by Chris Hechtl
To his surprise she took out a tablet from a bag near her things, played the chip, and then came up with a reply. He was amused and annoyed to be a messenger once more when she silently handed him the chip back.
“Thank you. I think. I don't know when I'll see him again though,” he warned.
“Whenever.”
“I'll transmit it through the ansible. You can too if you wish,” he said.
“Ansible?”
“It is a device. A communication's device that allows us to talk between star systems.”
She blinked at him and then yawned. “Sorry,” she said waving a hand. He could smell the fish on her breath. “So sorry.”
“Don't be. I know you are busy and obviously tired after that,” he said, indicating the dark waters of the bay. She followed his gaze and then nodded when he turned back to look at her. “I can't see why anyone would want to …,” he cut himself off. Survival of course he thought.
“We do what we must to survive.”
“Yeah, I was just reminding myself of that,” Jethro admitted.
“Are you still here?” a familiar bass rumble asked in the darkness.
“Just going,” Jethro said, straightening.
“I told you to begone little man,” the walrus said.
“I am going now. I had to wait on the pleasures of the lady to finish. Good evening, ma'am. Safe … um, sailing I suppose,” he said. “Swimming.”
She smiled slightly and bobbed a bow back to him. She turned her gaze to the walrus. “Mind your manners, Yutu; he is a guest. You can stay the night,” she said, turning back to Jethro.
“It's okay. I need to get back anyway.”
“You are okay traveling in the dark?” she asked, now concerned for his welfare.
Jethro shrugged. “I am a panther. I love the darkness,” he said simply. “I prefer it to swimming,” he said when she shivered and looked at the shadows.
“Oh? You swim?” she asked, turning to him.
He snorted. “Deja taught me years ago when we trained together. I know my limits though. And I can't swim hyperspace like he can.”
“He did mention that. It would be interesting to try it,” she murmured.
“See if someone can trade you a VR headset with a hyperspace sim on it. Or I'll try to remember to ask Deja for one.”
“I'll … let me see that chip,” she said, holding out a hand. He handed it over. She softly spoke into the microphone on her tablet, requesting a headset and simulation package and then handed it back. He nodded. “Good evening then,” Jethro said as the walrus came up behind him. He could smell the fish and foul smell of the mountain of flesh. He turned. “You're blocking my path,” he said mildly.
“Don't come back,” the walrus said, picking at one tusk with a flippered paw. “We don't care for your kind. Landlubber.”
“Be kind, Yutu, he was passing on the message as a favor to Deja and to me. And you know what Koko said. We need to expand the gene pool. Expand the bloodlines. Deja is good for us. Good for me. Get over it.”
“This one I could squish then?” the walrus demanded, chest bumping Jethro.
“You can try if you wish,” Jethro said, teeth bared, claws out. “Just remember, I'm not a dumb fish. I've torn apart more people than you. People armed in ways you can only dream of,” he growled, dropping into a fighting crouch. He was aware that everyone on the beach was quiet and watching the tableau warily. Some seemed eager for a fight.
“Yutu, don't,” Kirima said from behind Jethro, now concerned.
“Oh, excuse me,” the walrus said sarcastically, stepping to one side. Jethro waited a beat then made a move to walk past. When the walrus went to take a swipe, Bast hissed and flashed red on his senses but he was expecting it. He twisted and ducked under the swing, then rolled before the walrus could bring his bulk down to crush him. He flipped himself up and then kicked sand as he used his enhanced body to flip himself up and onto the back of the monster selkie. His toe claws came out and sank into the sides of the beast. Yutu bellowed as the claws cut into him. They didn't cut deep. He had a lot of blubber, but it probably hurt a bit. He bucked, but Jethro sank the claws of his left hand into the walrus's nose and placed the claws of his right hand near the walrus's frightened eyes. “I think you need these right?” he asked as the monster stopped moving abruptly.
