller shook his head. He looked Hart in the eye and asked, "What did you do?"

"Fuck off," Hart replied as she stood up. She waddled her fat rear across the room and out the door into the hallway. She was gone.

# Chapter 6

# Drones

Cara Lange was a tall woman, very tall. At 6'6" she stood like a bean pole and weighed around one hundred twenty pounds. To most she looked like a poster child for an eating disorder, but to the mission, she was invaluable. Not only did she supervise and conduct most of the mission work, she also was the pilot. Not that she needed to do anything, all navigation was done back on Earth by radio telemetry, but she was there in case something went horribly wrong and radio waves wouldn't cut it.

She stepped into the science pod and found Dr. Mueller sitting next to a computer terminal. She didn't see Chief Science Officer Jessica Hart leave the unit, but she could smell her musty odor as it trailed behind. "That woman needs a bath," Lange said in disgust.

"She tried to take one with me," Dr. Mueller replied. "I mean a shower."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, she stood there and watched me in the shower for a good three or four minutes before I told her to leave me the fuck alone."

"Did she?" Lange asked.

"No, and then she had the balls to tell me she wanted to fuck me."

"Wow, aren't you special," Lange said with a grin.

"You wouldn't be saying that if it were the other way around," Dr. Mueller replied.

"She's gross, I try to avoid her, and you should too."

"I'll take your advice."

"What are you up to?"

"I was explaining to that bitch the code they keep giving me credit for was nothing I did on purpose. I have no plan to contact aliens and ask them to run their asteroid into Earth."

"But it did seem odd," Lange said. She took a seat at the computer terminal and logged on.

"It was pure math, I chose the series at random but the sequence was from a known number set."

"I hate math," Lange replied. "Don't bother trying to explain, I believe you. There's no reason why anyone from outer space would want to contact you. No offence, but I don't think you're anything special."

"That's what I keep telling everyone, why won't anyone believe me?"

"That's because people are paranoid and stupid. They can't believe that anything can be random and that everything has to have a purpose" Lange replied.

"Like natural selection," Dr. Mueller replied.

"Don't go there, especially around Yapchanyk, he will eat you alive."

"You mean that religious fruitcake?"

"He and his fellow fruitcakes paid for most of this ship, I'd watch what you say."

"I was already on death row, it can't get much worse than that."

"Yes it can, and Yapchanyk will see to that." Lange continued to punch keys on the keyboard and rifle through page after page of ships logs, work routines, computer program data files and communications between Earth and Plios 3.

"What are you looking for?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"Maintenance records for the drone," Lange replied.

"Drone?"

"Actually drones, we have two."

"That's cool as fuck. Where are they?"

"They are docked inside the bow of the ship."

"Are they tethered?" Dr. Lange asked.

"No, they are totally independent. They can be controlled from here or by the pilot."

"What is the capacity?"

"Two, the pilot and copilot," Lange replied.

"The second passenger has to be a pilot?" Dr. Mueller asked. He seemed concerned.

"Not necessarily," Lange replied. "I'm just used to hearing it that way. Actually neither have to be pilots, we can navigate from here."

"Can I see them?"

Lange punched some keys and a schematic diagram of a drone appeared on the screen. "There you go," she said.

"That's pretty awesome, but I mean in person."

"Not until I confirm the maintenance records."

"What? Did they forget to put gas in them?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"Possible, I wouldn't go out in space without checking first. I do know there was some issue with the computer sub routine that controlled the oxygen output. It kept running into a fatal error. But they said that was all corrected."

"What kind of inept fucks do you have working at NASA?"

"NASA didn't build the drones, they were contracted out to a German Astro engineering firm Grothmann Aerospace. Most of this ship is Japanese in design, German and Chinese in construction."

"What's wrong with good old American labor?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"You're an American, right?" Lange asked with a smile.

"Yes, but that is American jobs. My tax dollars paid for this and I don't want my money going overseas."

"Too late," Lange replied. "If you want to see them, let's go."

The walk to the bow of the ship was short as section two, the science lab was connected to the bow. The only concern Dr. Mueller had was how they were traverse into the bow since section two and the bow were in constant rotation from each other. The bow stayed on an even plane in relationship to Earth while sections two through four rotated to create artificial gravity. When Dr. Mueller arrived at the junction, he found out it was a simple process of stepping into what looked like an elevator. When he was secured inside and both doors closed, the door to the bow opened and he flew out. There was no disorientation because when the doors closed, he no longer had a reference for the spinning motion. 'Incredible'-he thought to himself. And was weightless.

"This way," Lange said as she floated down the narrow corridor to the area where the drones were stored. She stopped at a ladder and led Dr. Mueller down into a substation where the two drones were docked side by side. They looked like something from a deep sea mission with clear domes for the pilots to view through.

But there was a problem with one of the domes. The clear polymer was covered on the inside with a thin coat of what looked like blood, blood that had been splattered from the inside.

"What's that?" Dr. Mueller asked pointing to the red stained dome.

"I don't know," Lange replied. She slid through the air over to the drone and stopped close enough to see what was hidden inside. Then she gagged and pushed herself back banging against the wall behind her. "Oh my God," she said. "It's Jim."

Dr. Mueller pushed off from the wall and glided over to the drone and looked inside. What he saw was the remains of a man floating inside the drone. Bits of brains and bone floated inside along with globs of coagulated blood and tissue. "What happened? Was there explosive decompression?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"I don't think so, the drones have never left the ship. They should be compressed the same as in here," Lange replied.

"What would cause him to blow up like that?" Dr. Mueller asked. Then he took another longer look and noticed something he hadn't seen the first time. In Jim Diller's hand was a pistol. "He has a gun," Dr. Mueller said. "How the fuck did he get a gun?"

"He's security, he and Commander Humphry are the only ones allowed to carry a weapon."

"Do you think the Commander shot him?"

"No, he was depressed. I know, we spoke a lot about it," Lange replied. "I thought he was getting help."

Looking once more into the drone through the clear, blood stained bubble, Dr. Mueller tried to figure out how long Jim Diller had been there. From the looks of the clots he estimated a few hours. "When was the last time anyone spoke to him?"

"I don't know, the last time I saw him was yesterday," Lange replied.

"I don't want to bring you down any more than you already are, but how will this affect the mission?"

"We can do without a security officer, but he was also our maintenance man. If something goes wrong, we'll have to fix it ourselves." Lange replied.

"That's not what I meant, we're down one drone now. Unless somebody's going to clean this up."

Lange looked at Dr. Mueller like he had slapped her in the face. "Is that what you're concerned with? Whether or not we can use both drones? There is a dead man in there, it's like a grave."

"Hey, the last thing I want to do is offend you. But when we get to this rock, we might need to get a closer view, and if his body is still inside this drone, it will limit our ability to investigate," Dr. Mueller said. He was trying to be diplomatic and not rub her the wrong way.

Lange pushed away from the wall towards the stairs. She pushed herself up the stairwell and into the main section above. She hovered and waited for Dr. Mueller to follow but he didn't. "What are you doing down there?" Lange yelled.

"Give me a second," Dr. Mueller yelled back.

Lange grew tired of waiting for Dr. Mueller and reentered the science module alone. There she contacted Commander Humphry on her communications link which she wore around her wrist. Hearing of finding Diller dead in one of the drones, Humphry told Lange she would be there soon to investigate. Lange was told to stay put as well as Dr. Mueller who was still somewhere in the bow section of the ship.

Minutes passed and the door slid open to the science section as Dr. Mueller stepped inside. He seemed different to Lange, as if he were trying to hide something. "What took you so long?" Lange asked.

Dr. Mueller replied, "I wanted to take some pictures, so I broke into the drone. And I was wrong about one thing, he didn't have a gun."

"Then what did you see in his hand?" Lange asked.

"I think it was his phone," Dr. Mueller replied. He seemed evasive in is answer.

"Then explain to me why he looked like he did? What would cause all the blood, and body parts?"

"Maybe he took the drone out for a spin and forgot to close the hatch. Explosive decompression can do that to a person."

"So how did the drone get back in the ship if was dead?"

"I suppose the drone has some sort of homing mechanism, in case of an emergency," Dr. Mueller replied.

"It doesn't," Humphry replied as she stepped into the room. 'But we can steer it back to the landing dock from the bow control center if needed.

Dr. Mueller was surprised to hear Commander Humphry's voice from behind him. "Then I don't know," Dr. Mueller replied.

Lange said, "Don't we have video surveillance of the docking bay?"

"Only when the drones are activated, otherwise there is no reason to run the cameras. It eats power."

"So there's no way to find out what actually caused Diller to die?"

"Oh, there are ways, we just need to do an investigation. Find out where everyone was in the last day and track his movements the best we can."

