Ad Astra - Into the Fastness of Space

By Richard Messer

In 1956, an emissary from a stellar confederation arrives in America and offers the Earth the opportunity of joining.

In 1962, the fifth, and maybe final, mission leaves to make contact with this confederation.

The five-person crew must make contact, as they must find out what had happened to the previous missions, and help resolve a war between the confederation and an unknown civilization.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Richard Messer
• Release date: May 16, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393693284

Richard Messer

After retiring from 40 years as a maintenance technician, I decided to try my hand at writing for profit.  Having written for a couple of amateur publications years before, and currently writing for Spontoon Island, an online website, this is my first try at giving the reading audience some different.  Enjoy! 

Book preview

Chapter 1

Nobody knew who Clarence Youngerford was, or from whence he came.  He simply wandered into the town of Lincoln Center, Kansas one day, back in the summer of 1956, and decided to stay.  From the local newspaper he found the address for a boarding house and settled in.  Next, he went to the local bank and arranged an account into which Youngerford deposited a check for a sizable amount of money.  The manager was both surprised as well as elated with this much money being kept in his bank.  Still, he did ask where the stranger to town had acquired such a sum.

Clarence Youngerford looked the manager in the eye and said softly, Been saving it for some time.

That was how the citizens of Lincoln Center first learned of this quiet and unassuming man.  Of medium height and built, Youngerford looked like any other man on the street, other than his piercing gray eyes and thick moustache that graced his upper lip.  His face was square and considered ‘roughhewn’ as some folk would describe him, with hands rough from hard work.  He got work with a local quarry of limestone as an equipment operator and repairman.  The other employees were amazed at how quickly he learned to run the machinery, as well as his ability to repair any breakage.

For two years Youngerford went about his life in a rural community in the heart of the Midwestern United States.  Over time little things about him would come to light, shedding some insight on his little known background.  Once, not long after he settled into his rented room at the boarding house, the owner – a Mrs. Bradshaw - came to deliver fresh linen for his bed.  She was amazed at how neat and ordering the room was.  The lady even commented once on how his bed would look proper in an army barracks.

Neatly tucked in and drawn tight, as if ready for inspection!

But the one item that drew her eye to it was a framed diploma hanging over the chest of drawers.  It announced this Bachelor’s Degree of Aeronautical Engineering was conferred to one ‘Clarence A. Youngerford’ by the University of Chicago in the year 1938.  When she had asked him about it once, the man merely shrugged and said, That was a long time ago.

Another time at a local diner and soda shop, Youngerford was quietly having a cup of coffee at the counter when two girls from the local high school came in for a soda after school had let out.  The woman working the counter at the time later told about how the girls were having a discussion over a French lesson they were taking and were speaking the language rather badly. 

Mr. Youngerford winced and pulled himself in, she noted, "as if trying to shut the talking out!  Well, he set his cup down, went over to where the two were seated at the booth, then began making things clear in what they were trying to say!

I have never heard someone speak French in such a clear voice, and without a trace of accent even!  He sat there for a good ten minutes, correcting those girl’s grammar, before he came back to the counter to finish his coffee!  Then he laid his money by the cup and left!  I think everyone in the diner was quiet for quite a while afterwards!

It wasn’t the only time that the understanding of a foreign tongue became known.  Once, the local theater was showing a recent war movie.  There came a point when two German soldiers held a brief conversation before leaving the scene.  Someone had asked their friend in wondering what they were talking about. 

And a voice behind calmly said, The corporal had asked the sergeant about going back to headquarters for some coffee.  The sergeant thought it was a good idea. 

The two movie goers turned to see Clarence Youngerford settling back into his seat and resume eating some popcorn.

A further element of this man’s makeup came one Sunday morning at the local Methodist church.  When the congregation rose to sing a hymn, a deep baritone voice from the back of the chapel caused everyone to turn.  Seated in the last pew by himself, the newest member of the community was following along with the rest of the people.  Afterwards, he did apologize to the minister for being too loud.  But the choir director tried, in vain, to convince the man to join the choir.

So it was for two years that the people of Lincoln Center quietly accepted its newest residence within its fold.  Going about his personal business, Youngerford kept pretty much to himself.  There had been a few attempts from some of the unattached women of the town to try and catch his attention.  He said he felt flattered at this attention, but gracefully declined any romantic attachments for the time being.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *

But events in late 1957 soon affected the citizens of this small Midwestern town as did the rest of the United States.  On the first of July it was announced that an International Geophysical Year was to incorporate 30,000 scientists from nearly 70 countries to study the Earth using a variety of earth and atmosphere disciplines to better understand the world.  However, it also included the unannounced launch of Sputnik 1 on October 4th by the Soviet Union.  It caught the entire world flatfooted!  Except for Clarence Youngerford. 

