CHAPTER NINE.

June 6, 2013 Sweat poured down the face of Wesley Maddox. But even if the young executive was not in the Arizona desert's hundred-degree heat, his tension and stress would have produced equal amounts of perspiration. He inhaled deep amounts of cigarette smoke into his lungs, trying to finish an entire Marlboro in the short time it took him to walk from one construction hangar to the next. Although he was the most important man on the one-square mile complex, his jeans and plain white T-shirt made him appear more blue-collar than white.

At the age of 32, Maddox was the youngest executive ever at McNalley & Jones, an engineering firm based in Houston, Texas, that specialized in using the newest technology for their projects. While garnering lavish praise for the imaginative projects they'd designed, the innovative company had never been able to come up with a new concept that broke into mainstream society. In fact, McNalley & Jones could hardly be considered profitable, as it hovered on the brink of bankruptcy for its twelve years of existence. Had it not been for the loyalty of its employees, who valued the ability to think creatively over the size of their paychecks, the company never would have gotten as far as it did.

When President Marshall announced that the contract for a super space station would be given to the private company with the best design, McNalley & Jones finally saw the chance to make their company truly great. Peter McNalley and Walter Jones decided that this was the go-for-broke opportunity they had been waiting for. The two men pooled together the company's remaining funds in one last-ditch effort to showcase the innovation of their workers. The two men knew were staking the future of their fledgling company on a long shot but the opportunity was too incredible to pass up.

Three former NASA workers were added to the team McNalley & Jones had put together. The leader of the team was Wesley Maddox, a man who'd joined the company five years earlier after graduating with highest honors from the Rose-Hulman Institute of Technology. Maddox had his choice of nearly any engineering job in the country, with plenty of positions willing to pay six figures to start. But he chose M&J, disregarding his own potential monetary wealth for the chance to work 'outside the box.' He quickly became the 'Golden Boy' of the company and was assigned as leader of the design team on what would possibly be the most significant project the world had ever seen. His success or failure would not only make or break his career but the careers of everybody at the company.

Maddox rose to the occasion. His space station design team made the final three in the selection process. It was a proud day for Maddox and the company when their design outclassed nine others and an even prouder day when the American public voted it number one overall.

Once McNalley and Jones was awarded the contract, the company became a household name. And when Wesley Maddox was given much of the credit (and thus, much of the television exposure), the 32-year-old instantly became one of America's biggest celebrities. He graced the covers of multiple magazines and for several weeks, he could not turn on the television without seeing his face. Although it seemed his career had rapidly ascended to an astronomical level, Maddox knew he had only taken the first small step of an extremely lengthy journey.

Before he had time to bask in his newfound fame (which he quickly grew tired of), President Marshall arrived at the headquarters of M&J and delivered some sobering news. He started off by congratulating the company for a job well done but then told them that the space station needed to be built in less than seven years. This news came as a surprise to many of the workers, who had originally planned for a much lengthier timetable. Marshall assured them that grand rewards would come for a job done sooner and if M&J could not do what he demanded, he was sure one of the other companies would.

With a new timetable and an unimaginable increase in capital, McNalley & Jones hired the necessary workers, began stockpiling the necessary equipment and materials, and purchased the necessary work space, an abandoned one-square-mile airport in the middle of the Arizona desert. The compound already had four large hangars and four others were built in a matter of months. The final move made by the two company owners was to promote Wesley Maddox as the third partner of the firm, a move they hoped would make their team leader happy and allow his complete focus on the task at hand.

That had happened eight months ago, at a time when Maddox felt like he was on top of the world. Yet only months later, Maddox felt like the world was on top of him, or at least firmly implanted on his shoulders. Nothing seemed to be going right for him or the project; the only thing that kept Maddox going sometimes was the cigarette he could smoke when he rushed from one building to the next or more accurately, one problem to the next.

Plenty of golf carts zoomed around the complex but Maddox still preferred to walk wherever he went. Although two of the hangars were at the farthest outskirts of the mile-long complex, Maddox's main office (which was nothing more than an oversized trailer) was located in the direct center of construction grounds. He only had to walk a few minutes to anywhere he had to be, which meant he was always but a few minutes from dealing with any problem that might arise.