Dr. Mueller asked, "Don't you have chips in all of us to keep track on the computer?"

"No," Humphry replied. "In the US, you still have rights and one of those rights is to be free of being surveilled 24/7."

"So we seem to have a mystery on our hands," Dr. Mueller said. "A real who-done-it. Who would have wanted Diller dead?"

"First we need to find out how they did it," Humphry said. Then a beeping sound filled the cabin. It wasn't loud, and repeated about every half second. Then a slight shutter was felt from the floor and then was gone. "What was that?" Dr. Mueller asked.

Lange stepped over to the computer terminal and started typing. In a few moments the screen was filled with the communication board where all the messages from the main computer were displayed. She read aloud, "Docking bay one open, drone **C44A** launch sequence activated."

"Holy shit, someone is taking one of the drones out," Humphry said. "Bring up the camera from the outside."

Lange punched buttons and a real time picture popped up on the screen of the docking bay door. It was already open and the drone was sliding out of Plios 3 into deep space.

"Who's on board that drone?" Humphry asked. She was anxious and angry.

"That's the drone Diller was on," Lange replied.

"If he's dead, who's driving that thing?"

"Lange looked at the bottom of the screen and got her answer. "We are," Lange replied. "By 'we' I mean Plios 3 is commanding the done by remote."

"How can that happen?" Humphry asked. "Get it back!"

Lange punched the keyboard and ran through several pages until she found the section she was looking for. The program that ran the drones remotely. What she saw looked strange to her, she could read out all the parameters for the drones, the speed, the orientation and all that, but the section for navigation was all in light grey. There was no way for her to input new data to correct the course of the drone.

"What's wrong?" Humphry asked.

"Someone has tampered with the control panel. There is no way for me to do anything. We'd need a computer expert, or someone from Earth to look at what happened."

"Where is the drone headed?"

The heading listed on command prompt was clear as to the drone's destination. "4 Vesta," Lange read aloud.

"What the fuck? Why is it heading to another asteroid? It will never make it that far. Is there any way to get it back?"

"We don't have a tractor beam like they do in Star Trek, and we can't vary our course to pick it up," Lange replied.

"So we're fucked," Humphry said as a statement and a question.

"Yes ma'am, the drone is lost to us."

"So now we need to figure out why Plios 3 decided to jettison a drone without authorization."

Dr. Mueller spoke up, "Couldn't Earth control do that? I mean, they have as much control over the ship as we do, right?"

"Technically yes," Lange replied. "But they would have told us first."

Humphry thought for a moment. "Who would have wanted the drone off the ship and leave us unable to retrieve it?"

Dr. Mueller stood up as if he just had an Epiphone. "It was Diller, he preprogrammed the drone to leave the ship, there's no other way."

The explanation Dr. Mueller gave was plausible to Lange and Humphry. It very well could have been Diller who somehow committed suicide and decided to have his own burial in space. He probably figured there would be plenty of time before anyone found his body and preset the drone to take off.

"Yeah," Humphry said. "I can see that. He did it himself," she added almost lost in a daze as she thought about how much effort went into his suicide and eventual burial. "I will contact Earth base and talk to them."

"What is the communication time delay now?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"Seventeen minutes from Earth to our present position," Lange replied.

"So Earth base doesn't know the drone has left yet." Dr. Mueller stated.

"That is correct, but they will soon and I need to figure out how I'm going to explain how a crew member got into a drone and somehow killed himself, and then jettisoned the drone into space without any of us knowing what was going on. If I were Earth command, I would think we were the biggest bunch of dumb asses they could have found to fly this mission."

# Chapter 7

# Servo

Reading the news off his tablet, Dr. Mueller was deep in thought when he heard his com link ding at him. He touched the screen on his wrist communicator and saw a message from Commander Humphry telling, not asking him to come to her office. He said, "What's up?" into the communicator which turned his voice into text and sent the message. The response on the screen read, 'Immediately."

Although he was bored with nothing much to do, he dreaded speaking with Humphry. She was short with him, never said a kind word and she seemed like an overall cruel bitch. But what the hell, he had nothing better to do and got up and left his room.

Upon arriving at the Commanders desk, Dr. Mueller noticed the stench of Jessica Hart, the Chief Science officer and sexual predator. Humphry motioned for Dr. Mueller to take a seat and handed him a sheet of paper.

"What's this?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"A complaint," Humphry replied.

"About what?"

"Jessica Hart claims you sexually assaulted her in you living quarters."

Dr. Mueller lost his shit and his jaw almost hit the floor when he heard the accusation. "What the fuck are you talking about? I never laid a finger on that ugly ass bitch."

"Not what she says. If you read..."

"Fuck, I'm not reading this, just tell me what she said," Dr. Mueller replied setting the paper on the table.

"She says you called her to your living quarters and proceeded to expose yourself to her. She says you stepped out of the shower naked and wouldn't let her leave."

Dr. Mueller turned red. He was so livid he could barely reply. "That piece of shit came into my bathroom and opened my shower door. She stood there and gawked at me and I told her to get the fuck out."

"Do you expect me to believe you?" Humphry asked. She shook her head in total disbelief. "What woman would do that?"

"This is bullshit and you know it. She said she had a record. Look it up."

"What record are you referring to?"

"I don't know, she just said nobody could prove anything."

"I see," Humphry replied. "So you claim she is some sort of peeping Jane?"

"She said she wanted to screw me," Dr. Mueller replied. "Ask her."

"I don't think I need to ask her Dr. Mueller. You are the one with a record, not her. I find it much more likely that you exposed yourself than she forced herself on you. Most women can get any man they want."

"What kind of witch hunt is this? I didn't do anything wrong. And you have no proof to substantiate your claim."

Humphry knew Dr. Mueller was correct. What she had was anecdotal at best and not much better than hear say. "I will call this a written warning," Humphry said.

"Written warning of what? What are you warning me about?"

"That you exposed yourself. At least you didn't touch her, which would be something altogether different."

Dr. Mueller shook his head in disgust. What he was hearing was so absurd that he couldn't make sense of it.

"I just need you to sign the paper that you've been given a warning."

"I'm not signing anything," Dr. Mueller said as a matter of fact. He kept his voice low and steady and tried his hardest not to raise his voice.

"I'll make a note that you refused to sign."

"Good, make a note that I didn't do what you are accusing me of as well," Dr. Mueller said. This time he was more anxious. He looked around and found the camera that was recording the conversation. He looked into the lens and said, "For the record, I didn't do anything to Jessica Hart, she assaulted me." He looked at Humphry and said, "Don't delete that video file."

"Is that a threat?" Humphry asked.

"No, it isn't," Dr. Mueller stated. And then something crossed his mind. "Why are you bothering with this in the first place? The Earth is going to be destroyed and we will be the last five people alive. What are you going to do to me? Put me in jail?"

"Is that were you belong? In jail? Are you making a confession?"

Dr. Mueller was in a rage. He had to calm himself down before he lashed out at the Commander. "I am confessing to nothing," he stated as calm as he could. "But for the record, I am innocent."

Humphry rubbed her double chin and leaned back in her chair. "You know I can take you out at any time don't you?" she asked.

Silence. "What are you talking about?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"Before they transported you to the station, you had a physical, remember?"

Dr. Mueller remembered going to the medical unit and being examined. "Yes, I remember."

"During the physical, do you recall an IV inserted in your arm?"

Dr. Mueller had to think hard, but he didn't recall an IV. "No," he replied.

"That was the anesthesia. For the surgery you had."

"I'm really getting tired of this. What surgery are you talking about?"

"Have you noticed the surgical wound and stitches you have on your chest?" Humphry asked.

Dr. Mueller shook his head and looked down at his shirt. He lifted the shirt up and saw between his nipples a small one centimeter wound with four stitches. "How did that happen?"

"You were taken to surgery and a valve was placed in your Superior Vena Cava just above your heart."

"A valve? Why?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"To control you in case you went insane and tried to kill the crew. The valve has a servo motor that I can control. If you become a threat, I activate the valve and the blood flow to your lungs is shut off. You die in six minutes."

Dr. Mueller swallowed hard and tried to make sense of what he was hearing. He could see the evidence of the surgery with his own eyes, and he knew the technology was current enough to install the valve, but his lack of memory confused him. How did he not realize he had a surgical wound? "How did I not see this before?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"You were hypnotized. Only when someone brought it to your attention would you realize the incision was there," Humphry replied.

"So why did you ask me if I knew about it. Obviously you knew I didn't"

"That was a mistake on my part, it was more a figure of speech."

"So why bother with the paperwork. If you want me dead, just do it."

"I'm not going to kill you for sexually assaulting a female crew member."

"I told you I didn't do it!" Dr. Mueller snapped.

"Sign the paper," Humphry said.

