The Beacon: Hard Science Fiction by Brandon Morris (red white and royal blue hardcover TXT) 📕

She was significantly shorter than himself, a little overweight, and wore a blue uniform that looked more like private security than police.

“How do you know that?” he asked.

“The others are already here.”

“How so? I’m coming from Reindeer Lodge, and except for an old Volvo, no one has passed me.”

“That must have been Esther. She’s in charge of breakfast. The others are staying at our ‘Aurora’ hotel.”

“I see.”

“I have your ID here. You must keep it with you at all times.”

Vera handed him a plastic card with an attached blue and white striped lanyard. He hung it around his neck and thanked her.

“You’ve never been here before, have you?”

He shook his head.

“Well, come with me.”

Vera took a lined jacket from the back of her chair, put it on, and pointed to the door.

Peter started the rental car. The guard sat next to him. The windshield immediately fogged up and Peter turned the ventilation controls to the highest setting.

“Pull up to the card reader,” Vera said.

He reversed a few meters, then pulled to the left until he could reach the card reader from his window. He tried his plastic card, but the barrier did not respond.

“You’re a guest, no privileges,” the woman said, handing him her card. He held it over the reader and the barrier opened. They followed the road for a few hundred meters until Peter saw a few clinker buildings and wooden sheds on the left.

“This is dispatch,” Vera said. “Turn left and drive slowly.”

As they passed between the buildings, the guard showed him the operations center, the hotel, and the restaurant.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

“No, turn left again over there.”

He drove them into a large square opening. It looked like the forest here had been cut down for a construction project.

“Big plans?” he asked.

Vera laughed. “No, this is the balloon launch site. See the road there at the end? That’s where we’re going.”

He turned into a wooded area. The road made a left turn. Then he saw an open area with some low buildings grouped around it. There was no rocket set up.

“This is launch site 1,” Vera said.

“Stop?”

“No.”

The road continued through another wooded area again until another clearing appeared. It had to be their destination, because there was a rocket in the middle of the open space. It looked huge out here in the open. It seemed to be leaning against an illuminated tower, as if it needed to rest a bit before launching.

“Stop there behind the flat-roofed building,” Vera said.

He parked the car in a gravel parking lot, got out, and looked around. He’d once visited the Kennedy Space Center in Florida. Here, everything was much more modest. And they were damn close to the rocket he saw shimmering above the building’s flat roof. He imagined the rocket taking off on a cushion of flame that enveloped the building and his car, until the paint blistered.

“Pretty big, huh?” asked Vera.

Peter nodded.

“It’s the tallest model to launch from here so far.”

“But we’re safe in that building?”

“Yes, of course. The safety margins are generous,” Vera replied.

She went forward and held the door for him. They were in a room about the size of two classrooms at his school. At the front was a large projection screen covered with status displays. A tall, slim man clad in a turtleneck sweater and jeans approached them.

“There he is, our curious guest,” the man said in German.

Peter thought he picked up a slight accent.

“Welcome. I’m Peter Bintzew,” the man introduced himself, “the CEO of RocketsPlus.”

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Peter Kraemer.”

“I’m glad you made it. I’ve been curious about you. You’re a physics teacher?”

“Yes, high school. You’re probably wondering what made me want to launch a CubeSat so badly.”

“Indeed. You’re our first private client.”

“It’s a long story.”

“All right, you’ve got to tell it to me. But for now, let’s get your satellite into space. You can sit there in the last row but, please, don’t touch anything.”

Then turning his escort, Bintzew said, “Thank you, Vera, for taking care of our guest. Sören can take you back to the front in ten minutes. He has something to do in town.”

“I’ll wait outside,” Vera said. “It’s too hot for me in here.”

Peter sat on a wooden chair reminiscent of the chairs on which his students suffered. A low desk in front of him held two monitors. To his left were two more similarly equipped workstations. There were six rows in total, almost reaching the projection screen on the end wall. The most important people seemed to be sitting in front, surprisingly few of them. Rockets Plus apparently got by with a small number of staff members. He’d once watched a launch at DLR in Ottobrunn, near Munich, and there had been twice as many people in the room.

What he saw was not particularly exciting. He would have loved to go out and watch from the roof, but he was not allowed to. A countdown was running on the projection screen, which had just stopped at T-5 minutes. A young woman with dark skin and short hair came over to him. She tapped around on one of the screens until he could see a camera image that showed the rocket. Clouds of steam were issuing from beneath it. Here in the north, this seemed normal to him. A sauna would probably emit no less vapor.

The countdown picked up where it had left off. The rocket was snow-white, almost its entire body filled with fuel. Only in the tip at the very top was there room for the payload. Who would his CubeSat be traveling with? Peter imagined the satellites talking to each other.

Hah!1 get to go out first.

So? Then I’ll live longer.

I’ll get to see a lot more than you.

My purpose is top secret.

T-60. The display counted down second after second. Peter’s palms grew sweaty. He slid them under his thighs. At T-15, he felt a vibration. On the screen, the first flames burst from the engine.