Hello everyone this is Dave the Miracle Maker. I hope you all are having a wonderful day. It’ another great day up here on the high Desert of Southern California. I am almost finished with the rough draft of my new novel, Gone Missing I only have a couple of chapters left to write. It has been a fun project so far.

How many of you could use a little extra money? I know I can. There are millions of ways to make money online. Some of them only pay a bit of little money, but small income streams add up. There are also ways to make lots of money. There are sites that pay to take surveys, play games and watch short videos. This is what I do. First and foremost, I write. I have twenty six books that are on sale at amazon.com. Also I blog. If your WordPress blog is a free site consider upgrading to a premium site. This allows you to monetize your blog. You can create a premium content page where people pay money to subscribe and view your premium content. You can also allow WordPress to place adds on your post. When people click on the ad, you get paid. You can also sell products on your blog. I urge all of you to upgrade a premium site and buy your own domain name. I recently upgraded my site. There are also sites online that will pay you to take surveys, play games or view short video ads. You won’t get rich doing this, but if you have several small income streams making you a little money, it adds up. I do surveys on Survey Junkie. Last month I made almost one hundred dollars just taking surveys in my spare time. I am also starting an affiliate marketing business where I sponsor other people’s products. When people click on your affiliate link and buy the product, you get paid a commission. I use Digistore24, but there are several others like Click Bank and warrior Plus. This can make you a substantial amount of money if you build your business, and market your sponsored products right. On the internet you can make a little bit of money, or you can become a millionaire, like Wesley Virgin who produced the Genie Script. All takes is work and you need to believe in yourself. If you are interested in making money online, I encourage you all to jump in with both feet. Start watching YouTube videos and educate yourself. Above all don’t quit or say I can’t do this because you can. Until next time, peace out!

Now for your reading pleasue check out chapter of my science fiction novel, the Battle for Europa

Chapter 6

Cyrus Bonelli stood by a window on the top floor of the CEU council building in New York City. The building was set on the same spot that had once housed the old United Nations building. Cyrus wished that he was back home in Italy. Gazing out at the sprawling city below, he watched aircars pass by in the night. A diplomatic shuttle descended to the roof of the building. God, I hate New York. One more year and my term as president of the council will be over. Some men coveted the position, but Cyrus loathed it. As council president, you were the most powerful man, on Earth. You were also the most powerful man in the entire solar system.

With great power comes great responsibility. Sure, the apartment occupying the entire floor below the council chambers is nice. The perks and the money are good, but the stress could send me to an early grave. As if I don’t have enough on my plate dealing with all these bureaucrats, and now this. If I catch this Shawn Gallagher, I’ll fire the laser bolt into the back of his head that takes his life. That’s why the president only serves one six-year term. The job is too much for one man.

Cyrus turned and gazed at the council floor below. This was where the council made the major decisions that affected the lives of everyone. His mind drifted to the past. In a terrorist attack on 09-11-2001, two jet planes crashed into the old twin towers, bringing them down. The attack killed a large number of people. That catalyst led to the Third World War. One of the last accomplishments of the old regime in Washington was to build a monument to the ones lost in the terrorist attacks. It was one of the only remaining monuments of that failed regime.

Cyrus stepped down from the raised viewing platform and crossed the spectator area of the council chamber. He ignored the hum of conversation, climbed the steps to the platform, and stood behind the podium. The representatives from the colonies fill the chamber. The presidents of the various economic unions and other dignitaries set among them. He looked at the digital timepiece embedded in his wrist. A sense of revulsion passed through him. At midnight, New York time, Cyrus banged the gavel.

“Gentlemen. Presidents and Governor Generals. Let’s bring the room to order.” A hush fell over the council floor. “Most of you know why I’ve called this emergency meeting of the council. If you haven’t seen the news, I’ll play the piece for you now. If I can draw your attention to the VID screen behind me.”

The image of Shawn Gallagher filled the VID screen hanging from the ceiling behind him. Cyrus turned up the sound. On the screen, Gallagher read the Declaration of Independence. He read the Constitution of the United States and the Bill of rights. Gallagher announced the independence of the mining colonies and announced the formation of a new republic. When the Video finished, Cyrus turned off the VID screen. Pandemonium filled the council chamber.

