THE ANTARES SECRET – CHAPTER 6: Houston, Do You Copy?

Montage of Houston Astros Logo over LBJ Spece Center display and old photo of the Wright Brothers Kitty Hawk flight

The night before, the Indians lost to the Yankees in extra innings with the Bronx Bombers coming from behind, and over in the fantasy league Lucas’ Red Lions lost to the Kitty Hawks by a run. Nevertheless, in that particular morning those results felt perfect for they gave Lucas a good excuse to contact the Hawks’ manager again.

He sat down on his computer and wrote the man a message while sipping his first cup of morning coffee.

“Congratulations on the win. Looking forward to our next match. By the way, I’ll be in Houston on a business trip next week, and I see you chose the Astros’ logo for your Kitty Hawks. Are you familiar with the city? Any recommendations as to where to go for a good dinner?” he wrote.

The Houston trip was a lie but it was the only thing he could think of to get the man back on the topic which could lead to the information he was interested in. He had been to the city once for the wedding of a college friend hence he felt confident he could answer with credibility any questions regarding the fake trip. He looked once more at the written message to make sure it was perfect, and then clicked on the send button.

After showering he started his day’s work. An hour or so later he got a call from Vega.

“Hey Sweetie, good morning! What’s up?”

“Well, Mr. Dashing you,” she said in a sassy tone, “I just talked to Dalia and she told me that in her aunt’s opinion you were a real life Prince Charming during last Friday’s date(1). Not bad for a man who’s not interested.”

“Well, you know me, I always try to make the other person feel comfortable.”

“Oh come on, you’re not a sofa. You were enjoying her company and couldn’t help being your adorable and fascinating self.”

“It wasn’t on purpose Moonbeam.”

“Sure Dad, whatever you say. It’s just nice to hear about you having a good time on a date. It makes me happy. Anyway, I thought about you a lot last night.”

“Oh really! What about?”

“I was going through the old patch collection.”

“No kidding? The Apollo mission patches?”

“Yep, I could hear you explaining them to me like it was yesterday. It was a nice trip down memory lane.”

“Funny you mention that because last night I was poring over my old Space Race notebook. Weird, don’t you think?”

“We’ve always been connected. Listen, I’ve been wondering…” said Vega, “is there any way you could find out the real name of the Kitty Hawks’ manager?”

“Already on it.  I’ve had a couple of exchanges with him through the fantasy league’s messaging system.”

“Oh really? Anything interesting?”

“Well, for starters, he told me he grew up near Dayton, Ohio. Do you know who  else was born an hour away from Dayton?”

“Well, John Glenn, Neil Armstrong and Jim Lovell were born in Ohio…”

Yes, but only Armstrong grew up near Dayton.”

“Hmm, don’t jump to conclusions just yet Rocket Man. Keep talking to him. My advice is, don’t be direct. Try to make the man paint himself into a corner by asking innocent sounding questions that allow you to discard other identity options. Oh, and don’t forget, if he is who you think he is, you’re dealing with a very smart person. Don’t try to reel him in with transparent stuff. Listen, I got  to get ready for a deposition, but keep me posted. Ok?”

“Sure Moonbeam, have a great day.”

It wasn’t until after lunch that Lucas got an answer from the Kitty Hawks’ manager.

“A close one,  but I’ll take it any day :-)”, he wrote. “If you like the classic steakhouse menu your best bet is Brenner’s. It’s been there forever and for good reason.”

Lucas didn’t want to waste time in idle chat so he went straight to the point.

“What about the Kennedy Space Center? Is it worth a visit?”

“I’m guessing you mean the Lyndon B. Johnson Space Center, right?”

“Yep, sorry about that. The ‘Houston we have a problem’ one.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s a very common mistake. The LBJ Space Center is a nice visit if you’re into that sort of stuff.”

Lucas decided to go for all the marbles.

“The Space Race has always been one of my favorite topics. As a matter of fact, Apollo 14’s lunar module was called Kitty Hawk,” he wrote. “Funny that you chose the Houston Astros H logo for your Kitty Hawks. Where you aware of the connection?”

Lucas waited for an answer but the minutes passed and nothing came back. Should he interpret that as good or bad news?

Over in southwestern Ohio an old man stared at his computer pondering his next move.

 

(1)Vega talked to Lucas about this date in Chapter 1: Moonbeam.

THE ANTARES SECRET – CHAPTER 7: The Chat Check

Concept art of two persons chatting about baseball and the Moon

Before carrying on his chat with the Red Lions’ manager, the old man thought it would be a good idea to show it to his wife.

“Hey Carol, take a look at this.”

She put on her reading glasses and read the brief conversation.

“Do you think he smells a rat regarding your choice of name? ” she asked.

“I don’t know. But a little voice tells me that the question about the Apollo 14/Kitty Hawk connection is not an innocent one. He’s fishing for something.”

“So, are you going to answer him?”

“Still thinking it over… You know,  the fact that he made the association makes me wonder if he might be the person for my plan. What do you think?”

“Honey, you don’t even know what this man, or woman for that matter, does for a living. Much less whether he or she has the interest or the capabilities to come through with it. What you want done requires a very specific skill set.”

The old man pondered his wife’s statement and started typing on his computer.

“Wow, that’s a connection few people could make nowadays,” he wrote to the Red Lions’ manager. “What do you do for a living? Are you in any way related to the aerospace industry?”

The answer came fast.

“Hey, I thought I’d lost you there for a while.  I’m in advertising. The Space Race is just a hobby,” wrote the Red Lions’ manager.

The old man kept pushing the envelope.

“Are you one of those conspiracy theorists that believe the whole thing was a hoax?”

“No those are just a bunch of lunatics with too much time on their hands and and even more free space in their brain cavities,” read the answer.

The old man liked what he was reading so far and decided to probe the other end of the spectrum.

“So you’re a NASA fan huh.”

“Not exactly. I’m a fan of the astronauts and the engineers that sacrificed everything to accomplish the seemingly impossible. With regards to NASA I think the bigwigs there in the Sixties were not as truthful as they should have been with the American public and the world audience.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, that the Apollo program was successful in taking mankind to the Moon but the landings didn’t take place the way NASA wanted us to believe.”

“So… you are a conspiracy theorist?”

“I have a theory of what really transpired and it differs significantly from the ones professed by the garden variety of conspiracy theorists. Those are full of crap. If my theory is correct, it would imply that some people over at NASA coordinated efforts to bring forth a plan with the intention of making the public believe something that was not true. I guess that would be tantamount to a conspiracy at NASA. Still, to answer your question: I have a theory yes, and it involves some sort of conspiracy yes, but I refuse to describe myself as a conspiracy theorist ;-)”

“You remind me of Richard Gere tap dancing in the musical Chicago while trying to sell a tricky legal argument,” said the old man.

“Yeah, sorry about that. My daughter’s a lawyer,” said the Red Lions’ manager before adding something that caught the old man off-guard. “By the way, call me Lucas.”

Nope, not yet Mr. Lucas, thought the old man, no name from my end today. But I’ll keep asking questions for as long as you keep answering them.

“Very well, nice talking to you Lucas. Good luck in tonight’s game,” he wrote before signing off.

Lucas felt confident he was on the right track regarding the man’s identity, especially after he avoided giving his name.