Dr. Mueller stood up and stepped away from the desk. He pulled his shirt down and tucked it into his pants as if he had never seen anything. "You can take your paper and shove it," Dr. Mueller said. "You may have power over me, but I won't let you control me. I didn't touch that fat cow and I don't care if you believe me or not. By this time next year it won't matter anyway. The Earth will be burned to a crisp and we won't have anywhere to go."

Humphry stared at Dr. Mueller and didn't reply. She took the paper and put it in an envelope and set it on the counter next to her.

Dr. Mueller left.

# Chapter 8

# Mass Extinction

The calculated distance from 2120 Titus to the Earth was now sixty days, the distance from 2120 Titus to Plios 3 was now forty five days. The space craft had been heading towards the asteroid for five and a half months and was at maximum speed. In a few days they would need to start slowing down in order not to pass the asteroid and miss the rendezvous.

Life on Plios 3 had become routine and dull with not much to keep the astronauts busy. The main mission wouldn't take place until they reached the asteroid and surveyed its makeup and discovered what was transmitting the radio signal. Was it part of the asteroid? Was it something attached to the asteroid? In the meantime, the crew found busy work to keep them occupied and Dr. Mueller took the opportunity to study and do research on a variety of topics. He enjoyed learning, not because it made him smarter than everyone else, but because he had a natural curiosity for knowledge.

The science lab was where Dr. Mueller spent the majority of his time. He would spend hours surfing the data files looking for something to read. Currently he found interest in the formation of binary star systems. He had studied them as part of his classes for his astrophysics degree, but now he could find new information, and papers written by his colleagues that put a new perspective on the topic.

Dr. Mueller was deep in thought reading about the system Alpha Centauri A and B and how a possible new planet had been discovered orbiting a companion star Proxima Centauri. He found the Alpha Centauri system fascinating because it was our Suns closest stellar neighbor at 4.3 light-years from Earth. He read how astronomers detected an Earth-size planet orbiting Proxima Centauri.

The newfound world, known as Proxima b, about 1.3 times more massive than Earth, suggested that the exoplanet was a rocky world. He looked at the monitor on the wall that showed a vast star field stretching from one side of the screen to the other. The image taken by a camera mounted on the bow section of Plios 3. The camera was not pointing in the direction of Alpha Centauri, but the thought of other worlds orbiting those tiny white dots gave him shivers.

Then Dr. Mueller heard the door to the science pod open and faint footsteps behind him. He knew he was no longer alone but decided not to turn around, instead keeping his eye on the star field on the screen.

"Dr. Mueller, how are you today?" the familiar voice of Religious officer Tom Yapchanyk asked.

Turning in his chair, Dr. Mueller replied, "Great."

"Just great? Looks to me like you found something to read." Yapchanyk said as he leaned over Dr. Mueller to take a look at what was on his computer screen. "Binary Star Systems," Yapchanyk read aloud. "I'm not familiar with those."

"Yeah, it's dull reading," Dr. Mueller replied trying to get Yapchanyk to leave. He detested Yapchanyk's attempts to corner him into having 'conversations' about the Lord.

"Dull?" Nothing that our Lord created is dull."

"If you don't mind, I was in the middle of studying," Dr. Mueller said.

"If you don't mind doctor, I am required by my employers to make at least three contacts a week with the crew of the station. You have been avoiding me consistently. If nothing else, could you allow me to speak to you so I don't get in trouble?"

Dr. Mueller took a deep breath realizing he couldn't get away this time. "Fine, go ahead," Dr. Mueller replied. He put his elbow up on the computer desk and crossed his legs. If he only had some coffee.

"I have something for you, something very special."

Dr. Mueller watched as Yapchanyk pulled out an old ragged bible from a plastic pouch and laid it next to Dr. Mueller's arm.

"Pick it up," Yapchanyk said like a giddy child at Christmas.

"Why didn't you just hand it to me?"

"I didn't want to seem like I was forcing it on you."

"But you just told me to pick it up."

"Sorry, I should have handed it to you---now please."

The bible looked old, like hundreds of years old. The leather cover was faded and brown, the hubbed spine had been scratched and scraped but the title was still readable. Dr. Mueller picked it up and opened it to the first page and read the printers note, ' **William Burkitt - Binns and Brown – 1796.** ' The pages were worn but very readable with the old English font. "Where did you get this?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"I picked it up at an auction," Yapchanyk replied. "I collect antique bibles."

"Is this one worth anything?"

"About $2000 I'd say."

"Wow, that's quite a present," Dr. Mueller replied.

"I didn't pay near that when I got it."

Dr. Mueller flipped it over and checked the bible from all sides. "Ok, now what am I supposed to do with it?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"Read it, of course."

"I've read the bible, most of it at least. It's online you know."

"Yes I know, but online it's cold and distant. When you read from a book like this the message comes through much clearer."

"Dr. Mueller flipped through a few pages and read. "And the earth was without forme, and voyd, and darkenesse was vpon the face of the deepe: and the Spirit of God mooued vpon the face of the waters." I don't see how that's much clearer. You almost need an interpreter to read it.

"Trust me, the word does not fill your empty soul from a computer screen like it does from the pages of a well-read bible," Yapchanyk said. He was very sentimental.

"Well, thank you for the gift, but I need..."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to have a short bible study with you. It's one of my requirements."

Frustrated, Dr. Mueller replied, "Go ahead, I've got nothing better to do."

Yapchanyk smiled and pulled out another bible from his pack, this one was bright red and looked like it was printed yesterday.

"Before you start reading scripture, can I ask you a simple question?"

"Is it biblical?"

"Well, sort of. I've always had this question and have never found a suitable explanation."

"Go on," Yapchanyk said. He seemed almost concerned.

"Now don't think I'm trying to argue, and I'm not trying to make fun of you and your religion, but what does the bible say about the dinosaurs? I mean, we're there dinosaurs on the ark?"

"That is a very good question, and I do have an answer for you. Yes, there were dinosaurs on the ark."

"I was afraid you would say that."

"Why?"

"Because only a crazy person would say dinosaurs were on the ark. Only a crazy person would say there was an ark," Dr. Mueller replied.

"I believe the bible," Yapchanyk said flat. "The bible says the Earth is 6000 years old..."

"What?" Dr. Mueller asked. He was offended at what Yapchanyk stated as fact. "The Earth is not 6000 years old."

"Not according to Archbishop James Ussher. He calculated the age of the Earth based on the linage from Adam to Jesus Christ. Then add on the 2,000 years since Christ and you get 6,000 years."

"If that's so, when did this so called flood occur?"

"4,400 years ago," Yapchanyk replied. "So God said to Noah, "I am going to put an end to all people, for the earth is filled with violence because of them. I am surely going to destroy both them and the earth."

"I'll give you credit for one thing, you really know your bible verses," Dr. Mueller replied. "But that doesn't explain dinosaurs on the ark, if there was an ark. Dinosaurs died out seventy million years ago."

"Dinosaurs have always lived with people, they called them dragons, and they lived in the Garden of Eden along with the other animals and Adam and Eve," Yapchanyk explained. He was talking like a teacher relaying information to an elementary student. " _Job 40:15-_ _Behold now behemoth, which I made with thee; he eateth grass as an ox."_

"I think you're taking quite a liberty with your use of the term " _behemoth,_ ' that could mean any large animal, an elephant, a rhino, who knows?" Dr. Mueller argued.

"But dinosaurs have been observed in recent times. There is the story of the Mokele Mbembe, seen by Pygmies in the in the Congo River Basin. It is a huge beast, as big as an elephant that dwells in Lake Tele."

"Eyewitness accounts are the most unreliable evidence there is. Astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson said its warped evidence to the Psychologist and the lowest evidence to the Physicist."

"Is he one of your profits of science? Mr. Tyson?"

"Doctor Tyson," Dr. Mueller replied. "I need more than what someone thought they saw to convince me to change my mind. An asteroid, six miles wide, a lot smaller than 2120 Titus slammed into the Earth 65-70 million years ago and wiped out the dinosaurs. Not a flood. And no, dinosaurs were not on any ark." Dr. Mueller explained. He was getting angry.

"You need faith," Yapchanyk said. He was trying to calm Dr. Mueller in his tone.

"By faith do you mean lobotomy?" Dr. Mueller asked. He was being sardonic and petulant. "Do you know anything about dinosaurs?"

"Do you? I thought your degrees were in astrophysics and computer science."

"I was working on a degree in psychology but never finished," Dr. Mueller replied. "But I know enough biology and have read about dinosaurs enough to have a firm grasp on the subject. Have you ever been to a museum that had dinosaur skeletons on display?"

"Have you ever been to the Ark Encounter in Kentucky?" Yapchanyk asked.

