Ghost Ranger

by Dayne Edmondson

  The captain looked at my uncle. “Do you have any bright ideas, Doctor?” He had no idea Jason was my uncle, and we had to keep it that way.

  My uncle mused on the problem for a long moment, then spoke deliberately. “You said back at the silo you started to glow with white energy after being exposed to the anti-gravitons, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “And it arrested your downward motion, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “It stands to reason if you can infuse or surround your body with the same anti-graviton energy you can render yourself weightless, allowing you to float.”

  “But floating isn’t flying,” I remarked, pointing out what seemed obvious to me. “How would I direct myself where to go?”

  He stroked his chin. “Yes, that does present a conundrum. Generally, magic cannot be used to lift oneself. For example, though I can summon a platform of solid air to lift you, I cannot so easily summon one for myself and ride it around like a magic carpet. Something about the proximity of the magic to the source of the magic causes an interference. I’ve yet to be able to fully explain why it is not possible other than to analogize it to generally being unable to lift oneself.”

  I nodded thoughtfully. That analogy made sense. We couldn’t exactly lift ourselves. “So, it would be impossible for me to fly?”

  “Well, let us first test the theory that you can levitate. It happened before, but it could have been due to the circumstances of the eruption of anti-gravitons.”

  “Like a fluke?”

  “Yes.” He gestured. “Proceed.”

  I swallowed my irritation at my own uncle’s impatience and concentrated, imagining the white mist surrounding me rather than an inanimate object. I felt my feet leave the ground. I opened my eyes and held up my arm. It glowed with the same misty white light. “I think I did it.” I looked down. I floated a few inches off the ground. “I definitely did it.”

  “Good, very good. Now try to imagine yourself floating or being pushed upward.”

  “Okay.” I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the anti-graviton mist risen, much like it had when it surrounded the crate.

  Nothing happened.

  I tried harder, clenching my jaw and expecting to feel the wind through my hair as I whooshed into the sky. How I’d get down was something I’d figure out later. After a minute or two of standing there like that, I gave up and opened my eyes. “Nothing’s working.”

  He stroked his chin. “Hmmm.” Then he snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it! Anti-gravitons and gravitons. They’re like magnets - or they can be.” He held one hand up above his head. “Imagine this is a giant positively charged magnet.” He held his other hand down by his waist. “And imagine this is a smaller positively charged magnet. In magnetism, opposites generally attract.”

  “Yes, I know that,” I said. I wasn’t an ignorant school child.

  “Well, what if it’s similar with gravity? What if you generated a sufficiently dense gravitational anomaly in the direction you wish to go and then somehow bind yourself to it?”

  “Bind myself how?”

  “You described originally reaching out to the crates as throwing a rope or a lasso. Well, what if you connect your anti-graviton shell to said graviton bundle?” He brought his hands together and clapped. “The anti-particle and particle would seek to reunite, opposites attracting.”

  I shrugged. It was worth a shot. We’d come this far, hadn’t we? Retaining the anti-gravity shell around me, I imagined a bundle of gravity a few hundred feet above me. I saw it, like a ball of pure black. No one else could see it, of course, as had been the case with all my powers. Then I lashed out with a line of white light and connected it to the ball. Instantly, my feet left the ground and I soared into the sky, though my brain tricked me into thinking I was falling. “Woohoo!” I shouted.

  I reached the ball of condensed gravity and floated there. I tested dissolving the ball and I continued to float there. I didn’t need the ball to float, but I did need to bind myself in the direction I wanted to “fly.”

  I tried again, this time binding myself to a ball a few miles away. Again, once I lashed myself to it, I hurtled in that direction, my body threatening to flip onto its side so that the soles of my feet faced the artificial gravity well I’d summoned. I arrived there and oriented myself “upright” again, feet facing toward the planet, then looked down. Now how to descend?

  Releasing the anti-gravity field around myself, I plummeted toward the earth at a startling speed. This time I screamed in a mix of terror and excitement. How to stop? I had no illusions I would be in the hospital for weeks if I landed without cushioning.

  Thinking fast, I re-summoned the anti-gravity field around me when I was a few feet from the ground. I halted immediately, stopping perhaps five feet above the ground. I released the field and fell gracefully to the ground. “Ta-da!” I said, throwing my arms up like a gymnast might after landing a perfect move. The anti-gravity field faded away.

  My uncle started clapping, while Captain Wilson wore a satisfied smirk.

  “Well done, Rachel,” Uncle Jason said. “Though I would like to see you attempt landing more gracefully.”

  “Yes. In a combat situation, stopping to float for even a moment could mean you’re an easy target for anti-air defenses,” Captain Wilson said.

  An idea came to me, then. “What if I could bind myself to a moving ball of gravity?” I illustrated with my hands, making a fist represent the gravity ball and my other hand, unclenched, represent me. “I could follow the ball of gravity, maintaining a set distance from it, to allow it to drag me along.”

  “Like a grappling hook,” my uncle mused. “Yes, that could work.”

  “Try it,” Captain Wilson demanded. Did nothing please that man?

