by Linn Schwab
The major lowered her head and nodded. “Yes. It certainly would.”
Jason gave her a moment before speaking. She appeared to be taking the news quite hard. “So...” he said, “is that what you’re planning to do with me?”
“What?” she said, looking lost in her thoughts.
“Send me back to my fleet with an offer of a truce. Just say the word, and I’ll leave right now. I’ll make sure your message gets to my superiors.”
“Perhaps later on,” the major replied. “It’s not entirely my decision to make.” She took a few tentative steps toward the door. “We’ll speak more in a while,” she said. “In the meantime, I’ll arrange to have some living quarters set up for you. Remain here until I return.”
Jason’s eyes followed her out through the door, and once again surveyed the girls outside, noting their lack of dedicated weaponry, or anything that resembled security equipment. Just wrenches, he thought, looking each of them over. No sidearms at all. Interesting.
* * * *
When Jay returned to the Melbourne, Angelo was waiting in the hangar to meet him. It was clear that he was visibly upset about something. The absence of Jason’s fighter was a dead giveaway.
“What happened?” Jay said. He and Thomas had decided to cut their mission short after experiencing radio interference.
Angelo fumed, “They jumped us. Came right out of the asteroid field and just swamped us.”
“Who?”
“At least two squadrons of those yellow tails. We didn’t even have enough warning to make a run for it.”
“What about Jason? Any hope for him?”
“I’m not sure. The last I saw of him, he was still alive. But they jammed our radio signals when they jumped us, so once we split up we lost contact with each other.”
“Did you have to split up?”
Angelo shook his head in uncertainty. “I don’t know. We did our best to shake them in the asteroid field, but it was just too tight in there for us to stick together. We ditched the harpoons, but it still wasn’t enough. After we ducked in close around a couple of asteroids, a chunk of rock in a blind spot forced us to split up. Once that happened, their pilots drove a wedge between us, and did everything they could to keep us separated.”
“Did you take any damage?”
“Couple bullet holes. By all rights, though, I should probably be dead.”
“Why do you say that?”
Angelo shrugged. “Once we split up, they played it safe. They didn’t seem to want me to double back on them, and they made that clear to me in no uncertain terms.”
“Hmm,” Jay muttered. “Curious. I wonder what would’ve happened if they hadn’t come across you. My guess is they must’ve been up to something, or they wouldn’t have been able to intercept you so fast. Maybe they were planning to launch an assault, and you just happened to get in their way.”
“So Jason just got unlucky, is all.”
“Yeah,” Jay said, “unlucky for him. But the two of you may have averted something more disastrous. Perhaps this ‘fishing expedition’ served a purpose after all.” He glanced over Angelo’s shoulder and saw Commander Ingman approaching. “Commander’s coming,” he said. “Why don’t you clear out for a while. I’ll explain the situation to him.”
“Right,” Angelo agreed and walked away, leaving Jay to deal with the aborted mission’s fallout.
“Captain Beauregard,” the commander said, “I’m guessing you ran into some trouble out there.”
“This mission may have cost us a pilot already. Are you planning on sending us out there again?”
Commander Ingman frowned. “No, I don’t think so. I guess I’ll have to rethink this operation.”
“I don’t understand,” Jay said. “What’s so important about these avionics anyway? Isn’t their equipment just patterned after ours? What could we possibly be hoping to learn?”
“It’s their radio equipment we’re after, Jay. Lieutenant Amarelli seems to think it might help him crack this cipher of theirs.”
Jay mulled over the commander’s explanation and considered the importance of what Pogo was doing. Finally, he said, “I’m willing to try again, Commander. If that’s what it takes for us to gain the advantage. Maybe we’ll have better luck the next time.”
“Thank you, Jay,” the commander said. “But I’m afraid we’re gonna have to come up with a different approach. For right now, we’ll just have to bide our time until another opportunity presents itself.”
* * * *
While he waited for Major Richards to return, Jason carefully studied his surroundings, looking for information that might prove helpful. There was some kind of control panel on the wall beside the doorway. He remembered seeing another just outside the room. They appeared to function as more than just door switches, but since he hadn’t yet seen them in operation, he couldn’t be sure what else they might do.
He made several attempts to strike up a conversation with the girls who were standing guard at the door. But after answering his questions with silence a few times, they informed him they’d been ordered not to speak with him. They couldn’t seem to keep their eyes off of him, though. More than once, he caught several of them staring at him as if they were somehow obsessed with his appearance. Completely understandable, he told himself. As of yet, he hadn’t seen any men on the station, which seemed to support the long–held suspicion that all of the enemy forces were female. Perhaps he could use that to his advantage. He decided he would have to give it some thought.
It seemed like close to an hour had passed when Major Richards finally returned for him.
“Come with me,” she said, inviting him to follow.
He walked beside her along a stretch of corridor, making sure to observe as many details as he could. She led him into an elevator. The girls with wrenches stepped in behind him. He watched the major press a button on the control panel, and made a mental note of the level indicator. Up one floor, he committed to his memory. The doors opened again just a few seconds later, and the major led him down another corridor.
