“Yes sir,” said Logan. “Thank you for the advice.”
Garrison smiled and continued. “Personally, I don’t think it’s harmful to discuss these things in a properly supervised environment, such as our classroom. I said many times throughout the semester that I welcome all well-reasoned discussion. But you will be leaving academia soon and things will be different. You’ll need to watch your step.”
Logan nodded. “Thanks Professor Garrison. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Garrison placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “I hope you know that you can trust me.”
Logan nodded his head and said, “Yes sir. Thanks.”
Logan left the classroom and exited the building. He walked across a small square toward a three-story glass building. He went inside and entered a large open room. There were a few rows of books, but the majority of the space was devoted to individual study stations equipped with large transparent view screens and docking stations. Wooden tables arranged in rows occupied the center. Students sat at the tables, quietly studying alone or in small groups.
He found an unoccupied study station and docked his PDD. The view screen flickered and then icons of various software programs, textbooks, and other files appeared. Logan touched the icon of a textbook entitled Advanced Propulsion. The view screen showed the table of contents. He touched on one of the chapters and the screen opened a page with text and equations. He pulled up the notes file on his PDD and inserted a portion of them next to the textbook file so he could simultaneously view the text and his class notes. Touching the screen, he flicked through the pages of notes until he found the relevant information.
He read something that didn’t make sense to him. What he’d written down in class did not seem to agree with what the text was saying. He opened up the lab simulator program, and using his finger as a stylus, he wrote out a series of equations. He touched the image of a green “GO” button and the simulator program converted his equations into charts and graphs. The screen displayed a 3D image of how his model would function. He adjusted some of the variables, such as fuel purity, mass, and environmental conditions. He frowned at what he saw. Frustrated, he sat back, unconsciously running his fingers through his wavy brown hair. Then a thought occurred to him. He made some adjustments to his equations and hit “GO”. This time he smiled when he saw the results.
He stopped studying at 11:45 and went to the cafeteria to get some lunch. He took a tray from the top of a stack and pushed it along a metal shelf. He indicated what food he wanted and one of the dozen or so cafeteria staff workers placed it on his tray. He looked around the large crowded room and saw Cap and another student sitting at a table.
“How’d your systems final go?” asked Logan as he sat down next to Cap.
“About usual,” said Cap unenthusiastically. “I didn’t light it up but I didn’t crash and burn either.”
The student sitting across the table took his heavy-rimmed glasses off and started cleaning them with a small cloth. “Systems design with Fowler is a joke,” said the other student. “Try taking it from Van Horn. The man’s a sociopath.”
“No thanks, Hamza.” replied Cap. “Fowler was crazy enough for me. Did you know he sings to himself when he writes on the view screen? What a cube.”
“Strange,” agreed Logan. He looked at Hamza. “What about you? How are exams going?”
Hamza held his glasses up to the ceiling lights, gave them a final wipe, and placed them on his nose. “I had three last week and two more this week. Then I’m a free man.” He looked around the cafeteria. “Free from this fucking bullshit gulag.”
“Free?” replied Cap. “Your active duty station is Peoria. Peoria! That’s the goddamn frontier, boy. Shithole central.”
Logan and Cap laughed. Agitated, Hamza adjusted his glasses and said rather defensively, “That’s where they need civil and agricultural engineers. I’m good at both, so they’re sending me where the work needs to be done. At least I’ll be doing work that makes a difference, makes us one people, one nation.”
Logan smiled. Then he said, “You better be good with an M-35, too. The clans raid out there at least once a week.”
“Shit,” said Cap. “Hamza will be too busy pissing his pants to get a shot off.”
Hamza mimicked Cap. “Hamza will be too busy pissing his pants to get a shot off.” He leaned across the table toward Cap, “I can hit a fly’s eye at two hundred meters.”
Cap coughed on his food as he laughed. He swallowed and said, “Look at you! You’re blind as a bat. You couldn’t hit your mama’s fat ass at ten meters.”
Hamza tightened his lips and said, “Meet me at the range tonight, and I’ll show you how it’s done, asshole.”
Cap grinned. “A challenge from the lady in the spectacles!” he said in a ringmaster’s tone of voice. “I accept. I’ll see you at the range at nineteen hundred hours. M-35 and 9mm. One clip per person.”
“You’re on, fly boy bird turd,” said Hamza. He stood up to leave. As he walked away he said over his shoulder, “Bring some money. No buy card bullshit. Cold cash. I want to make it interesting.”
“I’m going to enjoy this,” said Cap after Hamza had gone. “Easy money.”
“I wouldn’t get too cocky,” cautioned Logan. “Hamza looks like a geek but he was walking foot patrols west of Chicago during last summer’s active duty. It’s wild out there so I’m pretty sure he fired his weapon in anger a few times.”
“Not concerned,” said Cap. “I did a lot of shooting during last summer’s AD, too.”
Logan shook his head and chuckled. “You flew F31 patrol missions. You’re a fly boy, a stick jock. You played with expensive toys all day and got tucked into your warm bed at night.”
Cap waved a hand, dismissively. “You’re backing up Hamza because you’re both infantry. Flat Foots, ground pounders.”
