by Linn Schwab
Commander Eldridge kept her eyes on Tabitha to see if she’d suffered any ill effects from the time she’d spent on board the Calypso. “I suppose I’m partially to blame,” she said to Delia, “that you were left short handed when you were asked to deploy. You should’ve been assigned replacements in a more timely fashion — a mistake I do not intend to repeat. So that you won’t be forced to conscript trainees in the future, I want you to head straight for Orion as soon as your ship is rearmed and refueled. They’ve informed me that one of their destroyer captains recently perished in combat. The survivors of her crew are available for reassignment now. Select the two who you think will best suit your needs.”
“Yes, Commander,” Delia said. “I’m sorry I took her out there. I should’ve known better.”
“You did what you felt was necessary, Captain. In your place, I might have done the same. In any case, it seems to have turned out alright. Go enjoy a hot meal, now. You’ve certainly earned it over these past few days.”
When Delia returned to the serving line, the commander sat down with Janine again. “So what’s the next step in your investigation?” she asked.
Janine scrolled to the top of a list on her interface. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to fly to Centaurus. There’s a lieutenant on that station I’d like to question.”
“Someone who was stationed on Volaris before?”
“Yes. One of the personnel Commander Stinson transferred out. I’ve exhausted all of my other options. If I’m ever going to learn what her intentions were, I’m going to need answers from someone who was stationed here with her.”
The commander nodded. “And what about this mysterious Valgrind? Have you turned up anything more about that?”
“No,” Janine said, “it’s still a mystery. I’m hoping this Lieutenant Banks will know something.”
“Alright,” the commander said. “I’ll have my pilot transport you there.”
“What about you?” Janine asked her. “Are you planning to remain on Volaris much longer?”
Commander Eldridge got to her feet. “I’m not leaving until all of those guns are reassembled. In the meantime, my shuttle is at your disposal. I’ll send for it as soon as I’m ready to leave.” She raised her voice to address the entire room now. “Members of the Second Battalion, we’re heading to the gun bays in fifteen minutes. Make sure you finish your breakfast rations, then assemble at the access hatch in corridor twelve.” She walked a few steps closer to Robin and looked down at the uneaten rations on her tray. “Captain Starling,” she said, speaking softly but firmly, “I’m excusing you from this duty again for today. Keep working on those rations for now, and try to get your strength back up.”
“Yes, Commander,” Robin replied. She closely observed the commander’s face for any outward hints of disapproval. As yet, she’d not heard a single word about the space station she’d declined to attack. A full day had now passed since the missiles had been fired. It seemed Commander Eldridge was satisfied with the results, whether she agreed with Robin’s actions or not.
She still doesn’t know, Robin decided. She’s still convinced she destroyed that station. If she knew we’d tampered with the Cricket’s equipment...
Still uncertain of whether she’d made the right decision, Robin looked around at the other faces in the room and wondered if she’d passed up a chance to save them. Unless the fighting came to an end, most of them would likely be killed in combat. Would the enemy have suffered a crippling blow if instead of allowing that station to survive, she’d followed through on her initial decision to destroy it?
As the rest of her battalion got up to leave, Robin grabbed onto Caroline’s arm and whispered a question in her ear. “Caroline,” she said in a tenuous voice, “do you think I was wrong not to destroy that space station?”
Caroline glanced around herself to make sure no one else would overhear her. Robin’s deception remained a closely guarded secret, known only to the members of ECHO 5.
“Robin,” she insisted, “none of us wanted to kill those children. If we all die because of that choice, then so be it. You did exactly what we would’ve expected from you. And none of us thinks any less of you for it. Like you said, we’ll just have to find another way to win this war.” She gave her captain a reassuring wink, and ran off to catch up with the rest of her battalion.