And many of them did.

Thankfully, this day had been running smoothly so far. Maddox was beginning to wonder if all the project troubles were now behind them. He'd sat in his air-conditioned office all morning, dealing with tedious paperwork, waiting for the next call to tell him that there was trouble. But the calls never came and by the time noon rolled around, Maddox decided to drop by the hangars and see how construction was proceeding. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes and a walkie-talkie before entering the outside world, where the extreme heat nearly took his breath away.

Checking on each hangar took several hours. As Maddox made his way to the last one, he could not wait to get back to his office and the air conditioning. He was almost tempted to skip the last hangar altogether, but decided against it. Once he went back to his office, he would not be able to sneak out for a smoke until the end of the day. He entered an aluminum storage tent, which was nothing more than a few huge tarps held up by a dozen poles.

Maddox cut through the tent, thankful for any shortcut that would get him out of the sun, if only for a few minutes. Dozens of stacks of aluminum were piled high underneath the tarps. Hanging light bulbs dimly lit the large supply space.

Aluminum was the main building material for the station, the metal a perfect mixture of strength, durability, affordability and light weight. It was also proven to hold up well under the extreme temperature conditions of space. Because aluminum was well known for its endurance in excessive heat, many questioned why the tent had even been constructed to shield the stockpiles from the harsh desert sun. Sand was the main reason the tent was needed to shield the metal, though. If sand adhered to the metal used in construction, durability could ultimately be compromised.

Yeah, that's great. Even though sand could screw something up, we'll put the construction site in the middle of a damn desert, Maddox thought to himself plenty of times.

No other site was this ideal, as the aridity of the desert proved to be the winning factor in choosing the locale. It's better to deal with sand than rain,, Maddox had been told. And since there was not enough time to build a whole new complex, they were forced to deal with the sand. He really grew to despise the desert and couldn't help but feel like the leader of a secret terrorist group, hiding out in this harsh environment to avoid being detected.

Maddox emerged from the opposite end of the dark tent. It took a few seconds for his eyes to readjust to the sun's brightness. The last hangar on his rounds was the one closest to the perimeter fencing near the compound's only entrance, a location that was always an added annoyance to Maddox. Today was no exception.

Dozens of flashbulbs exploded when he walked by. Media photographers tried to get any sort of new picture for news websites and blogs. For the past eight months, the media had camped outside of this area. Dozens of vans, reporters and photographers were always waiting for the moment they saw Wesley Maddox.

"Wesley! Is anything new happening?" one reporter yelled.

"How's construction going?" another asked.

"Is everything on schedule?"

Back when he viewed his growing celebrity-status as an honor during the first month of construction, Maddox tried to say at least a few words to the media on occasion. But he quickly learned that being a celebrity, especially while trying to carry out such a difficult and well-publicized job, was nothing more than a nuisance. The media was never satisfied. No matter how much Maddox tried to give them, they were always hungry for more. He talked to the reporters less and less and eventually gave up speaking to them completely. Normally he just ignored them but things were going well today and he wanted to share his good fortune.

"Just peachy," he called over to them. The reporters, who must have grown used to being ignored, seemed taken off guard by Maddox's sudden friendliness. He walked over to the fence and was met by a barrage of questions and cameras.

"When will the public be allowed to view the progress?"

"That's not up to me to decide," Maddox answered. "The government demanded that this be a closed operation. You'll have to ask them."

"How much construction has actually been completed?"

"Oh not too much," Maddox said, trying to suppress a grin. He purposely tried to give the vaguest answers possible; toying with the media seemed more enjoyable today than normal. "You know, this process is going to take a long time. We've only been working for eight months. The majority of the work we've completed is minor. It will take years before we make significant progress."

A female reporter, one who proved especially irritating to Maddox, forced her way through the growing crowd of media. The project leader immediately wished he had not stopped.

