After he signed off the radio, Wen and his brother Ming watched as the remaining team members took proper formation near the damaged section of the station corridor and began to sever the piece from the rest of the structure.

"This will be the fifth and sixth member to die on that particular team," Wen said. "That team was already dangerously short on men and I don't expect back-ups to be sent anytime soon. Do you think we should distribute the remaining men of that team among the other construction teams?"

Ming thought for a moment, clearly unhappy with what the deaths of these two men meant to the overall direction of their mission.

"The teams are unorganized enough," Ming responded. "The men clearly should have gone through more extensive training."

"I agree but there was no time. We could not let the Americans get a bigger jump on us than they already did," Wen said. "I take it you don't think the men should be separated?"

"No, we should not endanger the rest of the squads by adding new members to each," Ming said. "But we can't simply stop using this short-staffed team. We must add one more person to this team to put them at fuller strength."

Wen knew where his brother was going but did not want to accept the inevitability. Therefore, he pretended not to know what Ming was about to suggest.

"Who should we put on this team? Someone from the other teams?" Wen asked.

"Come now, brother," Ming said. "We are twins. We've been reading each other's minds since we were small boys; don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about. I will go and join their team for the time being. I've had as much space training as the rest of the men so I am more than qualified."

Wen did not like losing his second-in-command, and he especially did not like putting his brother in the same danger as the other men. But Ming was always the smarter of the two and would be sure to keep himself out of harm's way. Besides, the move was necessary if they wanted to maintain the fast pace of construction they had already set.

It did not take long for the two trapped men to realize what was happening. The team leader instructed his crew to begin cutting off the damaged end of the corridor before further damage was done. The men on the team also realized the dire consequences for their fellow crewmembers but did not hesitate to follow orders.

The screams and pleas of the doomed men echoed throughout the earpieces of every man on the team. Their pleas would haunt many of the men for the rest of their days, but not a single astronaut was brave enough to voice objection to what they were doing. Instead, the men worked in relative silence, trying to quickly sever the damage before greater harm was caused to the station.

Less than an hour after the original accident, the problem had been fixed, the last of the damaged corridor cut away. The aluminum tomb slowly began to drift away into deep space. Many of the men had stopped what they were doing to watch their fellow crewmembers fade into the distance. Every man knew that he could end up in the same disastrous situation one day.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR.

JUNE 25, 2016.

FOUR YEARS, ONE MONTH, TWENTY-EIGHT DAYS UNTIL IMPACT...

Three weeks after his visit to the underground bunker in the Ural Mountains, James Armour finally found enough of a break in his busy schedule to fly to upstate Washington, where the third comet shelter was being built. Armour did not expect Tyler Ainsworth to meet him with the same enthusiasm President Metachenko had. After reaching the gate of the construction facility, it took less than a minute for the Secretary of Defense to realize he was correct.

Maybe I should've called ahead to warn him I was coming, Armour thought, as the guard at the gate refused to let his car into the facility.

President Marshall and Peter Mansfield assured Armour that the best way to handle Ainsworth was through surprise visits. Nobody in the 'Inner Circle' believed the owner of Ainsworth Industries was trustworthy. Therefore, giving him too much warning before their arrival would only give Tyler more time to scheme and hide things he did not want them to know about.

Rather than argue with the security guard and try giving him the 'do you know who I am?' speech, Armour convinced him to place a call to Tyler's assistant and inform him that Armour was here. Less than three minutes later, Tyler and his assistant hurriedly drove a golf cart toward the front gate.

"Mr. Armour, I wish I had known you were coming," Tyler said, extending his hand to James. "Marc, get off the cart."

Tyler's assistant stood from the small vehicle and Tyler patted the seat for Armour to sit. The golf cart soon zoomed toward the large construction hangar. Marc followed on foot.

"To what do I owe this visit?" Tyler asked, his words friendly but his tone of voice clearly not.

"The same as any visit," Armour said. "I'm here to check in and view the progress made on your craft. I'm also here to address any concerns or thoughts about the seacraft you might have."

As Tyler approached the entrance to the hangar, the large security guard at the door pushed a button to open the door. Tyler hardly slowed the cart before entering the huge building.

"Are you sure you aren't here to make further demands? After your friend Mansfield's last visit, I'm nervous every time I hear from one of my friends in the government," Tyler said. The way Tyler said the word friends reminded Armour of a hissing snake.

Once inside the hangar, Armour saw the astonishing view of the outwardly completed seacraft. The last time Armour saw the craft in person, Ainsworth was out of money and only had a half-completed shell of a seacraft to show for it. That visit hadn't been very long ago but the progress made on the craft told a different story. Armour saw pictures of the completed craft and heard second-hand accounts from Mansfield about the way Tyler ran his men, but nothing short of seeing this sight did the vehicle proper justice.

