by Gary Weston
‘Not at all. I blame modern science for not being able to fit volume controls on babies. Look. I might as well go to work. I’ll never get back to sleep now.’
‘Typical. You run off leaving me holding the baby.’
Raven kissed her. ‘Yes. But you look so darned pretty holding him. Expect me when you see me.’
‘I usually do.’
Raven went out onto the street and pressed the remote in his pocket. Most of the buildings around him were shrouded in darkness; just the odd light on from the insomniacs and shift workers, or creative types born without body-clocks. An auto-sweeper trundled noiselessly along, hunting litter, finding very little. This was a city people actually cared about. The summoned personal buggy pulled up in front of him and he got in the front seat, pressed the three number code and allowed himself to be driven through the streets to the Deep Space Intelligence Headquarters. He jumped off and pressed the remote to send the buggy back to where it would plug itself in to recharge, waiting patiently to be summoned again by Boss.
Boss was scanned at the huge double glass doors which opened obediently for him, gave a wave to Don Rickets on the reception desk, then licked his thumb to make the sensor of the elevator obey his command to open the door. It didn’t.
‘Don?’
Don came over, placed his own thumb on the sensor, and the door opened. ‘You want this recalibrated, Boss?’
‘Again?’
‘You could grow a new thumb?’
‘Tempting.’
‘Something going down, Boss?’
‘Hey? No. Just a baby who breaks all known human decibel levels. You have a few kids, right?’
‘Why do you think I like the night shift? Listen to that.’
Boss listened. ‘What?’
‘Nothing. Beautiful.’
‘You got that right. Don. You got advice for a newbie dad?’
Don grinned. ‘Love your wife and kids.’
‘You, Don, are not just a D S I employee. You are a sage.’
Boss stepped into the petulant elevator and rode it up to his office. He hadn’t noticed it before, but his office actually had its own smell. Cleaned daily, like the rest of the building, he noticed a smell of lavender. It wasn’t unpleasant, so he breathed it in and sat in the green leather antique he felt would break some Boss code by replacing. He would, he determined, adapt his body to it, not the other way round.
The thing on the green leather inlaid desk bleeped. He pressed an antique brass button and the latest technology opened up on the screen that filled the entire wall in front of him. The screen split into three. The small planet the D S I ships were about to land on, a view of the planet in close up, and an even closer view of the intended landing area. The time delayed hiss-infused voices of General Millet, Pilot Captain Dorran and Captain Mario Lupinno, filled the office.
‘Final sweeps clear, General,’ said Dorran.
‘Set her down, Captain.’
‘Buckle up. Buckle up. Landing, one minute. Captain Luppino?’
‘On your tail, Captain Dorran.’
‘Into atmosphere,’ said Dorran. ‘Thirty seconds to landing. Landing thrusters taking us in. And welcome to…Anybody gave this rock a name?’
‘Slug,’ said General Millet. ‘Planet slug.’
‘Nice,’ said, Dorran. ‘Welcome to Slug.’
This was followed by a brief report from Agent Jordan. Every one was safe and Millet was already getting down to business. Knowing it would take a few minutes to get a message back to them, Boss said, ‘Got that Tilly. Take care and keep me posted.’
Boss cut the transmission.
‘Slug. Nice one, Frank.’
Chapter 245
‘Breathe in just a little more, madam.’
D S I Military Captain Vickie “Shorty” Armstrong was about to explode, and that wasn’t due to having her internal organs constricted by a dress two sizes too small.
‘Hey. Ok, mister.’ Shorty pointed at her barrel-like body. ‘See this? Half my pay went on creating this, with a questionable diet from Greasy George’s at the weekends, after ten pints of beer. My intended husband has seen it and explored every heavenly inch of it. I got no surprises for him, ok?’
‘Rather too much information, madam. But one must try especially hard for an occasion like this. Has madam perhaps considered losing a pound or two?’
Shorty was only glad she wasn’t packing her laser weapons when she heard that. ‘Look, buster. I’m quite happy in my own skin, ok?’
‘I’m sure you are, madam. But it is rather a lot of skin to carry around.’
Forget the weapons. Shorty knew her bare hands could take out this parody of haute couture in less than five seconds.
‘Listen, buster. If I wanted to lose a couple of pounds, I’d just clip my toenails. You take this body and make it pretty for a couple of hours.’
‘Point taken, madam. Perhaps if madam would take off the dress, my expert team will endeavour to turn it into a fabulous creation.’
‘Like, let it out a few inches?’
‘Exactly. One couldn’t expect madam to hold her breath for the entire ceremony, now could we?’
‘Glad we’re on the same page. I’ll be right back.’
Shorty rustled her way to the changing room. The dress came off in seconds.
‘Mirrors. Damn mirrors all over the place. I hate mirrors.’