"I have sources that tell me you've taken significant steps in construction," she said, a smile on her pretty face that screamed 'I know something I'm not supposed to know.' Maddox could not help but admire the reporter's beauty. He was sure she had used her womanly assets to ascertain this secret knowledge.

I'm sure you didn't use your big...mind to find out that information. She must have gotten her claws on one of the workers and gotten him to spill the beans.

"And who's that source who knows something I apparently don't?" Maddox asked innocently.

"I'm not at liberty to say, my source wished to remain anonymous. But I heard that major pieces of the space station have already been completed, but were shown to be faulty and that-"

"Completed? Already? Believe me, I wish we could even start building some of the bigger pieces," Maddox said. The sweat on his brow was not caused solely be the sun. "Unfortunately, I must go now."

With that, he walked away, really wishing the hangar was not so close.

I could really use another cigarette.

The burly Army guard stationed at the hangar's entrance knew Maddox by sight and did not require the team leader to show him the access pass that all workers were required to wear. Security was one of the biggest concerns at the compound, as the government did not want any unauthorized individual to see or know anything that was happening with space station construction. Terrorism and sabotage were always major concerns, nearly as dangerous as overly eager undercover reporters.

Each of the huge hangars was air conditioned but because the area inside was so large, the temperature was still about ninety degrees. Compared to the outside weather, though, Maddox felt like he was in Antarctica. The interior of the hangar was noisy and hectic; dozens of skilled metalworkers labored to construct one of the 'four corners' of the space station. The huge piece of space station was nearly two stories high and required the use of several scaffolds for the workers to reach different parts of the structure. While the structure was not completed as the nosy reporter had claimed it was further along than Maddox's claim that construction had not yet begun. The woman definitely knew something she wasn't supposed to. Maddox glanced around at all of the workers, wondering which of these men had been seduced for information. Either way, Maddox did not care. The government made the demand for secrecy and he did not understand the point of keeping everything such a mystery.

"Wesley!"

A man on top of the nearby scaffold waved and yelled to the workers to take a short break. Although short and plump, the man flew down the steps of the scaffold as quickly as an Olympic hurdler. Chris Uston had been a senior member of the space station design crew and was now in charge of overseeing construction on corner piece number four. He was one of the most trusted men at McNalley & Jones, one of the few engineers at the firm who actually enjoyed the physical labor that went into the construction aspect of their designs.

"How's everything today?" Maddox asked him.

"Very good," Uston answered. "No problems whatsoever. Things have been running smoothly all week. I think we're going to get it right this time."

I hope so. I don't think the government is going to allow us a third chance if we screw up again, Maddox thought.

Although the media was being informed that the first few years of the project would be spent on pre-construction, anybody who worked within the complex fences knew differently. When the government demanded that M&J push up their timetable, Maddox knew construction would have to commence immediately.

The company no longer had a comfortable cushion of time to get things in order. Maddox had warned the government that rushing things would not result in the desired structural outcome but his warnings fell on deaf ears. Instead of taking time to make sure things were done correctly, the project was rushed; construction on the pieces for the four corners (the foundation of the entire space station) had started right away.

As Maddox expected, problems arose from the start. The quality of their original aluminum supply was the project's big predicament early, as the company making their main building material did not deliver the highest of caliber like they promised. Since sub-par aluminum had been used, the strength of the design was suddenly brought into question. The exterior of a completed corner piece of the space station was finished in only six months, but it failed every subsequent strength test, rendering months of work worthless. Tests were performed on the remaining pieces, which were in various stages of completion, and all had the same negative results.

Further investigation into the structural strength problem led to the discovery of the aluminum's poor quality, which had not been tested properly before being used. With none of the station pieces usable, the entire six months of work had to be scrapped and McNalley & Jones had to start from square one. They'd had to work extra hard the past few months to make up as much time as possible. A new aluminum supplier had been found and the never-ending problems that plagued the crew for the first six months finally seemed to be coming to an end.

"Any strength tests recently?" Maddox asked, clearly not forgetting the project's previous downfall. Maddox had expected to be fired after the company wasted so much time and money but the government and President Marshall in particular was more worried about Maddox getting things right than seeing his head roll.