Logan shrugged. “We’ll continue this discussion tonight when you get back from the range. And don’t bullshit me. I’m going to verify every detail with Hamza tomorrow.”
Logan took a final bite of green mush on his plate and stood. “Time to meet my fluids study group.”
“Have fun with your fluids,” said Cap. “Tell lovely Lena I said hi.”
“I will not. She thinks you’re an egotistical idiot.”
“Just one of my many charming qualities,” replied Cap.
Ten minutes later Logan entered a library study room and sat at a table with four other cadets, including Lena.
“Cap says hi,” he said to her.
“Caparelli?” she said without looking up from her PDD. “That boy’s an idiot.”
Chapter 3
That evening Logan was sitting at the apartment kitchen table in front of a small view screen docking station. A 3D video was depicting how waves interact when they collide with other waves. Logan paused the simulation and opened up the equation screen. He scrolled through pages of numbers and symbols until he found the spot that interested him. He changed several of the numbers and was about to return to the simulator to judge the results of his adjustments when the door buzzer sounded.
Irritated by the interruption, he got up from his chair and walked to the door. He looked at the video screen next to the door. A man with a flat nose and a square jaw wearing a light blue coat stood outside. He wore a military style cap with a small badge above the visor. On the badge was an image of an eagle clutching a shield in one talon and lightning bolts in another. The letters “SPD” were sewn on his coat collar.
Logan stiffened and clenched his jaw muscles. He looked back at the kitchen table, then at the door to his bedroom. He was about to walk to his room when the buzzer sounded again. Logan took a breath and opened the door.
“Logan Brandt?” said the man.
“That’s right,” replied Logan noting that under his long blue coat, the man wore a gray shirt and blue trousers, which disappeared into calf-high black leather boots. A black stripe ran down the length of
the trousers.
The officer smiled and said, “I’m Lieutenant Fischer from the State Protection Directorate of the National Security Ministry. May I come in?”
Logan stepped out of the way and extended his hand toward the apartment’s interior. Lieutenant Fischer walked past Logan and into the small living room. He removed his hat, tucked it under his left arm, and turned to face Logan.
“Please sit down,” offered Logan.
“I’ll stand,” replied Fischer. “This shouldn’t take long.”
“What can I do for you lieutenant?” asked Logan.
Lieutenant Fischer didn’t answer the question. He looked around the room and said, “You have a very nice apartment,” he observed. “They take good care of you here at the Weller Academy.”
“Yes they do,” agreed Logan.
Fischer walked toward a shelf and glanced through the cheaply bound books. He pulled one from the shelf, looked at it for a moment, and returned it to its place. He walked toward Logan’s bedroom and peered through the open door. Then the SPD officer returned his attention to Logan and smiled.
“Don’t misunderstand me,” continued the SPD officer. “Unlike some, I do not begrudge another’s successes. In fact, I’m glad that you are well cared for. After all, you and your fellow students are our future leaders. You will be defenders of the People’s Republic of America and should be given every opportunity to excel.”
Logan smiled but said nothing.
“I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about your recently deceased grandfather, Dr. Arthur Chambers.”
“Okay,” said Logan, hoping the SPD officer did not notice the hint of tension in his voice.
“When was the last time you heard from your grandfather?”
“Let me think,” said Logan. “It would have been about one week before he died.”
“So just three weeks ago?” said Lieutenant Fischer. “What did you talk about?”
“We didn’t talk. I received a congratulations card from him. I’m due to graduate from the academy this Saturday.
“How very nice,” said Fischer, his mouth stretching into a smile, revealing crooked yellow teeth. “He must have been very proud of you. Do you still have the card?”
“I think so.”
“May I see it?”
“Sure, just a second.” Logan went into his bedroom and searched through some clutter on his dresser top. He found the card and brought it into the living room. “Here you go.”
Lieutenant Fischer read the card. “It’s a nice card. I see he wrote you some riddles. Did he often do that?”
“Sometimes,” replied Logan. “When I was a kid.”
“Interesting. May I scan the card?” he asked as he pulled out a personal data device. Without waiting for Logan’s response he laid the card on the table. A red cone of light shone from his PDD. The light rotated a few times and then flashed brightly. When he had finished, Fischer looked up and smiled. “Where would we be without these PDDs?”
Logan smiled. “Yes. They’re very useful,” he said, although he was unfamiliar with the scanning function on the SPD officer’s device. Clearly, theirs came with added features.
“Do you still have the envelope in which the card arrived?”
“Not anymore.”
“What happened to it?”
“I threw it away.”
Lieutenant Fischer frowned when he heard the response, but then he said, “Oh well. That’s understandable. Do you recall what the return address was?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Don’t recall?” asked Lieutenant Fischer. “Was it his home address? Some other place?”
“I don’t think I bothered to look,” said Logan.
Lieutenant Fischer tapped the nail of his index finger on the PDD and stared at Logan for several heartbeats. At last he said, “You’re probably wondering why I’m asking about your grandfather.”
“I suppose you have good reasons,” said Logan as he eyed the man’s PDD. “Keeping the Republic safe must require you to investigate many things.”