After passing several hatches and intersections, they stopped at a rather nondescript door, with a control panel similar to the ones he’d seen earlier. The major reached for a button and the door slid aside, revealing a surprisingly large compartment.
“These are your quarters,” Major Richards informed him.
He stepped through the doorway and looked around. It was nothing at all like a holding cell. More like an officer’s stateroom, he thought. There was a bed, a desk, a padded bench seat, a small dinette, and a private bath chamber. And a control panel on the inner wall near the door. He wondered if the door would open for him as easily as it opened for Major Richards.
“You’re to remain in your quarters,” the major said, “unless you receive permission to leave. When you’re outside this room, someone is to accompany you at all times. Understood?”
Jason nodded. “How long do you intend to hold me?”
The major hesitated, then said, “You won’t be here more than a month or two.”
“Was that meant to be reassuring?” he asked. The tone of her voice had been anything but.
She turned around and left the room without answering him. He watched her reach for the outer control panel. The door slid shut, just as he’d expected. After she’d been gone for several minutes, he examined the panel on the inner wall. Looks exactly like the one outside, he decided. He pressed the button. The door didn’t open.
* * * *
Commander Eldridge surveyed the progress in the gun bays and decided the girls had done enough work for today. She estimated it might be a few days before they finished. Perhaps a week, or possibly two at the most. Having received a brief message from Major Richards informing her of the enemy pilot’s arrival, she was eager to find out what the major had learned, and exactly how this pilot had been captured.
“Alright, girls, that’s enough for today,” she announced. “We’ll p
ick up again tomorrow where we left off.” She sent them off to the cafeteria, and headed straight for the medical lab. She found the major there as expected, running an analysis of the pilot’s blood sample. “Well?” she said as she stepped through the doorway.
The major looked up from her instruments. “There’s no sign of the virus in his initial blood sample.”
“Any trace of a vaccine?”
“Not that I can tell.”
Commander Eldridge closed the door behind her, to keep the conversation private. “Any word on Lieutenant Samuels?” she asked.
The major repeated what Jason had told her, up to and including the new recovery procedure for pilots who’d been separated from their squadrons.
The commander let out a sigh of frustration. “This new recovery procedure they’ve established suggests they must be aware of the virus. They’re most likely isolating these pilots to prevent them from infecting the rest of the fleet. That diminishes his importance to us since we can no longer hope to spread the virus among them.”
“We could still use him to deliver a message.”
The commander nodded. “We will, once we’re finished questioning him. I’d like to keep him here until Janine returns. Questioning people is her specialty.” She stepped closer to the major and leaned against a table. “What’s he like? Does he seem cooperative?”
“Well,” she said, “he seems a little younger than Lieutenant Samuels. He seems frightened to me. Rigid. Nervous. Maybe it’s because he isn’t wounded like Dave was. He wasn’t subdued by the effects of blood loss, or sedatives, so perhaps he’s less willing to accept his situation. One thing seems very clear to me, though. He doesn’t have Dave’s sense of humility.”
“Do you think that might be a problem for us?”
The major shrugged. “It could be. It was one of the things I enjoyed most about Dave. It made me feel at ease with him.”
“So you don’t feel at ease with this ... Lieutenant Elliot?”
“No. Not yet, anyway. I’ve confined him to Commander Jeffries’ quarters for now.”
“Has anyone mentioned the virus to him yet?”
“No.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” The commander headed for the door, then stopped. “By the way,” she said, “how did you manage to pull this off?”
“It was Captain McNeil’s idea,” the major told her. “She could tell you more than I can.”
“Is his fighter still in good condition?”
“Yes. I think so.”
“Thank you, Major,” the commander said.
She left the room and headed straight for the hangar, determined to put something Dave had told her to the test. The enemy fighter stood near the center of the floor, with Sentinel planes surrounding it on every side. The hangar itself seemed quiet and deserted. Most of the station’s personnel were in the cafeteria right now.
The commander’s footsteps echoed aloud as she walked toward the plane with the menacing teeth. She looked up at the cockpit and grasped the fighter’s rungs, then carefully worked her way up the side. When she looked inside, the layout seemed remarkably familiar. I could fly this plane myself if I had to, she thought. She leaned over the sill and reached for the controls, but the panel was just beyond her grasp. If she was going to put Dave’s claim to the test, she would have to climb inside, it seemed — an awkward proposition for someone in such a tight dress.
She tried to lift one of her legs toward the sill, but the skirt of her dress refused to cooperate. She tried the other leg, but again was denied. “Ridiculous!” she fumed at the dress, and resigned herself to climbing back down the rungs. When her feet touched the floor, she reached for her zipper, more determined than ever to get inside the cockpit. But before she managed to remove her dress, she noticed some movement beneath one of the fighters. One of the young Sentinels was creeping through the shadows, apparently unaware of the commander’s presence. She frowned and pulled her zipper back up. “Miss Mclean!” she yelled in her standard voice of disapproval.