"Come on, Wes. You don't actually think we would fail to do tests after what happened last time. Tests get done at least twice a day, you know that."

"Just making sure."

Uston pointed to the top of the structure, informing Maddox of the progress made in the past few days. On the pace they were working now, it would be two more months until they caught up with where they had been after the original six months. This was certainly good news, especially combined with the fact that Maddox was receiving similar news from the foremen of the other three space station 'corners.' If they kept working at this pace, the original six-month delay would almost be wiped out by the end of the year.

"We're finally getting everything back on track, aren't we?" Uston asked.

Maddox refused to say this out loud but he'd been hoping the same thing. But it was still too early to proclaim victory or even to proclaim that victory was possible.

"Mr. Maddox, are you there?" Maddox's pocket crackled, a female voice mixed with static. "Mr. Maddox, sir. There's a problem."

I knew it. I jinxed myself.

Maddox excused himself from Uston and took the walkie-talkie from his pocket, his secretary's voice still calling him.

"I'm here. What's going on?" he spoke loudly into the hand-held communicator.

"Sir, there seems to be some kind of problem with the space construction crew. I have them on the line now but they are demanding to talk to you. It seems they are threatening to walk out."

"Walk out? What the hell for?" he asked.

"They are having trouble with the training, sir," his secretary answered.

"Tell them to deal with it, we all have our problems."

"I think they're serious about leaving."

Maddox knew something had to go wrong eventually but he wasn't expecting his space construction crew to use strong-arm tactics to demand more money. At least this was the kind of problem that could be dealt with, especially since the government did not seem to mind throwing around as much money for this space station as was needed.

"Okay, keep them on the line. I'm on my way."

Maddox was paid to deal with problems, it was just a part of the job description, but he often found himself envious of workers like Chris Uston. Maddox missed the days of being able to come to work and use his engineering skills to make something out of nothing. Making a boatload of money sure was nice but Maddox found himself yearning for a simpler life.

Just picture the island, he told himself as he walked out of the sweltering hangar into the hotter outside world. Just think of lying on the beach, relaxing and soaking up the sun. But not sun this hot. In the best case scenario, even if (and that was a big 'if') everything went according to plan, Maddox still had nearly seven years until this space station would be completed. There was still at least two years of work in this smoldering desert, two more years of dealing with huge potential problems. And after those two years, he would be working in an environment that was truly dangerous.

This thought made Maddox feel like a criminal about to serve an extensive prison sentence, but no prisoner would get out of jail to such a bright future. The light at the end of his seven-year tunnel was so bright that Maddox constantly dreamed of his future. Once the space station was done, the government would pay McNalley & Jones the exorbitant fee agreed upon, from which Maddox would get a significant percentage. He would not even be 40 at that point and would be able to retire with more money than he could ever hope to spend. His plan was to buy a small, tropical island and live the rest of his life as a king but he would probably settle for an ocean-side mansion with a few servants.

Dealing with all this rigmarole will be worth it one day, he told himself as he rushed from the hangar.

When he entered the outside world, a few of the reporters began to yell questions again. The rest of them, though, watched attentively as the gates to the complex were opened for a large truck. The media workers looked tempted to rush through the gates but two armed guards dissuaded them from trying that. The trucks came a few times a day, carrying large loads of aluminum and other building materials, barely able to keep the delivery pace even with the pace of construction. The materials' tent was filled before production began and though the supplies were brought on a daily basis, the tent always seemed to be half-empty.

Instead of cutting through the tent where the truck would be unloading, Maddox took the long route back to the center of the complex. Taking the longer walk would end up saving his life.

Moments before entering the salvation of his air-conditioned trailer, Maddox heard a loud bang and nearly jumped out of his shoes. The sound of metal crashing against metal made his heart sink in fear. He rushed toward the noise and saw the delivery truck crashed into one of the tent's poles. The pole's collapse caused a domino effect on the rest; the entire tent quickly caved in. Maddox was relieved to find the potential catastrophe seemed to be nothing more than a simple mishap.

Until the fire started.

