Bootstrap – Part One
Discovery Neal Watkins mopped his brow, adjusting his wide-brim hat in the New South Wales heat. “Sub-tropical my arse.”, he muttered, remembering the job posting. His main job title was “Radio Astronomer”. His secondary job was fixing and maintaining the large radio dish, including rousting any local wildlife. He had responded to the job listing…
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Bootstrap – Part Two
Slow waves broke over the pier, vanishing into the grey mists beyond. Neal looked over the edge into the water, past his reflection into the shadowy depths. A white shape, flowing and moving. Arms reaching out, impossibly long. Tendrils of fingers breaking the surface, curling around his face smothering his breath. Gasping and choking, he…
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Bootstrap – Part Three
The conversation was brief and evasive. Neal hung up the phone, residual impact resonating the ringing mechanism in tinny aftertones. They were coming here. What they wanted wasn’t exactly clear, but Neal had a bad feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. He had to prepare. Sitting in front of the constellation of monitors,…
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Bootstrap – Part Four
Neal was sitting at his workstation when the door slammed open, knocking over the remaining pile of printouts stacked on the cabinet against the concrete wall. A group of soldiers flooded the room, parting to allow a tall man wearing a dark suit. His demeanor suggested any resistance would be met with swift reprisal. “Agent…
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Bootstrap – Part Five
Neal’s office was nearly bare. Desks had been moved and equipment carried out, impressions from the furniture still marking the carpet in perpendicular lines. His workstation was the only connected machine left. Agent Reed pulled out the chair and motioned for Neal to sit. “You’ll stop wasting my time and show me the logs.” Neal…
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Bootstrap – Part Six
Decode The diesel engine coughed and rumbled as they took a sharp turn, kicking up dust in the headlights. Up ahead, two sentries stood watch at the entrance, portable fencing anchored with large cement blocks. Reed flashed his ID, guard checking a printed list. They passed, waved on as the following trucks idled behind them.…
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Bootstrap – Part Seven
Neal’s back ached. The console seating was meant for fully deployed troops loaded with gear, not a tired astronomer being carted around the back country like a confused tourist. The workstation window was cluttered with various terminal windows and utility screens. He had been at this for what seemed like hours. The red tactical lighting…
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Bootstrap – Part Eight
Neal hammered on the keyboard, fingers dancing in complex rhythms as he cornered a solution. It was simpler than he thought, the origin signal, that is. Once he partitioned the problem into logical chunks, it all started to unveil itself before his eyes. He had journal-worthy discoveries here, if he were ever allowed to share…
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Bootstrap – Part Nine
A tabbed terminal window began pulsing on screen, highlighting search results. Neal glanced over at the bored soldier on duty near the door. The guard was focused on a small display in the corner of the room, tuned to a cable news channel. Neal clicked on the tab and reviewed the results. Paydirt. The scanner…
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Bootstrap – Part Ten
Ceiling lights rocked and swayed with each concussive blast, fine dust raining down from above. Neal compiled the final module, watching the indicator reach 100% in short jerky bursts. This was it then. Sharp notes of ozone drifted from the insulated pylons in the center of the room. They were on build-up to the final…
Click to read more…(If you’re wondering why have another page that you click-through to read, its to set up for expanding on this category with subsequent posts. Thanks for your understanding.)