by Ricky Sides
The silence that followed the announcement lasted only a few moments and then a chaotic babble of conversations began. Some were heated and loud.
A male voice called out over the intercom in tones sufficiently loud to be heard above the background chatter. “Peacekeepers, attention!”
Moments later, the hangar bay quieted down as the people waited to hear another announcement. “My name is Base Commander Rob Finch. I am the former commander of the Houston base. Last night, I was contacted by the council and asked to take over as commander of the citadel. I agreed with the condition that I return to the Houston base if it is reopened. Most of you are probably aware that the citadel is not going to be closed. All of the Houston and Dallas contingents of the Texas peacekeepers are transferring here. Transferring all of the supplies from those two areas will take an estimated two weeks. In addition, there are still several missions for us to fly to the Damroyal. The senior teams will continue to fly those missions, augmented by the APCs of the Houston and Dallas bases. The junior teams are being pulled from that duty, and will be reassigned to other missions. Junior team commanders, you are to report to my office for a briefing in fifteen minutes.”
Pausing only a moment, the base commander continued, “Anyone wishing to resign and return to your homes should do so soon. Tomorrow morning, we’ll have a team set up in the hangar bay to process these requests. That will give you the night to ponder your decisions. Those of you wishing to participate in the Ark program will also be able to register in the morning in the hangar bay.” There was another momentary pause, and then the commander added, “I advise you to consider your options carefully. This opportunity won’t be available indefinitely. The council wishes you to know that they will honor the requests as long as possible, but they cannot guarantee transportation beyond two weeks from today. For that reason, they wanted me to tell you that your best bet is to make a decision sooner, rather than later. Preferably within three days of their announcement.”
Another few moments of silence fell in the hangar bay, and then the commander said, “People, we will get through this. There are some big things in the works. Things I can’t talk about at this point, but I am aware of the total strategy involved. Knowing what I now know, I recommend to anyone who leaves that you participate in the Ark program. You will greatly enhance your chances of survival if you will do so. That’s all for now. You are all dismissed.”
As the crowded hangar bay began to empty, Evan’s team drew closer to him. “Do you know what they have in mind for us?” Ralph asked Evan, just as Lisa was about to ask him the same question.
“No,” said Evan with a frown. “This is the first I heard of this change.”
“I’m afraid someone at the Damroyal reported the incident with John,” Ralph speculated, fixing an accusatory stare on the man who shamefacedly looked down at the ground.
“I don’t think that’s it,” Evan said shaking his head. “If we were being punished for that, it seems to me they’d just dissolve our teams. After all, we are just supposed to be temporarily assigned to the duty.”
The other two commanders approached Evan with their teams behind them. “What’s going on, Evan? Did your dad pull us early because your crew fouled up, or is he trying to put you in a safer duty?” asked Clem Sims, one of the other junior team commanders.
“The admiral wouldn’t do that, Clem. Can you name one time he has shown Evan favoritism? If anything, he has to work harder than us to get any recognition,” Ralph said defensively.
Clem looked embarrassed when he said, “Yeah, I know, you’re right, sorry, Evan. You don’t deserve that kind of crap from me. I’m just ticked that they scrapped the rest of our missions.”
Evan nodded his acceptance of the apology. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, adding, “We’d better get to the meeting. We don’t want to be late.”
“I’ve heard the commander is a stickler for punctuality,” Lisa observed.
“We will fill you guys in when we get back from the meeting,” Evan promised. He hoped they’d be able to do so, but he was afraid that a portion of what they were going to learn would be restricted information.
Evan led the way as the three junior APC commanders walked across the bay.
They arrived outside the commander’s office with two minutes to spare. Evan was trying to decide whether to knock on the door or wait until the full fifteen minutes had elapsed before reporting when the door opened. The commander stood framed in the open doorway. He was a middle aged man, but in good physical condition. He wore his brown hair close cropped. There was a hint of impatience on his face as he stared at the junior team commanders. “Good. You’re a bit early. Come in, gentlemen.”
The three men filed in and the commander closed the door. He walked over to his desk and took a seat. The three junior commanders stood waiting. None of them sat down in the three chairs situated before the officer’s desk. Nodding his approval of their discipline, Rob said, “Be seated.”
Rob studied the faces of the three young men before him in an attempt to judge their characters. He prided himself on his ability to size up the people under his command before he interacted with them to a great extent. To date, his initial impressions had proven to be infallible. Now, as he studied the three junior commanders, he begrudgingly had to admit that he liked what he saw. Nevertheless, he would conduct this meeting just as he had planned it.
“I’m sure you’re all wondering why I pulled you off the cargo runs to the Damroyal.” Without waiting for either of the men to reply, he added, “I’m going to speak candidly with you. If it were up to me, I would dissolve your three groups, or at the very least, have you three relieved of command. That’s nothing personal, gentlemen. In my opinion you’re all too young and inexperienced for command, even of an APC.”
