44º 18’ 09.64” North, 120º 07’ 41.11” West
Ochoco National Park, Oregon. The United States Sunday, 14 October 2012
06:00 GMT+1
It was a beautiful night, with clear skies and a gentle southerly breeze. Nothing but peace and quiet in every direction. The precise reason why Charles Bradway and other amateur astronomers came to Ochoco National Park to observe the stars. Famous among American astronomers, the park hosted the Oregon Star Party each year where hundreds of people gathered together to gaze at the firmament.
Bradway was a science teacher at Bend Senior High School in Bend, Oregon and had loved astronomy ever since he was a teenager. He took his hobby extremely seriously and had spent a considerable amount of money on his equipment. Bradway was also closely involved in the online community of astronomers and had even succeeded in being accepted by the Friends of NASA Astronomical Society. The FNAS, as it was known by its members, was a group of novices and professionals who were authorised to contact NASA if they believed they had made a new discovery. Once they reported a new celestial body, a technician at the government agency analysed the data and material and, if it wasn’t rejected, the information was forwarded on to a NASA observatory that would verify the discovery. The Minor Planet Center coordinated this process and was responsible for cataloguing all discoveries.
So far, tonight had been perfect: dark skies and the ideal atmospheric conditions for observing the night sky. Bradway felt lucky. Every weekend, weather permitting, he packed up his equipment and drove sixty miles to his favourite observation spot in Ochoco. He had needed to wrap up well tonight; there was something of a nip in the air by this time of year, especially so far away from civilization. He thought longingly of warming himself by a campfire, but the light would have interfered with his star gazing. And the one reason he came all this way was to enjoy skies that were unaffected by light pollution.
He sipped hot coffee from a thermos flask and glanced over his equipment: an eight-foot telescope connected to a high-resolution camera and a small laptop computer. Next to it was a second, three-foot telescope. He normally used the smaller one to decide which area of space he wanted to observe before swapping to the large one. In his heart of hearts, Bradway longed to make a new discovery. He would happily settle for a minor asteroid, just something small that could be named after him. But in all the years he had been watching the stars he had never had any luck. He didn’t really mind. After all, he had met some great people through his hobby, men and women who were just as crazy as he was about the stars. And he had been fortunate enough to observe some truly spectacular sights.
By now he had established a set routine. Before leaving home, he would mark a grid on a star chart to determine the area he wanted to observe. Then, in the park, he would start by making an initial exploration with his small telescope to narrow down any points of interest, using the main telescope to study these areas in depth and take detailed photographs. The walls of his study were papered with photographs he had taken of comets, constellations, planets and other phenomena that caught his eye.
For that night he planned to take some shots of celestial bodies located on the edge of the solar system. Everyone knew that space was packed with countless uncatalogued asteroids and comets travelling through its vastness. This ‘dark’ region was a good area for hunting them down; astronomers who found something here had a decent chance of being the first to discover it. A computer programme linked his telescope to his camera; it would automatically start taking photographs if any visual anomalies were detected in his field of view. So even if he wasn’t watching directly, he could still observe and catalogue anything significant that passed in front of the telescope. He used the laptop to access an online astronomy database with contributions by thousands of similar volunteers. Whenever Bradway detected an object, he always ran his sighting through the database to see whether or not anyone else had reported it first.
He took a final gulp of his coffee and then strolled a few yards away from the camp to pee; he had been holding it in for a long time. Before he he could even unzip his flies, the computer started to beep. Something had been detected in his field of view. The camera immediately took several rounds of photographs, capturing the intruder. Bradway cursed and hurriedly relieved himself. Maybe this time it was actually something important and not just a satellite wasting his camera battery. He didn’t like to count the times he had excitedly photographed something he hoped would be of interest before realising that it was just a communications satellite. Once he had even photographed the ISS by mistake; his star gazing buddies had certainly got a lot of mileage out of that one.
Bradway finished and quickly jogged back to the table and his computer. A notification had appeared on the screen informing him that an object had been detected. Good, he said to himself. Whatever had activated the camera was on the edge of the solar system, ruling out man-made satellites. He started to check the images before analysing the data. His equipment had taken two dozen shots in quick succession. He quickly spotted what had caught the sensor’s attention: a quick flash. He could see a white dot of light that was followed by darkness. When he enlarged the image, there was unmistakably something there. An asteroid, perhaps? It was impossible to say with the equipment he had to hand, but things were looking good. Bradway eagerly opened the database of astronomical objects on his computer. He added the sighting data, space coordinates, orbit, time and place of observation and then waited a few seconds for a reply. No record appeared matching his information. Bradway started to feel nervous. So, it really could be a new object. Had he just been the one to discover it? He picked up his phone and rang George, a friend who coordinated activity between the FNAS and NASA. Bradway described his discovery, offering to email him the observation data and images so that it could be verified and NASA could determine exactly what it was. Ten minutes later, George rang him back to confirm that he had received the information and that his finding would be put on the verification waiting list by the Minor Planet Center. He should be able to report back in a day or two with information about what Bradway’s small asteroid actually was. After that, Bradway would be able to name it whatever he liked. For the time being it had been called 2012 UA.
