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Chapter Eight

Preparing for the Mission

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"Dr. Brazzelton will supervise the building of a ship which is capable of reaching the center of our planet. Once there, it will deliver an explosive charge large enough to restart its core. Dr. Zimky will calculate the scale of the explosion needed.

~

"This is a program I designed to simulate the effect of nuclear detonations on the core. If my calculations are correct, a tiny nudge in any direction will force the core back into it's normal flow."

"What's a 'tiny nudge' in planetary terms?" Josh asked, taking a seat beside Beck.

"Well, a thousand megaton give or take." Came Serge, waving his hand about.

"Tops," Zimsky. "Because any more than that would create a core instability."

"We made a few monster warheads in the two hundred megaton range." Serge took the ball back up again. He turned to his computer as the simulator did its work. "Braz, do you think the ship could handle five of these babies?"

"Yeah," Braz nodded his head confidently . "I can enlarge the ejection pod..."

"Forgive me," Iverson put a hand out, stepping into the conversation. "but, you know, I know I'm not the expert here, but what if the core is thicker or thinner? I mean, what if its not what you think it is? Isn't that going to affect the way the explosions are...?"

"Yes, yes, yes, yes." Zimsky stated in mock concern. "And what if the core is made of cheese?" He laughed. "This is all best guess, Commander. That's all science is, is best guess."

Iverson nodded his head thoughtfully. "So my best guess is you don't know."

~

"With luck, irony will break for the good guys for once, and the worlds biggest weapons of mass destruction will help save the world. The ship will be powered by a small experimental nuclear reactor. It will be divided into six compartments like cars on a train: the locomotive unit, navigation compartment, living quarters, engineering, bomb compartment, and finally the weapons control module."

~

"Up to a forty five degree angle, every compartment will be held level by these gyro control gimbals." Braz stated, pointing out the features on a computer simulated future Virgil. But if we do breach a section, bulkhead doors engage automatically, seal off the section in red, and eject."

"Is ejection really the best option?" Serge asked nervously. He didn't like the idea.

"Only option." Braz stated, unbothered. "Each damaged compartment degrades the entire hull."

~

"The objective is simple. The obstacles are gigantic. We're going to need all the help in the world, but if we are to avoid panic and chaos, the world at large can never know what's happening here. Which is where our friend Mr. Rat comes in."

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"It's called virus-bot," Rat stated as the computer went through its exercises. Josh watched in utter fascination. "It's a computer virus that will seek out files anywhere on the Web that contain keywords that we designate, and wipes them out." Josh's eyebrows raised as his head nodded in understanding. "This is my Kung-Fu, and it is strong."

~

"Meanwhile, there are a million puzzles ahead of us, and we have three months to solve them. We have a committed and ingenious team. We have every resource available to us, and we have the best of the world's scientific and technical talents on our side. With your help we can, we must...succeed.

~

This was it. The crew was belted and buckled into their appropriate seats. This was merely a test compared to what they would be facing in the weeks to come, but so far, it wasn't going well. Iverson, Braz, and Zimsky were shouting back and forth as Serge and Beck called out random necessary information. Josh sat rigid in his seat, not enjoying a moment of the ride.

"Feedback in the resonance tube." came Zimsky.

"Talk to me, gentleman." Iverson commanded.

"We are losing structural integrity." warned Serge.

"No, its not feedback." Braz corrected Zimsky. It's an impeller malfunction, I believe."

"No, its not, no. If it were an impeller malfunction-"

"For God's sake Braz, make the call!" Josh finally was able to say. Serge eyed him concernedly. He was pale white and his hands hadn't left the safety harnesses on his seat.

"No, I'll make the call, I should make the call." Zimsky spat.

"Sixty five knots." Beck yelled over the din. "Depth eight five thousand feet."

"Look, guys..." Iverson cursed. Braz and Zimsky were still going at it. Finally, through everything they could all hear Serge's laughter.

"We're going to- It's a disaster!"

MISSION FAILURE appeared on all the screens.