The walrus quivered, eyes wide, head back, body arched. “Y's,” he said in a strangled high pitched voice.
“Maybe you shouldn't be such a bully.”
“Yezzz. I mean nooo?”
“I tell you what. You leave me alone, I'll leave you alone. We'll let bygones be bygones. But if you piss me off again …,” he hissed, flexing his fingers and claws. He felt the walrus quiver again. “I'll tear your eyes out and then carve my name in your rump. Is that understood?”
“Yesss, ‘et go,” the walrus said in a strangled voice. It sounded like his claws in the Selkie's nose was making it hard to talk. One female selkie stifled a giggle.
“What was that? I didn't hear the P word.”
“Frack. Pees.”
“What?”
“Please!” the walrus ground out, eyes squinting tightly together as tears formed in the corners. Blood dribbled on Jethro's claws. He could smell it. He wondered briefly if it would affect the walrus in the water. Would it make him a target for those giant fish? Possibly.
“Okay. Since you asked nicely,” Jethro replied. His claws retracted as he gathered himself and leapt off. He somersaulted in the air and then came down lightly on all fours. He stared at the walrus for a moment, watching him breathe and touch his nose. Finally Jethro stood once more. “Night folks,” he said, nodding to Kirima before he walked off into the night.
<(>~^~<(>
It was a long walk back to “civilization,” but he wasn't worried about the darkness. They were pretty far up in the north so the darkness didn't last long. The planet had twenty-two hours of daylight and another six of complete darkness during the summer. He even dropped to all fours to lope for a bit, just to stretch himself. He heard the occasional animal, even howls from a pack of Neowolves. “Show offs,” he muttered to Bast. Bast sniffed but didn't reply.
He got to the village by morning and spent a couple hours curled up in a nest of branches on the outskirts of the village until the local bush plane arrived to pick up and drop off people and gear. He got up and stretched, claws out, raking into the bark of the oak tree before he flicked the bark bits off and went for breakfast. The pilot was taking her time as well, and his experience flying with her told him he had a couple of hours before she was ready to get crammed into the cockpit once more.
<(>~^~<(>
His recent experience in the native villages and the stories of heroes in their community, both past and present, had the cat thinking of his past as he stared out the window to the blue sky and distant land below. “I remember some of the stories, but a lot was lost over time. I mean, I know a little about the roles Neos played in the First A.I. war, how we saved humanity. But it's a general thing, I mean major players were mentioned like General Elliot, the Thundercats, Max, Baloo, and others but ….” He shrugged it off. Bast just looked at him, ears alert. “What I'm trying to ask Bast is if you know more stuff about Tobias.”
Her ears instantly went flat. He raised an eyebrow at her and waited. After a moment he crossed his arms. She obviously wasn't willing to tell him. “I'm asking about the stories. Day to day stuff. How he lived. Where he was born.”
“Most of it is classified,” she said, cutting him off.
Jethro blinked in surprise. That had been the most she'd said to him in a while. “I don't remember much,” the A.I. said, surprising him again.
“Okay …,” Jethro drawled. He was a bit put out over that. He'd hoped for more. Instead he commented about what he knew of his own family history while in transit back to the base.
“I know recent history. Like, for instance, my great grandfather was named Blackjack. Somewhere b
eyond him was Blackbart, Blackheart, and Ink.” He frowned thoughtfully. “Ink was female, that part I am sure of. But I don't know if she is in my direct bloodline or not.” He sighed. “Damn it, I should have asked M'wvekii. She may have known something.”
Of course he hadn't thought of it then, this was a new thing to consider. A distraction he reminded himself, a way to pass the time while they were in transit. But on Anvil … He winced. He'd been distracted when he had seen her briefly. At the memorial he thought. The Matriarch had been the keeper of the family bloodlines and history. Now she was gone. Was all that lost? Lost when her mind was gone? Could she have kept a written record somewhere?