37º 21’ 42” North, 5º 58’ 45” West
Virgen del Rocío Hospital, Seville Sunday,
14 October 2012
12:00 GMT+1
Two days had passed since the accident at the parade. Luis still felt dazed, a feeling that was heightened by his hazy memories about what had actually happened that day. All he knew was what his parents, brother and Eva had told him. They had taken turns keeping him company while he was under observation at Virgen del Rocío Hospital in Seville. Preston had come to visit him too, as soon as he was told that Luis had regained consciousness. From the descriptions his family had given him, he knew that after he had landed and passed out, Preston and his father had picked him up and carried him to an ambulance that had rushed to the drop zone. He had been raced to hospital where doctors had checked him over and put him under observation. Miraculously, he had no internal injuries, just the wound at the back of his neck that was currently covered with a dressing. Preston told him that they were still investigating the cause of the accident. An initial hypothesis was that hot air had suddenly and forcefully risen upwards to create dangerous turbulence and that the electrical components in his helmet had crashed at the same time. He had not been the only one affected.
Preston had been hit too, and the A400M had been required to make a tricky landing at Morón Air Base because its equipment had also malfunctioned.
The accident had caused a media storm, especially now that anyone and everyone could film videos on their mobile phones. Over the past three days, new videos had continuously appeared on the internet and spread like wildfire across social networks. The accident-stricken jump had even become a trending topic on Twitter. Intense debates raged about how it could have gone so wrong and what might have caused the exhibition almost to end in tragedy. Fortunately, the media’s focus on the dramatic turn of events soon began to ease off. Instead, it began to focus on the fact that, despite the drama in the skies, the two skydivers had managed to regain control and successfully end the display with nothing but one minor injury between them. In fact, the government spokesperson attempted to use Luis and Preston for political purposes, describing them as shining examples of the type of resolve and bravery that were needed for Spain to climb out of the economic crisis.
Several reporters had tried and failed to talk to Luis. One was more insistent than the rest, a certain Maria Luces, but his father acted with military decisiveness and sent them all packing without distinction. It was important to Luis’s recovery that he remain as calm as possible. Aside from the accident, the doctor had made it clear that Luis showed signs of having been under a great deal of strain lately. The fact that he had remained unconscious for virtually an entire day was symptomatic. According to the doctor, his state had been stress-induced. Perhaps his brain was simply exhausted from the pressure of playing a starring role in the parachute display and juggling a hectic lifestyle of university work and the Hermes Project. Despite this, the doctor reassured his parents that Luis would be discharged the following day, assuming his condition continued to improve. Luis was hugely relieved. He didn’t want to be stuck between those four white walls a second longer and the hospital food was enough to make anyone depressed. His father had been at his side during the day while his mother and Tristan had kept him company at night. Of all his friends, Eva had been the most supportive. According to his father, she had stayed at the hospital the entire time he was unconscious. When he came round, he instantly felt her clasping his hand in a way she had never held it before. He felt completely at peace, almost wishing that she would never let it go. Marta couldn’t have reacted more differently. She hadn’t visited him once. All she had done was send him a message saying that hospitals made her uncomfortable and she hoped he felt better soon.
Luis had tried to put the accident out of his head but his mind blurred together images from the jump and the dream or vision he had experienced before fainting. The hallucination, or whatever it was, was nothing like his nightmares. The only detail that linked them was the sensation that he was not himself, but rather some sort of metal being. Some of the features seemed reminiscent of his other dreams but to be honest, he simply couldn’t remember anything clearly enough. However, there was one thing he was sure about: he was afraid of telling anyone what he had seen. All things considered; they would surely think he had lost his mind. He certainly didn’t need that.
Besides, Luis was starting to think that perhaps the doctor was right. Maybe the nightmares were down to the stress of the Hermes Project and his frenetic way he had been living lately. Either way, he was determined to recover and get back in the saddle as soon as possible. He didn’t want to miss a single day at the EAC. Eva had promised to keep him up to date with everything at the Flight Interface Department, even though they were technically banned from discussing their work outside of the research facilities. But that wasn’t enough for him. He had to go home and pick up where he had left off with his classes and the project as soon as possible.
He was still lost in thought when there was a knock at the door. The doctor treating him, Dr Casas, entered the room.
“Good morning, Luis. How are you today?” He approached him holding a folder.
“Morning, Dr Casas. I feel fine. I think I’m ready to get back in action.” He sat up in bed with some effort.
“Well, hold your horses. I’ve just spoken to your parents in the corridor. You’re progressing well but we can’t forget that you’ve just been in a near-fatal accident.”
“It’s not that big a deal. Every time you go skydiving there’s the chance that something could go wrong. The important thing is that I was able to fix the problem and land safely,” Luis said, defensively.
