by Linn Schwab
“I just want to breathe fresh air again. Even if it’s only for a very short time. Since I know I’ll never make it back to Earth now, I’d like to take one of those fighters you’re dumping, and see if I can land on the enemy planet.”
The commander quietly considered his request. “That’s a very risky idea,” he said.
“What do I have to lose?” Karl mused. “Another six months of this? Tell me you wouldn’t make the same decision.”
“I’m not sure that I would,” the commander said. “But I do understand where you’re coming from. I can’t just send you out in one of those wrecks, though. Not if you’re going to be flying in atmosphere.” He looked to his left and summoned a maintenance officer.
“Yes, sir,” the officer replied, stepping forward.
“I need you to start prepping a fighter, Lieutenant. Our good friend Karl, here, is going on a mission.”
NEW PERSPECTIVES 086
“If it’s in here, it’s well hidden,” Genevieve insisted. The disassembled pieces of a Sentinel radio lay strewn across the top of a workbench in front of her. “There doesn’t appear to be anything in these components that could explain the presence of this cipher you’re describing.”
Commander Eldridge crossed her arms in frustration. “How can that be?”
“Perhaps it’s embedded in the system software. Or perhaps it isn’t even in there at all.”
“It must be in there somewhere. I heard the effects with my very own ears.”
Genevieve gently rubbed her eyes and let out a lengthy, weary sigh. “Have you considered the possibility that the cipher is embedded in their equipment?”
The suggestion left Commander Eldridge bewildered. “What?” she said. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would they inhibit their own equipment?”
The technician shrugged. “Maybe their leaders don’t want them to talk to us.”
Commander Eldridge looked at her in shock. Could that really be the answer? she wondered. If it was, she needed a definitive answer. If what Genevieve had just suggested was true, it meant there was little point in offering to negotiate. The offer would simply be rebuffed; the enemy leadership had made up its mind.
“We have an enemy radio,” she noted, staring at the enemy fighter in the hangar. “Take it apart, Miss Winston, and see what makes it tick. I want to know if your theory about this is correct.”
* * * *
Suzanne stood outside the office, staring at the door that would soon bear her name. “So,” she said, “what happens now?”
“A lot of reading,” Major Richards informed her. “You need to familiarize yourself with a great many procedures, and learn how the station operates. In addition to your teaching responsibilities, there are daily reports that will need to be completed, and updates from Command–net that need to be considered.”
“Is that where I get my orders from?”
“Your orders?” the major asked.
“Yes,” Suzanne said. “Do my orders come straight from Command–net now?”
“I don’t think you understand,” the major said. “You’re in charge of this entire station, and the area that falls within its sphere of influence. The orders come from you, Commander. Operational decisions are yours alone to make.”
Suzanne was beginning to feel the pressure. I’m in charge of this station. I have to make decisions. “What about the updates from Command–net you mentioned?” Her question was a plea for some kind of guidance.
“It’s very rare to receive a direct order from Command–net. The updates are generally meant to inform you of changes in the disposition of our forces, or signs of enemy activity in the area. It’s up to you to analyze that information, and make decisions accordingly.”
Somewhere down the corridor, an elevator opened, and the sound of steady footsteps could soon be heard approaching. Commander Eldridge stepped into view an instant later, and the footsteps halted as she stopped in her tracks. For a moment, her eyes pored over Suzanne, taking in the details of her uniform dress. “It would seem things have changed,” she finally remarked, “since the last time I saw you ... Commander Carillo. Interesting that no one informed me of this. But not entirely unexpected, I suppose, given the distractions present here of late. I offer my congratulations to you. I trust you’re adapting well to your promotion?”
Suzanne bit her lip. “Not really,” she admitted. “I’d be grateful for any advice you can give me.”
“Very well,” Commander Eldridge agreed. “Since you’ve obviously not been properly prepared, I’ll give you a whirlwind orientation.”
* * * *
Jason wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he heard someone outside his room again. He was half expecting it to be “her” again, but when the door opened, it was Major Richards standing there.
“Lieutenant Elliot,” the major addressed him, “you have an important decision to make. Our evening meal is being served in the station’s cafeteria. You can join our personnel there if you wish, or you can choose to take your meals here in your quarters.”
“Umm,” Jason stammered, “do you think it’s safe for me in the cafeteria?”
“As long as you cause no harm to anyone, I’ll see to it that no harm comes to you.”
“Fair enough, Major. Just lead the way. I believe I’ve seen enough of this room for now.” He walked beside her along the corridor, taking note of the various openings they passed. “No escorts with wrenches this time?” he asked.
“They’re not far away if I need them,” she informed him.
“Don’t worry, Major,” he assured her. “I’m too much of a gentleman to harm a lady.”
“Is that so?” she said, sounding unconvinced. “I wonder how it is that you earned those teeth on your plane.”
She had him over a barrel, he realized. There was no point in attempting to protest his innocence. “A regrettable circumstance of war,” he conceded. “Something I hope we can soon put behind us. My offer still stands to deliver your message. Just give me your terms, and I’ll go straight to my commander.”