“I’ll have, order on the council floor!” Cyrus yelled banging his gavel. “The question before us is what to do about this son of a bitch. It is my recommendation that we squash this little man and his followers. We need to squash them like the cockroaches they are. I put before the council a military solution.”

“Mr. Chairman. The president of the European Union wishes to speak,” a gray-haired skinny man said. He stood to his feet.

Cyrus grimaced, feeling acid reflux in his throat. “The chair so recognizes the president of the European Union.”

“Mr. President, these miners have us over a barrel. They control the helium-3 and the hydrogen that powers our ships. They mine the deuterium crystals. What about our new fleet of deep space vessels? Will they be a part of this military force to rid the solar system of this rabble?”

“No. The deep-space fleet will proceed with its mission. They do hold us over a barrel by denying us hydrogen, water ice, deuterium crystals, and helium-3. That is why I propose this military campaign,” Cyrus said.

“This is folly. You saw what they did to that helium tanker. In light of the trouble on Mars, I’d think that a major military campaign would be the last thing that you’d want. I propose a limited Special Forces operation using Planetary Patrol vessels and men. Using the element of surprise, they could land on Europa and put an end to this.”

Cyrus felt the heat rising in his forehead. “Need I remind you that it’s not only Europa?”

“Mr. Chairman. The representative for Consolidated Mining wishes to speak,” a mining official jumping to his feet.

“The chair so recognizes.”

“Mr. Chairman. Why not give them what they want? We could give them limited autonomy. The fleet of tankers they abducted belongs to my company. We could demand payment for the tankers, and charge them a tax for moving the loads through our space. We could pay them for helium, hydrogen, water ice, and deuterium, but they will need goods from Earth. We could negotiate trade deals.” The room erupted into chaos.

Cyrus felt a ball of acid form in his stomach. His cheeks reddened in anger and his hands white-knuckled the podium. These spineless bastards are going to let this rabble have their way. The council went back and forth debating the issue well into the early hours of the morning. By the time they reached a decision, Cyrus Bonelli felt like resigning in frustration.

***

Captain Chambers sat in his chair on the command platform of the Port Royal. Next to him, in the first officer’s chair, sat his friend and new first officer, Craig Bannister. A cold chill shot down Chambers’ back. I wish they’d turn up the damn heat. He gazed down at the technicians manning the workstations on the bridge. The workstations consisted of computer panels and virtual keyboards. Cushioned chairs were set at each station for the operator.

His eyes roving the bridge, Chambers looked at the helm. He took in the weapons station, to the left of the helm. The chief weapons specialist directed fire communication with the weapons center. His eyes kept moving, taking in the engineering station, to the right of the helm. The engineering specialist communicated with the chief engineer in the engine room. One of the technicians, working on a computer, let out a curse. Chambers’ eyes drifted to the communications officer’s station. It set in front of the engineering specialist station, but slightly to his right. It filled space on the fore bulkhead next to the main viewscreen. I’m supposed to be in charge of all this? Somehow I don’t feel up to the task.

Chambers’ eyes moved to the left of the main viewscreen. A large bank of computer screens and other instruments occupied much of the bulkhead. He took in the science officer’s station. His eyes locked onto the main viewscreen occupying the entire foreword bulkhead. Space, the wonder of it all. A thrill shot through him.

Chambers drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair. He waited for the traffic controller to allow them to leave the spacedock. They would soon join the fleet for space trials. Chambers and, Banister had been on board the Port Royal for seventy-two hours. It had been an eventful three days.

“Hurry up and wait,” Chambers said.

“That’s the navy way,” Banister said. “Patience, Captain.”

“Patience, hell. I want to kill something!” Chambers yelled in mock seriousness and they both laughed. He felt like a little kid on a grand adventure. His mind drifted back to his first morning on board the ship.