After seeing the awe-inspiring bunker constructed by the Russians, Armour was hard pressed to ever be equally impressed. But if anything could come close, this craft was it. He recovered from his momentary admiration and responded to Tyler's scathing remarks.

"First of all, Peter Mansfield is not a friend," Armour said, surprised that he was making his disdain for the Chief of Staff known. "But no, I'm not here to make further demands. I'm merely here to observe, like I said before."

"Good, because I don't think I could give in to anything else you or the President might demand," Tyler said. "I still don't appreciate the way your 'Inner Circle' ambushed me the last time. I remain strongly opposed to the demand for half the passenger spots on board."

While Tyler continued to act like he had power over this situation, Armour observed his surroundings. He saw very few construction workers milling about; the hangar appeared mostly empty. This was in stark contrast to Mansfield's description of the work efforts of the construction crew.

Armour had many answers he needed and did not want to be inundated by empty threats from this kid. Therefore, Armour put Tyler's complaints and angry diatribes to rest right now.

"I'm not the President and I'm not Peter Mansfield," Armour stated forcefully. "And even more, I'm not interested in hearing your opinions on what you think is fair or not. Things are the way they have to be, our demands are the way they have to be, and no amount of complaining will change that. So just deal with it.

"Look at your seacraft. It's one of the most amazing works of construction I've seen in all my years of public service. You should be thankful that the deal you made with us allowed you to finish construction."

The golf cart squealed to a stop just before reaching a platform leading inside. Tyler laughed loudly, a bit too dramatically for Armour's tastes.

"Finished?" Tyler asked incredulously. "We are merely done with the first stage of construction, or what I like to think is the easy part."

Now I'm getting somewhere, Armour thought, finally prying some needed information out of Tyler.

"Then show me what's going to be the hard part."

Armour followed Tyler up the ramp and into the craft. Tyler gave a quick tour of the bottom level, showing Armour the closet-sized rooms that would one day hold five people each. There were numerous bathrooms, locker rooms and mess halls on this level as well, but the small room and cramped areas did not appear to match the brilliance of the craft's exterior.

Many rooms were also empty of beds and other furniture, which still needed to be bought and added. Money, and especially the lack of it, was central to Tyler's tour and his future plans for furnishing this area. Toward the back of the lower level, Tyler led Armour into the huge storage area where the control room for the engines would be located. Armour estimated that this control room probably took up half the space in the lower level. Again, Ainsworth did not go into many specifics about this area, except to note that the engines were going to cost him a lot more money than he currently had.

Although the craft was huge, Tyler's tour of the lower level and its confined, winding hallways took less than five minutes, which led Armour to believe this would not hold many passengers.

"How many people do you plan on living down here? Fifty or so?" Armour asked, guessing that one-tenth of the maximum capacity would live here.

"More like 250," Tyler responded.

"But that's half of the proposed passengers living in only a quarter of the space," Armour said, wondering how much thought Tyler put into his answer. "There's no way that many people would fit in such a small area."

"Believe me, we've already figured out the spacing and living quarters," Tyler explained. "Not only is it possible for half the people to live down here, that's the way it will bethat I can guarantee."

"But if you planned on 250 people living in this area, you could certainly fit more than another 250 on the upper level," Armour said.

Tyler smiled. Armour knew he did not like what that smile entailed.

"Just wait until you see the upper level," Tyler said. "Not a single person more than 250 would fit up there."

Tyler led Armour through the maze of lower level hallways. They reached a stairwell and climbed to the upper level, strolling the halls until reaching a room that resembled the lobby of a large hotel. Although this room was mostly empty, a nearby easel displayed a detailed drawing of what the room would eventually resemble.

"This will of course be the main social setting for my passengers," Tyler said proudly.

Armour looked around the huge room, glancing from the detailed drawing to the empty spaces, visualizing what would one day be filled in. Armour could envision every detail and was deep in thought when interrupted by a voice that sounded somewhat familiar.

"Tyler, I've been looking all over for you," the voice of an approaching man said. The man was short and had dark hair. Upon closer inspection, Armour felt certain he'd never seen him before. When the man saw that Tyler was not alone, he immediately stopped and looked nervous. Armour saw Tyler and the small man exchange a momentary glance.

"Mr. Armour, this is one of my workers, Nigel Huffington," Tyler said, making the introductions.

Nigel hesitantly approached Armour and extended his hand. While the two men shook hands, Armour noticed the small man made a conscious effort to look away. Nigel had rough, strong hands but did not look or dress like Armour expected from a construction worker.

"I'm sorry for interrupting your meeting," Nigel said. When Nigel spoke this time, Armour thought he heard the hint of a British accent he hadn't noticed before. "I will catch up with you later, Mr. Ainsworth."

Armour could not place the strange face or the voice, but still thought there was something vaguely familiar about him.

"You don't have to rush away," Armour said, hoping the man would stay long enough to figure out who he was or where he knew him. "You aren't interrupting anything urgent."