"You mean that 100 million dollar waste of tax payer's money? How they managed to get away with that I'll never know. And no, I've never been there."

"It's quite educational."

"Do they have displays with dinosaurs on the ark?"

"Yes, my favorite are the juvenile Tyrannosaurus rexes," Tom Yapchanyk replied. "They are very life like."

"I bet they are, since you claim people see dinosaurs all the time running around in the jungles of Africa. Why not go get some real ones and put them on display. Hell, I'd pay the price of admission to see a real T-Rex."

"That would be dangerous, don't you think?"

"Fuck, put a zoo next door, you could have your own Jurassic Park."

"I can see your becoming testy doctor. I don't want to get into a debate with you."

"Then don't tell me to have faith. Faith is for the lazy. I'm not lazy, I have two doctoral degrees. How many do you have?"

Yapchanyk replied, "I have a B.A. in biblical and theological studies from The **King's University at Dallas**.

"I bet they have a great program on paleontology," Dr. Mueller said. He was growing tired of the debate and wanted to get on with reading about the stars.

"Then you tell me something I don't know, tell me about dinosaurs."

Dr. Mueller was surprised by Yapchanyk's challenge and his interest perked up. He sat up in his chair with new energy to debate this religious nut bag. "Sure, what do you want to know?"

"Explain to me how dinosaurs came into existence." Yapchanyk asked.

"I'm not going into Darwinian natural selection. You can read that for yourself."

"No, I mean how do you get something from nothing?"

"Oh, well that's far more encompassing than how did the dinosaurs come into existence. That's how life was created."

"I suppose," Yapchanyk replied. "Let's skip back a bit further. Tell me how any of this came into existence," Yapchanyk asked raising his hands as he spoke.

"Wow, now you're getting into quantum physics. My expertise is in the physics of the very large---but I think I can answer your question."

"And please don't give me the 'Big Bang," theory of creation. That is too simple," Yapchanyk said.

"Fine, I'll go with my good old standby. I contend that matter has always existed. There was no need for creation or a creator. Can't make what's already there," Dr. Mueller replied.

"How do you know? You weren't there."

"How do you know dinosaurs were on the ark? You weren't there either," Dr. Mueller smugly replied.

Yapchanyk leaned back in his chair chewing on his next reply. He looked around the room and down at the bible in his hands. "It's all here, in scripture," Yapchanyk replied.

"The bible is not a text book," Dr. Mueller said. "It's definitely not a science text book. Probably not even a great historical text. At best it's one of the best works of fiction ever written."

"I'd die for my faith," Yapchanyk said flat, almost sadly.

Dr. Mueller was taken aback by Yapchanyk's comment. "Are you sure? If it came down to it, would you give up your life in exchange for your phony beliefs?"

"Phony?" Yapchanyk asked. "Why must you try so hard to mock me?"

Dr. Mueller shifted in his seat and reached under his desk. He pulled out the pistol he stole from the pod that Diller used to shoot himself.

"Where did you get that?" Yapchanyk asked.

"I took it from the drone. I didn't think Diller needed it anymore."

"Why did you lie?"

"Because I figured Humphry would take it from me," Dr. Mueller replied.

Yapchanyk looked at the pistol and noticed there was dry blood on the barrel. "You missed some of the blood."

"Yeah, I guess I did," Dr. Mueller replied as he pointed the gun at Yapchanyk.

"What are you planning to do with it? Test my faith?"

"No, I figure this ship can be ran with two, maybe three crew at most and that work bot. Right now we have five and you seem to be the most worthless crew member on the ship. Earth is probably going to be destroyed before the year is out and on a personal level, I find you very annoying and spend way too much of my time avoiding conversations like this. I don't have a company to report to, and I value my privacy."

Yapchanyk looked into the barrel of the gun. He then looked up to Dr. Mueller with his flat stare and rubbed his tongue over his front teeth. He didn't plan to die today, but he was willing to take whatever God intended for him. If today was his day to meet the Lord, then so be it. "Before you kill me, can I pray for you?" Yapchanyk asked.

Dr. Mueller paused--and nodded his head.

"I pray the Lord will forgive you for the sin you are about to commit. I pray for your soul, that it won't be cast into the bowels of hell and that the Lord will show mercy. In the name of the father..."

The shot rang out and Yapchanyk fell to the floor in a heap. A trickle of blood drained from his forehead and he was dead.

"There were no dinosaurs on the ark, you dumbass," Dr. Mueller said. He went back to reading about Alpha Centauri A and B.

# 

# Chapter 9

# Airlock

Commander Humphry heard the sound of the airlock alarm screaming across the room. It was worse than the fire alarm buzzers she remembered from school and for good reason. If the airlock were compromised, the crew could be dead in minutes. She got up and looked at the control panel in her room and tried to see what was wrong by looking at the camera view of the inside of the airlock. She couldn't see anything out of the ordinary from the angle of the camera on her screen. She punched a button and a different view popped up, nothing.

"Lange, what's going on?" Humphry yelled into her com link over the blistering noise.

"There's been a break into the airlock," Lange yelled over the deafening sound.

"Go to the airlock, I'll meet you there," Humphry replied looking for the silence command. She pounded on the keyboard until she found the prompt to turn off the buzzer and clicked it. The sound stopped but the yellow and red lights in her room and in the hall continued to flash over and over.

"Dr. Mueller, where are you?" Humphry called into her com link as she ran out of her room into the hall.

"I'm in the science lab," Dr. Mueller replied.

"Meet us at the airlock, ASAP!" Humphrey yelled.

Lange was the first crew to arrive at the airlock. Lights flashed and spun all around her but she didn't hear any indication that air was escaping from Plios 3. Humphry arrived next followed by Dr. Mueller who wasn't exerting himself much at all. From his demeanor, the others concluded he didn't seem concerned.

"Looks to me like a false alarm," Lange said. "I can't hear anything or feel anything. There is no pressure alarm going off."

Humphry stepped over to the kiosk and typed in her command prompt and password. She then proceeded to check for atmospheric changes on the ship. She saw none. "Then what would set off the alarm?" Humphry asked.

"Unauthorized access to the airlock---that would set it off," Lange replied.

"How can anyone gain access without authorization?"

"Someone who's an expert with computers," Lange replied. She looked at Dr. Mueller and back at the kiosk trying not to catch eye contact with Dr. Mueller.

"Did you do this Dr. Mueller?" Humphry asked. She was livid.

"The door won't open unless there is a ship docked on the other side, it's a safety precaution," Dr. Mueller replied.

"There is no indication the door has been opened," Lange said. Then she saw something she didn't notice before. The image inside the airlock on the kiosk had what looked like part of an arm at the bottom right. Maybe part of an elbow but that was it. There was something inside the airlock that didn't belong there. "Look at the monitor, the bottom right," Lange said pointing at the screen.

Humphry tapped on the kiosk screen and the camera moved to the right. She tapped again and it moved down revealing the body of Chief Religious Officer Tom Yapchanyk lying crumpled on the ground. "How did he get in there?" Lange asked.

"I think we all know the answer to that," Humphry replied. She gave Dr. Mueller and evil glare as she said it. "He's the only one here that could figure out how to get the door open."

Lange looked at Dr. Mueller looking for confirmation. He gave her none.

"There's nothing to worry about, the outside door won't open without a transport vehicle docked and connected to this ship. There are pins that have to fit in the ring to allow the doors open. It's a safety measure so a computer failure wouldn't allow all the air in Plios 3 vent into space by accident. And as far as I know, there isn't a ship docked."

Humphry snapped, "I'm not worried about the airlock, I want to know why you put him in there? Is he dead?"

Feeling cornered, Dr. Mueller stepped back and shook his head slow. He put Yapchanyk in the airlock to keep him from stinking up the ship, not to dispose of him. Although that would have been a bonus. "Why don't you go in there and find out for yourself," Dr. Mueller said pejoratively.

Humphry was now feeling like Dr. Mueller was on the edge. Like an animal trapped in a cage ready to attack. "Why don't you doctor?" Humphry asked.

"I put him in there, I already know he's dead," Dr. Mueller replied. He was cold, morose, and waiting for someone to push him over the edge.

"Why?" Lange asked. "What did he do to you?"

Dr. Mueller kept his eyes glued to Humphry's stare waiting for her to make an aggressive move. She stood still, trying not to provoke the man who was obviously unstable and probably the killer of two of her crew. "Diller," Humphry said. It was an epiphany. "You said he didn't have a gun, you lied to me!"

No reply, then Dr. Mueller reached behind his back and pulled out the pistol he stole from Diller and used on Yapchanyk. "I'll give you a choice I didn't give that religious heretic. You can get in the airlock with him, or I shoot you where you stand and put you in there."

