“Yes, and we are eternally grateful-“
“Doesn’t sound like it, if you now want to make a new deal with me.” His voice wasn’t the usual light-hearted Skippy that I knew.
“My fault. Deal was not the right word. What I am asking for, Skippy, is a favor. Let me explain what I want, and you can decide whether to do this favor for me.”
“You ask a favor from me?” He said that in a hoarse, scratchy voice. “For the moment, I will refrain from making the humorous Godfather references that you know I am dying to say, so make it quick.”
“Thank you. What I want, what I would like, is that after you contact the Collective, before you leave us, we take the Dutchman back to Earth, and drop off the crew. Then, you and I take the ship back out. Since, in this scenario, you’ve already located the Collective, you only need me to fly the ship for you, we don’t need additional crew to help. It would be finishing like we started, Skippy, just you and me, one last time.”
“Huh. Interesting. What’s in it for you, Joe? I’m curious.”
“What’s in it for me is, I’m in command of this ship, I’m responsible for the lives of my crew. It’s my duty to bring them back safely, if I can. If you want to be cynical about it, what’s in it for me is avoiding a guilty conscience.”
“Wow. Ok, I will think on that a while.”
“Thanks. Is this one of those things where you have to think on it, and you already did that between saying ‘a’ and ‘while’?”
“That would be a no, Joe. This isn’t simple high-order mathematics; this is a moral question. Also a practical one. I will consider it.”
To my surprise, Skippy didn’t give me an answer the next day, or the day after that. Either he was still considering it, or his answer was something I didn’t want to hear, and he was sparing my feeling while I was on the cold, miserable planet. My thinking was that I’d ask him about again after we were back aboard the Flying Dutchman.
In the meantime, I stuck to my routine. Get up, go running with a SpecOps team. That morning, I ran with the Chinese team, and Captain Xho had planned a very tough ten kilometer run up and down steep hills. It was a struggle, my lungs were burning, my breathing ragged and my legs felt like rubber. The Chinese took pity on me, and paused at the top of a hill.
Captain Xho knelt on the ground, broke a small branch off a shrub, and examined it closely. After looking at it and sniffing, he touched a finger to the place where he'd broken it off, then tasted a tiny sample of the sap or whatever it was.
"Should you be doing that?" I asked him. "Is that safe?" My concern was heightened because the plant life on Newark was edible to humans, perhaps the poisons could affect humans also.
"Yes, it's safe,” he replied, “the science team tested these plants. They're not edible to us, they're also not poisonous. If we brought goats with us, they could eat these grasses and shrubs, the lichen also. Goats will eat anything," he said with a grin. "I was thinking," he said as he held the piece of shrub up to examine its bark, "how useless much of our training on Earth was."
"How do you mean?" I asked.
"Part of our training, for Chinese Army special forces, is to live off the land. We are trained to identify edible, and poisonous, plants and animals. We are expected to survive, on our own, for weeks, even months, in different habitats; jungles, deserts, forests, the Siberian tundra. Drop me almost anywhere in the world, and I can find something to eat, I can make tools and clothing, all the things needed for independent survival. Now, here," he gestured to the horizon with the branch, "all that training is useless. There is not a single thing to eat on this entire planet, and no animals to use for furs, skins, nothing. Ha!" He laughed.
"It wasn't all useless," I assured him. "You learned to improvise, to think on your own, to keep a positive attitude. And to adapt. We've all had to adapt, and I think we've done well. I wish," I said, massaging my aching right calf muscle, "that my body adapted to this extra gravity and low oxygen, as well as we have all mentally adapted to our situation."
"Perhaps you are right, Colonel," Xho said, flinging the branch down the hill. "Let's see how we adapt now to running down this hill, and up the next one."
"Oh," I groaned, "this is going to be fun. Not."
Part of being the commander was to check on every person on Newark, I tried to talk with each group at least twice a week. That morning, it was the science team’s turn, and I wandered over to where Dr. Venkman was doing something at a table that held a pile of scientific instruments. “Good morning Doctor,” I said, “how is the science going?”
