by Jim Laughter
Grandpa Gary turned from the window and returned to his bedroom to dress and prepare for the day. From the corner of his eye he saw his grandson still had his face pressed against the window.
“Hey Bobby!” the old man called out, “you better pull your face away from that window before it freezes there!”
The boy reacted with a jump backwards and turned to face his grandfather. He was quite a sight now with the pattern created by pressing his face against the ice crystals mirrored in the red marks on his face.
“Go and get yourself dressed and we’ll rustle up some breakfast,” Gary continued. “Then we’ll hike over and check the village for storm damage.”
Without a word, the boy bounded to his room, slamming the door shut with his passing.
As soon as they were both dressed, they began to prepare their morning meal. The old man decided it would be best for the boy if he had a hearty breakfast before going out into the cold. Naturally, Bobby wanted to be out there now. But Grandpa Gary prevailed and prepared a stack of flapjacks.
Grandpa Gary chuckled inwardly at his grandson’s discomfiture and remembered his own excitement about snow when he’d been a boy.
“I better spice this breakfast up a bit,” the old man said and reached for the food coloring. He added the remaining contents of the first bottle he touched to the batter without his grandson seeing, and stirred vigorously to make sure the coloring mixed in thoroughly. Ladling out the batter onto the griddle, he soon had eight flapjacks sizzling away. While he did the cooking, Bobby set the table.
“Better get out the syrup and peanut butter. We’re having flapjacks!” Gary called to the boy.
Bobby made a sour face. “Again?” he said with a weary tone. “That makes twice this week.”
“I want something that will stick to our ribs before we venture out into that frozen wasteland.”
“Wasteland?” answered Bobby. “We’re only going over the ridge to check on the village.”
With a sigh he added, “You’ll find any excuse to have flapjacks, won’t you Grandpa?”
“Well, maybe that’s true,” answered his grandfather. “I picked up the recipe when I was a watcher over Sol-3 and haven’t ever been able to get enough of ‘em.”
“Sol-3?” he asked. “Where’s that?”
Grandpa Gary laid his spatula aside and turned to the boy.
“Sol-3 is a planet out on the rim. It’s a beautiful blue planet with incredible land masses.”
“And they all eat flapjacks?”
“Not everyone,” Gary answered. “Only the ones with good taste.”
While Bobby got out the necessary supplies, Gary flipped the flapjacks and was satisfied with their new appearance. A few minutes passed and the only sound was the sizzle of the soon-to-be ready breakfast.
In the meantime, Bobby set the coffeemaker to brew. He knew without asking that his grandpa would want coffee. One time he’d asked why Grandpa and all his trooper friends preferred coffee to any other drink. He could still remember the reply.
“There are only two constants in space Bobby, my boy,” said Grandpa Gary. The room had grown quiet as all of the old troopers present listened in on the conversation.
“Those two constants are the indifference of space, and coffee.” A chorus of agreement echoed throughout the gathering.
Bobby looked puzzled by the answer.
“What do you mean that space is indifferent, Grandpa?” he asked. “I thought it was all adventure and excitement fighting the Red-tails?”
If it were possible, the room grew even quieter than it had been before. Grandpa Gary reflected for a long minute before answering young Bobby. When he did, his voice was hushed, but very firm.
Bobby,” he began, “space is not an animate being with feelings and thoughts. It’s a cold, heartless, endless void. As for us puny life forms who occupy the scattered dust balls we call planets, and travel between in our metal contraptions, it could care less whether we live or die. It favors neither the experienced veteran nor the fool, and only the Unseen One guides us through its vast reaches.”
A chorus of ‘that’s right’ murmured around the room. Gary continued solemnly.
“As for fighting Red-tails being exciting or an adventure, let me assure you that it is neither of those things.”
Gary looked around the room into the knowing eyes of his friends.
“Fighting them is hours of boredom interspersed with moments of stark terror. A man discovers his mettle, or his atoms are scattered into space.”
The room was still very silent as one of Gary’s old fellow troopers spoke up.
“There’s no glory in fighting this implacable enemy,” he said, “only the constant vigil of brave men and women who watch and fight and die as the need arises.”
“Bobby,” his grandfather continued, picking up the thought of his old friend, “the retired troopers you see here are not heroes. We’re only survivors. And sometimes it’s our dearest blood that gets spilled to protect the innocent from slaughter.”
The sunlight filtering in through the window caused dust motes to drift in the air like planets in the cosmos. A sudden hum erupted from one of the speakers in the room, followed by a voice recognized by many present.
“It sounds like you’re getting too serious again, Gary,” said Mary. “Don’t scare the boy to death!”
Laughter tore through the room as many old troopers responded with a greeting to an old friend.
“Well, someone has to warn the boy about the dangers of drinking coffee,” Gary retorted. “Besides, you should warn somebody the next time you decide to pop in like that and scare us old men half to death!”
“Oh yeah? Someone has to protect the ears of the innocent from the rambling tales of old men,” Mary shot back. Someone snorted and the room filled with the sound of good-natured laughter.
Bobby sat wide-eyed and finally got the courage to speak. “Grandpa?” he asked in a whisper. “Who’s the lady?”