Bast showed him his family tree. At least the parts she knew from Tobias back. It was a dizzying display of branches and twists. Some were cut off; others went on a long time and had many children. Those she knew about were cut off at their deaths. Some were faded in a fog of obscurity.
She traced his lineage back through several Bagheeras and other notable Neocats right back to the first Neopanthers, Jaguara, Jaga, Panthro, Leapora, and Jagana. Jethro was awed and humbled by that, they were legends of the first A.I. war. Even he knew some of their stories. Bast added Jet and Blackjack and then blinked the blank names. He stammered out a repeat of Bart and the others, placing them in where he thought they fit in. When he finished he racked his brain to fill in the other blanks. But nothing came to him. He knew more sires than dams and that was annoying.
“Maybe Letanga would know. Or we could put a call through the ansible to Pyrax I suppose,” he said. “You know Letanga is my cousin, right?” Bast took an interest there it seemed, perking up and even purring slightly.
“Could there be more of you? I mean, in him? In others that have the bloodline?” Jethro asked. “I mean since Tobias?”
Bast shrugged.
“You don't know … or don't know how to find out?” Bast flicked her ears. “Right. Did you access anything in Letanga?” She shook her head no. “Okay.”
Chapter 9
When he returned from his walk-about, he was ordered to report to a building controlled by military intelligence before reporting for duty in the boot camp complex. He was surprised by the change in his orders. It was a legit order so he went to a small isolated facility on the beach far away from the main facilities on the island.
It was heavily secure, at least from the beach side, with layers of fences and defensive zones. It seemed extreme. Instinctively, he didn't like it; both he and Bast were wary of a possible trap. “I wish I'd brought my armor,” he grumbled. She growled and nodded in agreement. The A.I. stared balefully at the building and lashed her tail on his HUD. “Do me a favor. Be on your best behavior here. Don't do anything stupid like try to hack them,” he warned. She gave him a disgusted “as if” look. He shook his head.
“You're not helping,” he murmured, eyes looking for possible threats as well as escape routes as the truck pulled up to the gate. “ID?” a robot demanded at the gate. Jethro felt Bast flash his IFF. She apparently knew better than to try to hack the bot or the network however.
“Please step out of the vehicle here. You will be guided within in a moment,” the mech stated flatly. Jethro eyed him and then got out of the vehicle. It turned on its own initiative and parked in a lot nearby. Apparently they weren't taking any chances.
He followed a small one-meter-tall biped mech through a series of checkpoints. At each he was scanned rather thoroughly. One flashed a warning; he assumed it was about his implants or nanites. A light lit red for a moment. Armed mechs and soldiers came out and surrounded him but didn't raise their weapons. After a moment the lead Veraxin got a signal, and he made a hand sign for all clear. “You may proceed. Next time alert us about your implants.”
“Need to know,” Jethro retorted. The Veraxin clacked his mandibles and then left.
Within the main blocky building, he was met by a pair of intelligence officers. They spoke with him at some sort of lab—at least that was what he gathered from his brief look when they entered the lobby they stuck him in, then again when people came in past him talking about lab work. They looked at him curiously, but he stepped out of their way. One shrugged off his being there and continued on his way, pushing his partner along ahead of him.
Jethro saw more lab coated techs in the background or in passing since they insisted on doing the interview in the main lobby of the nondescript building. “He doesn't have the clearance to get in; he shouldn't even be here,” Ensign McAdams said.
“You really want to go all the way in to the base, track him down, find a quiet place, and do the interview?” Lieutenant Quartermain demanded. Jethro realized all Bast could get out of their IFFs was their names and that they were in MI. He was starting to dislike spooks.
“Oops,” the blond female intelligence officer said, stepping aside as the door opened automatically and an elf tech came in. “A problem with security again?” the elf asked.
“No, not that we know of.”