She stood in her one-piece underwear feeling anything but glamorous. She bravely approached one full-length mirror.
‘Oh, Frank. You really gotta love me to want this.’
Shorty had scars. One on her forehead from a childhood misadventure. Six from laser shots when engaging the enemy. Two on her right arm, three across her body on her back, one of those on her left leg below the knee. The worst scars were those above her groin; an ugly zigzag of a scar where the laser had blown away a lot of useful plumbing. No babies for her and beer didn’t stay long in her system. Surgeons had done all they could to patch her back together, but it didn’t look pretty.
‘You see the real me, Frank Millet. You have kissed my scars. You put up with my bossy ways. You don’t want no fancy dress. That’s just wrapping. You love me. You were holding me that time I got shot where no woman should get shot. Bits of me hanging out. Blood and guts all over the damn place. I just wanted to die, Frank. Shit. You ordered me to live. So here I am.’ Shorty picked up the wedding dress. ‘This isn’t me. You know that, Frank. Stuff the dress. I’ll get married naked.’
Back in her worn out “slobs”, Shorty carried the dress to the manager and draped it over his shoulder.
‘Madam?’
‘Thanks, but no thanks. A white dress is for a woman with all her bits and pieces. I’m not even short-listed.’
Leaving the bemused manager with the wedding dress, Shorty stormed out onto the streets of the city.
Chapter 246
‘Ok, grunts,’ said Millet. ‘Last time we were here, things got a little interesting. We’ve come prepared this time. A brand new sexy body armour. If it ain’t tucked in, you could lose it. We have every darned sensor you could think off for protecting the ships. Infra-red. Movement sensors and alarms.
We also have our finest shooters under Gagonjet Singh. So. Outside, stay suited and booted. Two hundred yards is the limit you can walk. Right. We do NOT know if the inhabitants of this planet welcome us here or not. Ok. Gagonjet Singh. You look after Troy Warner. The rest of you shooters get ready to cover them. Don’t take unnecessary risks and bring him back alive. Captain Lupino. You come with us. You and I will have a new dye blaster each. The rest of you surround the ships, and stay alert. Out you all go.’
The troops poured out of the two ships. All around them was thick, green vegetation. The scanning had shown a diverse collection of creatures. Primitive primates. Birds of a feather. Giant, slow moving slugs, from which Millet had named the planet. A colony of bats.
This had all the markings of being an interesting planet. It
was half the size of Home. It was one of those, take it for granted, it might just take you, sort of planets. General Millet stood resplendent in his new battle-grey body armour suit. It was lightweight, but, according to independent laboratory tests using rifles, only failed when laser fire exceeded seventy five percent of their output. Perhaps it would do.
Millet had no intention of immediately investigating the planet beyond the two hundred yard perimeter and he had a new toy to do that with. He marched down the open airlock door and felt the alien sun warm his face.
He naturally thought of Shorty. He had deeply loved his late wife. She would, he was sure, understand his need to move on. Shorty wasn’t pretty. Only just made it as a woman when it came to looks. But, late wife excluded, Shorty was his other half. The battles he had fought with her, laser shots all around them, and she had blasted bad guys with the best of them.
It had been early on in the drixolate wars, when he had led the platoon into the runners enclave. Shorty had taken out three, stepping over their dead bodies as she pushed on for more scalps. A runner had come out of the shadows, blasting at anything that moved. Millet had lasered the man’s head clean off, but the headless body fired a spasmodic salvo of shots as it slammed backwards, hitting the floor hard. Millet hadn’t realised at first, but that salvo had hit Shorty. She had opened her eyes and looked up at him, her life fading.
“Don’t you dare die on me, Shorty. That is a direct order, ok?”
As he held her in his arms, the paramedics racing to her, he could feel Shorty’s blood soak his uniform.
“I can’t…” Shorty started to say.
“I wasn’t giving you a choice, Shorty. You come back because…”
“Yeah? You got a good reason?”
“Because I love you, damn it.”
Through all the pain, Shorty squeezed his hand. “No more worshipping me from afar then, Frank?”
“I’ll love you any which way I can. You hang on, right?”
And so, the most remarkable woman Millet had ever known, had clung to life. He could picture her, millions of miles away, bossing everyone to get their wedding just so. Millet grinned. He knew this woman. Finery and trappings didn’t matter. The wedding, an almost lost ceremony these days, would simply tell the world of his love for her. Get this mission out of the way, and he would shout it from the rooftops.
“I love Shorty.”
The DSI general forced Shorty out of his mind and concentrated on the job in hand.
Chapter 247
Troy Warner proudly carried the case of new “toys” down the ramp and set them on a table. He was proud, because he’d had a hand in their design. He opened the case and Millet looked over the shiny balls, each about six inches in diameter.
‘Pretty,’ said Millet.
‘Pretty impressive, I’m hoping. We have ten. How many should I send out, Sir?’
