The Third Craft Read online

  “I understand. What can you do?”

  “I must recover the crew of the third craft and recruit them to help me fight Stell.”

  “That’s why this discovery is so important.”

  “Correct. I must be the one to recover the crew from the crash site, not Stell.”

  “And the boys?”

  “One way or another I plan to be with my sons. Their cover is blown now that the U.S. military is on its way to Elliot Lake. Everyone suspects who they are, right?

  “I’m afraid so, Frank.”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing, David, I’m tired of avoiding Stell. I’m going to bring them home.”

  “When?”

  “As soon as Elliot Lake plays out. Once I know, then I can act.”

  “Change of subject, if you don’t mind. Rose and I talked this morning about that very subject. She received a call from Joe last night. He sounded down. Rose is worried about the boys and how they’re living in isolation. She’ll be thrilled when she hears about your plans.”

  “I miss them more than words can describe.”

  Bohr looked at his watch suddenly. He stood up and picked up his briefcase. “Frank, you’ll have to excuse me. I have to attend a briefing with the others. I have some pictures and files from Los Alamos that I thought I could share. It will help refresh everyone’s memory.”

  “Sure. Hey, you’re the UFO expert, David. I’m going to step out for a few hours myself.”

  “You’re welcome to use the sofa if you like, if you need a place to sleep.”

  “I may take you up on that. Have a nice meeting.”

  Bohr stopped at the door, fumbling for a key. “Almost forgot. Take my key, I’ll pick up a spare at the counter.”

  Grayer gestured about himself. “A key’s not going to be necessary, David. How do you think I got in?”

  Bohr blushed slightly. “Of course. Silly of me. You got in without one. Secret agent man and all that.”

  After calling Joe, Hawk had decided to go for a walk to see the sights.

  Darkness had fallen when he finally rounded the corner to the front entrance of the hotel. He pushed open one of the Radisson’s heavy double wooden front doors. He headed toward his room. Passing by the bar, he thought, “Why not!” He sidled up to the bar and ordered a beer from the bartender. This bartender was not an easygoing type and wanted to card him, but a man at the bar said to give the kid a break and let him have a beer.

  “Are you a guest?” the bartender asked. “Let me see your key. OK. One beer, buddy, that’s all.”

  Hawk smiled and took the beer. “Thanks,” he said to his new companion, and gave him the international toast.

  “De nada,” came the reply. They chatted about nothing in particular and watched a Montreal Expos baseball game on the smoky overhead TV screen. Hawk didn’t notice a figure moving toward him slowly from behind. The figure stopped a few feet behind him.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” the stranger said in an authoritative voice.

  The bartender looked up sharply, certain that the man was an undercover city cop busting Hawk for underage drinking. He instantly regretted giving him the beer. He was going to be nailed for serving a minor.

  Hawk whirled around and his eyes widened when he saw who was speaking to him. “Dad! Oh my God. Dad.” He threw his arms around him and hugged him. It had been almost four years since they had seen each other. Hawk was breathless with excitement.

  Grayer pried himself from his son and held him at arm’s length by both shoulders. He was grinning broadly. “Mind if I join you?”

  Hawk practically toppled the stool over as he shifted one position down. Grayer ordered a beer. After it was delivered, he looked around the bar and suggested they move to a booth so that they could have a private conversation.

  Once they were alone, Hawk couldn’t restrain himself.

  “Dad. Joe found a flying saucer! I was there. I was inside. It was way too cool.”

  For the next twenty minutes he recounted his time aboard the craft and the discoveries he and Joe had made. Grayer couldn’t get a word in and he let his son go on and on. More than anything else, he was mostly grateful to be with Hawk again after so long. He enjoyed every moment. Hawk finished his story by explaining what he was doing in Sudbury.

  “Then you’ll have all the material necessary to do repairs?” Grayer asked. Without waiting for an answer he asked, “Did Joe believe that the craft was in good enough shape to fly again?”