While the other people of Lincoln Center were beside themselves with concern over this launch, meaning that nuclear missiles could be coming from behind the Iron Curtain, the dark haired man with the thick mustache merely shrugged his shoulders when asked about what this meant to the country.

We already had a satellite ready for launch by Von Braun and his army people in Alabama.  Only President Eisenhower wouldn’t okay the launch.

What do you mean? someone asked incredulously.

Again Youngerford shrugged.  One, he didn’t want this to be a military show.  And two, the Russians seemed to have gotten word about our own program, and warned Ike that if we put our ‘bird’ into orbit around the Earth, they would take this as a sign of aggression and launch a strike against us.

It didn’t seem to mollify his listeners.  They wanted to know how he knew about this.

I use to work for the Army on this project and left when my time was up.

What project was this?

He looked at the speaker.  I’ve already said too much.  And walked away. 

But the follow-up to the first satellite upset the people even more when the Russians announced their sending into space the first living creature in Sputnik 2.  Little Laika, the dog, made the folks of this small Kansas farm community feel sorry for her for being the unlikely subject of the ideological struggle between East and West.  And when it was later learned that the canine died from overheating in her confining capsule, the people became angry over the Russian’s inconsideration for such a simple living creature. 

This is only the beginning, observed Youngerford once at the local bar.  Soon, they’ll be putting a man into space, as in the movies.

Why go through all this effort then?  someone asked in the tavern.

The man with the moustache took a sip of his beer before answering.

It’s only logical that someone would take that first step into space and the Moon.  Afterwards, it’ll be on to Mars and the rest of the Solar System.

But, why them and not us? another barfly put in.

The Russians want to show the world that Communism is a far better means of ruling the world than Democracy.

You think that’s what this is all about?

A shrug.  It’s what they believe.

And what do you believe?

Another sip, then:  We’ll stumble, like we did after Pearl Harbor, before we get our feet under ourselves and take off running.

The bartender set another beer down before Youngerford, waving off the payment.  We gotta chance? he asked.

Youngerford gave his signature shrug again while tasting the new glass. 

We do, but not with what’s heading for the launch pad now.  The Navy had set up a civilian operation to build and launch our first satellite, but it won’t be easy.  They had to design everything from scratch for both the satellite as well as the missile.  They haven’t had the chance to test it so it’s gonna be a ‘pig in the poke’ kind of project.

How do ya know? asked a third.

Sitting up on his barstool, Clarence Youngerford began:  "Werner Von Braun had set up a program using the Jupiter ballistic missile to launch our own satellite.  And we could have done it last year if Eisenhower had given us the ‘green light’. 

But he didn’t want the Army to have anything to do with this.  He also felt that the Russians were sincere in their threat, so they could sneak in through the backdoor towards the stars.  And leaving us with egg on our face.

But a great amount of egg would be slung into America’s face!  On the day before Pearl Harbor Day, as America and the rest of the world watched, the Navy’s vaunted Vanguard was ready for liftoff. 

As the residents of the Bradshaw boarding house watched intently on the black-and-white television, Youngerford was seated to side of the living room, away from the other boarders, watching in silence.  As the countdown was sounding over the speaker, the man said quietly, It won’t get more than five feet!

The others gave him questioning looks before turning their attention back to the screen.  At the count of Zero, flames flared out from under the tall slender black and white rocket as umbilical cords fell away to the launch tower. 

The rocket stood for a moment before it slowly began to lift off of the pad.  And that was as far as it went.  Barely three feet off the metal stand, the engine quit burning, letting the rocket fall back to earth.  Breaking into thirds, it fell across the pad as the nosecone came off and the spherical payload that was Vanguard dropped into the conflagration that had erupted a moment before.

Everyone across the world sat in stunned silence at this slap to America’s face.  For weeks the newspapers called the failure Flopnik and Kaputnik.  Americans became worried that the Soviets clearly had the upper hand in launching missiles, not only into space but around the world to strike anywhere. 

But for Clarence Youngerford, it was as if he had inside information about what was to come.  At least, to the residents of Lincoln Center, Kansas, who began to listen closely to what this usually quiet man who came from nowhere had to say.

It was about a week after the Vanguard disaster that something was about to happen.  A letter arrived at the Bradshaw boarding house that looked very official to the matron who ran the place. 