“Well, that may be… We’ve got to take off the dressing and check your neck. The wound isn’t deep but it’s a very sensitive area. It’s better to be safe than sorry. Experience has taught me that any injuries to the back of the neck can be more complicated than they seem. Let’s take a look. Turn around, please.”
He approached Luis and carefully started to remove the dressing covering the back of his neck and head. Luis’s hair had been partly shaved so that it could be applied correctly. The doctor tugged gently twice and the dressing came free. He put it in a tray and then turned back to examine the wound.
“Well, it looks like it’s scarring properly and there are no signs of infection… You don’t have any neck pain when you turn or raise your head?” Dr Casas held his head and made slight movements.
“No, it doesn’t hurt. There’s just this burning feeling at the back because of the injury.”
“OK, another thing…. I know, I know, it’s like the inquisition round here. Do you know if the helmet you were wearing had any part, screw, component or similar that was directly touching your neck?”
“What? No, of course not… That’d be really dangerous. It could cause a serious injury if you made any sudden movements. The helmet I was using does have a hermetic seal but it’s at the base of the neck. Why?”
“Well, it’s really strange… And I find it hard to believe that it’s a coincidence…” Dr Casas remained thoughtful.
“What? What is it?” Luis interrupted him, visibly nervous and impatient.
“Relax… It’s just that the shape of the scar is really odd.”
“Odd?” Luis looked at him, bewildered.
“Yes, normally a surface injury caused by an explosion, or an accident like yours, would consist of several cuts… Or some type of open wound, if you see what I mean. But yours is different. It’s like a drawing.”
“A drawing?” Everything seemed more and more surreal to him.
“Yes, exactly. It’s a sort of elongated X with two small rhomboids on either side. The strangest thing is that the skin inside the rhomboids is intact. It’s as if you’ve been branded with something, but…” he said, tailing off as he examined Luis more closely.
“But what?” Luis started to get nervous.
“Hmmm… I just noticed something that escaped me the first time I treated you. It’s as if, instead of the wound being caused from the outside, it’s the other way around. Like whatever struck you came from inside your body.”
“Maybe it happened when the helmet broke,” Luis said, thinking out loud. “The sudden change in pressure inside the helmet meant that when the oxygen came shooting out it sucked on the skin.” He was trying to find meaning in that impossible wound.
“Perhaps… But there’s no way that shape was caused naturally. Nature loves entropy, chaos… That’s why I know that the shape of your scar is no mere coincidence.”
“So, what could it be?” Luis looked at him questioningly.
“Honestly? I haven’t got the faintest idea. Maybe there was something inside the helmet, hidden inside its protective layer, even just a diagram or a symbol in the part that exploded. Either way, we can’t check the helmet and what really matters is that the wound is healing up nicely. You’re going to be just fine,” Dr Casas shrugged, smiling.
“Well… I guess that’s the important thing, but—” he stopped.
“Yes?”
“I don’t know if it’s relevant, but… The truth is, over the past few weeks I’ve woken up with a kind of irritation, a stinging feeling, in the same place. At the back of my neck.” Luis wasn’t going to tell him about the dreams but he could at least clear one thing up.
“In the same place? Well, I think that probably is just a coincidence. Burning or stinging feelings are often caused by stress and anxiety. How do you sleep?” Dr Casas put his hand to his own chin.
“Normally well, but I’ve been woken up by some pretty disturbing nightmares over the past few weeks,” he ventured.
“Well, Luis, everything you’re telling me is highly symptomatic. If you want my advice, and this comes not just as your doctor but from someone who was once your age and hoped to achieve great things… You need to take things easier. You’re too young to be under so much pressure. You’re asking too much of yourself and your body is sending you messages that are telling you to take your foot off the pedal. It’s saying it doesn’t want to do everything all at the same time.”
“I guess you’re right. I’ll try to do what you say… But I’m warning you, it won’t be easy,” Luis admitted, making light of it.
“Well, other than the work of art on the back of your head I can’t see any other reason to keep you in here. Actually, we could have discharged you earlier but your parents made us agree to keep you in. It was the only way to make sure you’d rest. So, I should think that by this afternoon, as soon as all the paperwork is done, you’ll be on your way home.” He shared his most affable face.
Luis was delighted by the news. “At last! I mean, I don’t mean to be rude, but the food here is awful.” He made a face of disgust.
“Can you keep a secret?” Dr Casas looked at him, seriously.
“Yes, of course.”
“I can’t stand it either,” he started laughing and then left the room.
Luis could hear him talking to his parents in the corridor and telling them they could come and see him. His mother rushed into the room beaming, relieved that her son would finally be coming home. Luis was going to spend the first few days at his parents’ house so that they could keep an eye on him while he recovered. He was rather looking forward to it, he had to admit. Family time and home comforts were just what he needed after everything he had been through.