“But it isn’t up to me. This is the admiral’s project, and so far, you have performed well under the stress of your missions. Therefore, the admiral thinks you’re ready for more responsibility. However, I disagreed, and petitioned the admiral for the right to test you people and your crews before you are entrusted with critical missions and he has agreed to that request. The current crisis is going to stress our pilots to the max in the weeks to come. The stepped up operations will mean pilots will be flying fourteen to eighteen hours a day. For the next several days, you three will be flying APCs to the Houston and Dallas bases. Personnel at those bases will load the cargo and you’ll return it to the citadel. If you perform those duties satisfactorily, thus passing my tests, then you will be given the details of your critical missions.”
“Any questions, gentlemen?” asked the commander.
“Sir, most of my team is scheduled for reassignment to the Damroyal next week. Has that been changed?” asked Evan.
“I’m aware of your transfer status, Mr. Wilison,” the commander began.
Frowning at the subtle insult, Evan spoke up saying, “That’s commander, sir.”
“Excuse me, Commander Wilison,” Rob said with a faintly amused expression on his face. He’d tested Evan’s nerve with the insult and Evan had responded in an appropriate manner. He was indeed entitled to the respect the title conveyed. He’d proven that already. But the base commander wasn’t satisfied that he was ready for a critical mission, which was why he’d requested the testing period. He decided to push Evan’s nerves a bit more when he added, “I don’t expect a conflict. You and your team will in all likelihood wash out within four days and the transfer isn’t scheduled to take place for another seven.”
Eyeing the other commanders, Rob added, “That goes for the rest of you as well. Five days from now, I expect I’ll have your resignations on my desk.”
All three of the young commanders were furious, but to their credit, they sat silently. But then one of the men laughed and said, “Commander, never bet against Evan. You’ll lose if you do.”
“Your faith in your fellow commander is admirable, but he’ll be getting no favors from me because o
f his name.”
“None are wanted or expected, sir,” Evan said evenly.
“I hope that’s true, Commander. However, I can’t help but wonder if that is really the case. All too often people in your situation are so accustomed to favors that they expect them on an almost subconscious level, despite the fact that they pay lip service to wanting none. Time will tell whether or not this is true in your case,” Rob said with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. “Now, if there is nothing else, you are dismissed. Go to the flight control officer and pick up your orders.”
When the three commanders filed out of the office, his aide entered the room. “Have the preparations been made as I instructed?” asked Rob.
“Yes, sir. All emergency food and water rations have been removed from the APCs the junior teams are slated to fly.” responded the aide.
“Good. Let’s see just how good they are. Have a boarding team ready to inspect the three APCs if they enter the flight lineup without requesting replacements.”
The three junior team commanders spoke in hushed tones as they stopped briefly in the hangar bay before rejoining their teams. “He seems dead certain that we’ll fail his test. What should we do, Evan?” Clem asked.
“Prove him wrong. Make certain you do everything by the book. That’s all we can do in this situation.”
“We don’t even know the nature of the critical mission we might draw if we succeed,” the other commander, named Wayne Peters, grumbled.
“That’s for security reasons,” Evan stated. Then he said, “Join your teams. Tell them we are expected to fail, so it’s probably going to be rough. We have our flight orders. Be certain your check out your birds carefully before we leave. We can’t afford any surprises at this point. We leave for Houston in two hours, so grab a meal. It’s going to be a long time before we have another chance to eat a decent meal.”
“You’ve got that right. He’s got us on a killer schedule,” Wayne observed.
“That’s why he called it a test,” Evan noted. “But I plan to make it, despite his opinion of us.”
“Hell yes! So do I. Did you see that self satisfied grin he had on his face when he said he expected our resignations?” Wayne asked.
“Don’t get cocky. Before this is over, you may seriously consider doing just that. We all may,” Evan cautioned his fellow commander.
“I want to prove that guy wrong so bad,” Clem observed. “But, yeah. Looking at this schedule I can see exactly what you mean.”
Chapter 7
In the small southern California city of El Cajon, Doctor Michael Langtree was perplexed. His waiting room was overflowing with patients exhibiting flulike symptoms. However, some of those patients had open lesions, and still others were vomiting blood.
As he worked to treat the ill, Doc Mike, as the locals knew him, wondered if he should send a courier to Los Angeles to report the illness. Normally, such medical emergencies were reported via radio, but the power was off in the city and had been for several days and now the emergency batteries were probably dead.
Finally, alarmed by the growing seriousness of the medical threat, the doctor had a nurse summon a deputy. El Cajon was one of the few cities in America in which a functioning law enforcement service existed. When the deputy arrived, the doctor handed him a hastily written letter outlining the sickness, which had apparently struck the city and asked him to deliver it to Los Angeles where the information would be presented to what now passed for a city government. The deputy passed through the waiting room on his way out of the building and got into his car. As he drove away, he fervently hoped that he didn’t catch the illness that was afflicting those poor souls.
When the first of his patients died from the disease two hours later, the doctor tried to have the deputy recalled, but by then it was too late. His car was well out of radio range of the other mobile units.