As she leafed through the mail that had arrived, she was taken back a little by the large brown envelope addressed to a ‘Mr. Clarence A Youngerford’.  But what really caught her attention was the return address:

MISSION DIRECTOR

U.S. Army Ballistic Missile Agency

Redstone Arsenal

Huntsville, Alabama

That evening after Youngerford returned to the boarding house with Curtis Bradshaw, the husband of the owner, he noted the letter sticking out of the pigeon hole cabinet for the renter’s mail. 

Without a word he carried the letter up to his room.  A half an hour later he came down and spoke in quiet words to Mr. Bradshaw who was heading towards the dining room for dinner.  Everyone who was seated around the table, and Mrs. Bradshaw bringing in the food, watch as the two men had their quiet conversation before joining the others at the table. 

When dinner was over, Youngerford assisted – and insisted - in clearing the remains and dishes away.  To the rest of the residences in the living room, they would catch an occasional snatch of words that came out of the kitchen between the Bradshaws and their fellow boarder. 

The couple soon emerged as Youngerford made a hasty goodnight to everyone else before heading up to his room.  And the others noted that Mrs. Bradshaw was crying quietly into a napkin in one hand while clutching some money in the other. 

Minutes later Clarence Youngerford came bounding down the stairs in his leather jacket and hat while clutching a small suitcase.  In the meantime, Mr. Bradshaw had donned his own hat and coat then left with the other man.  Soon, the sound of a truck pulling away from the house could be heard.

What was that about? asked one of the other boarders who had turned on the television.

Taking her seat in her own overstuff chair, Mrs. Bradshaw hiccupped, It seems Mr. Youngerford has been called back to duty!  He received a letter straight from that Mr. Werner Von Braun working for the Army’s missile people!  It appears the President has given the ‘green light’ to launch their own satellite!

The others sat in stunned silence, until someone muttered, Well, it’s about damn time! 

Chapter 2

Smoky Hill Launch Center, Schilling AFB, Salina, Kansas

7:45 am, 16 July, 1962

On a warm July morning in central Kansas, life in the city carried on as anywhere else in the United States.  Adults were either at work, going to work or settling in to sleep after working the night shift at local businesses and small manufacturing centers.  And children either played quietly outside their homes because of those sleeping parents, or headed to a nearby park to explode with youthful exuberance.

However, across the interstate highway to the west, continuous activity was the life blood of Schilling Air Force Base, as well as the Smoky Hill Launch Center that occupied the countryside to the north and west of the base.  This second operation had been open for nearly three years, but had become an economic boom to the local population.

From its early Old West days, Salina had been an important railhead for the cattle drives that came up from Texas.  And like her sister city of Abilene to the west, had been a ‘wild and wooly place’ for the cowboys at the end of those drives.  But once Texas acquired its own railway system, the railroad passing through soon concentrated on local commerce as well as hauling freight and passengers to and from Denver, Colorado and points west.

But change came to this central part of Kansas in the opening days of World War II. This came in the construction of what was to be known as the Smoky Hill Army Airfield.  Soon, aircrews were being trained on the ins and outs of the Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress for use in Europe and the Pacific.  After a couple of years the emphasis was the conversion of B-17s to B-29s for the Pacific Theater, including the processing and staging for those bomber units that were going overseas.

By 1947, the Army Air Force was separated from its parent organization to become the U.S. Air Force, and the creation of the Strategic Air Command became the organ for all bomber commands.  It was during this time period that the B-29s were replaced by the B-50.  Basically an up-engine version of the Super Fortress with a taller tail, it was now the nuclear deterrent force facing a Soviet Union that had exploded its first atomic bomb in 1949. 

During the mid ‘50s the runways and hangers were upgraded when the local air division swapped out its B-50s for the sleek new swept-winged B-47 all-jet bombers now rolling off of the assembly line in Seattle, Washington.  And Smoky Hill Air Force Base was renamed Schilling in honor of WW 2 fighter ace Colonel David Schilling who died in an automobile accident in England.

And yet, the history of this area took a bizarre turn when an unexpected visitor arrived.  During the late summer of 1958, in the midst of a meteoric display, an unknown device of extraterrestrial nature entered the atmosphere over the small town of Lincoln Center, miles to the northwest of Salina.  This device was originally thought of as being an actual meteor that impacted the earth close to the town, and thus launching a frantic search for it.  In the course of the search one man stumbled upon the smoking sphere deep within the elongated crater that it dug into the pasture.