  I nodded and complied, summoning a ball far above me and re-summoning my anti-gravity field, binding myself to it. I flew toward the ball, but this time I moved the ball higher. I continued to fly toward it. Then I moved it to the right and my flight path arced to follow the ball.

  What if I needed to change direction in flight? What then? I thought about the problem as I moved the ball toward the ground. If I needed to make slow arcing turns a single ball would be fine, but if I needed to make a 180 turn, what if I released the first ball while simultaneously envisioning another ball behind me? In an instant, I flew backward, grunting at the jarring change and feeling an intense pressure. I turned as I flew toward the new ball. That would take some getting used to. To finish things off, I tossed the ball to the earth and flew down, settling more gracefully to the ground this time.

  Even Captain Wilson clapped this time around.

  “Better,” my uncle said. “And I’m impressed you were able to turn so rapidly. If a pilot tried that, the g-forces would rip him apart without inertial dampeners. Your power must give you built-in inertial dampening.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “Very good,” he replied. “You’re like a pilot, only without need of an engine.”

  “And bearing no weapons,” Captain Wilson noted. “Also, how is she going to do when faced with a combat scenario, like anti-aircraft fire?”

  “All in good time, Captain,” my uncle assured him. “Let her keep practicing flight. There will be a time for tactical aerial fighting later.”

  The captain grunted but did not argue.

  I STUMBLED INTO THE barracks right after lights out. Hours of training left my body aching.

  I passed empty bunks on the way to my own and my thoughts turned unwittingly to those recruits lost. Killed in action before they’d even graduated. Killed by an enemy they’d never had a chance to fire a shot against.

  The loss of the sergeants hadn’t hit me as hard. I knew being tough or mean was their modus operandi but still, it was harder to mourn the loss of women who’d screamed at you for weeks on end.

  I reached my bunk and whispered, “Julianna?”

  A shape moved in the dark and I heard rustl
ing sheets as Julianna practically leapt out of bed and scaled down the ladder of our bunk bed. “Rachel!” she said in an excited whisper. “You’re back!” She embraced me.

  “Yeah, they let me sleep,” I said. “I wasn’t sure they were going to.” That was a lie, but still, it felt like we’d been training for days on end. Yet it had been just over twelve hours and they’d given me a break for lunch and dinner. There would be more training tomorrow, and the day after, and then a week later we would be graduating from basic training. “They cleaned the deceased bunks out quick,” I observed. It had been four days since the attack. I guess I could call it an attack considering saboteurs had been involved. Had I missed the funeral?

  “They had a funeral for them yesterday,” Julianna said, answering my unspoken question. “That’s when they cleaned up their bunks.”

  “Oh.” Now I felt bad for thinking the military wouldn’t give them proper burial.

  “Things still haven’t been the same, though,” my friend continued. “Everyone’s been quiet, the remaining sergeants haven’t been screaming as much. And everyone, recruit and sergeant, is jumping at shadows. The night patrol has been doubled, from what I heard.”

  “I guess word that it was sabotage spread pretty quick,” I said. So much for keeping that classified.

  She shrugged. “You know how they say bad news travels faster than anything. Do you...do you want to talk?” She asked in an awkward tone, unused to expressing friendly sentiments. I guess my friend did still have a heart.

  I shook my head, grateful for her asking. “No, I just want my bed and a decent night’s sleep. We have what, a week and two days till graduation? And I have two more days of this special training.” I doubted the sergeants would take it too easy on us, regardless of the circumstances. The shock of the attack would wear off and things would go back to normal. I hoped. Then where would I go after basic training? Which specialty would I choose?

  Chapter 19

  I stood at attention along with thousands of other recruits. Every eligible recruit, be they living or undead, male or female, was gathered here. Before us, a ceremonial stage held several officers and a podium. My father stood at the podium.

  “Distinguished guests, ladies and gentlemen:

  “As Colonel Schattler put it, what a joyful day for our graduates here this morning; for the families that have nurtured them and raised them to take on these challenges.

  “And it is a great honor to be here today on Avylon II, one of the foundational keystones of our great military, and to join you on behalf of the president of the United Federation of Planets, to pay his respects, and the respects of the Federation people, to this military graduating class.

  “I would never have imagined, ladies and gentlemen, when I joined the military at age twenty-one some two thousand years ago that I’d be standing here, nor can you graduates anticipate where you’ll be many years from now.

  “Before this class was walking, the Federation had been thrust into a war by maniacs who thought that by hurting us they could scare us. We don’t scare, and nothing better represents the Federation’s awesome determination to defend herself than this graduating class.

  “Every one of you could have opted out. Many of you were recently infected by a virus that turned your world upside down,” his eyes settled on me for a long moment before passing on. “There was no draft, but you heard the call to serve the Federation regardless.

  “Today in honoring you graduates, in celebrating your achievements and giving thanks for your commitment, we can see clearly your role in our galaxy.

  “For today, as Colonel Schattler said, you join the ranks of those whose mission it is to guard freedom and to protect the innocent from all threats, foreign or domestic. And make no mistake, the Krai’kesh are coming, and we shall meet them when that day comes.”