"Good, good. We are currently struggling with a puzzle. Some aspects of the biology here make no sense."
"Like what? Keep in mind, I'm not a biologist."
Venkman laughed. "Neither am I. The biology department people treat me as a mascot, or a gofer. I don't mind one bit, this is fascinating. I took a biology course in college because it was required, now I wish that I'd paid more attention."
We did not have a biology 'department', Venkman was still thinking in academic terms, I knew what she meant. "My last biology course was as a sophomore, maybe my freshman year of high school." The fact that I hadn't taken a biology course in college, because I hadn't yet gone to college, wasn't mentioned. She knew it, I knew it.
“Here is the problem, in the simple terms that were explained to me. Look at this, tell me what you see,” she pointed to her iPad, which was hooked up to a fancy Thuranin imager microscope thing that we’d brought down from the Dutchman. Under the imager was a stick, a small branch from one type of small shrub that grew everywhere on Newark. Everywhere that wasn’t covered by ice, or ocean. Or rocks.
I used my fingers to pinch the image and zoom out, then zoomed in to enhance the image. The imager was impressive, I kept going, just to experiment how detailed it could get, until I was seeing individual cells, then inside the cells. Venkman shifted her feet beside me, I took that as a cue she was growing impatient with my playing around. Bringing the image back to where I started, I stared at the branch, or twig or whatever it was. “It’s a branch from one of the shrubs out there.”
“Yes, I meant, what do you see here?” She pointed to a small bump, a raised area of bark, with a tiny scar of a slightly darker color. This time, I put some thought into it. “Looks to me like that is where a leaf broke off.”
“Close. The biologists tell me there was a flower there. A tiny, vestigial flower, a bud that doesn’t develop into a full flower, because the plant does not any longer put energy into growing flowers.”
“Huh.” Even now that I knew what I was looking at, it didn’t mean anything to me, I couldn’t tell the scar had been from an undeveloped flower falling off, it could have been a leaf for all I knew. “I read somewhere,” hopefully that sounded more impressive than the truth that I’d seen it on TV, “that some big snakes, like pythons, have tiny rear legs under their scales. Snakes evolved from lizards, they used to have legs before they started, slithering on the ground.”
“Correct,” Venkman said with a smile. “Along the way, in snakes, the gene that causes legs to develop has become switched off. Here, with these shrubs, we haven’t made any progress in analyzing their DNA, of course, what we do know is these plants used to have flowers, but since flowers are no longer useful, the plants have stopped growing them fully.”
“Ok. The part that doesn’t make sense, is it that plants no longer need flowers now, or that they used to need flowers?”
“Both.”
It pissed me off a little that the great Doctor Venkman was toying with me, instead of giving me a straight answer.
Maybe she saw a flash of irritation on my face, because she added “I didn’t get it either, we are not biologists, that is for certain. The biology team explained that a plant which used to have flower, and now does not, means that plant used to rely on animals, like insects or birds, for pollination. Typically, an animal goes from a flower on one plant, picks up pollen as it eats the nectar the f
lower provides, and deposits that pollen on another plant, when it visits the flowers there.”
“Like bees, right? There are no birds or insects on Newark.”
“Precisely the problem. Plants here would not have evolved flowers, unless there used to be animals to use the flowers. The purpose of flowers, their color and scent, is to attract animals. There are no animals, no land animals, and certainly no flying animals, today. Plants therefore no longer waste energy growing flowers, it appears they now use the wind to disperse pollen.”
“Where did all the animals go? Oh,” I got it in a flash of insight, “Newark must have been warmer in the past.”
“Much warmer. This area, near the equator, should have been very warm, even tropical.”
“So, the planet is in an ice age now?”
“A major, catastrophic ice age. We know from data downloaded from the Kristang satellites that it snows even at the equator here, depending on the season. I mentioned it to Skippy, the science team asked him about it, he replied that is mildly interesting, and he may devote some processing resources to the climate question, when he is done repairing our starship.”
