Chapter 1

                                                American Guardian

 

                                        Chapter 1

 

                       

                        It has been nearly three years since the cosmic crossing began. There had been seven crewmembers in all; a pilot, a navigator, a physician, an engineer, a bio-scientist, an earth scientist, and Roger Stephens who did whatever everybody else couldn’t and of course his German Shepard, Nemo. They had left Earth in search of vacant earth-type planets that could be settled. Earths ozone layer is virtually depleted and the scientific community estimates that there are fifty to one hundred years left before the various forms of cosmic radiation started to kill off the population in large numbers.

                        The ship is outfitted with cryogenic chambers for the crew to hibernate in since the journey was expected to be to a twenty year round trip. The computers had systems to make minor course corrections if the situation arose and an emergency reawakening for more serious problems. Six of the seven crewmembers would sleep until they reached their destination. The seventh, being Roger Stephens, would wake up periodically to check and maintain the ships systems. He would age a little more rapidly than the others.

                        With as high an IQ that Roger has, calling him a “jack of all trades” is akin to equating a marathon to an afternoon walk. He was skilled in numerous fields simply because he would become adept with one vocation very quickly, become bored and move on to some other field of endeavor, conquer that one and move on, etc. When this opportunity presented itself, he couldn’t resist this challenge.

                        Upon passing Venus and approaching the Earth he finds himself within radio range. Grabbing the microphone he attempts to contact Mission Central. On his first try he hears static. The same for his second and third tries. On his fourth try Mission Central responds and relays the coordinates for his landing. They start shooting question after question at him when his radio apparently goes dead. The re-entry is very rough. Even thru the heat shield he feels the temperature start to rise. Beads of sweat start to form on his brow. He corrects his angle of decent to reduce the friction on the ships hull and in turn reduce the rising temperature.

                        Suddenly the ship starts to buck and Roger double checks his restraining harness. The blue and white marble that once filled the view port is now filled with an orange and yellow haze. White puffs of smoke mix in with the oranges and yellows. A few more minutes pass and the ship slows to a point where the friction is greatly reduced and the Earth is becoming visible below him, the blue-green oceans rising up as if to greet him. He checks his computer screen and makes a minor adjustment to his approach vector and the ship moves ever so slightly down and to the left.

                        His radio has been silent ever since he flicked the on-off switch. When he is five minutes from touching down he turns the radio on and informs Mission Central of his location and condition. Two minutes from touch down and he makes his final corrections and decides that he will bring the ship in manually, bypassing the computer navigation systems. He extends the landing gear and the ride becomes considerably bumpier. Fifteen seconds from landing and he checks the braking chute indicator and all is well. Touch down! The wheels screech trying to halt the vehicle. He feels the vibration of the wheels riding on the tarmac, minor penny sized holes feel like potholes in the road after a New England winter. He deploys the braking chute and lurches forward, kept in place only by the thin restraining harness. The ship rolls to a slow crawl and finally comes to a rest.

                        As the rescue vehicles approach, Roger unclasps his harness and rises from his seat, stretching his legs and getting used to Earths gravity. Laboriously lifting each leg placing one foot in front of the other. Prior to opening the hatch he removes his flight helmet placing it on the co-pilots seat. Reaching the hatch he keys in a code and then lifts the release lever and the hatch pops out on its hinges. The stench of burnt rubber and acrid smoke fills his nostrils. As much as he would like to free Nemo from his case, he realizes that it will be four days at the earliest before he is thawed out from the cryogenic stasis.

                        The emergency crew reaches the ship and rolls the staircase into position. Once it is secured he steps out on to the stairway and slowly descends to the waiting medical team. Then the one question he has been trying to avoid is asked of him face to face – where are the rest of the crew? He responds by asking what her security level is and she says it is a level six. He tells her that she has to have a level two or higher for him to answer. A member of the security team advances towards the ship and Roger firmly grasps his upper arm and informs him that under no circumstance is anyone to enter the rear storage unit. He has placed a personal key code lock on it and will remove it when he clears decon. As he enters the waiting transport vehicle, the passenger in the font seat hands him a secure phone. The person on the other end of the line says he will meet him at the decontamination complex for a full briefing as to what happened to the rest of the crew and the phone goes dead. Seems word moves quicker than he remembers. He returns the phone, tilts his head back against the headrest and enjoys the soft country western song the driver has playing on the radio. Some things just can’t be replaced.