“That is true. The price of safety is constant vigilance, I always say. In this case I can tell you that whenever a high ranking person or prominent citizen, such as your grandfather, dies we at the SPD conduct a thorough investigation. Better safe than sorry, right?”
Logan nodded. “Agreed. No harm double checking things.”
“I’m so happy you understand. Terrorists from the Southern Union, The Pacific Federation, and the Waste grow bolder by the day,” said Fischer.
“I know,” said Logan.
“You know? What do you know?” asked Lieutenant Fischer, as a faint smile played across his lips.
The question startled Logan. “Nothing special,” he muttered. “Just what you see on the news. There are always reports of some clan raid or the discovery of some spy ring.”
Lieutenant Fischer nodded his head. “Yes. The news is full of these stories.” He tapped his PDD. “So, returning to the subject of your grandfather, the last communication you received from him was the card. When was the last time you two actually spoke?”
Logan took a deep breath and thought for a moment. “I guess that would have been during winter break. He came to visit us for a couple of days.”
“When you say ‘us’ you mean you and your mother, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Your father died when you were young, right?” asked Fischer. “He was stationed on the frontier and died during a reconnaissance-in-force mission near Indianapolis, though the record contains a few contradictions.” He smiled slightly, noting Logan’s discomfort. “Forgive me, but I conducted a little research before coming to visit you.”
Logan shook his head. “It’s okay. Yes, that’s how he died.”
“Did you ever talk about your father with your grandfather?”
“Not really,” said Logan. “Dr. Chambers was my grandfather on my mother’s side, so there really wasn’t any reason to talk about my father.”
Lieutenant Fischer nodded and asked, “During your grandfather’s winter visit, do you recall any conversations that seemed strange?”
“Strange in what way?” asked Logan.
“Did he seem nervous? Did he mention any person or persons who might have wanted to harm him?”
“No. Just the normal stuff.”
“Just the normal stuff. Good.” Fischer paused for a moment then he placed his hat on his head and said, “Well, I’ve kept you from your studies long enough. If you remember anything about Dr. Chambers that seems out of the ordinary, please contact me at this number.”
He handed Logan a business card and smiled. “I’ll show myself out.”
Logan didn’t move after Lieutenant Fischer left the apartment until he heard the faint thud of the stairwell door closing. Then he walked to the apartment door and looked at the monitor screen. The hallway was empty. He walked into his room and opened the top drawer of his dresser. He reached in and searched under some T-shirts until he found an envelope. He pulled it out and tilted the open end until a small flat medallion about the size and shape of a large coin rolled into his cupped hand.
He held the medallion up to the light and examined it. Etched in white against a black background was an image of a man holding a torch. He was standing in a chariot pulled by several horses. To the man’s right was what appeared to be an arrow or comet shooting upward toward a small dot. Logan turned the medallion over to the other side. It was covered in a silver metal lined with thousands of tiny swirling grooves.
His grandfather had written a note and taped it to the medallion. Logan pulled it out of the drawer and read it. Logan, please keep this for me. I will retrieve it soon. It’s important that you keep it safe.
Below this request, his grandfather had written something else. Wanderer, if you come to Sparta, tell them there you have seen us lying here, obedient to their laws.
Logan returned the medallion to the dresser drawer and clos
ed it. He took the note and envelope into the kitchen. Lighting a wooden match, he set fire to both of them and washed the ashes down the sink.
Chapter 4
Cap closed the apartment door behind him and pressed a button on the control pad. The dead bolt slip into place with a click. He went into the apartment and saw Logan sitting at the kitchen bar. Cap could see his roommate was deeply engrossed in his studies, so he quietly walked behind Logan’s chair toward his bedroom.
“How’d the shooting match go?” asked Logan without looking up.
“Hm? Oh yeah,” replied Cap. “It went okay.”
“Just okay?” Logan looked at Cap and smiled. “Something tells me Hamza’s pocket has some of your money in it.”
Cap raised his arms slightly, palms up, and said, “I was out of my rhythm. Any other night I would have won.”
Without giving Logan a chance to reply, Cap asked, “How’s the studying coming? Ready for your fluids final tomorrow?”
“I think so,” Logan said, returning his attention to the PDD and view screen.
Cap continued walking toward his bedroom when Logan asked, “What is the center of gravity?”
Cap stopped in the doorway and turned around. “Excuse me?”
“It’s a riddle my grandfather sent me before he died.”
“You’re grandfather sent you a riddle before he died?” asked Cap. “Weird.”
“He sent me a congratulations card since he would not be able to attend the graduation ceremony. He included a few riddles in the card.”
“I see. How many?”
“Three. I’ve figured out the first two, but I don’t understand the one about the center of gravity.”
“What are the first two?”
Logan looked at the card and read aloud. “’You can cut me and put me on the table but never eat me.’ I think that one is flowers.”
Cap nodded his head in agreement.
“The second one is, ‘Why is a beating heart like a writing desk?’ Edgar Allen Poe wrote on both of them.”
The Navigator (The Apollo Stone Trilogy Book 1) Page 2