37º 10’ 03” North, 5º 36’ 20” West
Morón Air Base, Seville
The afternoon sun was at its height when Preston gathered his team together in the car park by their barracks. They were due to join the ‘Diablos de Hispania’ Squadron in the air and perform a series of flight manoeuvres, piloting Eurofighter Typhoons alongside the squadron commander and his captains.
Preston, Chapman, Curtis and Takeda had been training for the exercise since their second day in Spain by carefully studying the Eurofighter manual and all relevant military protocols. Each of the Americans had extensive flying experience, but every aeroplane was different. Moreover, under normal circumstances, a pilot needed an official certificate that authorised them to fly an aircraft and expired forty days after the last time they piloted the aeroplane. Fortunately, the air force didn’t mind turning a blind eye on this occasion. However, the Americans had certainly had to roll up their sleeves; they hadn’t been afforded any other special treatment and had been forced to study the Eurofighter in record time.
They had all got down to business. Curtis, now able to speak decent broken Spanish, was keen to compare the European aircraft with the F-22 Raptors and F-35 Lightnings he was used to. In turn, Chapman was looking forward to flying over Andalusia again; in his eyes, the manoeuvres were really just an excuse for some air tourism. Takeda was particularly excited about the exercise. For days now he had been itching to get his hands on the controls of the most modern fighter jet in Europe.
The four pilots climbed into a military jeep and drove off to meet Aguilera in one of the buildings used by his squadron. Chapman was at the wheel and Preston sat next to him, thoughtful. He had spent all morning in his allocated office running through his notes. More specifically, he had been reading through the data he had gathered so far on the electromagnetic catapult being developed by the Hermes Project at the EAC. After lunch, he had received a call from Luis, who was about to be discharged and would be back home that afternoon. Preston told him he was delighted to hear it and hoped he would make a full recovery as quickly as possible. Before hanging up, they arranged for Preston to visit Luis at his parents’ house the following day; both seemed anxious to talk about what had happened. The accident was never far from Preston’s thoughts. He was haunted by the doom-laden words Luis had mumbled before losing consciousness.
The vehicle drew to a halt and the pilots climbed out, walking through the hangar entrance to meet Aguilera inside. The commander was waiting with Captain David Aguilar and Captain Enrique Esteve. They all trooped into one of the planning rooms. The space was furnished with a long, central table surrounded by chairs and had a large screen at the far end.
“Afternoon, everyone. Ready to take a trip on one of our birds?” Aguilera showed them to their seats.
“You bet. We’ve been looking forward to joining you up in the skies again,” Chapman loved challenges.
“Good. Before we begin, we need to run through the flight plan. We’ve been authorised to join a NATO training exercise in the Gibraltar Strait. Our group mission is to patrol the no-fly zone.”
“How much territory will we have to cover, Commander Aguilera?” Curtis asked in his basic Spanish.
“All of southern Andalusia. There are twelve points along the route. Half of them are over land and the rest are along the coast.” Aguilera put up an image of the flight path on the screen.
“Got it,” Curtis paid more attention to the directions than to the words.
“Fine. If there aren’t any more questions, please go and get everything you’ll need for the mission.”
They headed to the changing rooms where they kitted up, putting on their flight gear and collecting their helmets. Once they were ready, they left the building and drove over to their aeroplanes. Only seven pilots were taking part in the exercise; the rest of the squadron on duty that afternoon were going to observe the exercise from one of the mission monitoring rooms. They would be flying single-seater Eurofighters today that were equipped with an extra fuel tank but no weapons.
Preston settled down into the cockpit seat of his Typhoon. It had been several days since he had last been at the controls of a plane and he had missed it. Chapman, Curtis and Takeda had at least taken to the skies on the day of the air show, whereas this would be his first time since they had arrived in Spain. He began to check the aeroplane’s systems with the help of the on-board computer. The other pilots were all doing the same.
Morón control tower authorised them to start taxiing towards the main runway for take-off. The seven Eurofighter Typhoon fighter jets, piloted by three Spaniards and four Americans, started to roll along the tarmac. Then, speeding down the runway, the pilots activated their afterburners. With a deafening roar, fiery plumes poured out of the aircrafts’ nozzles and they soared upwards to begin their flight across Andalusia. It was a joy to fly in such clear, sunny conditions and their route would offer them spectacular views over this beautiful region of Spain.
“Squadron Leader here. We’re going to stabilise at thirteen thousand feet. Cruising speed, five hundred miles an hour. We’re not in a rush, are we? Echelon formation. First point on route, the Sierra Nevada,” Aguilera's voice crackled over the radio.
“Copy,” they all replied.
“There’s not much snow at this time of year, but I think your men will enjoy the view, Jack,” Juan knew him very well.
“I’m sure we will. Lieutenants Takeda and Curtis in particular… It’ll be the first time they see it,” Preston looked at their cabins.
