"King Of The Universe"

 to be, and he had always been envious of Puchev’s recognition that he had received prior to the collapse of the Soviet Union. Having to pay millions to blackmail Soviet officials to get him to the U.S., Friedman had from the onset often made efforts to demoralize his counterpart. Though Friedman needed Puchev along with his unprecedented knowledge within the field of cryogenics, he anticipated that it would soon be himself who would one day receive all of the accolades.

Puchev soon came to accept his new role with Friedman. He had no other choice. Friedman paid him well, and besides, Puchev was broke and indebted to him. But it was their work, the potential to do prison time, and maybe worse—the possibility of being deported, that seized Puchev with overwhelming fear . . .. Not even the CIA, the FBI, nor the NSA knew . . ..

“Good luck, Commander,” said the technician dressed in a sterile white jumpsuit, as he leaned over Jason to adjust his helmet.
“Thanks,” Jason replied, while focusing in on the infusion of data and directives coming in on his headphones.

“Guidance Systems?” Jason asked, as he began the final process of examination of the Primary and Backup Systems.
“Check!” Denis stated, after he flipped a switch and took a reading.
“Back up oxygen status?” Jason asked Denis.
“That’s a go!” Commander.
“Wind shear and any local electrical storm formations?”
“No signs of impacting wind shear and lightening cell formation. It’s comfortably off some twenty miles, Commander,” The NASA Meteorologist at the Cape answered.

“REMEMBER JASON, THE LORD IS THE STRONGHOLD OF YOUR LIFE; OF WHOM OR WHAT SHALL YOU BE AFRAID OF?”

The words were transmitted into Jason’s brain, via his headset.