Robin drew in a deep breath and ran through Caroline’s response in her mind. It was helpful to know her squad still supported her, but who could say what the rest of the fleet might think if they ever found out what had happened out there. As she wondered whether they might feel a sense of betrayal, she remembered the look on Katrina’s face when she announced her decision to attack that heavy cruiser. The same look might now come to her many thousand times over. She desperately needed to clear her thoughts of this.
Looking back over her shoulder, she saw Janine at one of the other tables, still sifting through information on her interface. The mystery of the map room suddenly resurfaced in her mind. Why had its function been omitted from the station’s diagrams? Perhaps she might learn something from Janine. But would Janine even be willing to discuss it with her? She decided to take a slightly different approach.
“Janine,” Robin said, taking a seat at her table, “can I interrupt you for a minute?”
Janine glanced up from the interface. “Yes?” she said, expressing curiosity. “Have you decided to trust me with your innermost secrets now? The ones you were reluctant to share with me before?”
Robin thought back to their previous conversation, when she’d been seeking answers about her recurring nightmares. Maybe there’s a connection here, she thought, but decided not to respond directly. “I was just wondering...” She paused as if struggling with how to phrase the question. “Since you’re an official investigator, can I ask you to investigate something?”
Janine grinned and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Captain Starling. You don’t quite have the authority to do that. Only a commander can initiate an official investigation. You’re gonna have to advance through the ranks a little first. Besides,” she said, getting to her feet, “I’ve already got my hands full at the moment. I’m leaving for Centaurus in just a few minutes. I guess your secret will have to wait now until I return.” She walked briskly from the room and headed for the nearest elevators.
Well, Robin thought, so much for that idea. I guess I’ll have to wait and see what Genevieve comes up with.
Her thoughts now returned to the issue of what Christy and Mindy might think they were seeing in the corridor outside their sleeping quarters. Christy was clearly convinced she’d seen a dead Sentinel. Could that also be what Mindy was seeing? And was the lens in the map room somehow responsible for causing hallucinations on Volaris? Or was there some kind of phenomenon occurring there that allowed the spirits of dead Sentinels to linger? Is there something that remains of us when we die? Some part of us that isn’t lost forever?
As Robin considered the possibilities, Virginia walked into the cafeteria, grabbed a tray from the serving counter and sat down with her. “You look like you’re deep in thought,” she said. “Are you busy preparing for your next great challenge?”
“What?” Robin said, falling out of her thoughts.
“You’ve had quite a run in your short time here. First it was your epic christening flight, with an unexpected foray into enemy space. Then it was assuming command of Volaris when the senior officers were incapacitated. I’m just wondering what you’re going to come up against next. Fate seems to have an interest in testing your abilities.”
Robin slouched under the weight of her most recent brush with “fate.” Was I meant to discover that space station? she wondered. And if so, was I also meant to destroy it? Did I fail at this most recent test?
“Virginia,” she said, reaching out for guidance, “have you ever done anything you came to regret later on?”
Virginia let out a sorrowful sigh. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I have. And it
still haunts me whenever I think about it. More than a hundred Sentinels died because of something I did. Because of something I asked another pilot to do for me.” She gazed down at the food on her tray in silence. After a moment, she felt Robin’s hand on her arm in a gesture of understanding — from one Sentinel to another.
“You’re the best pilot in the fleet,” Robin reminded her. “Whatever you did, I’m sure it can be forgiven.”
The words drew a somber smile from Virginia. “Thank you, Robin. I can only hope so. Because nothing I do will ever bring those girls back.”
With the discussion straying close to the topic of death, Robin was reminded of Mindy’s curious behavior, and Christy’s unconfirmed sighting of Wendy in the corridor. Could there be a supernatural influence at work there? It wasn’t a question she’d feel comfortable asking just anyone, but Virginia had a way of making her at ease. There was a calmness, a quiet confidence in her that made her seem more approachable than others. “Virginia,” she said with slight hesitation, “...what do you think happens to us when we die?”
Virginia gave her an empty stare. “What do you mean? Are you talking about life after death?”