Gary grinned down at his grandson
“Bobby, that’s no lady. Allow me to introduce you to the most impertinent tin-plated wench in the galaxy,” Gary said with a flourish. “Meet the irrepressible Mary!”
“Hi, Bobby,” Mary’s voice said from the speaker. “My name is Mary.”
“Uh, how do you do, ma’am?” replied Bobby meekly.
“Now he’s asked for it,” said one of the old troopers.
“I’ll be back with you in a minute, Bobby,” whispered Mary from the speaker. She then raised the volume to address the older men.
“You boys quit setting the boy up for trouble,” shot Mary. “He’s showing respect, which is more than I can say for any of you rascals.”
Laughter again erupted throughout the room.
“For a tin-plated wench, you don’t sound a day over three hundred,” came back Gary.
“Well!” replied Mary. “It’s good to see someone besides Bobby knows how to address a lady!” she finished with a huff.
Laughter continued for some time, with several of the retired troopers making themselves hoarse in the process. Bobby just sat there, bewildered by all of the commotion.
“Bobby?” Mary called. “Don’t let these old geezers pull your leg any. I’m just Mary. Okay?”
“Okay,” answered Bobby. His curiosity got the best of him and he blurted out in a whisper to the speaker.
“Mary?” he asked. “Where are you?”
“Oh, I’m here at the space field,” she replied. “I heard these old coots talking too serious to you, and couldn’t let it pass.”
“Then what they say about space being indifferent is a joke?” Bobby asked.
“No, Bobby. Everything they told you about space is true,” Mary answered. “As for their coffee, that’s the joke.”
Mary then raised the volume and addressed the retired troopers again.
“Well boys, I’ve got to go. Bye!”
She was gone as quickly as she’d arrived. The assembled men called out a
farewell that Mary answered by a double click.
When the flapjacks finished cooking, Grandpa Gary served them each a stack of three and put the extras on a smaller plate. He and Bobby fixed their servings to their liking. Bobby cut into his stack and raised the bite to his mouth. He froze and stared at the edge of the flapjack bite poised on his fork.
“Grandpa!” he cried. “Why are the flapjacks green?”
“Oh, it’s just a little family secret ingredient I save for special occasions,” his grandfather said. “Go ahead, it won’t hurt you any.”
Grandpa Gary filled his mouth with a large bite of green flapjacks. Bobby eyed his own bite for a moment and watched his grandfather to see if he would drop dead. When Gary didn’t expire on the spot, Bobby shrugged his shoulders and popped the bite into his mouth. In short order, he demolished his first stack and soon helped himself to seconds.
Chapter Six
At the space field on the planet Theta, a crowd gathered to watch the landing of a certain cruiser. Many in the throng were family members of the crew, but several were maintenance crew members that had worked on the ship through the years. It had been the first cruiser built at their new shipyard, and as such garnered certain regard. The laying of the keel had been nearly seventy years ago, and among the well-wishers were a few that had helped in that effort.
As part of the welcoming ceremony, the base commander himself placed the traditional fresh egg on the landing pad while the ship hovered several feet above him. On a signal from the controller, the pilot lowered the mega-ton ship down until one of the skids on the starboard side just touched the egg. The ship remained at that position for several seconds, motionless while the crowd cheered. At a second signal, the ship rose again and the base commander retrieved the unbroken egg.
The tradition had started from a bet between a worker and a pilot when the ship was first built. The pilot doubted the ship had the sensitivity of control to hover over an egg and touch it without breaking it. The worker accepted the challenge and took an egg from the shipyard mess. He placed the egg on the concrete landing pad and had the pilot take the ship up and then come back down until he felt the pressure of the egg through the controls. To the surprise of the pilot, he could feel the egg and was able to hover without breaking it. Ever since then the “egg test” became a part of testing each new ship built at the Theta facility.
Now the very first ship had returned for a refit, and to prove that what they built was top quality and stayed that way, they repeated the egg test on the incoming ship before it landed. Tradition also held that the egg be mixed into an omelet to be shared by the pilot and construction foreman. In this case, since it wasn’t officially a test flight, the pilot and the base commander would share the traditional omelet at the welcoming party that evening.
With the egg safely removed, the ship set down and the hatch opened. The immense bulk of the craft provided a welcome shadow for the families and crew of the cruiser. Soon they made their way to the base banquet hall where refreshments and entertainment waited.
The overflow crowd of several hundred crewmembers, friends, and family endured a few mercifully short speeches. Those giving the speeches understood that it had been a long cruise and the crew wanted to be with their families. All told, the elapsed time of the speechmaking was seven minutes. An aide of the base commander noted that it was a new record. The head chef came out of the kitchen carrying the traditional omelet for the pilot and base commander.
The party finally began to draw to a close, but before everyone went their separate ways, the ship captain stepped up to the microphone.
“I want to announce the duty roster for the next three weeks,” he said. A groan swept through the hall.
“As of 9 p.m. tonight, all ship personnel will take full and complete leave and are under orders to enjoy this leave without interruption.”
A cheer exploded from the crowd. It took several moments to settle everyone down so the captain could continue. Finally he got his chance.