"I'd suffocate."

"No, there's ventilation. You might starve or die of dehydration, but you wouldn't suffocate."

Humphry thought for a second. She knew there were emergency escape measures inside the airlock she could use to open the door. She could wait out Dr. Mueller and leave the airlock when she wanted. This was such an obvious way to get out she was surprised Dr. Mueller didn't think of it. Or did he? "Fine, I'll get inside," Humphry said. She didn't want to let on that she had one on the doctor.

Using a handheld tablet, Dr. Mueller unlocked the airlock door. It slid open with a humming sound and locked into place with a clank when the entrance was clear. "Get in," Dr. Mueller said.

"What about her?" Humphry asked. She didn't look at Lange but Dr. Mueller knew who she was talking about.

"No, just you."

Humphry took another glance at the pistol and stepped away from the kiosk and into the airlock. Yapchanyk was too fresh to smell. Although he had begun to decay, it would be a day or so before his odor was noticeable.

With a press of the touch screen, the airlock doors slowly inched inward. They hummed and buzzed until they closed with a metallic snap. A green light appeared next to the door and Dr. Mueller knew the airlock was secure. He looked over at Lange and said, "Go over to the kiosk and look at the screen."

Lange was now afraid of Dr. Mueller---and for good reason---so she did as he said as carefully as she could. She didn't want to do anything to upset him. She took the few steps towards the kiosk and stopped looking up at the screen. From her vantage point, she could see the back panel and part of the left side of the airlock. In the center stood Humphry who appeared to be looking around the room for something she lost. "What am I supposed to be looking at?" Lange asked.

Dr. Mueller tapped his tablet again and the far airlock door popped open sucking Humphry and Yapchanyk into space. This time with no sound.

Lange's eyes bugged out wide and she took a gasping breath. "You said the door wouldn't open!"

"I lied."

# Chapter 10

# Three days later

Isolation is where Dr. Mueller felt most content. He would spend long hours in his room hold up away from Lange and Hart and then binge on science programming on the television in the lounge area. Hart and Lange spent most of their time in the science module away from Dr. Mueller afraid of what he might do next.

Deeply involved in a program about the plague, Dr. Mueller didn't notice when Hart stepped into the lounge. She stood in front of the screen and brought him out of his television induced trance. "You have a message," Hart said.

Dr. Mueller turned down the program and replied, "From who?"

"Earth," Hart replied. As she turned to leave she added, "Check your email. I'm tired of the alerts flashing all the time."

Alerts didn't bother Dr. Mueller, he ignored them. But he hadn't checked his messages in days and was now curious what was new. He picked up his tablet and swiped his screen bringing up his message box. He found three unread messages, two from the manager of NASA and one from what looked like the President. The messages from NASA were dated two days ago and the one from the President today at 1300--- four hours ago. The messages from NASA were titled, 'Routine maintenance check,' and 'Urgent, for your eyes only.' The doctor clicked on the one marked 'Urgent' and a short message popped up on the screen. It read, 'We have seen the video of your interactions with Tom Yapchanyk and Commander Kate Humphry. We are deeply concerned for the safety of the remaining crew. We have yet to locate Maintenance Specialist/Security officer Jim Diller but are aware a drone has been launched from Plios 3 and has not returned. Please make contact with NASA control as soon as possible.' The message was signed Julia Thompson, NASA mission control.

'Interesting,' Dr. Mueller thought to himself. He wondered what the President of the United States wanted with him. He clicked on the link and a video popped up. The first thing to appear on the screen was the seal of the United States of America that slowly faded to black. Then the image of the President of the United States, James Mead. Because of the time delay of twelve minutes, a direct conversation was impossible.

The image of the President wasn't what Dr. Mueller expected to see. Mead looked tired, worn and unshaven. He was sitting behind a desk, but it didn't look like the Oval Office, it looked like something thrown together for the broadcast. The lighting was stark, the background was a plain white wall and off to one side was a light stand, obviously used to illuminate the scene.

Then the President spoke. "Dr. Mueller. We are well aware of what is going on your ship. As you know we have access to all the cameras on board and witnessed you murder Tom Yapchanyk, and Kate Humphry. We suspect you also murdered Jim Diller but have no direct evidence. We have the ability to take control of Plios 3 at any time, but we also realize that your mission must go on. It wouldn't do us any good to turn the ship around and bring you back with the asteroid heading towards Earth. The last calculation puts 2120 Titus within mid-range Earth orbit in twenty three days. There is thirty percent possibility the asteroid will hit the Earth, a ten percent chance it will skip off into space and sixty percent chance it will lock into orbit above the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Eastern Australia. Why there we don't know. We need you to complete your mission and find out if the signal from the asteroid is from an intelligent source.

Since we can't communicate directly, I ask you to send us a message with your agenda. Why did you murder two of your crew? And what happened to Diller? I have received messages from both Hart and Lange but they provide no answers just that you are unstable and they fear for their lives.

It is very important that you contact me, or NASA immediately. We want to be prepared no matter what the consequences are of your actions. As we sit now, our best guess is we're all going to die in a matter of weeks. I will anticipate your reply."

Then the screen went blank.

"Fuck you," Dr. Mueller said aloud and tossed the tablet on the couch beside him. "Nobody tells me what to do."

Then Dr. Mueller remembered the valve that was placed in his chest. If NASA could control the ship from Earth, then what would stop them from triggering the servo motor in the valve and cutting off the blood supply to his lungs? At first Dr. Mueller thought that only Humphry had the transmitter that could send the signal to the receiver buried in his chest. But who in their right mind would create only one way to trigger the valve? If NASA found him too much of a threat, he could be dead before he could act.

Maybe he would make a video after all, but a video of him cutting the receiver out of his chest and holding it up for everyone back at NASA to see. Yes, that would be let them know who was in charge he thought to himself. But how?

Then Dr. Mueller remembered the medical lab, or should he call it the medical closet located in the science pod. The room was small but packed with every medial supply NASA could think of sending on the trip. Everything from suture kits, to bandages, and oxygen supplies to catheters where jammed into the four by six by two foot area. No one on board was a medical doctor, and no one had any medical background, but they felt the need to include a Religious officer so no medical personnel were attached to the project.

As the doctor entered the science pod, he startled Hart and Lange who were both working on projects on the computer. Dr. Mueller seemed determined to find a way to cut the receiver out of his chest which by his best estimate, was less than an inch below his rib cage. After locating the medical supplies, he rifled through the bags and boxes full of supplies looking for whatever he could use to perform self-surgery.

He knew he needed to numb the area so he looked for anything that said analgesic. He found what he was looking for in a Lidocaine prefilled syringe, 5ml dose. He pulled out the package containing the syringe and looked for anything he could use to cut into his chest. He located a ten pack of No. 10 Scalpel's and tossed them next to the Lidocaine. Then he found a bag full of four by four gauze, several boxes of sterile gloves, some alcohol swabs and rolls of surgical tape to add to his collection. As he was rummaging through the drawers of supplies, he found something that looked like tweezers, on the bag is said, 'Pickup Forceps'. He added that to his stash along with a bottle of sterile water.

"What are you doing?" Hart asked.

"I need your help," Dr. Mueller replied. He motioned for the women to come close.

"What are you doing with those knives?" Lange asked.

"I need to perform surgery---on myself. I need for you to help."

"You can't do that, it's dangerous," Lange replied.

"I'm just going to cut out the receiver, should be pretty simple. All I need is for one of you two hand me what I need when I need it."

"And the other?"

"Record it," Dr. Mueller replied.

"Record it with what?" Lange asked.

"Use your tablet, it has a camera function."

"So you want me to hold the camera?" Lange asked.

"Yes, you can hold the camera," Dr. Mueller replied. He took a seat and sorted out his supplies in the order he thought he'd need them. "Do you think I'll need stitches? Or will the tape hold?"

"Depends on how big of a hole you plan to make," Hart replied. "How big is the receiver?"

Dr. Mueller looked down at his chest and felt around for anything out of the ordinary. He couldn't feel anything but his ribs. "I'll cut the same size as the scar," Dr. Mueller replied. He reached into his pile of supplies and pulled out some alcohol swabs and tore open the package. Looking down at his chest, he took a swab and pressed it against the scar. The old incision instantly burned as the alcohol seeped inside the wound. "Fuck!" the doctor barked and pulled the swab away.

"You think that hurts?" Hart asked. "Wait till you cut that open."

Now more determined than ever, Dr. Mueller picked tore open the package of scalpels and pulled a single knife out.

"You might want to put on gloves first," Hart said. She was being sardonic.

"Are you recording this?" Dr. Mueller snapped at Lange.

Lange ran across the room and picked up her tablet. She returned and framed Dr. Mueller on the viewing screen. With a press of the red icon, the tablet began to record. "Go ahead," Lange said looking intently at the monitor.