“Yes,” Robin said. “Something like that, I guess.” She found herself recalling something from her past. Something she hadn’t thought about in years. “When I was younger I used to believe that when Sentinels died, they turned into dolphins.”
A smile swept over Virginia’s face, and she seemed to be struggling to keep herself from laughing. “Whatever gave you that idea?” The suggestion was clearly amusing to her.
“I don’t know, just ... something that happened when I moved to the academy. We used to swim with the dolphins that came to visit us. Sometimes it seemed like they understood what we were saying.”
“Well,” Virginia offered, “they are highly intelligent creatures. Who’s to say they didn’t understand what you were saying?”
Robin grinned and started laughing now. “They aren’t that intelligent,” she said. “I was only eight years old when I believed that. Obviously I’ve grown up a little since then.”
Virginia nodded, then turned the conversation back a little. “Yes,” she said, taking a more serious tone, “I think it’s possible that a part of us survives, after our bodies can’t function anymore.”
“You do?” Robin said. “What makes you think that?” She leaned in closer to further express her interest.
“Just a feeling,” Virginia said with a shrug. “A feeling I sometimes get when I’m alone, that someone is watching over me, and exerting some kind of influence to help me.”
Robin’s eyes were suddenly open wide. “Really?” she asked. “Any idea who it might be?”
Virginia nodded. “I think it’s Samantha — one of the girls in my first fighter squadron. She gave me some advice just before she died. For some reason, her voice is still in my head. Sometimes when I get in trouble, I speak to her and it’s almost like she’s there.”
“Have you ever seen her?” Robin asked.
“Not since she died, if that’s what you mean.”
The sound of footsteps approaching the room interrupted the conversation. Seconds later, the rest of Virginia’s squadron walked in and sat down with them at the table.
“What happened, here?” Jenny asked, looking deeply concerned. “It looks like the station came under attack while we were gone. Did some of those enemy ships sneak by us?”
“No,” Robin calmly explained, “a derelict cruiser smashed into us.”
“It looks pretty bad,” Nancy said. “Did anyone get hurt?” She glanced around at the nearly empty cafeteria as if worried that so few personnel were present.
“One of the controllers was killed,” Robin said. “And Major Richards suffered a concussion. Other than that, there were just a few minor injuries. The station’s outer hull absorbed most of the impact. But we’ve drifted several kilometers out of position, and we can’t get back until we get enough propellant to refuel the station’s positioning thrusters.”
The sense of unease around the table seemed to diminish. Jenny glanced at Virginia and wrapped an arm around Robin. “I’m glad both of you are alright,” she said. “Where is everybody else?”
“They’re up in the gun bays,” Virginia explained. “Apparently the station’s guns were disassembled at some point, but nobody’s been able to determine why. Right now, the rest of Robin’s battalion is trying to piece them back together.”
“All by themselves?” Suzanne objected.
Robin grinned and said, “No, Commander Eldridge is with them.” Jenny opened her mouth to speak, but Robin quickly held up a hand to silence her. “Jenny,” she said, “I have to tell you something.” Her eyes quickly darted to Virginia for approval.
“Go ahead,” Virginia told her.
Robin glanced around at the others and continued, “While you were gone, there was a man on Volaris.”
Jenny hesitated briefly, then broke into a smile and tousled Robin’s hair as if convinced she was only teasing her. But the look on Robin’s face remained sincere, and Jenny’s smile soon transitioned to an open mouth as she looked to Virginia for confirmation.
“You’re serious?” Nancy pressed.
Virginia and Robin nodded in unison.
“How?” Jenny stammered, after a few seconds of silence gripped the table.
“Virginia brought him here,” Robin explained. “She brought an enemy pilot back with her from the battle.”
The others seemed at a loss for words. Jenny’s eyes focused squarely on Virginia. “You let an enemy pilot follow you back here?”