Clarence Youngerford, a returning member of the community who had completed his share of work on the Explorer satellite program, gazed in awe mixed with consternation at the object within the beam of his flashlight.  To his mind’s eye, it did look like a meteorite.  But the engineering side of his brain began to doubt that conclusion. 

Flashing the light back along an obvious trail, Youngerford deduced that this was no ordinary impact crater.  He measured off the shallow trench that began a good thirty yards away, carefully stepping towards the final resting place, and noting how the furrow didn’t throw much dirt out along the way towards its final resting place. 

A quick mental calculation made him stand in utter surprise at the conclusion.  For what he thought of as a random meteorite impact now looked more like a carefully controlled crash landing!  Then things began to get interesting!

In the full light of the flashlight, the rough, blacken spheroid began to quiver and shake.  Surprised by this, and curious as to this odd action, the man got down onto his knees for a closer look.  Then he noticed the red fissures that were beginning to appear along the object’s surface, fissures that grew fiery and wider with each passing second!  But before Youngerford could roll away from the crater, the object exploded!

It was about twenty minutes later that headlights came bounding up over the rough ground.  Several vehicles stopped when their occupants saw the prostrate figure of a man lying face down.  There was a mad scramble from pickups and cars as those occupants made for the unconscious Youngerford. 

They gently rolled him over, and were amazed at seeing the dark flash pattern on his shirt but no evidence of any real injury to his person!  Some others stared down at the crater and commented on the remains of the meteor, but didn’t dare touch it. 

Soon some men picked up the limp figure and carried him to the back of a truck where a couple of women had spread some blankets out across the bed.  Once Youngerford was laid upon the padding, more blankets were laid over him before everyone else got back into the other vehicles and formed up a procession back to town.

At the local hospital and health clinic, the doctor who was on duty made a cursory examination but found no real injury to the man’s body.  Only the curious dark splash over his chest that matched the one on the shirt.  It was then decided that the patient should be taken to Salina and a better facility there.  This time, Youngerford was set into the back of a station wagon for the long trip down south. 

It was about an hour later that the small procession pulled up to the Emergency Room doors of Salina General Hospital and the unconscious man taken inside.  The night staff waded through the numerous presentations given out by the residents of Lincoln Center as Clarence Youngerford was wheeled into one of the alcoves for admittances. 

Again, there were comments of the dark patch on the man’s chest, along with the low blood pressure and respiratory rate of the unconscious patient.  On a whim, one of the interns went and fetched a Geiger counter, and began passing the wand over the stain.  When it began to resister above normal background radiation, there was a dash by the attending physician for the telephone and a call to the airbase across the highway.

Soon a cavalcade of security police cars and a military ambulance pulled up to the hospital.  Youngerford was loaded into the back of the ambulance along with all relevant paperwork.  Ten minutes later he was unloaded into a section of the airbase hospital that handled radiation cases.  Once more there was the cursory inspection along with a quick perusal of the accompanying paperwork.  The officer in charge of the Emergency Room then ordered an X-ray to be made. 

It was after the plate came back from being developed and set up against the lighted viewing panel that everyone watching stood in stunned silence.  Only the vague outline of Youngerford’s torso was evident.  But where bones and the ghostly images of organs were supposed to be seen, only a bright whiteout filled in the chest!  Then the man on the examination table began to mumble.

Need . . . to see . . . base commander!  The words were low and sounded as if the patient was in pain!  Again, Youngerford repeated himself.  The doctor, a major, and attending nurses looked to one another before the doctor went to a phone and began dialing.  It was several minutes later that Brigadier General Rupert Haynes hurried into the room. 

Haynes had served as a fighter pilot during the closing days of World War 2, then was called back to duty during the Korean conflict.  Afterwards, he worked his way up through the officer ranks from sheer diligence and pain-staking attention to details to reach his current job that day. 

At times he could be hardnosed over the operation of the base, but had been known to turn a blind eye to little things that made the jobs easier for those under him.  As long as those jobs were done and done correctly!  But the phone call he had received not ten minutes before seemed to have put a spin on that world of being a base commander.

He had just finished his last cigar of the day and the single beer he had nursed through the evening’s episode of I Love Lucy when his wife answered the telephone.  The worried look on her face told Haynes that this was going to be no ordinary call.  He listened to the hurried words of the attending physician at the base ER before setting the hand piece back into the cradle, grabbed his hat and coat, and bolted to his car!