“Captain Chambers, this is your zero five hundred wakeup call. The kitchen staff will serve breakfast in the officers’ mess at zero six hundred hours. After breakfast, I’ll give you and Mr. Banister a tour of the ship, sir,” the voice of Ensign Palmer said. It came over the small speaker next to the captain’s bed. Chambers woke from a deep slumber, rolled out of bed placing his feet on the floor. He knuckled sleep from his eyes. Goose flesh beaded up on his arms and legs.

“All right. Thank you. I’m up.”

“Very well. Carry on sir,” Palmer said and ended the transmission.

“Lights on.” His cabin lights turned on. He rose to his feet, took his black robe along with a black pair of slippers from his seabag, and put them on. Dressed in his robe and slippers, he stumbled to the food and beverage station. “Coffee, Black.” A cup dropped into a slot, the coffee started brewing and a few seconds later, scalding hot coffee filled the cup. He took the cup, the warm cup feeling good in his cold hands, from the machine. Chambers stumbled over to the table in the center of his cabin, sat down, and took the first tentative sip of the hot liquid. “That’s what I’m talking about.” The hot coffee chased the cobwebs of sleep from his mind and after drinking two cups, he stepped into the shower.

“Water, hot. Vigorous massage.” The water in the shower turned on, Chambers lathered up his muscled body and then rinsed off. “Blow dry,” he said to the room’s computer. Hot jets of air hit his body drying him off. Stepping out of the shower, he headed back to the main cabin, took out a fresh uniform, and put it on. Dressed, he went to the room’s computer control panel. He set the computer system from voice-activated to, voice-activated audible response. From the list of personality choices, he chose, sensual, female. He entered the name, Mary Ann and entered his, own name under room occupant.

“Hello Mary Ann,” he said after setting the controls.

“Hello, Captain. How may I assist you?” a seductive female voice came over the room’s speakers in response.

“I’m fine Mary Ann. I’m checking out the system.” He went to the beverage station and retrieved another cup of coffee, polished his boots, and shined his brass belt buckle between occasional sips of coffee. Finished with his boots and buckle, he put on his boots and adjusted his uniform. He looked at the timepiece embedded in his wrist. It read 0558. The door chime rang. He stepped to the door. The door opened. Lieutenant Palmer and First Officer Bannister stood in the hallway.

“Are you ready for some breakfast sir?” Palmer asked.

“Boy Howdy. I’m about as hungry as an anorexic polar bear,” Chambers said.

“Right. If you’ll follow me, sir.” Palmer led them down the dim hallway.

“Did someone forget to pay the light bill? And why is it so cold in the hallway?” Chambers asked.

“The lights in the hallway are dim to simulate early morning. They’ll get brighter as the day goes by. The engineers turn the heat down in the corridors in the wee hours to conserve energy.”

“Interesting. How’d you sleep?” Chambers asked Bannister.

Banister shrugged. “Like a baby. How about you?”

“Like the dead. How’d you set your room’s computer?”

Banister grinned. “Female sensual with a French accent. I love a woman with a French accent.”

Chambers laughed. “I set mine to sensual, female American.”

“A deck not only consists of the bridge and officers’ mess. It also houses the PX, sickbay, and the officers’ pub. Our fitness center and recreational complex are also on A deck. It consists of a bowling alley, a movie theater, a concert hall, a sports arena, and a swimming pool. There is also a hot tub. There are several other pubs on this deck besides the officers’ pub. The bordello is at the end of the hallway,” Palmer said and led them down the main corridor toward the officers’ mess.

Chambers’ bottom jaw dropped. “The bordello? You mean there’s a whore house on board ship?”

“The brass prefers the term Comfort Station. This is a Deep Space Battle Cruiser. It will be away from Earth for years at a time. Military REGs frown on fraternization among the ship’s military personnel. They realize that people have needs. The comfort girls, and the people working in the PX or at the REC center or in the pubs, work for an outside contractor. They are there to serve the needs of the service. Fraternization with contracted personnel is okay.” Palmer stepped into the officers’ mess. Chambers and Bannister followed. A few low-ranking officers sat at the various tables. They gave Chambers and Bannister the once over. Palmer grabbed a metal tray moving down the serving line. Chambers and Bannister picked up their trays and followed. Food workers piled scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and a stack of pancakes onto their trays. A man in his fifties with short gray hair stepped out of the kitchen. He approached the three officers and snapped off a salute.

