[Original Novella] Facade, Part 3 (the finale!)

in #writing7 years ago


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It lurched around me as some unseen pair of hands, perhaps hundreds of little ones, picked up my hiding place and loaded it onto a cart. Or small vehicle? I was jostled about slightly as whoever had come to collect the case delivered it to what I hoped was the launchpad.

“I don’t know”, I heard outside, somewhat muffled. “He just left. Yeah, I know you were waiting on him. He’s done this before, you’ll recall. Should really be replaced before he throws the project completely off schedule. You’re lucky I thought to check on him.” I heard a loud electrical whine and felt upward acceleration. A lift?

The case was then hoisted up and carefully slid into what I hoped was the capsule at the top of the rocket. Confirmed when I heard the loud clang of a shutting hatch, and felt pressure on my eardrums. Then more agonized waiting. Couldn’t I have set it for two hours? Would it have really made a difference?

I strained to see my watch. Just barely couldn’t manage, arm pinned by the confines of the case. It smelled faintly of the eggs I’d taken from it earlier. Then I heard some incomprehensible loudspeaker nonsense. Barking out one foreign sound after the next which, when I realized it was a countdown, sent me into paroxysms of joy.

At last, the familiar crushing force of liftoff. A few minutes of violent shaking and pressure until everything was once again serene. I felt myself become weightless, and chose that point to open the case. I gasped for air, which helped somewhat, but soon grew dizzy again. Withdrawing the perchlorate candle from my pocket, I activated it, securing at least a few minutes of oxygen.

The capsule interior was baffling. As I suppose I should’ve anticipated as it wasn’t meant for humans and, evidently wasn’t even meant to support a living, breathing being. There were no whirring fans, no gentle hissing or any of the other sounds I associated with life support. Then I remembered the note.

Only designed to deliver eggs. No wonder the interior was so small. Nothing resembling seats either, just someplace to secure the cylinder. I began to panic, wondering if I’d asphyxiate before-

Just then, the device fired. Their equivalent of it, anyway. The white fog enveloped me, I felt my stomach drop, then all of a sudden everything returned to normal. As normal as it could be, given recent events. I peeled back the suit, struggling to squirm out of it in the tight confines of the capsule interior.

When re-entry began, there was nothing to strap myself into. The best I could figure was simply to climb back into the egg cylinder, shut it, and pray. A luxury I’d not had for decades, but my only recourse as I hurtled through the upper layers of the atmosphere, sweating profusely in my strange little coffin.

Thrusters fired. No chutes deployed. Evidently their technology allowed a powered landing. The burn continued until I felt the vessel set down. The hatch opened automatically, the cylinder was angled appropriately, then propelled out through the open hatch into the snow.

Glorious, familiar snow. I crawled out, blubbering, overcome with relief. In the distance, the headlights of the recovery crew approached. I laid back, sinking into the snow, and looked at my watch. Then laughed at the sky.

I was wrapped in blankets, and the beautiful political officer I recognized from the car now pushed Vodka on me, laughing and even planting a kiss on my cheek. The technician and soldier also riding in the back with me grinned ear to ear.

The launch facility was wholly undignified. Drinking, cheering and carrying on, all men I recognized had been tense before the launch. Many came up and hugged me, slapped me on the back and tried to get me to join them in song. I suppose I expected a hero’s welcome upon return. Going into it. But after what I’d been through, all I wanted to do was sleep.

I awoke ten hours later, give or take. Feeling hung over and wondering if the entire disturbing affair had been a bad dream. The political officer handed me a telephone, and informed me someone would like to speak with me. I told her I needed more sleep, but she was very insistent. I understood why when I answered the call.

It was comrade Stalin. I nearly fell out of bed. Collecting myself, I listened intently and responded as politely as possible. “I understand you completed the mission assigned to you. No doubt it was an ordeal. Very few expected you to succeed, much less return. I commend you for the invaluable service you’ve performed for the Motherland, and for humanity. I trust you understand why we could not tell you more upfront, and why it is necessary that you never discuss the particulars with anyone. Again, congratulations.”

I sat back, dazed. This would mean big things for my family. Not at all what I’d expected from a career as a cosmonaut, but right then I could find very little to complain about. At the political officer’s insistence I was brought before a panel of various Party officials who wished to thank me in person. The partying had thankfully died down, most were asleep in their bunks, so soon I sat before a semicircular table with an array of uniformed old men sitting around it.

“The probe returned confirmation that the device detonated”, one began. A projector lit up an immense screen behind them, with what looked like magnified satellite imagery of a nuclear blast. “It was a long shot, to deliver the payload this way. But while they routinely shoot down autonomous weapons, they can somehow detect if there are living occupants, and if so, allow landing. By now, you know why that is.”

I nodded somberly, recalling the processing plant I’d passed on the way to the launch facility. “It is no exaggeration to say that your improbable success has set them back by years, perhaps decades. Buying us time to draw up strategies and build more vehicles in advance of a full scale invasion. Your actions may well have saved the human race, boy.”

I thanked them for their kind words but reaffirmed that I’d only performed the duties assigned to me in service of our great Socialist Republic. As I knew it would, this delighted them, and it took fully several minutes for their applause to die down. That’s when they took off their masks.


The End.

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Nice post, cant wait to see more. Since a while back when you told me to stop making comments on you and focus on creating good content I have learned so much about steemit and enjoyed myself a lot more. I have gained a lot of followers and I am sorry for comment spamming you a while back.

No prob. Glad to hear it, that's the way to succeed on Steemit! Have a follow.

Hey, you upvoted one of my irl friends post, thank you, He actually plays a lot of games and didn't know what to post so I told him he could make a review like you did, Thank you for helping him out. He is actually like so happy right now I thank you might have have influenced him to make more post.

Another great story ! Steemit community is lucky to have you :)

It was fun to read you have great talent to imagine things and then write about them

You really like SF novels. Interesting story and a good end.

Nice landing comrade. Here, take a sip of Vodka and Stalin is waiting on the phone.

Thank you for the great story, comrade. It was another good one, man! This also re-sparked my interest in cosmonauts a bit, haha. Got really interested in their history before, especially when I found out they carried a triple barreled pistol into space from 86-06 in their kits that has a stock that worked as a machete, lol.

Okay, I kinda saw this one coming, but it was still good. Kinda makes me wonder if he was even on his earth from the beginning...

Very well written, @alexbeyman! You should definitely publish a book.
My favourite part it's a fragment from the first part:
'In these times one either lives to serve the state, or does not live. And as I have never had any interest in politics, only spaceflight, any government which permits me to realize this dream is acceptable to me.'

Maybe it's a little bit extremist, but if we think more deeply but it's a good lesson: when you have a dream we have to do everything and never give up! In this way... always will be a happy end story.

This puts the tech race in perspective. A single man can change multiple futures beyond belief if he does crazy shit.
P.S. short but gold.

Nice @alexbeyman i hope one day get the ablity to write novel

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