Now General Haynes stared at the strange photographic plate clipped to the lighted panel, and felt oddly out of sorts as to what this signified.  He knew of the meteorite shower that night. Even notified the base security officer to have his people keep an extra sharp eye out for any falling rocks that could hit the air base.  And there was no telling if the Russians might try to sneak a missile in with that shower!

Again the man on the table began muttering again his request for the commander.  The general went over and leaned in a little, staring at the sun bronzed face with the large moustache.

I’m Brigadier General Rupert Haynes, in charge of Schilling Air Force Base.  What is it you need?

The later recounting of the event was a mix of clear descriptions with some hysterical outbursts.  But all who were present that evening all agreed on one aspect of the event:  Something had emerged from the chest of Clarence Allyn Youngerford to hover over the prostrate man!

A glowing sphere, roughly the size of a baseball, hung motionless about two feet over Youngerford.  The general and the Emergency Room staff stood rooted to the floor, staring in disbelief at this out-worldly object.  Then it slowly drifted towards Haynes, stopping about two feet from his face.

General Haynes? it asked in clear, precise English.

The man could only nod, his ability to speak frozen.

You may call me iXaxl.  I am a representative of, what would be called in your words, the Stellar Confederation.  My task is to confer with you, in your capacity as a military officer in charge of this installation, over permission for a following spacecraft of the Confederation to land at this installation.  Is this agreeable with you?  Also, on a note of manners, your mouth is hanging open!

The man blinked a couple of times before realizing that his mouth was indeed hanging open!  He closed it quickly, then straighten to attention before bringing his right hand up in a salute.

I am Brigadier General Rupert Haynes, commander in charge of Schilling Air Force Base, here in Salina, Kansas, of the United States of America.  And as such, I welcome you to Earth.

The bright sphere seemed to bob a bit, probably its way of indicating affirmative.

I thank you, General.  As I have noted, I am a representative of, and request on behalf of, the Stellar Confederation, a meeting with your president as to the possibility of establishing an embassy here on your world in general, and in your country in particular.  Could this be arranged?

General Haynes still stared in awe at this out-worldly creature, if it was a creature of some bizarre background, and allowed its request to sink in.  Making a couple of motions with his hands, he stumbled over his next words before getting ahold of himself again.

I, I, I can only pass your request up the line to the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. and the Secretaries of Defense and the Air Force.  Then they will have to forward it to the President’s Chief of Staff so as to be brought to his attention.  That is all I can do at this time, ah, sir.

All attention was then drawn back to the figure on the examination table as Clarence Youngerford moaned before slowly sitting up.  A couple of orderlies held on to him as swung his legs over the edge of the table.  This made the major rush over to him!

You shouldn’t be moving about, Mr. Youngerford!  You’re still suffering from the effects of, of . . . The words trailed off as the doctor tried to make the man lay back down.  But Youngerford brushed the hands away!

I’m quite alright, he groaned as he slid to the floor in his stocking feet.  Slowly he turned towards iXaxl who had drifted back towards him.  The two appeared to be eyeing each other before the extraterrestrial ambassador moved up to a close proximity of Youngerford’s face.

Forgive me, Mr. Youngerford, for my sudden appearance and unfortunate inhabitation of your body.  The forcing of myself into an unwilling symbiosis was the result of emerging from my capsule.  Had you not been bending over during your cursory examination of my capsule, I felt we may have started off our relationship on a better understanding.

The man gave the glowing, floating ball of light a suspicious sidelong glance before scrubbing his face with the palm of his left hand.

I was rather curious of your entry into our atmosphere and the resultant impact you made in the field!  The shallow angle of the furrow you made had me thinking that you were no ordinary meteorite!

iXaxl seemed to pause before replying.  That is our normal means of entering a planetary atmosphere.  The meteor shower provided the best cover for coming here.

Youngerford frowned.  ’Coming here’?  As in coming to Earth?

As I have just explained to the general over there, at which the glowing sphere seemed to have made a twist towards that fellow before twisting back towards the other, I represent an organization of stellar systems that are reaching out to other worlds we have deemed as possible candidates for entry into our Confederation.

The man continued to frown.  Why Earth?  And why the United States of America?

The alien continued.  "Your stellar system lies on the edge of this galaxy, as you have termed ‘The Milky Way’.  Our Stellar Confederation resides within this edge as well.  And we, the Xandls, are reaching out to those within close proximity of the Confederation as possible members. 