            Two songs later they arrive at the decontamination building and he disembarks from the transport. Two medical technicians accompany him to the check in point. Walking through the corridor he notices that not much has changed since he left. The walls, floors and ceilings are still bright white and the recessed fluorescent type lighting is emitting a soft pale white glow. They reach the glass doors of the main entrance to the decontamination ward. Waiting to let him in on the other side is the Chief of Operations, Lee Stanislowsky. Lee slides his badge thru the card reader and the doors open allowing Roger to enter the facility, and as the doors close the medical technicians turn around and head back down the hallway.

Stan escorts Roger to the decon chamber handing him a pair of matching blue sweat pants and top. He also hands him a pair of those hated hospital issue footgear. Entering the beige color room he sees a wooden bench with a cardboard box sitting on it. To his left he sees a green door and next to it in the wall an open alcove with a steel door attached to it. Roger lifts the top off of the box and removes his worn flight boots and places them in the box. When he finishes removing his flight suit he places it in the box. Finally he removes and places his underwear and socks in the box. He lifts the box and places it into the opening in the wall. As he reaches for the sweat suit he glances in the mirror before him barely noticing the scar running down the center of his hairy chest. Hopefully he will be able to convince Lee once he passes the decon examination to bypass the medical poking and prodding. Between the scars on his chest, the bio-ocular implants and the card reader port in his skull placed behind his right ear, he would have an awful lot of explaining to do. He sits on the wooden bench and places the footgear on.

 Once he has the footgear on he exits the room thru the green door entering the decon chamber. At the click of the door closing behind him he turns and notices that the door has no handle on this side. He looks back at the cylindrical object in the middle of the room, noticing that it resembles a MRI tube with the exception that there is no opening on the far end of the tube, a door on the near end and it is slightly larger. For some reason he feels his claustrophobia starting to creep back. He takes a moment to push it back down and out of his mind when suddenly Lee asks him thru the speaker if he would like a sedative. He refuses saying he has it under control and steps up and slides into the cylinder.

 As he lays on the cold steel Lee explains that this initial procedure will take approximately two hours and that he should relax. The lighting in the room dims and a violet light slowly starts sweeping over him. Roger closes his eyes and begins to meditate as he was instructed to do by his mentor, Pete. He called him Pete after a former schoolmate from high school who Roger thought kind of resembled a lizard. Even after a year Roger is still unable to pronounce his given name. Pete stood seven feet tall with a tail three feet long. His skin coloration is a slight green and with the positioning of his pores causing his skin to have a scale-like texture. The shortness of his legs and arms seemed out of proportion to the rest of his body yet; for all of what appear to be shortcomings he had mastered a variety of forms of martial style self-defense.

Using the mental disciplines taught to him by Pete, Roger was able to suppress his fear of confining places. As he practices these disciplines within the decon chamber he finds that the time spent within the tube passes quickly. Two hours and ten minutes after entering the cylinder the hatch pops open and grabbing the bar overhead he slowly makes his exit.

Standing at the glass observation window Lee presses the button for the intercom and informs Roger that he has no bugs in or on him and that he can exit the exam room. A buzzer sounds and the door indicating the exit slowly opens into the room allowing Roger to pass through. Entering the observation room Roger observes Lee enters the office and motions for him to follow. Roger crosses the room with half a dozen steps pushing open the door marked with a sign saying Chief of Operations, following Lee into his office.

As Roger looks around he notices that the office is sparsely decorated. A medium sized glass-like desk with no drawers and only a small laptop computer and picture of his three children on the surface. A black and silver chair holds Lees’ somewhat small and plump frame. In front of the desk are two chairs, also black and silver though a tad smaller than Lees’. The carpet is a light blue Berber matching the wall color. On the walls are a number of pictures of flights that Lee has been Chief of Operations of.  And on the wall behind him are numerous awards and commendations all centered on his one true joy, his college degree in business management.

Lee gestures for Roger to take a seat pushing a cup of coffee toward him and as Lee grabs his own cup, he asks Roger, “What the f**k happened up there?”

Reviews

[Melissa M.]

This reads more like a prologue than a first chapter, and a narrated one at that. The first thing I noticed is the tense confusion in the first few paragraphs. You start out using "had" a few times making it read like a description of past events but then use present tense terms to describe the ship. I would recommend using present tense rather past.
This chapter would also be a lot more gripping if you add some dialogue. There is a perfect opportunity for some during the landing when Roger is speaking to Mission control. Use dialogue rather than simply telling the reader about it. You do a decent job of describing bits of Roger's personality, but nothing of his physical appearance. Right now I have no clue what this character looks like, or really what to think of him.
In my own work, I found some stories are better told from a different point of view. This might be better stated from Roger's POV since he seems to be the one who knows what's going on. Just an idea.