“As I said,” the major told him, “it’s not my decision. But I’ll keep your willingness to help us in mind, should the right opportunity present itself. Here we are,” she said, gesturing toward an open space with tables. “I trust the setup doesn’t look too foreign to you. Just grab a tray with your rations from the serving window, and take an empty seat at any table in the room.”
When Jason entered the cafeteria, all sounds and conversations completely died out. The room was half full of female personnel, a good number of which seemed surprisingly young. Every one of them was openly staring at him as if he was some sort of curiosity.
“You’re sure I’m safe here?” he said to Major Richards, loud enough that everyone in the room could hear him. His attempt to lighten the mood fell flat. The girls continued to watch his every move, even as the major led him to the serving window. “They don’t seem to have a sense of humor,” he whispered.
Major Richards handed a tray to him. “You’ll have to forgive them, Mr. Elliot,” she said. “Some of them have never seen a man before.”
“Yeah, why is that, exactly?” he asked. “I’ve noticed there aren’t a lot of men among your forces.”
“Because,” she told him, “we eat our men. A regrettable circumstance of war, as you might say.”
In a panic, Jason looked at the selections in the window. There was nothing at all that appeared to resemble meat. Just grains, and fruits, and an assortment of fresh vegetables. “Please tell me I’m not on the menu for tomorrow.”
The room was suddenly filled with laughter, and uncontrollable girlish giggling.
“You see, Mr. Elliot,” the major teased him, “they do have a sense of humor after all.”
He took a deep breath and wiped his forehead. “Oh, wow,” he said. “You really had me going, there.”
Major Richards gestured toward the pans of food. “What would you like?” sh
e said. “Just let the server know and she’ll dish it up for you.”
Jason looked through the available choices. “I’ll take everything and anything that isn’t green beans.”
The server obliged him with a helping of each, then the major escorted him to an empty table.
“Won’t you be joining me?” he asked her.
“I have some things to attend to elsewhere,” she said. She glanced at the younger girls with hesitation, then walked to the center of the room and called them to formation. In the blink of an eye, the girls jumped to their feet and stood at attention obediently. “Ladies,” the major said to them, “I’m placing this man in your charge for now. See to it that no harm comes to him while I’m gone.” She raised her right fist to her heart and yelled, “Life!”
“Val–halla!” they shouted, returning her salute.
Jason got the point of the major’s demonstration. She was warning him these weren’t just some defenseless little girls. They were capable of functioning as a unified force. He gave her a nod of understanding.
“At ease,” she announced, and left the room.
The girls returned to their seats now, and he finally noticed that “she” was in the room. Uh–oh, he thought, this could be trouble. He tried not to make eye contact with her. To his dismay, she got up and walked to his table, then sat down directly across from him. He looked her in the eyes. She stared back at him.
“I lost my squadron too,” she said.
At first he wondered if she was looking for compassion, but it was difficult to read what was in her expression. “What?” he said, not completely understanding.
“Five years ago, I lost my whole squadron. They were all killed by some of your elites.”
“Oh,” he said, convinced he understood now. She was challenging him. Inviting him to deny responsibility. “Look, uh ... if it’s any consolation to you, I had nothing to do with that. I’ve only been with the elites for a short time now. Five years ago, I was just starting out.”
She leaned back in her seat and appeared to relax. He felt himself breathing a little easier. “Can I ask you something?” he said to her. “Would you please tell me your name?”
She looked at him quietly for several heartbeats, then finally said, “My name is Virginia.”
“Virginia,” he said. “Thank you, Virginia. I’m glad I can finally put a name to your face. It’s kind of been haunting me for a while. Ever since...” He fell quiet and glanced at her injured shoulder.
She reached up and gently rubbed her wound. “I know what you mean about being haunted.”
She seems to feel some affinity toward me, he realized. Maybe because both of us lived through a similar experience. He decided he could try to use that to get on her good side — something he very much desired at the moment, considering her earlier attempts to do him in. “Do you get the nightmares too?” he asked.
She looked at the emblem on his chest and nodded.
He swallowed and said, “Does it ever get better?”
Her eyes appeared to lose focus now, as if she was searching her feelings for an answer.
* * * *
Commander Ingman stood alongside Karl as Jay approached them from across the flight deck. “You called for me, Commander?” Jay said.
The commander nodded and waved him in closer. “Jay, you remember Karl, here, don’t you?”
“Of course,” Jay said. “In fact, we were just catching up on old times a short while ago.”
“Good,” the commander said with a nod. “I want you to do me a favor, Jay. I want you to teach Karl how to fly a fighter.”
Jay looked at Karl now, surprised and concerned. “Are you looking to get yourself killed?” he asked.
“Hardly,” Karl said. “But according to Dr. Lee, I’m already dying. So I’m cashing in my chips to pursue a foolish dream.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Karl,” Jay said. “I truly am. You’ll be sorely missed. I give you my word, I’ll do my best to make a pilot out of you.”