A small flame appeared in the middle of the tarp but quickly spread before Maddox's eyes. Within seconds, the entire tent was aflame. The truck driver darted away from his vehicle. The truck, still parked halfway under the tent, quickly became engulfed in flames as well.

"Security!" Maddox yelled into the walkie-talkie. "We have a fire at the supply tent."

He knew security could do nothing about this but felt the need to warn somebody about the fire. Within minutes, a dozen Army security personnel were surrounding Maddox. They all stood in shocked silence and watched the fire grow in intensity.

"What the hell are we going to do?" Maddox finally said. "It'll take forever to get fire rescue out here in the middle of nowhere."

"I've already taken the liberty of calling the water bombing planes," the head of security said. "They will be inbound within minutes, sir."

To Maddox's surprise, plans had apparently been made by security in case of several emergencies. He hadn't known the protocol in dealing with fires but sure was glad somebody knew. The situation seemed hopeless just moments before but would hopefully be handled quickly. Unless, of course, the fire spread to the hangars. The desert winds always swirled around and there was a chance they could blow the fire onto a new destructive course.

"No, sir," the head of security assured him. "I don't think any of the hangars are close enough to the tent for the fire to spread. Besides, the hangars are made of metal. I don't think they could catch fire."

"Well how the hell could the tent have caught fire in the first place? The truck knocked a pole over, it's not like there was anything electrical inside."

Before the head of security answered, Maddox realized that his last statement was wrong. Damn, just my luck that something so small and insignificant could cause this.

"Don't forget the light bulbs, sir. They were set up near the top of tarp. If the tarp fell and caused one of the sockets to short, a fire could start."

Maddox wanted to yell and scream to relieve the pressure building inside his head. But throwing a temper tantrum like a four-year-old child was not going to solve anything. He forced his mind to stop running in fifty different directions and instead focused on the problem at hand.

"I want all of the hangars around this area evacuated anyway," he ordered. "We don't take any chances around here until this fire is completely out. How long for the water planes?"

"About an hour, sir. The fire might even die down in that time."

"Okay. Evacuate Hangars 2 and 3 for the next hour. Tell the workers to take a break or go to one of the other hangars to help out or something."

The thought of all the workers made a light bulb go off in Maddox's mind: the media. From where the reporters and photographers were stationed, Maddox did not think they would have a clear view of the fire. It would be impossible to miss the crashing noise and smoke, though, and he realized the media would require some sort of explanation.

"Make sure everything gets taken care of," Maddox told the head of security as he walked toward the complex entrance. His mind rushed to come up with an excuse, finally settling on a story about a heat test that got slightly out of control. Even though the fire's true story was innocent enough, Maddox did not want any stories leaked to the public that would cause a reason to doubt the operation. Before he made it to the perimeter fencing, his pocket crackled again when he remembered the space construction crew.

"Sir," his secretary said, "the crew are all walking out now. They say they aren't going through the training any longer."

"Dammit, just tell them that they'll get however much more money they want," Maddox yelled into the walkie-talkie. His day turned awful in a matter of minutes but he was determined to deal with the problems in the quickest manner possible. No amount of bad luck was going to bring down his operation the way it had before. The fire would be put out, an excuse would be given to the media and the training crew would get their pay increases.

Simple as that, he hoped.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Maddox," the walkie-talkie crackled. "They say it isn't a money issue. They just can't do it anymore and are leaving right away."

Wesley Maddox stopped walking toward the media. Okay, I'll deal with the crew now, then come back and talk to the media. He looked at his watch. It's still early. They won't be able to run a story on the fire until later tonight. Dealing with the crew should only take a few minutes, then I'll rush right over to them.

"How is it possible that all ten of you can't handle the training?" Maddox yelled into phone. "It can't be that bad. I've already gone through some of it myself without a problem."

"No offense, Wes. But what you've gone through is no worse than going on a rollercoaster," Gerald Watson replied. "The training we're getting is a bit more severe than that. The fact is, we are all just engineers. Playing astronaut was never part of the job description. We signed on to attempt the training but none of us ever guaranteed we could make it to the end. You are going to have to get another crew together."