Frustrated, Dr. Mueller pulled the package of sterile gloves apart and proceeded to don them like he was putting on gardening gloves. Nobody wanted to be screamed at so neither woman told him he was putting them on wrong. Although neither woman worked in healthcare, they both knew there was a procedure for donning sterile gloves. They had both seen enough plastic surgery documentaries to be familiar with the procedure.

With the gloves on, the doctor again picked up the scalpel and looked up at the recording device. Seeing that Lange was intently watching the monitor, he placed the tip of the scalpel on his chest on the left side of the old surgical incision. He took a deep breath and slid the scalpel across his skin, cutting the old stitches as he pulled. "Holy fuck!" Dr. Mueller yelled.

"Are you alright?" Hart asked. "You're bleeding something awful."

"Hand me the tweezers," Dr. Mueller snapped.

Hart found the pickup forceps and handed them to Dr. Mueller. The doctor fumbled with the forceps and dug into the wound searching for something to grab onto. He felt nothing. His first reaction was to use the scalpel and dig deeper, then he yelled to Hart. "You try!"

"I'm not touching that!" Hart barked back.

Blood now drained down the doctor's chest, over his lap and onto the floor where it pooled.

"Put a dressing on that before you bleed to death!" Hart yelled.

Lange kept her cool and kept the doctor in frame.

Pissed, Dr. Mueller jabbed the scalpel back into the wound and dug deep. It was then he felt something hard stop the blade. It could have been bone but at this point he didn't care. He shoved the forceps in the same hole and tried to snag whatever it was the scalpel hit. He managed to get something firm between the tips and pulled. Whatever it was he had grasped with the tool slipped out when he pulled back.

Taking a deep breath, he plunged the forceps back into the wound and pinched the object again. This time he used both hands to force the ends together and pulled slower. And this time something gave from the inside and slowly emerged from inside his chest cavity like a snake holding on for dear life. What he discovered was a small metallic object, about the size and shape of a dime with a red and a black wire running back into his chest.

"Pick up the knife," Dr. Mueller said. His hands were both occupied grasping onto the metal object with the forceps.

Hart leaned over and picked up the scalpel. This was her best opportunity to end her problems and cut Dr. Mueller's throat when he wasn't expecting it. He wasn't thinking straight, and didn't think for a second that the woman with the blade would do him any harm. And she didn't as she cut the wires allowing the doctor to pull the receiver out of his chest. He held it up and looked at it and set the receiver down on the counter. From the table he snagged some gauze and pressed it against his wound. The material stemmed the flow of blood as it turned from white to red.

"Grab the stitches," Dr. Mueller said. He was still in a manic state.

Hart dug around the pile of medical supplies looking for a package that said, 'stitches,' on the outside. "I don't see them," Hart replied.

"It's the one with the hooked shaped needles and thread, right there," Dr. Mueller snapped back, gesturing toward the pile of supplies.

Hart pushed around the plastic bags and plastic containers until she found a package labeled, 'Suture kit.' "I found it," Hart replied and handed the package to the doctor.

"My hands are full you stupid cunt, you do it!" Dr. Mueller barked.

Hart stood still for a moment and tossed the package back on the table. Nobody was going to disrespect her. It was then she suddenly realized that the doctor couldn't harm her or Lange with his hands holding gauze to a surgical wound he created. Hart leaned to the right, and then to the left looking to see where Dr. Mueller was carrying his pistol.

"It's locked in my room," Dr. Mueller said with a smile. Even through the pain, he was able to find joy in the moment. "You think I'd leave myself compromised?"

Hart looked back at the medical supplies eyeing the bag of scalpels. She looked back at Dr. Mueller when she noticed him move his arm and raise his hand with a scalpel pointing at her.

"I'm done with you, you can go now," Dr. Mueller said. "I guess I can handle this myself."

# Chapter 11

# 2120 Titus

It was the last day of the journey for Plios 3 to the renegade asteroid named 2120 Titus. The ship had been slowing since the mid-point of the voyage and was entering a low orbit to survey the mysterious object. The density and make-up of the asteroid was not well known so its gravity had to be an estimated. That allowed the spacecraft to find the right speed and distance from 2120 Titus and maintain a stable orbit. All the calculations were made on board the ship as it would have been too far away for NASA to crunch the numbers in real time.

The origin of the signals NASA and Plios 3 had been tracking were now pin pointed to the asteroid and there was no longer any doubt where they were coming from. Nothing about the signals changed, it was the same number sequence repeated over and over every 3.14 seconds. There was a consensus of the scientists at NASA that the signal would change once Plios 3 was nearing the asteroid, but no, they were wrong.

2120 Titus didn't look very big on the view screen so Dr. Mueller increased the magnification but still wasn't satisfied by what a seventeen mile wide asteroid looked like up close. But then he was still over fifty miles above the surface and anything from fifty miles away looks small. And then he saw it, the dark spot on the asteroid that looked like a hole. He remembered the dark round spot from the photographs he was shown back on Earth. He was asked if he thought maybe they were impact crater sites and he told them no. He felt this dark area was more than a crater, an actual hole in the asteroid. "Look at that," Dr. Mueller said aloud pointing to the spot on the screen. You see that?"

Hart and Lange both leaned in close and took a look at the spot on the asteroid. "I see a dark spot, like a fungus on a potato," Hart replied.

"I don't see anything special either," Lange replied.

"Fuck, it's right there, can't you see it?" Dr. Mueller asked. He was shocked that nobody but him could see the hole.

"Looks like a crater to me," Hart said.

"Me too," Lange agreed.

"What are you? Fucking blind?" Dr. Mueller asked rhetorically.

Then the power went off.

"What just happened?" Hart asked.

"I have no idea," Lange replied.

"They shut us off, those fucking pricks," Dr. Mueller snapped.

"Who shut us off?" Hart asked.

"NASA, who else, Martians?" Dr. Mueller replied sardonically.

Then the emergency power came on with half the lights leaving the inside of Plios 3 a lot darker than before.

"What's going on?" Hart asked. "This is freaking me out."

A green light blinked on the display panel with the word, 'Incoming message,' flashing in white lettering.

"I'm not sure, but I think we're about to find out," Dr. Mueller said. He pressed on the word 'Incoming message,' and waited. On the screen popped a video. The face that greeted them was the face of Julia Thompson, NASA mission control.

"Good evening Dr. Mueller, Jessica, Cara. I'm Julia Thompson from NASA mission control. I think I've met all of you at some time along this journey---I hope you are doing well," Thompson said. She seemed as fake as a three dollar bill. "I have some news for you concerning the mission and I'm sorry to say it's not the kind of news you were hoping to hear.

We have determined there is a seventy percent chance that 2120 Titus will enter the Earth's orbit off the coast of Australia. If it doesn't, it will harmlessly bounce off our atmosphere into deep space and leave the solar system. The problem we foresee is an intelligent force orbiting Earth could possibly be just as much a threat to the Earth as the asteroid hitting the Earth. We don't know what is behind the signal, but the trajectory of the asteroid is---in our opinion, too textbook to be a random event. We think the asteroid is being guided by an extraterrestrial intelligence and we are not prepared to deal with that now. If they turn out aggressive, it may be the end of us all."

"I can see that," Dr. Mueller interjected.

"It is because of the threat of an unknown alien contact that we have decided instead to use Plios 3 to push 2120 Titus out of its current orbit and away from Earth. If we act now, we could possibly move the asteroid two thousand kilometers away from the Earth at the point it reaches us. The problem for you---is that Plios 3 may not survive long term contact with the 2120 Titus. The bow of your ship wasn't designed to take the strain and pressure and most likely there will be a catastrophic hull break venting all your atmosphere into space.

It is because of the threat to the crew of Plios 3 that we have taken over control of your ship. We are in the process of turning off all of your life supports so that you won't---won't suffer when the times comes."

"They think they're doing us a favor?" Hart asked. She was numb and past being in shock. "What is the difference between freezing us and suffocating us now instead of then?"

"We are truly sorry for what we have to do. The fate of the entire planet Earth could ride on whether or not we can successfully move 2120 Titus out of the way in time. If we succeed, all of you will go down in history as the heroes of Plios 3. Your images will be engraved in stone and you will be taught in history books.

Once again, thank you for your service, and we offer our deepest thoughts and prayers. Your families have been contacted, and arrangements have been made. Thank you."

The screen went blank.

# Chapter 12

# 2120 Titus

"So that's it, we're just going to die?" Hart asked.

"It was sort of a one way mission if you think about it. What were our chances of actually saving the Earth?" Lange asked.

"I never thought for a second we'd be able to save anyone," Dr. Mueller replied. "This was always a recognizance mission to me. And probably the most important discovery of the century."