“Thank you, Jay,” the commander said. “I think you’ll find him to be a quick learner.”
“So what did you have in mind?” Jay asked. He looked to Karl for an explanation.
“I’m planning a trip to the enemy homeworld.”
“That’s a pretty tall order,” Jay informed him.
“Now look, Jay,” the commander broke in, “the way I see it is, he doesn’t have to know how to land. If he makes it far enough inside the planet’s atmosphere, he can just eject and parachute down to the surface.”
Jay rubbed his chin. “Alright,” he said. “That makes things considerably less complicated. I take it you don’t intend to use the weapon systems either?”
Karl shook his head. “If they see me, it’s over. My plan is to sneak past them without being spotted. I’m hoping I can find a nice secluded area, and enjoy some peace and quiet in the wilderness for a while.”
“In that case,” Jay said, “I suggest you eject near the edge of a continent, and set the autopilot so your plane splashes down in the ocean. That should lower the chances of alerting the enemy to your presence. It won’t leave a big pillar of smoke for them to see.”
“Good thinking,” the commander said. “Why don’t you get Karl started on some flight training basics. I need to go check on the status of his fighter.”
As Jay and Karl walked off together, Commander Ingman headed for the decommissioned fighters. “Lieutenant Parker,” he said to one of the mechanics, “have you reached a decision on which one to use yet?”
“Yes, sir,” he said, “I think it’s gonna be this one.” He pointed at the fighter sitting closest to him. “We’ll have to patch up all of the holes in the skin, and run some diagnostics on the flight control systems.”
“And how long do you think before it’s airworthy?”
“I can probably have it ready in a couple of days.”
“Listen, Lieutenant,” the commander said, “I want you to add something special to this plane.”
“Such as?”
“A high power camera with an integrated transmitter, mounted facing downward on the underside of the fuselage.”
“Sir?” the lieutenant said, seeking clarification.
“A spy camera,” the commander explained. “We’ve never had any closeups of their planet before, so we have no idea what to expect when we get there. This could be an opportunity for us to gain some much needed intelligence.”
The lieutenant hung his head in a display of disappointment. “I thought you were doing this for Karl’s sake, sir.”
“Who says I’m not?” the commander argued. “Listen, Karl’s been a longtime friend of mine, and he’s earned my respect and gratitude many times over. But we need to take advantage of every opportunity we can get, and I’m certainly not gonna pass up a chance like this one.”
“Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Parker said. “I suppose you don’t want Karl to know about this.”
Commander Ingman shook his head. “Look,” he said with all sincerity, “if you’re really concerned about what’s in Karl’s best interests, do us both a big favor, okay? Make this plane as operationally sound as possible ... and make damn sure the ejection seat is functioning properly.”
* * * *
While Virginia continued conversing with Jason, Robin’s battalion members watched in silence from their tables. While many of them couldn’t seem to take their eyes off of Jason, Michelle in particular appeared to be obsessed. When Robin noticed this, she got to her feet, and commandeered the seat beside her captivated friend.
“Michelle,” she said, expressing suspicion, “what are you thinking?”
“Nothing,” Michelle answered. “I’m just looking.”
“If you look any harder, you’re gonna break him. You do realize you’re far too young for him, right? Even if circumstances were different.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I can still dream.”
Robin gently grabbed her by t
he hand. “Just don’t forget that it can only be a dream.”
“A dream is better than nothing,” Michelle said. “And some dreams are a whole lot better than others.”
Robin grinned and squeezed Michelle’s hand. “Yes,” she agreed, turning her eyes toward Jason, and examining every contour of his face. “And this is definitely one of the better ones. Even if he is an Earthling.”
* * * *
As her whirlwind tour through Volaris progressed, Suzanne felt as if she was gaining in confidence. Behind the brashness put forward by Commander Eldridge, the woman was proficient in many capacities, and mentoring was proving to be no exception. She seemed to possess a keen understanding of which details were important to touch on, and which were most likely to be self explanatory.
After starting their tour on the control room level, the two of them worked their way down to the hangar while discussing various aspects of the station’s operations. One thing that continued to bother Suzanne was her total lack of understanding in regard to the overall Sentinel command structure. She dropped hints about her concerns more than once, but found her tutor to be frustratingly evasive on the subject. Finally, her patience began to wear thin, and she decided to confront Commander Eldridge directly.
“Commander,” she said, “can you tell me something, please. Exactly who is it that commands our forces?”
“There are various segments of command,” she answered, “each with their own unique responsibilities. Base commanders, fleet commanders, fighter wing commanders. Operations commanders such as myself.”
“Yes,” Suzanne said, “I understand that. But who is in charge of all of those commanders? Where do they get their instructions from? For example, how was it that you ended up here on Volaris? Did someone give you instructions to come here?”
“Yes. I was conducting a review of our forces in this area, and received a message to proceed to Volaris.”
“Who sent you that message?”
“It came over Command-net.”
“But who sent it to you? Who made that decision? And why did they decide to send you here?”
“If I knew,” Commander Eldridge said, “I would gladly share that information with you.”