"What part of 'talk to me' don't you guys understand?" Iverson asked in a very pissed off way.

Stickley, from her position in the tower overhead, sighed and shook her head.

"For the twenty second time in a row, everyone on Earth is dead." she announced. Josh took a deep breath, happy that it was over. "Let's take a little quiet time, and you all are going to try this again."

~

Beck stepped around a very large, strange looking machine. Josh was working furiously under the table upon which it was placed.

"Hi." she smiled, getting his attention.

Josh looked up, alarmed and taken off guard.

"Hi." His face brightened a little at the familiar face, and he started to work casually around the trinket upon the table.

"What is this?" she eyed it admirably.

"Well, its a...I invented it." Josh said with some uncertainty. "It's how you're going to steer underground."

"It's um, not very good reception." she commented lightly.

"Well, you're looking through three feet of lead from fifty yards away, so...it ain't bad." he moved around, looking slightly offended but got back to work. "It's like a CAT scan at a hospital," he explained. "but its, uh, its-its souped-up. I invented it for Deep Earth surveying and then the government came in, bought my research, paid off my student loan guys and made me a consultant." he looked up and noticed her toggling with a few of the switches. "I'm sorry, this is really delicate; and I have it just the way I want it. So, um, excuse me." Beck smiled in a non-caring apology and moved to his other side. "Um, yeah. Then they brought me in when the pacemakers quit, and...boom--you know, I'm Apocalypse Boy."

"Apocalypse Boy?" she repeated with an uninterested smile.

"Yeah." Josh laughed. "I'm having T-Shirts made up.

"Well, hats sell better." She stated, messing with a few more things behind him. Josh winced.

"You know, its funny, because that is right where it should be."

"Well..." she started to argue, moving back around to his side."

"I'm sorry. I'm a little ragged around the edges. I'm just trying to get this thing to focus correctly."

She bumped in front of him a bit, taking the initiative on the controls. "This is really cool, but, can I just...?" she toggled with a few more switches, bumped up the readings on a few screens, and adjusted a lever as Josh painstakingly watched from her side. The mechanism shifted slightly, and as he viewed the screen he laughed.

"It's better. It's better...uh..." he laughed, feeling ridiculous.

~

Josh was outside later that night, star-gazing as materials for their mission were being unloaded and stored just a few meters below his position. He paid it little attention as static discharge roared over his head.

"God, I hate this sky." he whispered.

~

Beck sat in the commander's seat of the makeshift test cockpit of Virgil. She glided carelessly through the imaginary layers and layers of the Earth's underground for countless minutes before finally a siren went off. The cockpit shuddered, and her enjoyable ride came immediately to a halt. She cursed herself and stressfully ran her fingers through her hair.

"Crashing one ship isn't enough for you?" Iverson appeared from the back.

"Hey," She greeted. "Practice makes perfect."

"You can practice all you like. Doesn't mean your ready to sit in that seat." he opened the gate that separated the cockpit from the walkway next to it.

"So you keep reminding me, sir." she spat sarcastically, switching off the shuttle.

"You know, I doubt you're even going to listen to this but I'm going to give it a shot." Iverson sighed, sitting down in one of the crew seats. Beck turned, phasing lack of interest. "Being a leader isn't about ability. It's about responsibility."

"Got it, sir." she nodded.

"No you don't, Beck." he argued gently. "I mean, you are not just responsible for making good decisions. You have to be responsible for the bad ones. You got to be ready to make the shitty call."

Beck frowned. "What makes you think I'm not?"

"Because you're so good." he stated. "You haven't hit anything you couldn't beat. I mean, hell, you were the one who figured out how to save the shuttle. You made me, you made the rest of NASA just look like an ass." Beck nodded. "It's just that, you're used to winning." Iverson sighed, standing up. "And you're not really a leader until you've lost."

He left her to her thoughts then, frowning in the Commander's seat. A seat Rebecca Childs, for the first time in her life, seriously considered if she was good enough to fill.