Takeda felt completely at home at the controls of the Eurofighter. Although it was far less advanced than the X-56, it handled well and instantly responded to his touch. The combat helmet he was wearing was also far more basic than his usual equipment, but it was still possible to fix targets by looking towards a mark. The flight was a little too routine for his liking so far; he hoped that they would be allowed to break formation and put the aircraft to the test later.
Anyway, Takeda certainly couldn’t complain, the view more than compensated for any mundaneness. They were currently flying over the north of Malaga province and could now see the green mountains of Ronda, an area famous for its unspoilt natural beauty. A motorway wound through the countryside below them. He smiled to himself, thinking that if anyone looked up just now, they would be completely taken aback by their fighter jet formation. Takeda could still remember when he first arrived in the United States as a child. He had been amazed every time he saw combat aircraft fly past his uncle and aunt’s house.
“Squadron Leader here. An air corridor has been reserved for us right over the Sierra Nevada. I’m sending the data to your computers. Night Eagle, Sandstorm, Dragon and Viper, permission to break formation. Black Wolf and Bull, stay with me.”
“Copy. Viper with Sandstorm, Dragon, you’re with me. Let’s take a closer look at these mountains,” Preston maneuvered to get away.
The Sierra Nevada rose up before them, towering over the Andalusian countryside like a vast fortress. The mountains were bright with colour, lush green slopes capped by brilliant white peaks. They could see Granada to their left, but the pilots weren’t authorised to fly over the city. However, the air corridor did permit the pilots to fly through the mountains at low altitude. Of all the Americans, Takeda was enjoying this part of the journey most of all. They divided into pairs and descended towards the Sierra Nevada.
“Kira, do you think you’d be able to catch me?” Preston gave a provocative smile.
Takeda never turned down a good chase. “Of course, sir. You bet.”
“Good. Let’s put these birds to the test and see what they’re capable of… Give me a five second head start.”
Preston used his afterburners to accelerate and sped away from Takeda’s Typhoon, disappearing among the Sierra Nevada slopes. Takeda waited five seconds and then raced after him. The two fighter jets roared at full speed over the heads of several groups of hikers who were picking their way along trails through the mountains. Preston swerved between the valleys and peaks, trying to dodge Takeda, but the young pilot quickly caught up with him and was impossible to shake off.
“You’ll have to do better than that if you want to escape me, sir,” Takeda quickly handled the controls of the fighter.
“Don’t speak too soon, kid,” Preston replied, pulling hard on his joystick.
His aircraft shot upwards above a snowy mountain peak, whirling around in a loop the loop. When he had finished, Preston had swapped places with Takeda and was now on the Japanese pilot’s tail.
“So, Lieutenant Takeda, anything to say?” Preston had him locked.
“No, sir. Good move… Now it’s my turn.” He bit his lip, anticipating his next move.
Takeda broke to the right and braked sharply, spinning his aircraft in a full circle. Preston was completely taken by surprise and overshot him; before he knew it, they had swapped positions again and Takeda was hot on Preston’s heels. A satisfied smile played on Takeda’s lips.
“These Typhoons aren’t bad at all. Great handling. I like them,” he had missed this kind of exercise.
“Yes, I see you’ve got the hang of yours pretty fast,” Preston nodded.
Aguilera interrupted. “Night Eagle, Dragon… If you’ve finished, return to formation and we’ll continue on our flight path.”
“OK. Sandstorm, Viper, do you copy?” Preston asked.
“Affirmative. We were just enjoying your little show. You’re crazy,” Chapman was certain that they were incorrigible.
Preston could imagine what he was thinking. “We were just putting the Typhoon to the test. I’d say it passed with flying colours.”
The four fighter jets left the mountains below and rejoined the formation led by Aguilera and his two wingmen. They headed on to the Almería coastline and its spectacular beaches before wheeling around to the south. The aeroplanes continued over the Mediterranean for sixty miles and then turned west towards Gibraltar to complete the rest of the flight programme scheduled by NATO. The journey was smooth and without incident. Halfway along the route they had to find a mothership for aerial refuelling over the Alborán Sea. This was a standard procedure that they had performed countless times; nevertheless, it was time-consuming because another combat group was also waiting to refuel. Half an hour later they had all filled their tanks and were on their way, ready to complete the mission with no further interruptions.
They landed at Morón Air Base, touching down and taxiing their planes towards the parking zone. Mechanics and technicians were waiting for them, ready to check that the fighter jets were still in perfect condition. Once they had climbed out of their cockpits and were back on the ground, Preston and the others got into the transport vehicle that was waiting for them. They headed back to the squadron building to join the rest of the team who had been watching them from the mission monitoring room. They were warmly greeted by a hail of congratulations and praise from the Spanish pilots; considering it was the first time they had flown the Eurofighter; it had been a thoroughly respectable performance. Lieutenant Takeda had been particularly impressive.