Startled, Mindy gasped and stood at attention, shaking.
The commander strolled over to Mindy and asked, “Just what do you think you’re doing in here?”
“Umm,” she stammered nervously, “Virginia told me I could sit in her cockpit.”
Commander Eldridge glanced up at Virginia’s fighter, then looked directly into Mindy’s eyes. She considered the damage someone might cause by fooling around with a fighter’s controls. “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she said. “These are weapons of war, not playthings. Go on,” she said, gesturing toward the closest exit. “Back to the cafeteria with you.”
“Yes, Commander,” Mindy replied sheepishly. She lowered her head and walked away as Commander Eldridge turned around again.
The enemy fighter was still waiting for her, with its rungs, and its sill, and its tight cockpit quarters. “Just a minute,” she told Mindy, after having second thoughts. “I’m gonna put you in a cockpit after all.”
After leading Mindy to the enemy fighter, she pointed toward the cockpit and said, “Up you go.”
Mindy gave her a look of uncertainty, then grasped the rungs and started to climb. Once she reached the top and slid into the cockpit, Commander Eldridge followed her up.
“Now,” the commander said, “if I’m not mistaken, you’re Robin’s radio operator, aren’t you?”
Mindy swallowed and said, “Yes.”
“Good. I want you to see if you can operate this radio. Switch on the power, and try to tune in a frequency used by our control room.”
“Okay,” Mindy said, reaching for the switches. Clicking sounds and static poured out of the speakers. She tweaked the controls for several seconds, and suddenly a female voice could be heard, though the words she was speaking were unintelligible. “That sounds like Lieutenant Marlowe,” she said. “But I can’t understand a word she’s saying.” She made several attempts to fine tune the reception, but nothing she tried seemed to make any difference. “I don’t understand. What’s going on?” She looked at Commander Eldridge in confusion.
The commander sighed and leaned against the cockpit. “Apparently Mr. Samuels was telling me the truth.”
WAYWARD FATES 085
Veronica yawned and checked a blip on her radar. The Sentinel I.D. indicated a shuttle. She keyed her microphone to the laboratory’s intercom. “Major Richards?” she said.
“Yes?”
“There’s a shuttle approaching, Major. I think it’s from Valhalla.”
“That’s strange. I’m not expecting anyone from the surface. Thank you, Lieutenant. I’m on my way.”
* * * *
When the shuttle’s flight crew walked down the boarding ramp, Major Richards was standing there to greet them. She didn’t recognize any of their faces. She introduced herself to the pilot, and asked her why they’d been sent to Volaris.
“You requested transportation of bodies?” the pilot asked.
“Oh,” the major said. “Yes, I did.” She understood the reason for their visit now. They’d come for the bodies of Commander Jeffries and the two deceased members of Delia’s crew. “You’ll find them in that storage room,” she said, gesturing toward the far end of the hangar. “Will you require any assistance to get them loaded?”
“No,” the pilot said. “I think we can handle it. There’s just three of them, right?”
“No, there are four of them now.”
The pilot handed a cardboard box to Major Richards. “We were instructed to deliver this here,” she said.
The major had seen similar boxes in the past. She just didn’t understand why one would be arriving right this minute. She looked for a name on the destination label, and when she found it, she immediately understood the significance.
* * * *
The cafeteria was buzzing with chatter, almost all of it pertaining to the captured pilot. Only Virginia seemed less than enthused by his presence. The rest of her squadron was clear
ly delighted.
“I can’t wait to talk to him,” Jenny said. “There are so many questions I want to ask him. It’ll be fascinating to hear what he has to say.”
“I just want to hear his voice,” Zoe said. “Who ever thought we’d get a chance like this.”
Michelle squeezed her way in between the others to claim a seat at her sister squadron’s table. “What does he look like?” she pleaded. “Is he handsome?”
Nancy looked Michelle in the eyes and slowly broke into a broad smile. Laughter erupted around the table.
“Oh yeah,” Trixie said. “He’s definitely handsome.” The others looked at her in surprise. Normally, Trixie was the quietest among them.
“Trixie!” Nancy exclaimed, feigning shock. “It sounds like you’re ready to run off with him.”
She grinned and blushed as the others teased her. “I just think he’s handsome, that’s all,” she insisted.
Virginia decided she’d finally heard enough. She couldn’t take any more of this misguided celebration. While the others continued expressing their hopes, she turned away from them and walked off in silence. They just don’t understand, she told herself. He’s a threat. A monster. Why can’t they see that?
* * * *
In Virginia’s absence, the excitement in the cafeteria continued. Some of the girls began compiling a list of questions they intended to ask their guest. Questions about Earth. Questions about himself. Questions about his early life back home. As Suzanne listened in on the conversation, Lieutenant Marlowe walked up behind her and gently tapped her on the shoulder.
“Lieutenant Carillo,” she said, “Major Richards would like to see you in her office.”