“An ice age? How did that happen?”
“We don’t know. That is one of the many mysteries about this world.”
Running in the mornings with SpecOps teams was good for me, both physically and to familiarize myself with the people under my command. It was such a good idea, that it gave me another good idea. "Good evening, Doctor Zheng,” I said, acting as if I had casually dropped by the table she was using as a makeshift laboratory. Plant samples and vials of soil and water covered the table, all of it carefully labeled. I knew, because I had helped her gather some of the samples. "Your personnel file says you are a triathlete, before you signed on with us?"
She looked up at me in surprise. "Only halfs, I competed in two or three half Ironmans a year, never had time to train for a full one"
"Only a half Ironman. That's what, seventy miles?"
"Seventy point three." Of course she knew the distance to the tenth of a mile, she also knew the exact times of her last five or so races, that's how serious endurance athletes were. Anyone who competed in multiple half Ironmans every year was, in my view, a serious athlete, considering the training time they put in every week.
"You have a doctorate in biology, you are also a," I almost said 'real', "a medical doctor. You were a surgeon? You practiced as a surgeon?"
"Yes, I was a surgeon for six years, then I got into medical research, that's when I went back to university for a second doctorate in biology. You know that Colonel, it's part of the reason I was selected for the science team. As a backup medical doctor, in case the Thuranin medical technology fails, or is unavailable. Like now."
"We are grateful to have you here on Newark with us." So far, there had not been a need for a medical doctor on Newark, I wasn't expecting that happy situation to continue for the length of our stay. Extra gravity, low oxygen, damp, cold conditions, living under ground, boredom poor morale, all of those factors could lead to misjudgments and accidents. If, when, that happened, we would need human doctors. "You have continued exercising aboard the Dutchman." That wasn't a question, I'd seen her in the gym.
"As much as we can, yes, it's not like we can go for a fifty kilometer bike ride, or an open water swim. Why are you asking this, Colonel?"
"Because," I explained, "if our special forces ever need to go into action on Newark, they will need a real doctor with them. They have two medics, guys who went through a crash course before we left Earth, that's no substitute for a real doctor. That means a doctor who is capable of going into action with them, not participating in the fighting, I mean traveling with them wherever they go. While I don't expect our SpecOps soldiers will see combat here on Newark, I do believe in being prepared. Sergeant Adams, you know Sergeant Adams?" She nodded. "She and I have been training with SpecOps teams in the mornings. You would not need any of the hand to hand combat, or weapons training, you would need to run, march with a pack, learn to climb, and also to lift weights. Would you be willing to do that? I'm not talking anything crazy, like getting bounced out of bed at 0300 for a ten mile run, you only need to participate in simple endurance training. If a SpecOps team has to go somewhere, they're likely to be going on foot, and they'll need a qualified doctor with them. The bonus to you," I added, "is getting out of these caverns every day. It's not the most pleasant weather out there, it is a change of scenery from this," I pointed at the gray rock ceiling.
"What about Doctor Rouse?" She asked. "Or Tanaka?"
She didn't ask about Suarez, who was an experienced doctor and molecular biologist, and was also 58 years old and not someone I could picture going on a twenty-mile hike with special forces.
"Tanaka said yes when I asked him this morning. Rouse is a swimmer, not a runner, and he got a mild ankle sprain yesterday, twisted it walking in the stream bed."
"Me and Tanaka?"
"And me, and Sergeant Adams. For training with a SpecOps team. Doctor, I know this planet is a tremendous opportunity for a biologist, maybe a once in a lifetime opportunity, there's an entire biosphere out there to be explored. This training will only take a couple hours each morning, six days a week. I promise that when we're out running, or on a hike, and you see something you want to get a sample of, we will stop."
"Can I think about it, Colonel?"
"Sure. If you're in, we're going out for a run at 0800 tomorrow."
"Oh," she said, surprised, "I thought you'd be starting earlier."