  “We don’t know. I don’t even understand how these materials are going to be used to repair the craft.”

  “Does Joe?”

  “Yup. Joe seems to understand a lot about the craft.”

  The conversation lulled a bit. Then Grayer looked steadily into his son’s eyes. “I missed you very much, Hawk. I haven’t been entirely truthful about the reason for my absence these past few years.”

  “You weren’t on a secret service mission?”

  “Yes. Yes I was. But there was another reason I’ve stayed away. It’s the same reason that I had you stay with your aunt in Toronto and change your name. I’m concerned for your safety.”

  “Our safety?”

  “There’s a group of people that wish me, and you two, harm.”

  “You mean like spies or something.”

  “Something like that. Look, if I am around you, or even near you, they have a way of tracking me. Don’t ask me how, but they do. So our time together is going to have to be short.”

  The disappointment showed in Hawk’s face. “How much time do we have?”

  “You’re looking at it, kid. After we sort out Elliot Lake, I promise you we won’t be separated again.”

  Hawk’s eyes brightened. “Promise?”

  “Promise. I didn’t realize that you were staying at this hotel. I’ll be staying elsewhere tonight – just a precaution to prevent them tracking us here. Tomorrow, you have to go and get the material from the university and then head straight to Joe. I want you and Joe together in Elliot Lake and I want you safe.”

  “What about you, Dad?”

  “You forget what I do for a living. I’m a spy and a spy catcher. I have resources that no one can imagine. I’ll be safe. It’s you boys that I worry about.”

  “Don’t worry about us. We’re tough.”

  Grayer smiled. “I know you are. I count on that for sure.” He studied his empty glass and looked across at Hawk. “Hawk, you should also know that David Bohr is here. He’s staying here at the Radisson tonight. I would rather you not run into him, so go straight to your room, OK?”

  “Dr. Bohr is here? But why?”

  “He has been requested by the USAF to help in the investigation and possible identification of the craft you discovered near Elliot Lake. When you and Joe reported a possible UFO find, that triggered a different military-level response. This particular discovery, which everyone acknowledges as probably legitimate, is of an extremely sensitive nature. David Bohr has actually had some exposure to similar aircraft in the past. So the government called upon him and a few others to investigate.”

  “So you do believe that these things do exist. We really found one.”

  “If you only knew! Anyway, the government has sent a team up here to investigate.”

  “But Dad, didn’t you work closely with Dr. Bohr?”

  “We are the best of friends, Harry, and yes, we spent years together at Los Alamos.”

  “How could you not have known about the UFO?”

  “I never said I didn’t know.”

  “You just hid it from Joe and me.”

  “Hawk, my job is secret. Try to remember that secret means just that. I report only to the Secretary of Defense. He is my commanding officer. You must trust me on this.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Hawk said. “But maybe you should try to trust us sometimes, too. How do we know you don’t just use all this undercover spy shit so you don’t have to bother with us? I mean, we haven’t seen you in fou
r years. You hardly ever call.”

  The remark stung Grayer like a slap in the face. He looked pained. “Son, that is so off the mark. Someday you’ll know the whole story.”

  Hawk cupped his open palms up in the air in a gesture of resignation. “So you are not going to tell me more than I need to know. See, there you go again, you don’t trust anyone, not even me.”

  “Hawk, I need you to trust me for the next day or so, just a little while longer.”

  He reached out tentatively and touched Hawk’s arm.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “That’s not good enough, Hawk. I need you to promise me that you will trust me for the next day or so, whether or not you think I deserve it. Please, Hawk, this is very important to me.”

  “Yes, OK,” Hawk said. “What’s a few more days?”

  “Good. I want you to go to the university as planned. Get the material you need and then leave town immediately. Get to Joe and tell him about our meeting. I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “Good. David will contact you in Elliot Lake. You can trust David. Get him to the site to examine the craft before Connelly’s bunch has a chance to move in. I’ve asked David for his assessment of the situation.”