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Yes, I believed the Krai’kesh had attacked Tar Ebon thousands of years ago - I was not a Krai’kesh denier - but my father had likely been warning of, and preparing for, the Krai’kesh for centuries and they’d yet to show their faces.

  “We must never permit the Empire or their allies to define our time or warp our sense of the normal.

  “This is not normal and each of you cadets graduating today are reinforcing the ranks of our army, bringing fresh vigor, renewing our sense of urgency and enhancing the army’s lethality needed to prove our enemies wrong. You will drive home a salient point: that free men and women will volunteer to fight, ethically and fiercely, to defend our experiment that you and I call, simply, ‘the federation.’

  “You graduates, commissioned today, will carry the hopes of your individual planets, and the federation on your young shoulders.

  “Your oath of service connects you to the line of soldiers stretching back to the founding of our government...and in the larger sense, it grows from ancient, even timeless roots, reflecting the tone and commitment of youth long ago who believed freedom is worth defending.

  “In terms of serving something larger than yourself, yours is the same oath that was taken by the young men of ancient Tar Ebon. They pledged to defend their city, what would soon be the capital of the Federation, from the evils of the Krai’kesh, the Empire and all others who would threaten her.

  “After ten harsh weeks, you understand what it means to live up to an oath; you understand the commitment that comes with signing a blank check to the federation people, payable with your life.

  “In fact, many brave recruits lost their lives a week and a half ago, not in a battle, but while training. They were casualties of war nonetheless, a shadow war against an enemy hidden in the shadows.

  “My fine young soldiers, a few miles east of Tar Ebon, where I often visit, at the Pelinor Battlefield Cemetery, is a statue of a Federation soldier at rest, and overlooking his comrades’ graves. It is inscribed with the words, ‘Not for themselves, but for their country.’

  “To a high and remarkable degree, the federation people respect you. But for those privileged to wear the cloth of our nation, to serve in the United Federation Army, you stand the ramparts, unapologetic, apolitical. And you hold the line.

  “You hold the line, faithful to duty, confronting our nation’s foes with implacable will, knowing that if there’s a hill to climb, waiting will not make it any smaller.

  “You hold the line, true to honor, living by a moral code regardless of who is watching, knowing that honor is what we give ourselves for a life of meaning.

  “You hold the line, loyal to country and defending the constitution, defending our fundamental freedoms, knowing that loyalty only counts where there are a hundred reasons not to be.

  “Rest assured that nothing you will face will be worse than the Battle of Pelinor Field. Nothing can faze the United Federation Army when our soldiers believe in themselves.

  “For when destiny taps you on the shoulder and thrusts you into a situation that’s tough beyond words, when you’re sick and you’ve been three days without sleep, when you’ve lost some of your beloved comrades and the veneer of civilization wears thin, by having lived a disciplined life, you’ll be able to reach inside and find the strength that your country is counting on.

  “Now you are privileged to be embarking on this journey because you’re going to learn things about yourself that others will never know.

  “And we can all, in this stadium today, see the storm clouds gathering. Our enemies are watching. They are calculating and hoping the federation’s military will turn cynical. That we will lose our selfless spirit.

  “They hope our country no longer produces young people willing to shoulder the patriot’s burden, to willingly face danger and discomfort. By your commitment you will prove the enemy wrong. Dead wrong.

  “You are a United Federation soldier, and you hold the line.

  “Now, I may not have had the pleasure of knowing each of you personally, but I have high expectations of you.

  “Fight for our ideals and our sac
red things. Incite in others respect and love for our country and our fellow citizens...and leave this country greater and more beautiful than you inherited it, for that is the duty of every generation.

  “To the families here today, I can only say: Thank you. Thank you for the men and women you raised to become soldiers.

  “For duty, for honor, for our galaxy...hold the line.”

  The entire stadium erupted in cheers in that moment, clapping reaching a thunderous crescendo. I looked to Julianna, who stood next to me, and she wore a grin.

  My father knew how to inspire a crowd. I felt the urge to ascend the stage and embrace him but resisted. It wouldn’t do for a random recruit to be seen embracing the supreme commander. It would spark unwanted questions and likely blow my cover if people put the pieces together. As it was, rumor had it that the real me was in seclusion, but several conspiracy theory groups didn’t believe it.

  The band started to play as the onlookers descended on the field to congratulate their graduates.

  Terrence found me quickly - he must have had an eye on me the entire time. “There’s my niece,” he said, hugging me.

  “Thank you for coming, uncle,” I replied. “This is my friend, Julianna.” I wanted to include her, as she had no one.

  He smiled wide and held out his hand. “Congratulations, Julianna.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she replied, taking his hand and smiling in a more subdued manner. She looked around, then at me. “I’m gonna get out of here. No reason for me to stay. I’ll let you catch up with your uncle.” She started to back away.

  “No, wait,” I said, reaching out and taking her by the hand. “Please stay. You’re like family to me now.”

  “Oh,” she said, seeming taken aback. “Okay.”

  We mingled for a bit, talking to other recruits, living and undead, and observing the organized chaos that was basic training graduation. The next phase of our lives would be different. We would go into various jobs and specialties, spread out across the Federation, with a singular purpose of holding the line.