"No, I don't want people running in unfamiliar terrain when it's dark, the last thing we need is sprained knees and broken legs down here. SpecOps teams will be able to conduct night training once a week, to maintain proficiency, you won’t have to go with them. Again, I do not expect any military action while we are on Newark, I want to avoid that except under extreme circumstances. Think about it, please, and let me know in the morning."
Because of the austere conditions on Newark, we made an extra effort to gather as many people as we could in the main cavern for the evening meal. The mood was tense and glum, everyone, including myself, was afraid Skippy would be ultimately unable to repair the Dutchman, and we'd be stuck on an ice planet until our food ran out. To lighten the mood, I tapped a fork on my coffee mug to get people's attention. Knowing Skippy was of course listening, I cleared my throat and said "I have an announcement. Skippy, hey, when we were in the fire fight, surrounded by that Thuranin destroyer squadron, you told me something that surprised me. You've grown fond of us monkeys?" No way could I let an opportunity like this slip by. "How did that happen?"
"Oh, man, I should have known you wouldn't let that slide," Skippy responded. "I lowered my expectations, is all. Lowered them until they hit the ground, I dug a hole, and when I hit bedrock I got a big drill and punched down as far as I could, and when the drill ran out I jumped up and down on my expectations to squish them some more, and finally I took a big steaming dump on my expectations, and filled in the hole."
"Uh huh. So, long story short, you totally love us," I said. People chuckled.
"Ugh, I hate my life," Skippy grumbled.
"Ski-pp-y loves us, Sk-ipp-y loves us, Ski-"
"Shut up. Damn it, why didn't I jump us into that star?"
"Because then we wouldn't have this quality time together, Skippy."
"Exactly. Plenty of stars out there to jump into."
"We love you too, Skippy." People laughed out loud.
"Damn it, I long for the good old days when I was buried on Paradise, taking a nice, long, peaceful dirt nap," he grumbled. "Why did those stupid lizards have to dig me out of the ground?"
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Four weeks into our idyllic tropical vacation on Newark. I got a call. "Colonel," came the voice of Sergeant Adams in my zPhone earpiece, "there's something you need to see over here."
"Trouble?" I brushed off my hands, as I'd been helping dig to enlarge one of the back caverns
of the lower cave. The rock here was crumbly, that scared me about the cavern's integrity, but a couple feet down we hit a solid rock like granite. If we could clear out all the crumbly rock, we'd have a lot more space. Simms had offered to move some of our stack of supplies out of the main cavern, if we could find a safe, dry place.
"Not exactly,” she replied. “Not at the moment."
"Where are you?" I was intrigued.
"The cathedral complex, sir." She meant a large cavern that, to some people, looked like a cathedral, with a large entrance flanked by tall, column-like stones. The entrance had once been much smaller, until the roof collapsed under the crushing weight of snow and ice eons ago, or so our science team speculated. We had looked into the cathedral complex as a possible habitat, but the entrance chamber afforded us little cover, and large solid stones blocked the way into caves further under the hills. I'd given permission for people to recon the place, in case we could make something of it, the cathedral was conveniently located less than two kilometers up the canyon.
Still, it was a long walk, in heavy gravity, and low oxygen, and it would be getting dark soon. ""You can't give me a hint, Adams?"
"You'd really best see this for yourself sir. It's important."
Adams knew that because of our history, she could push me further than other people could. As a colonel, I could have ordered her to tell me what was going on. I didn't, I trusted her judgment instead.
Going to the cathedral, with darkness approaching, meant walking up the canyon floor, sometimes splashing knee-deep through the ice melt stream that meandered from one side of the canyon to another. That afternoon, for the first time in three days, it wasn’t raining. It was cloudy, bleak, chilly, with a stiff wind blowing straight into my face down the canyon. Looking in front, then behind me, there wasn’t another human in sight, everyone was safely tucked into our caverns except for the team excavating the cathedral complex.
SpecOps (Expeditionary Force Book 2) Page 24