“Furthermore, any crewmember calling or reporting in prior to 9 a.m. three weeks hence will have the remainder of their leave immediately canceled and will report for holding tank scrubbing detail at the shipyard in full dress uniform.”
A laugh rose from the audience as everyone headed for the exits and three weeks of most welcome leave.
Out at the space field a small duty detail of refit workman entered the cruiser and prepared it for transfer to the dry dock reserved for it at the shipyard. As soon as all of the hatches were secure, the shipyard pilot lifted the giant ship and moved it across the field to the designated dock. With practiced ease, he set it down in the cradles and shut down the control systems. Engineers connected ground power to the ship and the crew chief signaled for a coworker to disconnect the ship’s internal power sources.
The lights blinked and a shudder ran through the ship as internal systems adjusted to the variations in load and voltage. In the detector room, an image recorder blinked twice and settled down. The fluctuation of voltage during changeover usually caused only minor problems in recorded data.
∞∞∞
In one of the inner offices deep within the palace, Trooper Ched Waite reported for duty. The two days off he and his wife enjoyed together had been a needed relief from the tedium of museum guard duty. As he noted the time of shift change, he found tucked deep in his personal logbook the copies of that work order he’d intended to submit to the maintenance department.
Since he was already on duty, Waite decided to submit the paperwork at the end of his shift. Frankly, he found his mind on other matters. The wardroom was abuzz with news about what had happened over at the Ebilizer Institute. Rumors were running rampant but the chief had pretty much the straight scoop. To squelch the rumors, he’d updated all of his personnel at a meeting earlier in the day. He knew his troopers could prove more helpful if they were informed.
“Alright, listen up!”
When the hubbub finally died down and the chief had their attention, he continued.
“A lot of you have heard about what happened last weekend. First, let me say that Our Lady is safe and so is her ship. However, the latest news we have is that sometime between 2 a.m. on Sunday morning and 10 p.m. Sunday night, the newest ship the institute was testing disappeared. The ship is an experimental model of similar size and shape as the ship called Baby, although this one’s color is blue. No one entered or left the hanger where the ship was stored in the hold of the Mary Belle. The only access into the hanger was through the skylight which had been left open for Baby.”
The chief paused to collect his thoughts and then continued.
“Neither the guards on duty nor the detector system reported or registered anyone going into the hanger except for Baby. Our strongest theory is that the ship was flown out, and evidence of blue paint scrapped on the frame of the skylight supports this theory.”
The chief paused again and looked around the room at his men.
“Approach and Ground Control recorded no suspicious activity. Early reports from Orbit Control also show no sign of suspicious activity, and we are still waiting for reports from individual ships that were in the vicinity. I will keep you informed and I ask you to report anything you may have or will hear or see directly to me. That’s all for now.”
The meeting broke up and the troopers reported to their duty posts for their shifts. Relieving the previous shift, they took up their vigil throughout the palace.
∞∞∞
Back at the institute, another meeting was just winding down. Present in person and via monitors were the same participants that had been there for the meeting a few days earlier.
“So there you have it,” said Betty. She turned to the security chief seated next to the empress.
“What’s the latest you have from Orbit Control and the ships you’re checking?”
“Our preliminary report from Orbit Control reports nothing suspicious,” he said. “We’re still tracing a
ll of the ships present in the vicinity of the field and along probable courses outward from the institute.”
“How many ships are we talking about?” someone asked from around the table.
“All told, we figure there are about a hundred ships that fit our search criteria,” the chief answered. “So far we’ve contacted about one-third of them and none have anything suspicious to report.”
Looking down at Empress Ane, he cleared his throat and continued.
“I want to add that the troopers were very concerned that something had happened to trouble Our Lady. I instructed all section chiefs to assure their people that you and Mary were unharmed. Although they were relieved, tension still runs high to solve this situation, and much concern and sympathy have been expressed for Mary.”
“Thank you,” said Ane for both herself and Mary. A sense of having run into a brick wall had settled on those assembled. Everyone turned and looked at Betty as the recognized leader in the investigation.
“That’s it for now,” Betty said. “Let’s get back to work.”
The meeting broke up and everyone went their separate ways. Ane and Betty returned to the hanger where Mary and Baby still rested. Approaching the nose of the Mary Belle, they saw Myra sitting in quiet companionship with Mary and Baby. Seeing the two women coming toward her, Myra rose and went to meet them.
“How did the meeting go?” Myra asked. The expression on her face clearly showed that she didn’t expect to hear anything hopeful.
“Nothing yet,” said Betty. “Do the girls have anything?”
“No,” Myra said. “Mary has decided that it would be best to stay here in case the little ship tries to come home.”
“That makes sense,” Ane spoke for all of them.
“I guess all we can do is just wait,” Betty finished.
The prevailing gloom in the hanger hung heavy. Grief-laden sighs whispered from Mary’s speakers.
∞∞∞
Several cycles of sleep and play had transpired in the warm subterranean cavern. The little ship remembered the pattern of lights it had seen during its brief flight to that cold dark place. During the last few cycles, he’d tried to arrange the pebbles into similar patterns but with only limited success.