“Captain Chambers. First Officer Bannister. Welcome aboard. I am Mess Sergeant Austen Jones. I hope you gentleman enjoy your meal.”

“If it tastes as good as it smells I’ll be happy,” Chambers said.

“If there is anything you need, don’t be afraid to ask.” At the end of the serving line, Chambers poured himself a cup of coffee and they found a seat. On the table, set a pitcher of orange juice, Maple syrup, salt, and pepper shakers. Chambers poured himself some orange juice and poured Maple Syrup over his hotcakes. Taking a bite from the stack of pancakes, he savored the first morsel in his mouth.

“This food is delicious. How can the mess hall maintain this level of proficiency, once we’ve been, at space for a year or more?” Chambers asked.

“The ship is self-sufficient. We grow and raise, our food down on the farm. I’ll show you after we eat. I’m sure the chief horticulturist will give you the grand tour,” Palmer said.

“Interesting. I’d enjoy seeing this farm,” Bannister said. Finished with breakfast, Palmer led them out of the officers’ mess. They headed down the hallway. Palmer showed them the PX, the sickbay, and the fitness center. He showed them the recreation facilities and the security center. Palmer gave them a tour of the science labs, the fire station, and the damage control center. The last place they saw on A-deck was the bordello. Chambers noticed a few young women in skimpy attire sitting at a bar drinking. He breathed in the smell of perfume. The madam in charge took them on a tour. She explained to the captain that all the girls had regular medical checkups. She said that they were free of any sexually transmitted diseases and said that they were there to support the troops.

After leaving the bordello, Palmer led Chambers and Bannister to the turbo lifts. They boarded a lift and headed down into the bowels of the ship. “We’re passing decks A-1, A-2, and A-3 which consists of officers sleeping berths. The officers’ cabins are slightly bigger than the Non-Com quarters. The Non-Com quarters are further below,” Palmer said. Palmer gave them a tour of the shuttle bay, the cargo bay, and the weapons center. Further, into the bowels of the ship, he showed them the Fleet Marine decks. The decks housed their onboard training facilities, office complex, and troop berthing area. The troop area was empty, except for a couple of officers in the officers’ complex. Palmer introduced Chambers and Bannister to the Fleet Marine commander.

Below the Fleet Marine area, was the crew berthing area for the Navy enlisted personnel. One deck below this lay the engine room. Palmer showed off the fusion reactor and the gravity generator. He showed them the huge compressors that provided the ship’s oxygen. Palmer introduced the captain and first officer to the chief engineer. The last stop of the tour was the farm.

Chambers stepped out of the turbo lift and stood in the center of the deck. He gazed about in awe breathing in the rich aroma of animal dung. On the aft end of the deck set several pens where cattle and sheep grazed. He saw an area housing chickens and turkeys. There was a vast field of vegetables and several water tanks. His eyes wandered to an office complex occupying the fore-end of the deck. An older white-headed man wearing a white lab coat approached them.

“Hello, Captain. I’m Chris Webster. Chief horticulturalists. Would you like a tour of the farm?”

“I’d love one.” The horticulturist showed them the lab area where they cloned the embryos. He showed them where they raised the animals until they were old enough to graze on their own. Then he showed them the meat house where they butchered the animals and processed the meat.

“What are these water tanks for?” Chambers asked.

“The four vertical tanks, which are open on the top, are our fish ponds. We raise a variety of freshwater and saltwater fish, plus lobsters and scrimp. Those large circular tanks standing horizontally are the ship’s water supply. The building next to those tanks is the water treatment facility. Every drop of water used onboard the ship gets recycled.”

“You mean that last cup of coffee I drank came from piss water?”

The white-haired horticulturist laughed. “No. The wastewater gets broken down to its purest form. The water in your coffee came from pure H2o. Even the solid waste generated on the ship is, used. We use it as fertilizer to grow our crops. The growth cycles are every three weeks. Every three weeks we slaughter the meat-bearing animals and bring in a vegetable crop. We use growth hormones. We grow our, own feed for the animals. It is very self-sufficient. We can supply the ship’s personnel with a well-balanced diet indefinably. That concludes the tour, Captain. Do you have any questions? If not, I’m sure you have other duties you’d like to attend to.”

“You might want to check the ship personnel records or compile a duty roster. We’re short on people, right now. I’m sure there are things you need to do to prepare for the admiral’s briefing,” Palmer said.

“Yes. Let’s head topside. Duty calls.” They headed for the turbo lifts.

Chambers and Bannister rode the turbo lift down to the shuttle bay at nineteen hundred and thirty hours ship time. They scheduled a shuttle flight to the CEU Saratoga for the admiral’s briefing.

“Are you ready?” Bannister asked.

Chambers laughed. “I’m about as nervous as a two-dollar whore in church, but I’m ready. Right now, the ship is so understaffed that I do not see how he expects us to do any space trials. I have duty rosters from the department heads and I have a list of all personnel on board. I have status reports from every department head.”

Banister gripped Chambers’ arm. “You’ll do fine. This is only a shakedown cruise. We’ll have a full boat when we launch the actual mission.” The doors to the turbo lift opened, they stepped into the launch bay and a young pilot stood up giving them a salute.

“Captain Chambers. First Officer Bannister, your shuttle waits.”

“Lead the way,” Chambers said. The shuttle pilot led them through an airlock, onto the shuttle bay, and led them to the captain’s shuttle setting in the center of the launch bay.

“If you gentlemen will find yourselves a seat and strap in, we’ll take off shortly.” They sauntered up the boarding ramp onto the shuttle. The pilot headed forward through a small hatchway to the cockpit. Chambers and Bannister sat down in a row of seats facing the fore-end of the shuttle. Behind them set the captain’s lounge. The pilot’s voice came over the PA system calling the launch control center.

“Captain’s shuttle to launch control, request permission to launch.”

“Captain’s shuttle you are a go for launch out of tube three in ninety-second. You may proceed to launch gate three,” the launch control officer said. They felt the shuttle move into position. Buzzers ring throughout the launch bay.

“All personnel clear the launch bay.” The voice of the launch control officer came over the speaker once more. “Port Royal captain’s shuttle you are clear to launch.” Gee forces pushed them back into their seats as the shuttle shot down the launch tube and out to space.

Their shuttle landed on the launch bay of the CEU-Saratoga a few minutes later. Chambers and Bannister gazed out a porthole in awe at the size of the shuttle bay. When the launch control restored oxygen to the launch bay, they disembarked. A young naval ensign met them at the exit ramp.

“Gentleman. I am Ensign Hamilton. Admiral Ivanov requests that you meet him in the officers’ mess. He has a banquet prepared. If you would follow me.”

“Lead the way,” Chambers said. The ensign led them through an airlock to a turbo lift on A deck and then led them down to the officers’ mess. They stepped into the mess hall. For a few seconds, Chambers stood staring about. Tables covered with silk tablecloths and fine china filled the room. The officers of the new fleet sat at tables throughout the mess hall. They engaged in light conversation while drinking wine from expensive goblets. Stewards poured drinks and brought appetizers before the main course. They catered to the officers’ every need. The smell of delicious food permeated the room causing Chambers’ stomach to rumble.

“Captain Chambers and First Officer Bannister. If you will follow me, I’ll show you to your table,” a black steward at the doorway said. They followed him through the crowded dining hall.

“This is some fancy, doings,” Chambers said.

“I know you’d rather be sitting somewhere eating a greasy burger with your sleeves rolled up. At least try to act civilized.” The stewards brought plates filled with boiled lobster. Others brought plates filled with roast beef and mashed potatoes. Still, others filled their goblets with wine. Bannister spread a napkin across his lap. Chambers tossed his napkin aside and dug in with abandonment.

Banister shook his head. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

After the meal, Admiral Boris Ivanov stood before the assembled officers.

“Gentleman. If you haven’t seen the news, I’ll play a clip for you that aired on the VID-net last night.” He turned on the VID screen on the bulkhead behind him. The image of Shawn Gallagher filled the screen. They watched him declare independence and announce the formation of the New Republic. A hush fell over the mess hall. When the VID clip finished playing, Admiral Ivanov turned off the VID screen.

“That man’s face looks familiar,” Chambers whispered to Bannister.

“How will this affect our mission?” one of the officers asked.

“It shouldn’t affect it at all. The Navy has other ships and troops to deal with the situation. Rumor has it that they are going to use the PPF forces. When our launch window arrives, the planets in our solar system will be in alignment. We will use Jupiter’s orbit to sling-shot us to the outer edges of the solar system. If these rabble-rousers give us any problem, we’ll destroy them. If they don’t, we’ll leave them for others to deal with.” Ivanov took a drink of wine from his goblet and continued. “You have all chosen to dedicate your lives and careers to the Federal Defense. Don’t expect to see home for quite some time. Sitting before you at the table is your orders. Once we leave the solar system, we will split the fleet. I will take half the fleet to system 23595. Admiral Larsen will lead the rest of the fleet to Alpha Centauri. Our mission is to contact any alien life forms that we encounter. We are to establish trade and secure new technologies as well as habitable worlds to colonize. There are other civilizations out there. I would like to make peaceful contact with them and form alliances.”

Ivanov turned the VID screen back on. He hit the still frame mode and started a slide show. “These images are from the archived rubble of the old regime. These slides show evidence that aliens from out of our solar system have visited Earth in its past.” On the screen, images of a flying disk appeared. Ivanov clicked to the next image. It showed a gray alien with an egg-shaped head, cat-like eyes, and gray rubbery skin.

“These are the grays. These may be some of the sentient beings we will find. Our scientists found some references to some species known as the Paladins. They are some type of Nordic humanoid race, but who knows? Gentlemen, we are about to make history.”

“How long will we be at space?” someone asked.

“Twenty-five years. We expect twelve years of travel time there and back, plus a year on station. Space trials will begin in three days.” A collective sigh came from the room. “I wish we had the technology as they showed in the old regimes’ entertainment shows. It would be convenient to pop across the galaxy using warp drive. It would be like Captain Kirk in the old television show known as Star Trek. So far, that technology eludes us. Our scientists are working on similar technologies to bend space and time.”

Admiral Ivanov opened the floor to questions. There were quite a few, but it was a more somber crowd that exited the mess hall after the mission briefing. Admiral Ivanov took his visiting officers on a tour of his war room after the briefing. The war room consisted of an upper deck above the main bridge. It had a clear hardened dome overhead instead of a metallic hull. With the magnification of the clear dome, he could see all the ships in the fleet. In the center of the war room, set a long table. The table’s surface consisted of a computer screen. The holographic images of each ship in the fleet appeared on the screen. Computer consoles and workstations occupied the bulkheads on the edges of the dome.

“I wanted you gentleman to see this,” Ivanov said. He motioned to the exterior of the clear super-hardened dome. Chambers and Bannister stared in awe at the massive vessels surrounding them.

***

The voice of the traffic controller brought Chambers’ mind back to the present. It reverberated throughout the bridge coming from the communications officer’s station.

“Traffic Control to the Port Royal. You are clear to leave the spacedock. Watch for incoming traffic. Have a pleasant voyage,” the controller said.

Chambers flipped the com switch on the arm of his chair. He overrode the communications officer’s station. “Roger, Traffic Control. We’ll see you in three months.” Chambers looked at the technician at the communications officer’s station. “Contact engineering. Have them blow the docking bolts.” A bang reverberated through the ship’s hull when the explosive bolts blew. The Port Royal drifted from the docking bay. Chambers looked at the technician manning the helm. “Take us out easy. Let’s form up with the fleet.”

“Aye Captain,” the technician said and pulled the ship forward.

Chambers looked at Banister and grinned. “Are you ready to see what this bucket can do?”

“You better believe it.” A grin crossed Banister’s face as well. The Port Royal moved away from the spacedock and took its place with the fleet. The new fleet, along with its support vessels, took a turn around the globe and then broke orbit heading to deep space.

***

Hello everyone, I hope you are having a