"What good will it do if nobody remembers us?" Hart asked.

"I take it you don't have much confidence in NASA's 'push the asteroid' plan?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"I'm the Science officer, I know all about space ships and asteroids and they're nuts if they think we can move that bitch without ripping this ship apart. They are using us as a last ditch effort."

"I think they admitted as much," Dr. Mueller replied.

"I don't know about you, but I don't like the idea of being a science experiment."

"What else can we do?" Lange asked.

Dr. Mueller leaned over to check if the computer terminal was still working. He saw a green square at the top right of the screen which led him to feel confident the whole ship wasn't disabled. He punched a few keys and a prompt came up on the screen. It read, 'Safe Mode."

"Better than nothing," Dr. Mueller stated and pressed the enter button. The screen went blank for a second and then a simple command array displayed on the screen. But there was nothing that would allow them to turn the power back on.

"What will it let you do?" Lange asked. She was deeply concerned and feared for her life more than anyone else.

"I can access data files for the ship, check the status of the life support, which reads 'disabled', get basic readouts for fuel, temperature, and a few other minor things," Dr. Mueller replied.

"You're a computer expert, can't you override the system and turn the power back on?" Lange asked.

"I have to have a way into the system. And this is not a valid entry point."

"How about the main computers by our crew quarters?"

"It's not like I can take a crowbar and pry my way inside the system, there has to be a terminal that will allow me to read the code, and to make changes. This prompt is so basic that it hardly qualifies as a terminal."

"Can't you at least check?" Lange asked. She was becoming manic.

"I think we're going about this all the wrong way."

"What do you mean?"

"I think we should take out the last drone and explore the asteroid. That's why we are here, right?"

"What good will that do? Who will you report your findings too? Earth? Looks to me like they shut off communications. And we are running out of time. How long will it be before we freeze to death?" Lange asked in a panic.

"We're not going back, you knew this was a one way trip before you signed up."

"No, they told us there was a good chance that after we surveyed 2120 Titus we could turn around and come back."

"Nobody told me that," Dr. Mueller replied.

"Me neither," Hart agreed.

"So fucking great, you want to run off and look at that piece of shit rock while we stay back here and suffocate? Or freeze?"

"It would take a week for the temperature to drop to below freezing, and there's enough liquid oxygen to run this ship for a decade."

Lange buried her face in her palm and began to sob. She knew there was a chance she'd not survive the journey, but now it was all too clear her days were numbered. "I don't want to die on this Godforsaken shithole."

"I would say I'm sorry but I'm not. You signed up for the trip, you knew the risks," Dr. Mueller replied. "The drone has room for two, do either one of you want to go with me?"

Both Hart and Lange looked at the asteroid on the monitor. It looked like a cold dead world. They both loved the space program, and they lived the life of astronauts, but 2120 Titus looked uninviting. "Not me," Hart replied.

"Me either," Lange added.

"That's fine, I can run the drone by myself," Dr. Mueller replied. "I'll need to calculate when to jettison from Plios 3 so I can rendezvous with the entrance point into the asteroid."

"What entrance point? There is no hole in that fucking rock," Hart said. "Give it up, that is a rock in space, that's all."

"What do you care?" Dr. Mueller asked. "You can watch me from the monitor. I don't know if I'll be able to communicate with you since the power is mostly out here. But I'll try."

Hart looked at Dr. Mueller and sighed. She didn't want him to leave but had no reason or way to make him stay. She thought the trip to the asteroid was a total waste of time, but then with time running out, why did it matter? Then a question crossed her mind. "Do you remember that day when I walked in on you in the shower?"

"Yes," Dr. Mueller replied. "This is an odd time for an apology. You could have said something months ago."

"I wasn't going to apologize," Hart replied. "I was wondering if you'd take me up on my offer, you know, since we're going to die and all."

Dr. Mueller chuckled. "For a second there I thought you were serious."

Hart unzipped her shirt and slid it down to her waist. She stood wearing nothing on top but her bra. "I am serious," Hart replied.

Time stood still for a moment as Dr. Mueller took this in. In what crazed mental state would a woman ask to get laid when she knew her death was imminent. "I'm sorry, but no," Dr. Mueller replied.

"You won't grant a dying woman a last wish?"

"I don't want to offend you, but my answer is still no."

Hart unzipped her pants and let them fall to the floor. She kicked off her shoes and stepped out of the crumpled clothes on the ground. Next came her socks, then her bra.

"Please---stop," Dr. Mueller said. "You're embarrassing yourself. I'm going now."

"You fucking queer!" Hart yelled.

"Yes, you're right, I'm a queer," Dr. Mueller replied as he walked away. He didn't look back as he stepped into the hallway. From there he entered the zero gravity of the bow. As he flew weightless, he wondered if Earth had turned off the anti-gravity of Plios 3. Without the rotation of pods two through four, the crew would have become weightless. But then it would have taken maybe a day or so before the rotation slowed enough to feel the effects. Inertia alone may have been enough to keep the rotation going until friction slowed it down.

Drone two set attached to its moorings in a bottom compartment of the bow of the ship next to the empty space once occupied by its clone. Dr. Mueller assumed that the power to the drones wouldn't be effected by the loss of power to Plios 3 and he was right, he was able to use his com link to energize the drone and unlock the canopy. From inside, he checked the dash and familiarized himself with the controls. He had run many simulations over the last few months in the science lab and had become very proficient piloting the craft.

Before opening the bay doors he used the onboard computer to calculate the right time to leave the mothership and head down to the asteroid. Since 2120 Titus was rotating, the drone had to match up with its rotation in order to save fuel and not back pedal to where he intended to go. And that location was the hole in 2120 Titus.

With the destination locked in the computer, the drone read that it would take forty five minutes before the asteroid was in position. If he spent a little fuel, he could get there in fifteen, but he wasn't willing to waste a precious drop of the liquid fuel stored in the tanks behind and underneath him. Forty five minutes it would be. Until then, he could sit back, try to relax and think about what it would have been like to screw Chief Science Officer Jessica Hart.

# Chapter 13

# Noah

The time had come to launch the drone from Plios 3 into space. With no fanfare, the outlet door opened from the mothership and the drone slid out effortlessly gliding without power. The drone automatically fired its engines and the liquid fuel rockets shot the drone towards the preset target at three thousand kilometers an hour; the target---a hole in 2120 Titus. From his vantage point, the asteroid grew huge, filling his entire field of view. And for a moment panic rushed through Dr. Mueller's body feeling he and the drone would crash into the asteroid at any moment. But on cue, the sub rockets fired and adjusted the trajectory of the drone across 2120 Titus instead of into it.

The trip to what Dr. Mueller felt was an entrance into the asteroid was less than twenty minutes away so the drone cut power and allowed the single passenger ship to glide unaided. Even without the rockets, the drone would continue on its path independently and not lose power until the drone was acted upon with another smaller rocket engine. It was Newton's First Law of Motion---That an object will remain at rest or move at a constant speed in a straight line unless it is acted on by an unbalanced force.

On his console, he had the image of Plios 3 as it slipped further and further away. In his view out the front window, he saw the asteroid rush underneath him as he sped across the uneven, crater laden and rocky surface. Maybe he was wrong and this was just a regular asteroid. Maybe an alien craft had landed on 2120 Titus thousands of years ago and was too small to detect from Earth. Maybe this was all a wild goose chase.

Then he felt the drone slowing and the asteroid below became less of a blur. On his monitor he read the distance to his destination. 500 kilometers, then 300 kilometers, then 100 kilometers and finally he saw the dark spot for himself and what he saw amazed and shocked him. It was a hole, not a crater that led deep inside the asteroid.

At this point he was able to take over control of the drone and turned off the autopilot function. He used retro rockets to slow his approach and enter the space where the hole was located. Using radar, he was able to determine the hole was over a kilometer wide and a bit longer creating a ragged egg shape.

For a while he hovered over the entrance, keeping up a synecious orbit with the asteroid below. He tried to scan what lie inside the asteroid with his radar and came up with nothing. From his viewpoint, the asteroid looked hollow, like an eggshell. He noticed a few blotches on the screen that didn't mean much to him, but for the most part, he was looking at an artificial asteroid, or a ship of some kind.

Checking his oxygen, he saw that he had enough to last seventy two hours. He wasn't sure if the read out was meant for two people or one, but he figured his time was short anyway and seventy two hours would probably suffice. Now that he had found the hole he had seen on the photographs, he realized if his trip was going to be worth anything, he'd need to explore the chasm and find out what lie inside the asteroid. So he pitched the drone down aligning it with the entrance and found the light array mounted in the bow of the drone. He had the ability to focus high beams of light from the drone to any space around him. The sensation reminded him of hunting coons back home at night using the lights from his pick-up truck.