As to why we chose your particular country in regard to other governments on your world, we have learned over time how much your country has struggled to reach and maintain the ideals first set down by those who had founded it.  The rights of those wanting the basic freedoms and civil liberties, regardless of race, religion, and countries of origin, have drawn the Confederation’s attention to your America.  This is why I was sent here to establish contact with your government and request an embassy to be created for these reasons.

Now wait a minute! interjected General Haynes as he stepped forward to include himself into the conversation.  As much as you may want to establish contact with our government and install an embassy here, we still have to observe protocol and follow guidelines!  It’s something that cannot be accomplished overnight, eh, iXaxl, is it?

That is fully understood, General Haynes, and you have spoken my name correctly.  However, my mission to your world in general, and your country in particular, is to quickly make such events happen.  The main contact vessel has left the orbit of the fourth planet of your stellar system and will be here within five of your planetary days.

That caught Youngerford’s attention.  Fourth planet?  Mars?  And they will be here within five days?

That is correct, Mr. Youngerford.  I did get the address correct?

Wha?  Oh, yes!  ‘Mister’ is used for men, and ‘Misses’ for women.  Also, ‘Miss’ is used when you address unmarried women as well as young women.

iXaxl seemed to ponder this, but the humans present could only speculate that was why he was quiet.  But the alien emissary came back to their discussion.

This is why the contact with your president is of paramount importance.  If there is no official reception and greetings upon their arrival, then it could be mis-interpreted as an invasion and ignite a war that could lead to the total destruction of your world.

A somber silence fell across the room as the humans stood stunned by this announcement.  It was after a minute had passed before General Rupert Haynes snapped out of his stupor.

Major Hancock, you will place Mr. Youngerford in the Isolation Ward for the time being and see to his comfort.  iXaxl, I request that you stay with him during the time as I try to arrange this meeting with President Eisenhower.  There is no guarantee that he will make it here in the time slot you’ve asked for, but the threat of war will make him hurry things along!

Youngerford nodded in agreement.  Especially with the Korean conflict still fresh on people’s minds!

Haynes nodded as well.  Which is why I have to make this a Top Priority mission!  He then turned to the hospital staff. 

All of you should not be reminded of the security oaths you have taken upon enlisting in the Air Force and your subsequent assignment to a base under the auspices of the Strategic Air Command.  As of now you are attached to Major Hancock’s staff in seeing to the safety and comfort of Mr. Youngerford for the time being.  Is that clear?

The orderlies and nurses snapped to attention with a resounding, Yes, sir!

The general nodded and left the hospital.  He drove over to the Base Command Center and went to his office.  Once inside he removed his hat, coat and tie, hanging them on the coat tree, then proceeded to his desk. 

From a drawer he removed some paperwork with carbon copies attached.  He took one and began threading it into a typewriter.  Haynes knew that he should have called in someone else to do this task of writing.  But the fact that this situation was of a high order of secrecy, meant that no one else could be trusted to keep their mouth shut!

Opening the Roladex’ cover, he perused the listings of names and addresses of those necessary to get, as he thought, ‘this ball rolling’.  The general found the general who was the current chairman in charge of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and began pounding out the letter to him first. 

It took nearly a page and a half to complete his report before he signed it.  This letter was followed by similar copies to both Secretaries of Defense and the Air Force.  Then Haynes brought out envelopes that he carefully addressed to their respective recipients and inserted the corresponding letter into each.  The duplicates with their carbon sheets went into a floor safe for the time being.

Afterwards he telephoned the Officer of the Day to send a courier to his office before contacting the airfield’s Operations Desk.  He then requested a high-speed plane prepped and ready for takeoff to Andrews Air Force Base outside of Alexandria, Virginia.  This air base he called, explaining that a plane was coming their way to deliver important letters to those addressed on the envelopes, and that armed guards were to be assigned to accompany their deliveries, no questions asked! 

It was several minutes later that a knock at the office door announced the sergeant sent over to collect the letters.

Young man, the general began as he stood up, it is of utmost importance that these messages be taken to the aircraft ready to head eastward tonight!  There must be no delays, and no questions as to their contents.  Just get them to Base Operations and see that they are handed over to the pilot ASAP!  Is that understood?

The sergeant snapped a salute with a loud Yes, sir!  He held out his white-gloved left hand for the letters as he dropped his right down onto his holstered revolver.  Soon he was gone and the squeal of rubber on asphalt told of his hasty departure.

Rupert Haynes felt the energy drain from his body as he made his way back to his desk.  He picked up the phone once more and dialed his house.  He told his wife that he was staying there as ‘something important came up and would be expecting phone calls soon’.  She had been with him since he graduated from flight school so long ago that she