“Good. The elf turned his eyes to Jethro. “Fascinating specimen. Neocat panther I believe,” the elf said, stroking his long goatee. He had one hand tucked behind his back. “I thought we were working on …,” the male human interrupted his question with a loud throat clearing. “Oh, um … anyway, I'm Doctor Silversmith. Look me up when you get a chance if you stay here long. I've heard of your kind I think,” he said, eying Jethro.
“Um … okay …” Jethro wasn't at all certain he liked being treated like a lab specimen either. He watched the elf doctor leave. The blond ensign clapped her hands once and then looked out the glass doors to the outside. “I think we have a moment here; let's get this over with before they go to lunch or something,” the male said. The woman nodded.
He was interviewed about his travels. It wasn't pleasant. They were particularly nosy which irritated him, they had no business poking into his affairs while off duty. He had at first thought it was a checkup of security to make certain no one was targeting him, but it turned out to be more than that. Or not at all related, he wasn't sure. They weren't willing to answer any of his questions; that was for certain. He finally mentioned Deja and his request to pass along a personal message. He refrained from mentioning the return message.
The officers grimaced as they looked at each other, clearly unhappy about that news. The male intel officer named Maurice looked at his blond female partner. “See? I told you interrupting the mail was a stupid idea. It made people suspicious. They just had to stick their noses in and investigate.”
“I see that. We'll have to fix it. And inform the commander to have a chat with this Deja,” the woman said, looking severe.
Jethro felt a hint of alarm. Why were they being asses about this? It was a simple delivery! Before he could ask, they were back on track.
“Did you see anything? Anything out of the ordinary?” the female asked, staring at him intently.
“No, not that I know of,” Jethro said slowly as Bast indicated caution.
“His voice stress readings are normal. He's telling the truth,” Maurice said, looking at the woman.
“So, Project Destiny hasn't been compromised,” she said, sounding relieved.
“Excuse me? Project Destiny, ma'am?” Jethro blinked then wished he'd kept his mouth shut when he saw their expressions freeze and change.
“Well, it has now,” Lieutenant Maurice Quartermain said sourly, shooting his partner a dirty look.
“Oops,” Ensign McAdams said in a small voice.
“Trust me, unless you want to be reassigned to this forsaken mudball and spend your next lifetime in the ocean or a lab, you'll forget that you ever heard that, Gunnery Sergeant. We clear?”
Jethro nodded dutifully. “Yes, ma'am. I'm a Marine though, ma'am. I can hack the water but ….” He shrugged. He wondered where these two characters had been when Commander Montgomery had had the class on loose lips sinking ships and all that. They obviously needed a refresh. Not that he was going to tell them that.
/>
“Huh. And here I thought cats hated water.”
“It depends on the cat I suppose, ma'am.” His eyes briefly went to Bast and then he went back to looking at the bulkhead. Bast paced, seemingly annoyed with the intelligence duo.
“I see. Well, forget Destiny or Resurrection or anything else you may have heard or seen here. Treat it all as classified. Am I getting through to you? If anything, anything at all turns up in the scuttlebutt grapevine, we'll have to have this discussion again. And you won't enjoy the experience that time.”
“I understand, ma'am,” Jethro said. He wasn't feeling the love now he thought.
“Good. Dismissed.”
“Yes, ma'am!” He about-faced and retreated before they changed their tiny little minds. He was glad he hadn't mentioned the return message. They might have confiscated it. He wasn't sure what was going on; he didn't want to know. But once he dumped the message into the net he was going to wash his hands of the whole affair. He couldn't get out of the facility and away fast enough for his liking.
<(>~^~<(>
“Are we keeping Gunny McClintock moving around? He hasn't stuck to a steady pattern yet in his travels other than work.”
“Which means they can target his work? They could in theory get someone in as a boot.”
“Sir, the odds of them doing that ….”
“I know, I know. But let's not take any chances anyway. When he returns we'll toss him at the Special Forces for a while.”
“Recon? Letanga is doing well with the sniper course. A lot can go wrong in the bush though,” Major Harley warned.