The next hour was spent reviewing the mission. They had to complete a report on the exercise and send it to NATO Command at Rota in Cadiz province. Obviously, they left out Preston and Takeda’s little game in the Sierra Nevada. They were fairly sure it hadn’t gone unnoticed, after all, they had been spotted by tourists and hikers, but they didn’t think the media would pick up on it. At the end of the day, these were just routine flight exercises and people were fairly used to seeing Eurofighters in the skies over this part of Andalusia.
Once all the paperwork had been finished, they returned to their barracks to shower and change. Tonight, a dinner had been planned in Seville with Aguilera and his captains. It would be their first-time off base since their welcome party; Curtis and Chapman were eagerly anticipating a fun night out. Takeda had said he would prefer to stay in his room to go over his notes on the day’s exercise but Preston ordered him to join them. It was important to take a break every now and again. Takeda was left no choice: an order was an order. They drove to Seville in two cars and enjoyed a lively night out in the city, meandering through its historic streets and making countless stops at tapas bars to eat and drink along the way. The merry band finally wound up in a flamenco bar where a group of musicians and dancer were in full flow. The pilots rounded the revelries off with several more drinks, except for Takeda who was the designated driver that night. They ate, drank and laughed exuberantly; it was an unforgettable evening. Takeda would certainly remember it for some time to come. As the only sober member of the group, he couldn’t help chuckling to himself as his superiors joked around, three sheets to the wind. When they finally returned to the base, they collapsed on their beds in happy exhaustion.
37º 23’ 18” North, 6º 02’ 41” West
Odén family home, outskirts of Seville
Monday, 15 October 2012
17:00 GMT+1
It was great to be home Luis thought to himself as he relaxed in an armchair at his parents’ house. The memory of those four white walls and revolting food was receding fast. A day had passed since he was discharged from hospital and he already felt better, his energy returning. His mother was thoroughly spoiling him, constantly checking he was alright and making sure that he lacked for nothing. It was like being a little kid again for a day; after all the stress that had built up in recent weeks, it was just what he needed.
Tristan and Luis had spent the morning playing videogames together, making the most of this rare opportunity. It had been a while since they had found the time. The brothers loved playing together as a team and completing games together. Unfortunately, their fun had been cut short sooner than Luis would have liked when his mother laid down the law and told him to rest. She didn’t want him getting stressed out by shooting at things on a screen. Switching off the console, they had headed outside where his father was cooking lunch on the barbecue and had helped lay the garden table, practically drooling at the smell of freshly cooked meat. They sat down and ate a convivial meal together as a family for the first time in ages, united by the tragedy that had almost torn them apart.
After their ample lunch, Luis settled down in the sitting room to watch some television. Before long, the doorbell rang and he heard his mother’s voice asking who it was over the intercom and then buzzing the visitor through the gate.
“Luis, smarten yourself up, it’s Lieutenant Colonel Preston. He’s here to visit you,” his mother came to the living room, looking upset.
“Oh yeah, that’s right… We spoke yesterday. He said he was going to come round today,” Luis put his hand to his forehead.
“And you’re telling me this now? You should have let us know,” Isabel shook her head.
“I’m sorry, Mamá. I completely forgot, what with being discharged and coming home and the rest of it…” He pouted in sadness.
“Yes, yes… You’re hopeless! Well, I’ll go and let your father know. I expect he’ll want to say hello too,” she said before disappearing along the corridor and climbing the staircase to the second floor.
Shortly afterwards, Luis heard someone knocking at the front door. He was about to stand up when his father appeared in the corridor and opened the door. Luis heard him greet Preston warmly. They knew each other from Preston’s last assignment to Spain and his father had always held the American in high esteem. It seemed that the accident had only served to strengthen their friendship. They chatted in the entrance for ten minutes while Luis remained in the sitting room watching the news. He would have stood up to greet Preston too, but guessed that his father wanted to discuss the accident with him alone first.
“Luis, Lieutenant Colonel Preston is here to see you. Your mother is making tea and coffee. Would you like anything?” Guillermo stared at him, stern.
“Some tea would be great,” Luis sensed that they would have a serious conversation when Jack left.
“Fine. I’ll leave you two to it. I expect you’ve got lots to talk about,” his father said before leaving the sitting room and closing the door behind him to give them some privacy.
Preston approached Luis, who stood up to shake his hand. “Hi Luis, how are you feeling today?”
“Hi. Much better thanks. It’s a real honour, you coming to see me… You didn’t have to.”
“It’s the least I could do after what happened.”
“Well, thanks… I appreciate it. Please, take a seat,” Luis said, gesturing towards the other armchair. “How are things? All OK?”
“I’ve been pretty busy with a couple of reports. Particularly the one about what happened at the exhibition. Other than that, everything’s fine… Yesterday my team took part in a NATO training exercise, piloting some Eurofighters. You’d have loved it. And last night we went out in Seville for some tourism and dinner. I woke up with one hell of a headache… It was fun. Perhaps too much fun,” Preston said with a rueful grin.