When the deputy arrived in LA he faithfully delivered his message, and then he went to spend the night in one of the city shelters. He was feeling weak, and he had a severe headache.
***
At a small town in northern Arkansas, a middle-aged couple brought their fifteen-year-old daughter to the local clinic where a doctor and his wife treated the sick and injured of the community. The doctor quickly discovered that none of the three spoke English and he spoke no Spanish.
Working with his wife, the doctor said, “Make a note of her symptoms for my records.”
“Should I refer to the wounds as lesions or pustules?” she asked.
“Lesions. These are filled with blood, not pus,” the doctor absently advised his wife. “Be sure to note that she has a high fever and that she vomited a bloody substance.”
“Yes, dear,” his wife responded dutifully.
***
At the first sign of the sickness, the doctors summoned the mayor of New Orleans. They had been alerted by the peacekeepers and they knew that the plague that decimated their city in the past had returned to America in an even more virulent form. The doctors and nurses treated the sick in full protective gear.
The mayor sent a specially trained team of first responders to the home of the patient. They found the man’s elderly brother sick in bed. The old man was so weak that he couldn’t get up without assistance. Beside the bed, they saw the telltale bloody vomit. They also saw the lesions on his face and neck. The man was loaded into an ambulance and transported to the hospital where he was quarantined. The cleanup team arrived in hazmat suits. They thoroughly cleaned the residence. All of this activity drove the rat, which had been lapping up the blood on the floor when the first responders arrived, back under the floor of the home to its nest. Once there, that rat contaminated others. The fleas that feasted on their blood were also contaminated.
***
“We have no choice. The plague has broken containment. We have to prosecute the war against the pirates now or else we may not have the opportunity to do so at all. If just one vessel makes it ashore and they contract the disease, then they’ll definitely carry it with them to other areas outside our borders,” Jim stated authoritatively.
“I could use more time, but I understand the need for us to begin immediately,” Pol stated.
“What about the rest of the supplies from the citadel?” Tim asked.
“All of the essentials have already been delivered. The remaining cargo is important, but not on the essential list,” Jim explained. He was about to say something else when Maggie rushed into the briefing room in an excited state.
Moving quickly to Patricia, Maggie handed her a disk, and then she said, “I believe we may have that vaccine Tim mentioned. The disk has a short film that explains it and presents the evidence. Of course, it needs testing.”
“Play it for us,” Jim instructed Patricia.
For the next fifteen minutes, the five people in the room watched Maggie’s video, which explained that the mutation of the plague with the flu had opened a point of vulnerability in the plague that hadn’t existed prior to the alteration so that it should be possible to stop it with a vaccine. She concluded her film by stating that a manufacturing facility in Los Angeles should be able to produce the vaccine in sufficient quantity to inoculate the population of America in a few months.
Smiling triumphantly, Maggie said, “If we move fast, then I think we can protect the population with the vaccine.”
“What do we need to do to get started?” Tim asked.
“We need to get the results of my research to the facility and persuade the owners to begin manufacturing the vaccine,” Maggie explained.
“Patricia, get that information to Captain Barnes of the California. Tell him I want him to head for the facility, locate the owners, and try to persuade them to make the vaccine,” Jim ordered.
“Right away, sir,” Patricia responded.
“You’ll need this disk too,” Maggie stated as she handed Patricia another computer CD. “It contains all of the research material they’ll need to manufacture the vaccine
.”
“Congratulations, Doctor,” Jim said. “You may have just saved humanity.”
“Thank you, but with any vaccine you need a period of time to test it to determine if it is really effective. This wouldn’t be the first vaccine that looks great on paper, but fails clinical trials.” Seeing the expressions of hope begin to fade from the faces of those present, she quickly added, “I believe it will work. I think I managed to avoid the usual errors that cause a vaccine to fail. But you can never be certain until the testing phase is completed.” Then she nodded her readiness and followed Patricia out of the room.
“When do we head out to sea?” Tim asked as Patricia and Maggie left to go send the messages.
“We should leave tonight. With containment already broken, the clock is now ticking on our remaining time to try to stop the pirates,” Jim said, explaining his reasoning.
“Well, all right, but I really don’t see why you think we have a shot at locating them. I mean, Bill has tried for months with no luck. Now all of a sudden you think we can just head out and stumble across them?” asked Tim.
“No. Actually, they are going to come to us. We just need to get there,” Jim said with a smile on his face.
“Okay, out with it. I’ve seen that look in your eyes before. Usually when you’ve cooked up a plan to defeat an enemy,” Tim speculated.
“I too have noted that look on your face in the past, my friend. Now, I must say that I too am suffering from curiosity, though no doubt not so much as Tim,” Pol observed, making a point of needling Tim about his insatiable desire to learn secrets.
Tim smiled at the barb, but then he turned to his brother and said, “We’re waiting, big brother. Don’t keep us in suspense.
Therefore, Jim outlined his plan in detail.
When they had heard the plan, both Pol and Tim agreed that it had an excellent chance of success.