It was now or never Dr. Mueller thought to himself and applied power to the engines flying the drone through the opening of the outer shell, into the heart of the asteroid. His motion and proximity sensors read nothing ahead, but he proceeded with caution. The inside of 2120 Titus was pitch black, and the minimal lights he was using did nothing to illuminate his surroundings. So he voice commanded the drone to use its higher intensity bow light and half power lateral lights. The additional lights shown nothing more than blackness.

For the next ten minutes Dr. Mueller continued to venture deeper inside the asteroid. The only lights he could see were those from his dashboard computers and the glow of the light emanating from the bow of his drone. "This is fucking boring," he said out loud.

"Why don't you put on some music?" a familiar voice asked. It was the voice of Tom Yapchanyk, the Chief Religious Officer who he shot and sent out into deep space. Only Yapchanyk wasn't dead and to Dr. Mueller's horror, sitting next to him in the drone.

"Holy fucking God almighty!" Dr. Mueller screamed as he looked at the man sitting to his right. "How did you get in here?"

"The same way you did," Yapchanyk replied looking the same as he did before he was murdered.

"No, you're dead, I shot you and sent you into space with that horrible woman."

"Yes, that's correct, you did shoot me. And left my body in space to float for eternity."

"Yeah, so how the fuck did you get in here? And how are you still alive?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"You will find out in good time doctor," Yapchanyk replied.

"You don't look like you've been shot---or been in space. You look like you did when you were trying to sell me all that religious bullshit."

"Slow down, you are coming to your destination," Yapchanyk stated.

"What destination?"

"You'll see."

Dr. Mueller fired the forward retro rockets and slowed the drone to a crawl. It was then he saw what Yapchanyk was referring to. Before him, in the faintness of the light, he saw what looked like row upon row of shelves. Only these shelves were massive and went on for as far as the light would illuminate. The closer to the shelves they moved, the more in focus they became, and Dr. Mueller saw objects on the shelves, like kids toys stacked side by side, or books all in a row. Only these toys were the sizes of houses and looked like animals. Ancient, extinct animals.

As the drone drew closer, Dr. Mueller could see the distinct outline of dinosaurs, in profile, standing side by side along the shelves for as far as he could see. He saw four legged dinosaurs, two legged dinosaurs, huge house sized dinosaurs and small car sized dinosaurs. They didn't move, they were frozen in place like objects on display in an icy zoo. Dr. Mueller asked the computer to increase the light and the drone complied. It sent double the amount of light to the far wall and now Dr. Mueller could see what looked like frost covering all the animals. He could see the twinkling of light reflecting off what looked like flash frozen dinosaurs.

Then it hit him, this was no asteroid, it was a transport ship. A ship designed and used to either transport dinosaurs from the Earth to somewhere else in the universe, or to deliver them to the Earth from a faraway civilization. "Why?" was all the doctor could ask.

"It's an ark," was all Yapchanyk replied.

"What do you mean it's an ark?"

"Do you remember when you asked me if there were dinosaurs on the ark? What was my answer?"

"Are you saying these dinosaurs are being transported to Earth?"

"No, the exact opposite, they were harvested from Earth and were on a journey when an asteroid collided with the ship. All the atmosphere was sucked out of the ark and the animals quickly froze. They have been here ever since," Yapchanyk replied.

This ship has been in the asteroid belt for millions of years?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"You know my answer to that question. But I will say it has been here a very long time."

Dr. Mueller tried to make out what kinds of dinosaurs he was looking at. The drone was about one hundred yards away from the inner wall of the ship, close enough to make out the features of most of the dinosaurs he could see. "Is that...I don't recognize any of them."

"They look different in person, most of the art you have seen is wrong. A good guess, but wrong. But they're dinosaurs, I can assure you that."

"So why is the ship moving towards Earth?" Dr. Mueller asked. He looked at Yapchanyk and knew he was having some sort of psychological episode that he couldn't describe. Was he emanating from his subconscious? Was he a delusion? Was he a result of a physiological malfunction of his brain or blood chemistry? Many things could trigger visions of dead people, but it was hard to pin it down when you were in the middle of one. The fact he was able to recognize what was happening made him feel better, but what about the dinosaurs on the wall?

"The ship came back online," Yapchanyk replied, "A signal from Earth triggered the mechanism that controlled the ship and told it to seek its source," Yapchanyk replied.

"You're not saying that code..."

"No, not at all. That was pure coincidence. The signal came from one of the transport vehicles used to carry the dinosaurs to the ship. At one time this ship was docked in near Earth orbit as the dinosaurs were harvested and transported up here. When this ship was filled to capacity, it was designed to move out to the edge of the solar system where the animals would be then changed into pure energy and transported across space to a different world altogether.

"How do you know all this?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"I was created here and sent to aid in the ships arrival back to Earth. I am part the man you knew, and part of what this ark is, or was. We used your friend as a base so we could communicate with you and harvested his memories so we would appear---less foreign."

"Friend? That's a stretch. Are you a hologram? Or a robot?"

"No doctor, I can't explain to you what I am. But trust me, I am real."

Absolutely lost, Dr. Mueller took a moment to think about what this ghost alien was telling him. The story sounded farfetched at best but in a way made sense. How else could the asteroid's behavior be explained? Of course it was a transport ship. Of course it had been hiding in the asteroid belt for a hundred million years. No wonder it looked like an asteroid. All the pieces were falling into place now. Or were they? "You said there was a transport ship that sent out a signal. What ship are you talking about?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"It was buried a long time ago, in the flood. The ship recently came online and sent out a homing signal that was picked up by this ship," Yapchanyk replied.

"What was the transport ship doing on Earth?"

"It was lost in a great storm. As well as others."

"So you're telling me there are alien craft buried underground on Earth right now?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"Yes, but they are in poor condition. The ship that sent the message is not more than pieces now. The transmitter still works, but that it about it."

"And what triggered it to start sending signals now?"

"Could be many things. Earthquake, magnetic storm, change in climate, I can't tell you," Yapchanyk replied.

"Where is it?"

"I don't know the exact location. And it doesn't matter anyway. In a few months this ship will enter Earth's orbit again."

"Then what?" Dr. Mueller asked.

Yapchanyk looked at the dash and noticed a blinking orange light. Dr. Mueller took notice of Yapchanyk's glance and looked at the message blinking before him. The message read, 'Fatal error code 000xygn.snr."

"Fuck, what does that mean?" Dr. Mueller asked.

"You're the computer expert doctor. But I believe there is an error in your oxygen delivery system," Yapchanyk replied.

The abbreviation in the code made sense. Dr. Mueller wasn't familiar with the error but he was sure Yapchanyk was onto something. "So I guess my trip is about over." Dr. Mueller stated in flat tone.

"Think of it this way doctor. You lived much longer than the forty seven people you murdered in cold blood. I would think you'd be happy. It's all relative."

"I think the ironic thing about this is that if I would have stayed on Earth, I would have lived longer. Traveling here did nothing for me or for science. The ship would have eventually entered Earth's orbit. But that does beg the question, what will the ship do once it does arrive?"

"The ship will do as programmed, it will harvest the dominate life on the planet, and send it back home," Yapchanyk replied.

"But it's full."

"The ship doesn't care. It's programmed to harvest and transport. It will continue in its mission until it runs out of power or something stops it. And the only thing I know that will stop it is an asteroid."

"Tell me this though, in your bible the ark was created to save people from a mythical flood. If this really is the ark, where is Noah? Where are the people God intended to save?"

"They have been sent to our home," Yapchanyk replied. "Until the time is right to bring them back. A time when sin has been wiped from the face of the Earth."

"Why would an alien civilization give a fuck about human sin?"

"Why would your human culture allow itself to be destroyed?"

"We're not destroying the Earth, you are!" Dr. Mueller barked back.

"No, you and your kind destroyed the Earth long ago. Our culture will reset yours back to the way it used to be. Before you allowed sin into your lives," Yapchanyk said.

"So what about me? How do I fit into your utopian culture? Will I be reborn?"

"That is up to your new master, I have no control over his decisions."

"My new master?" Dr. Mueller asked. "You mean the Devil?"

"It's been a pleasure speaking with you doctor. I hope I have answered your questions to the best of my ability. Your oxygen supply system has stopped working and you will soon be dead. I hope you were satisfied with the findings of your experiment, and I wish you safe passage into your next journey."

The doctor's vision began to blur as the carbon monoxide overtook his system. He didn't see if Yapchanyk stayed with him until death as he became more disoriented as the neared his end. After two minutes he was unconscious, and after six minutes he was dead. His body floating inside a drone, inside an asteroid called 2120 Titus.

The End

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