“I hope you haven’t had to do too much paperwork and stuff because of me.” Luis looked remorseful.
“You know how these things are. Bureaucrats always ask for a thousand reports whenever anything happens, especially if it’s in front of television cameras and a whole ton of people. But to tell you the truth, I can’t help thinking about the accident either…”
“Same here. But I guess these things happen. Has the investigation shed any light on it?”
“I can’t tell you anything concrete. The fact that the electronic devices in our equipment and the electronics on board the A400M failed right when we hit the turbulence perhaps suggests some sort of electromagnetic phenomenon.”
“Could it have been caused by a solar flare?” Luis had not stopped thinking about the matter.
“No, we already checked with NASA. They didn’t detect anything. At least, nothing that was powerful enough to cause any damage, especially so focused in one place. We were the only ones affected.”
“So, what’s the conclusion?”
“A series of coincidences. First, the impact of a really strong thermal current. That’s not particularly strange, bearing in mind the temperature in Seville and that so many aircraft had just flown through the area. So that, combined with a sudden failure of the electrical systems and a software error.” Preston recited from memory.
“Does anyone really believe that?” Luis snorted.
“Obviously neither you nor I believe it for a second. Or anyone who has the slightest idea about these things. But there was pressure to close the case fast. They didn’t want anything to detract from the positive effects of the event. As far as the bureaucrats see it, the fact it all turned out OK and the media aren’t covering the incident any more is all that matters. Everyone’s just accepted the official version.”
“I don’t suppose there’s much more we can do to find out what happened then, is there?”
“I’m afraid not. Although if I were you, I’d wait a while before doing any more jumps.” Preston gave him a puzzled look.
“It’ll be tough. But I guess you’re right. After what happened, I’m not sure my body’s really up to that sort of thing anyway. So, tell me… What was it like flying a Eurofighter? You said you flew one yesterday?” Luis looked at him with keen interest.
His mother briefly entered the room to serve them their tea, greeting Preston and leaving in the blink of an eye.
“It was fantastic. It’s a really versatile fighter jet. The F-22 is better for aerial combat, but I reckon the Eurofighter comes out on top for missions that require aerial superiority and ground attacks. And that’s without even mentioning the crazy price difference. The Typhoon is way, way cheaper. But don’t tell anyone I said that,” Preston said with a wink.
“I used the Eurofighter simulator a couple of times and got a really good feeling from it.”
“It’s a shame you don’t want to try flying a real one. I know you’d love it. And with your record and skills, I reckon you’d make it as a combat pilot much faster than normal,” Preston continued, tempting him.
Luis laughed. “Yes, I’m sure I would love it, even if I were just a co-pilot. But I don’t think my parents would let me, not now that I’m recovering. It’s obvious that you haven’t seen my mother when she comes over all mother hen… And besides, I’ve already decided what I’m going to do with my life. I’m going to be an aerospace engineer… To be honest, all I want to do is work on the Hermes Project. That’s all that matters to me right now. More than any dreams I might have had about flying a jet.”
“Well, maybe you’ll change your mind in the future. I’d like to talk it over with you again before I head back to the States.” Preston took a slow sip from his cup.
“Sure, I’d like that. If there’s one good thing that’s come out of all of this, it’s been meeting you. You’re a real inspiration.”
“Thanks, kid. Same here, I feel honoured to meet future stars like you… Even if you’re resisting the call to the skies.” Preston was sincere, he remembered when he met Kira.
“I’m not resisting it exactly; it’s just my skies are much higher than anything a military career could offer.” Luis was very certain about this; he was not a soldier like his father.
“Well, I wasn’t really thinking of a military career like the one you’d have here…”
Now Luis was intrigued. “Oh. You weren’t? What do you mean?”
“Let’s just say that I’m head up a prototype test team and someone like you, with your studies and after the right training… You’d be a real asset.”
“Wow. I’ll admit it, I’m tempted… You’ve certainly piqued my curiosity… But no—I’m really committed to my current work. But thanks for insisting, seriously.”
“Well, I won’t push it, but I had to try. Actually, there’s something else I’d like to ask you about…” Preston face became severe.
“Sure, ask away. What’s up?” he was surprised by that change in Jack.
“It’s about the accident the other day. I haven’t said anything about this to anyone. It’s not in my report.”
“What?” Luis suddenly started to feel nervous.
“Just before you passed out, you gave me this look… You looked totally stricken and you said: “The darkness… It’s coming for us… It’ll consume everything… I have to stop it…” or something like that.”
The colour instantly drained from Luis’s face. He couldn’t remember saying it, but as soon as he heard Preston’s words everything that had happened after he jumped from the aeroplane flashed before his eyes. The vision of the darkness. Seville in flames. That great black eye devouring everything…
“Luis, are you alright?” Preston asked in alarm.
“Yes. I’m fine. I just felt a bit dizzy.” Luis tried to hide the tremble in his voice.
“What did you mean by that?”