Nigel seemed lost for words and still refused to look directly at Armour.

"Please go back to work, Nigel," Tyler commanded. "I will find you later to discuss problems your men might be having."

Without speaking another word, Nigel turned and quickly hurried off. Armour watched him leave the lobby and disappear into one of the numerous hallways. Although Armour still had much of the upper level to see, he had a feeling the tour would avoid crossing paths with Huffington again.

"He seemed worried about something," Armour said. "And he didn't look like a typical construction worker. What's his story?"

"Who, Nigel? He's nobody," Tyler said, deflecting Armour's attempt to pry information.

"I would like to know about some of the people who've helped build this place. Besides, I detected an accent from that guy. I didn't know there was anyone from overseas working for you," Armour said. "This Huffington, what kind of job does he do?"

Tyler paused a moment and realized Armour was not going to drop the subject.

"You could say Nigel acts as a liaison between some of the workers and me," Tyler said. "A sort of consultant."

Huffington did not seem like the kind of person Armour might know, so he finally forgot the small man. Armour looked around the room for another minute before he had his fill of the lobby.

"This room should be amazing once finished," Armour said. "But I'm ready to see the rest of your upper level."

While the tour of the bottom level of the seacraft took less than ten minutes, Tyler Ainsworth took much more pride in the upper level. Every empty, uncompleted room contained detailed drawings and sketches of what the room would eventually look like. The more rooms Armour saw, the more he realized the huge lobby would not be the only luxurious part of the craft.

If Tyler's vision became reality, this craft would have it all. Two separate gyms, a restaurant (which would serve strictly seafood), a library, a bar, a game room and a twenty-seat movie theater were the highlights of the tour. And that did not even include the actual living quarters for the passengers, designed to be as elegant as Tyler's room. While the craft could never equal the Russian bunker in size or protection, it certainly outgunned the underground shelter in terms of luxury and extravagance.

Even if the massive rooms were a big waste of space.

"Don't get me wrong," Armour said. "If you were using this seacraft for an underwater cruise line, what you have planned for your upper level could never be matched in terms of opulence. But you're not building a cruise ship, so all of these amenities seem wasteful when you can build more rooms and save more people."

"That's where our opinions differ, Mr. Armour. That's why the philosophy of you and the President will never be similar to my own. You've envisioned your massive space station to hold as many survivors as possible. The main goal for you is to survive.

"My main goal is to thrive. From the moment I dreamed of building the seacraft, I refused to design it simply as a place where thousands of people would be crammed into a small area. I want to be comfortable and I want my guests to be comfortable as well. If the world is going to end, I want my survivors to enjoy being the last of humankind, not suffer because of it."

"But what about your lower level? That doesn't seem like a fun place to live," Armour countered.

"As I'm sure you've realized with your space station, change is inevitable in any major project. I wish I could've designed a ship where all 500 passengers would live in abundance, but that just wasn't possible. Don't worry, the people you choose to live on board my craft will have a similar experience as the people you choose to live aboard the space station," Tyler said.

The tour concluded once they reached Tyler's room. Instead of entering, they wandered toward the second exit just down the hall. At the exit, another platform gradually led down fifty feet to the ground.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Armour? I have a lot of work to finish," Tyler said, clearly in a rush to end the tour.

Armour saw Tyler glance over his shoulder at the door next to his private room. Again, Armour had the feeling something was being kept from him but his purpose for coming today was not to solve mysteries. He was here to inspect the craft and obtain relevant information to report to the President.

"I appreciate you taking the time to show me around," Armour said, trying to remain friendly though he knew Tyler wanted him gone. "But there are just a few more things I'd like to discuss."

Tyler sighed and looked down at his watch.

"Do you think you have a realistic shot at having the craft seaworthy in less than four years?" Armour asked.

"After your earlier lecture, I've been trying to avoid the topic of money," Tyler said. "But if you're going to ask me this kind of questions, I have to mention that my current cash flow is a serious problem. I've stretched my remaining funds and used it to hire a company to design and develop the monstrous engines needed to propel my craft. I'm afraid the money needed to build and install them far exceeds my current bankroll. And that's saying nothing of my interior design plans, which will also cost millions to finish. Regardless of your opinion on my lavish plans for furnishings, my craft will be built the way I want, no matter the cost."

"Which brings me back to my original question. Will you finish before the comet strikes?"

"If I procure the money in a reasonable timeframe, then yes, I will finish," Tyler answered.

"My reason for visiting today wasn't to authorize the transfer of more government money to Ainsworth Industries," Armour said. "I'm sure it could be arranged but our demands would obviously be for more passengers."

"That is something I'm not willing to give up," Tyler said.

"Nothing in life is free, Mr. Ainsworth," Armour said, extending his hand. The two men shook. "Thank you for your time, I can show myself out."

Armour did not even take one step off the craft when he saw Tyler turn around and rush away.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE.