SUNGLASSES AND ROCKETS Part 1 : New Moon

NAVSTAR

I had not been able to make out the girl's face. However, I knew she had seen me. My heart had come back to life. And it had been because of her. Yes, my healing was underway.

I took a seat in the first row and looked out of the little window, trying not to lose sight of the stylish girl. The bus pulled away.

"Colonel," the doctor said to the driver, "To the Hotel Antigua, please."

I could still see the girls as they got into a car. That was all. I turned to the doctor.

"Who was that hippie in the park?" I asked, intrigued.

"Professor Nicolson."

"Professor Nicolson?" I repeated in an alarmed voice.

"You see, Gordo, we can't access the silo at just any old time; there are NAVSTAR satellites guarding the entrance every six hours."

"But supposedly we're going to an abandoned Cave," I replied, disconcerted.

"Sure, but even so, they're keeping strict watch from space over the area."

"Which means that Professor Nicolson...is going to deactivate the satellite signal?"

"Kind of. We'll have a 20-minute window of time to get in..."

"And to get out of the silo? Will that also be 20 minutes?"

"Five minutes."

I just looked at the doctor, not knowing what to say.

"Don't worry, Gordo. Getting out of the silo is easy. I have no doubts that you, like Darwin, will manage to do it..."

Holy cow!

"Colonel Croft will take you back to the Hotel Antigua," he continued.

"Colonel Croft?"

The doctor motioned discreetly towards the driver.

"At 1:33 a.m. you will have completed your mission," he went on.

"And you and Felix Gonzales will be on your way to the Moon..."

The doctor nodded his head.

"We'll be entering the silo at one in the morning?" I interrogated worriedly.

Just then, Felix handed him some papers.

"At 1:08," he specified.

He immediately began to read.

"What else should I know about the plan?" I asked, to get my thoughts together.

The doctor continued analyzing the documents.

"Nothing else," he responded. "You go in the silo and you go out. That's all."

"A report?" I ventured to ask, looking towards the sheets of paper.

"No," Moses Masterton responded, highlighting some paragraphs with his pen. "This is my speech."

"Speech?"

"The reception's in my honor. I should say a few words to the audience."

"I see."

The doctor finished highlighting a couple of papers and handed them over to me.

"Shall I look after them for you?"

"That would be good. It's your speech."