“No,” Virginia replied, “his fighter was immobilized. I used the magnets in my landing gear to latch onto him, and dragged him here so we could question him.”
Most of the girls seemed to be lost in a daze as they waited for more details of the encounter. “Where is he now?” Trixie asked. “Was he still alive when he got here?”
A sudden deluge of questions followed all at once. Virginia held her hands up to signal for silence, then took a deep breath and began to recount what had happened. The others remained captivated by her words straight through to the point where an enemy shuttle had failed to show up at the planned rendezvous. They brooded in silence for a short while after, then began asking questions about what it was like to actually speak with an enemy pilot.
“He wasn’t so bad,” Virginia told them. “I actually believed he wanted to help us.”
“So what do you think went wrong?” Zoe asked her.
“I don’t know. Maybe he never made it back to his fleet. Or maybe they just decided they didn’t want to negotiate.”
“A lot of things could’ve happened,” Nancy said. “We should try to find out for sure, if we can.”
“Absolutely,” Jenny agreed. “The only question is, how.”
* * * *
The Melbourne’s hangar always smelled of grease and fuel, and the acrid fumes of active welding. A full day had now passed since the aborted assault, but the usual aromas were still thick in the air as the deck crew tended to the ship’s fighter craft, ensuring they were ready for immediate deployment. It was amidst the bustle of these ongoing maintenance activities that Commander Ingman found Admiral Sands, quietly staring up at one of the fighters with a look of deep contemplation on his face.
“Admiral,” he addressed him, walking swiftly to his side, “my apologies. I was just informed of your arrival. If I’d known you were coming, I would have been here to greet you.”
The admiral briefly glanced at him, then turned his eyes back up to the fighter, paying particular attention to the engine details. “If I’d thought it important for you to greet me, I would have made sure you knew I was coming.”
The stoic tone of the admiral’s voice caught Commander Ingman off guard. Normally the two were more cordial with each other — a result of years spent working together while the formalities of rank slowly lost their importance, giving way to an implied
sense of mutual respect. “Is this to be a surprise inspection then?” he asked, unsure what to make of the admiral’s mood.
“I need to speak with you about a disturbing incident. Clear the hangar so we can talk in private.”
Commander Ingman walked to the nearest communications panel and issued an order to vacate the hangar, then returned to the admiral’s side as the deck crew made their way to the exits. The two of them were standing toward the center of the room, as far removed from any walls as one could get on a carrier. A good place for a private conversation, he thought. Slim chance that anyone would overhear us out here. “So what’s this all about?” he asked.
Admiral Sands waited till the doors were all closed, and the last echo in the room had faded to silence. “Suspicions,” he said, glancing around between the fighters. “Old suspicions, not forgotten, but only recently rekindled. Do you recall a conversation we had some years ago, about the feeling that someone’s looking over our shoulders, and issuing commands behind our backs?”
“I do indeed recall that conversation, Admiral. ‘Shadow Command,’ I think we were calling it. Do you have some proof now, that something’s going on?”
“Proof?” the admiral said. “No, not proof. Nothing that I would consider conclusive, anyway.” He gestured toward the rear of the nearest fighter. “What can you tell me about these engines?”
Commander Ingman looked up at the fighter and shrugged, failing to see how it factored into the discussion. “Model J–P–L–Z delta one–oh–two. Standard engine used in all of our fighters, going back nigh on twelve years or so. Anything more specific than that, you’ll have to wring out of one of my technicians, I’m afraid. About all I do is sign the requisition forms for them.”
The admiral gave a contented nod. “And what about older engines?” he asked.
“Older? You mean as in the previous model?”
“Yes, do you remember anything about the previous model?”
“Of course. Model J–P–L–Z delta ninety–nine. The current model was a direct replacement for it. Something to do with slightly improved efficiency, I believe, but otherwise they’re pretty much both the same. So, why the sudden interest in engines, now? Something to do with this disturbing incident you mentioned?”