  For the next hour father and son caught up on news as best they could. Grayer then left the hotel and Hawk went to his room.

  CHAPTER9

  ELLIOT LAKE

  Call it a heightened sense of awareness, call it a new instinct, but Joe Grayer was fully energized, with a sense of urgency he had never felt before. Young Joe – who yesterday played practical jokes, sang horribly in the shower, entertained adolescent fantasies, dreamed of lying in the hot summer sun vegetating and nursing a golden tan, rode his motorbike until his back and legs screamed surrender, and hung out at the A&W – was experiencing a fundamental change. He now had purpose, drive, and direction. Kid stuff was, well, kid stuff. He was losing his teenage self-deprecation and fortifying his adult self-worth. He mattered. This project mattered. There was a big picture and he was part of it.

  He felt a craving to return to his craft as soon as possible. His craft? Since when had he thought about this thing as his? But it was true – he had assumed a heightened sense of ownership when it came to the spaceship. He knew that every time he entered the stall, he was bonding more and more closely with the vessel. He could almost feel it reach out and talk to him, drawing him in, whispering its secrets to him.

  There was a sense of apprehension in the air. A thought kept coming to him: he had to find and liberate the crew. That’s what had percolated in his mind overnight. He knew with certainty, though how he wasn’t sure, that there was indeed a crew on board. They were hidden to him. But why hadn’t the craft revealed their presence? What piece was missing?

  His brain, like a young muscle, had expanded and been taught how to use more of its massive computing power. He knew new things now. Sleep had provided valuable processing time to catalogue new information. He understood how he was being assimilated into the vessel’s aura. The vessel had an aura! That’s right. Perhaps it was a collection of the auras of the crew, a sum total of sorts. Who knew? Some beacon that other similar creatures or vessels could find.

  The ship’s aura was currently very weak. Damaged. It needed vital life-saving materials soon. The ship had been slowly dying for thirty years before its discovery. But that would mean it was alive. No, Joe. It’s not alive. It’s inorganic or non-organic. The vessel holds life but is not alive. It is a space capsule that protects life artificially in an inorganic environment. The entire vessel was symbiotic to the life essence of the crew. The crew existed; they were hidden somewhere on board. The ship revealed everything, except where they were.

  Joe absently wolfed down a quick breakfast. He understood that he needed the energy provided by the food. He stuffed his backpack with food and juice and raced out the door.

  SUDBURY

  As he rounded a corner on his way to the entrance to the Student Union building, Hawk saw Yuichi motioning to him.

  “I was looking for you! I have been up all night working on these formulations.”

  Yuichi’s mind drifted to his chemical creations. He scratched his chin in thought as he did so often in the lecture hall in front of his students. He couldn’t stop thinking about the compound that had unstable hydrogen held together with an amazingly clever complex binder. “The chemicals you seek are yours for the taking. They are ready at the lab.”

  Hawk was relieved. “Thank you.”

  When they got back to the lab, the professor slowly turned to Hawk. “I know I do not deserve the privilege, but whatever you are working on, would you consider allowing me to join you?”

  Hawk was speechless. Talk about an attitude swing.

  Yuichi continued cautiously, “You have discovered something important. Or – do not take offense – more likely someone you work with has discovered or developed new technology. If I can be of assistance, please allow me the honor of accompanying you.”

  “Sir, as much as I would be honored to have you, I’m afraid that’s not possible. You would be wise to forget me and these chemicals.”

  “We could win a Nobel Prize,” Yuichi countered. There was no smile. He wasn’t kidding.

  “We might. Then again, you might be interfering in matters you don’t understand.”

  Yuichi handed him a cardboard box. “You will find everything I promised in this box. Good luck to you. You are very young to be carrying such a burden.”

  Hawk bowed his head slightly and took the box. “Professor. I owe you more than you can imagine.”

