Damage Control

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Damage Control Page 31

by Gordon Savage


  Colt felt the breeze-like touch of the shield as it passed over him. He stood up inside its protection, picked up his cap, and dusted himself off. “What the hell is going on? I'm not used to being shot at, especially on base and in peacetime!”

  The guard was all business, “Sorry, sir. I can't answer that. Captain Wessler might be able to tell you something. She sends her apologies and requests you join her in her cabin as soon as you’re aboard. I'll have your gear sent up.”

  Colt knew better than to try to get anything more out of the guard. Obviously Colt was supposed to go straight to the ship. He fought to control his thudding heart and wondered if the guard shack had a spare personal shield. He noticed the guard was again listening to his communicator.

  “Copy.” Then he said to Colt, “Whoever took those shots dropped off the top of the building and got inside before the peepers could lock a video cam on him. Chances are he's gotten away for now, but he's in no position to take any more shots at you.” He deactivated his shield. “Now, could I see your ID, sir?”

  ◆◆◆

  Colt was still shaky when he left the guard gate, and his mind raced. This was supposed to be the big one. He was coming aboard the HMS Invincible as the deputy flight wing commander. The assignment would get him promoted to captain, and he had already been more than a little wound-up. Then he had been told to report to Captain Wessler, the ship’s captain, and, of course, Petty Officer Estrada wasn’t permitted to tell him why. Now someone was shooting at him. What was going on?

  He picked up his pace and focused on the ship in front of him to steady his nerves. As he neared the personnel gangway, the traffic on the aft launch door ramp briefly cleared to allow an airborne ambulance access. He paused while it flew into the launch bay. What was a civilian ambulance doing coming aboard a navy carrier? Someone must have been seriously injured if the sickbay couldn’t handle it.

  At the top of the gangway to the aft personnel airlock he came to attention and addressed the officer of the day. “Permission to come aboard, sir.”

  About the author

  One morning some 70 plus years ago, Gordon saw an army recruiting poster in a post office window. In it a spaceship hurtled across a star-strewn backdrop. That image reached out and grabbed him. He wanted to be on that ship, exploring the solar system. From then on he told himself stories focused on outer space.

  A few years later he discovered written science fiction in the form of Astounding and Galaxy magazines, and he was immediately hooked. He not only read science fiction but also began to write it. Then life got in the way.

  He had the good fortune to qualify for the second class at the Air Force Academy (Nulli Secundus). Thereafter marriage, twenty years in the Air Force, and eighteen years as a software engineer kept him busy, but the urge to write never disappeared completely.

  All that time he read every piece of science fiction he could: Heinlein, Asimov, Clarke, Poul Anderson. Eventually he got back to writing, and Anderson became his guiding light. His first effort, Peacemaker, has been a yet undiscovered masterpiece.

  He lives among the pines on five acres outside Elizabeth, Colorado, with his wife, Carol, two cats, a horse, and a donkey. He has three grandchildren whom he doesn’t get to see nearly enough, and he’s writing yet another speculative adventure, Teleportal: Aftershock, as the third in the Teleportal series.

 

 

 


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