“I don’t know. To be honest, I can’t remember anything after I jumped,” Luis lied, he didn’t dare tell Preston anything more.
“It wasn’t so much what you said. It was the way you said it. Your face. The way you looked at me. I’ve only seen that expression on the front line. On people who have seen death right up close. Or are about to die. The thing is, yours was even more disturbing.”
“Really?” Luis was scared now.
“Yes, it was. And seeing as you’ve never been in a situation like that, to see that expression on your face… Well, I don’t understand it.”
“I don’t know… Maybe it has something to do with these nightmares I’ve been having recently. I wake up covered in sweat and in the dreams, I’m always in agonising pain. Maybe I had one after I passed out and don’t remember it…” He shuddered as he remembered.
“Nightmares? What kind of nightmares? Are they always the same or do they change?” Preston looked at him, his face softening.
“Well, the thing is… To be honest, I feel a bit awkward talking about this. I don’t want you think I’m crazy or anything. Actually, you’re the first person I’ve mentioned it to.”
“Don’t worry. There’s nothing strange about it. We all have memories and nightmares that haunt us for the rest of our lives. Shadows from our past that we want to escape, but can’t. We have to learn to live with them. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about,” Preston reassured him, recalling images that still preyed on his mind from his capture and escape in Tora Bora.
“The nightmare isn’t always the same. It has the same sort of basis, but the elements change,” Luis decided to trust Jack.
“You can tell me… What happens to you?”
“I’m always surrounded by this deep blackness and don’t know where I am. After that, there’s an endless staircase and a light at the top that draws me up to it.”
“Go on…” Preston encouraged him.
“When I get to the top, there’s always a corridor with a heavy metal door at the end. When I open it, one of two things happens. Either there’s a throne surrounded by a bright blue light, or I find myself in a giant cavern with whiteish walls. When it’s the throne, if I sit on it, I feel like I’m paralysed and then suddenly I fall down a hole and end up in the cave.” Luis tried to order his thoughts as he explained.
“It’s OK, kid. Then what?”
“Lots of different things can happen but basically I always end up on the shore of a huge lake with a massive tree in the middle. At first, I’m always alone. There’s no one else there. But after a while an enormous mythological beast appears.”
“A mythological beast?” Preston opened his eyes in amazement.
“Yes. The first time it was a wolf. Then some crows. Last time it was this horse that appeared and disappeared. Whichever it is, I always feel frozen with fear and the creatures attack me and rip me to shreds while I hear this voice telling me to wake up.”
“To wake up?”
“Yes, at the end it feels like something in the universe shatters because everything collapses and I wake up just when I think I’m going to die. I can’t make head or tail of it. Do you have any idea what the dreams could mean?”
“Honestly? No. But I’m worried that they affect you so badly when you’re awake too. Maybe you should think about seeing some sort of specialist. They’d be able to help you better than I can. I mean, let’s face it… I’m just a combat pilot,” Preston said with a reassuring smile.
“Perhaps you’re right. I’ll think about it. I haven’t actually had any more of the dreams since the day of the accident,” Luis admitted.
“You see, that’s good news already. Who knows, maybe the trauma of what happened helped to drive them off. Either way, if they come back, you mustn’t feel awkward about seeing an expert. That’s what they’re there for. No one will think there’s anything wrong with you. Quite the opposite… If someone with your potential didn’t look after themselves, that really would be crazy.”
“Thanks, Jack. I actually feel much better for telling someone. I’ve been really winding myself up about it, it’s been doing my head in.”
“That’s what friends are for… But my help doesn’t come free. You have to think about my proposal seriously, at least.”
Luis laughed. “You don’t give up easily, do you?”
“I’m afraid not. I think that’s something we’ve got in common, don’t you?”
Luis finally gave in. “I think you’re right. OK, you win. I’ll come and see you at the base before you leave and we can have a quiet chat about your offer. But I’m not promising anything, OK?”
“Good. It sounds like we’ve got a deal.” Preston was pleased.
“That’s right.” Luis nodded, smiling.
“Well, I hope you don’t mind but I’d better be getting back to the base. I’ve still got a lot of paperwork to get through. Sometimes I wonder which is worse, surviving a war zone or being stuck in an office staring at a screen.”
“Thanks for coming to see me, Jack. And for listening. I won’t forget it. And I’ll keep my side of the deal,” Luis said as they shook hands.
Preston left the sitting room and Luis heard him say goodbye to his parents who had been waiting in the kitchen while they chatted. The conversation with Preston had done him the world of good. Talking about the dreams had given him a sense of release, even if he hadn’t told Preston everything. It felt like a weight off his mind. The truth was, he hadn’t really been able to stop worrying about his last nightmare. He couldn’t shake off the strange feeling that something terrible was going to happen, and soon, but he had no idea what it could be. All he knew was that it was out of his hands. A sixth sense told him there was nothing he could do to prevent it. A shiver ran down his spine and the back of his neck tingled again…