  Joe had a plan and a goal.

  He walked briskly up to the fuselage of the craft. He held his hand outward like a cop directing traffic and strode forward without pausing. To an observer it would have appeared that he was intent on walking smack into the side of the craft, probably breaking his nose in the process. All of a sudden, though, the door flew open with a click and a whoosh of air. Joe kept on walking straight through as if it were perfectly normal for this to happen. The door slid closed silently behind him.

  He headed immediately to the bridge. He sat confidently in the command chair and touched a series of controls on the panel. A soft voice welcomed him aboard and he grunted an acknowledgement. He put the damage report on the screen and studied it for several minutes, acquiring close-ups and other information that appeared on the screen instantly. His hands flew all over the panel. He attempted a few voice commands, but was gently rebuffed. He grudgingly returned to touching a series of lights on the control panel. Then, he absently rubbed his hands against his pants and bit his lip. He had a plan. He was going to try to power up the vessel.

  His hands gave succinct orders to the computer. On screen came a 3-D view of the matter/anti-matter drive module. It seemed intact. Joe then went to a damage-report view of the same module. All was intact; there was no breach. He sent a command to the ship’s energy drive. He was attempting to activate the power.

  His command, in reality, fed a few grains of anti-matter into the matter/anti-matter drive module. Onto the screen came a pop-up monitor providing a large visual of the actual device itself. It was an infrared heat indicator. Strange symbols changed rapidly. Joe understood the symbols clearly. There was heat energy, lots of it. The matter/anti-matter reactor was functioning.

  Next, he transferred some of the energy to the thrusters. A rumble like a rolling thunderstorm broke the silence. Then the craft started to vibrate. Then it began to undulate and then to shake violently. The rumble became louder and louder. Joe braced himself to the deck like a sailor in a storm. Suddenly there was a loud wail like a warning horn. The soft voice warned Joe that the vessel was stressed. Her hull temperature was high and some of the internals were getting hot. The vessel’s monitoring system recommended aborting the attempted maneuver before any damage occurred.

  Joe’s heart was racing so fast that he thought he was having some kind of atta
ck. He checked the ship’s monitors and decided to stop what he was doing. He touched a few controls and the vessel immediately fell silent. A little shaken, he got up from the chair, held his arm up and out, and closed his fist. Everything shut down. He had failed. He felt slightly nauseous from the adrenalin rush. He went outside and sat down heavily on the ground. His right leg was shaking, tapping up and down on its own.

  He calmed down, eventually. He sat and stared at the partially exposed vessel. He tried to review what had gone wrong. The ship should have had enough power to break free. The more he stared, the more something seemed out of place. Suddenly it came to him. The craft was buried deeper in the ground than before. There’s only one thing that could have happened, he realized: he had directed the craft in the wrong direction. He had driven the vessel deeper into the hillside.

  He jumped up. “I have to go in the exact opposite direction,” he said out loud, shaking his head in disbelief at his error.

  Joe burst into the control room and flung himself at the bridge. The panel and screen came to life and he repeated the same procedure, but with different directional coordinates. The same thing happened again. There was loud rumbling and stomach-churning vibration. He remembered a trick he had just learned in the Learning Stall. He gave a new command.

  The walls of the room dissolved into a 360-degree visual of the vessel’s surroundings. Where the ship was buried in the hillside, the wall was dark, and where they had dug away and freed the ship, Joe could see daylight. He could see the forest. It seemed as if he was staring right through the ship’s hull at his Suzuki. It appeared to be right in front of him. “Should have done this in the first place,” he mumbled.

  The view was as clear as if Joe was merely a few yards away from his motorcycle. The image was also in perfect 3-D. He felt that he could reach out and touch his dirt bike. He held his hand up and slowly opened his closed fist, spreading his fingers. The view of his bike enlarged, then enlarged again. Now his bike seemed just inches away.