‘Try three. That will be enough to remote control as it is.’
Warner said, ‘Three it is. Best stand back, General. I’ve only had a little training before we set off for here.’
Millet stepped five paces back, folded his massive arms and stood with his legs slightly apart, ready for the show. Warner activated three of the devices by pressing the red buttons on the top of each of them. A slight whirring sound came from each ball. Then, the top of each ball opened up into segments, and became a small propeller. All three balls stayed in the foam compartments in the case until Warner said otherwise, by using the individual remote controls to increase their rotational speeds. Then, like well behaved puppets, they took off and hovered above Warner’s head.
‘So far so Good, Sir.’
‘Technical Division did a remarkable job to get everything into something so small.’
Warner grinned. ‘A team effort. They can fly for twenty miles, send back high-definition images, then, at the press of a button in the case, can spray a coloured cloud of fine, sticky powder, which will reveal anything invisible.’
‘Are they transmitting ok?’
‘Just one moment, General.’ Warner pressed a series of buttons on the lid of the case. The screen in the lid flickered into life in three dimensional holographic images, protruding slightly from the screen. The slightest touch of sensors flicked from one ball to the next, or all three on the screen together. ‘And away my lovelies.’
With a flutter of mechanical wings, the three shiny balls were gone over the jungle.
Chapter 248
Captain Dorran had finished his post landing shut-down checks and was about to take a shower but stopped to talk to D S I Agent Tilly Jordan at the radio.
‘Get through ok, Tilly?’
‘They got my report, not that there was much of it. Just that we had arrived safely and the General was outside organising things.’
‘It’s still very early back home at the moment. Boss will probably not see it for a few hours.’
Tilly chuckled. ‘Depends if little Dixon has let them sleep through the night. I think Boss escapes to his office if he’s woken up.’
As Dorran was about to step out, the radio hissed out. It was Boss. ‘Got that Tilly. Take care and keep me posted.’ Then it went dead.
‘Told you,’ said Tilly.
Tilly went out to join General Millet and Troy Warner. Warner was getting proficient with controlling three silver balls together.
‘Heck, Troy. I bet you can chew gum and walk at the same time.’
‘Hmm. If you think it’s so easy, are you wanting to give it a go?’
Tilly said,‘Nope. I always respect a man who can keep his balls in the air. Oh. Did you get around to finding out what that writing on the side of the ship was in the end?’
Without taking his eyes off the balls, Warner said, ‘No. Not yet. If the hieroglyphics were from some kind of old Earth language, it would have been easy for the computers to translate into English.’
Millet said, ‘But you translated what was on the monolith, Warner. Surely it wouldn’t be that hard to work out what had been on the ship from that?’
‘You’d think so, Sir, but no. Nothing quite fits. It’s looking like it is actually a different language.’
Millet gasped. ‘And you tell me this now?’
‘Sorry, Sir. It is only my educated guess that it’s two different languages, not definite. The computer is still piecing it together, but it has much less to go on then when it did it with what was on the monolith. Which is why I’m reasonably sure the two are not the same.’
Tilly Jordan said, ‘Like German and English. To an alien, they would look like they could be the same language, but humans would know they were not.’
‘Exactly,’ said Warner.
Millet said, ‘That just makes me nervous. Gagonjet Singh. Over here a minute.’
‘Sir?’
‘Singh. Increase the shooters to two round the clock. One on each ship. You can sort out the details.’
‘On my way, Sir.’
With Singh gone, Millet said, ‘Warner. Now would be a good time to stop playing with your balls and start putting them to good use.’
Warner grinned. ‘I always do, Sir. I always do.’
Chapter 249
Miss Maj Saltoe, Boss’s assistant, stared at Raven with one eyebrow raised accusingly. ‘That is your fourth coffee in one hour.’
‘Your point?’
‘Caffeine overload is no good for you. Go home.’
Boss put down the empty beaker. ‘And when did you morph into my late mother?’
‘You are no good to man nor beast, like you are. If you can’t sleep, go to the doctor and get something to help you.’
‘There’s a baby in my home. I’ll catch up on sleep in a few years time.’
Saltoe wasn’t taking no for an answer. ‘We have everything under control. No need for you to be here. Shoo.’
‘The budget report?’
‘Like when do you ever get involved with those? As I said. Under control. Anything happens on that mission, I
’ll come and get you.’
Raven knew Saltoe was absolutely right, as always. He got up and pulled on his jacket.
‘Ok. But anything big goes down, you come and get me, ok?’
Saltoe nodded and said, ‘You’ll be the first to know.’
Boss slunk off home, and Saltoe had command of the D S I at her fingertips. It was as if all their every command was at her control, demanding to be freed. Press a few buttons, send a message to Commander Gordon, and mighty war-birds could be blasting into deep space. Saltoe could only imagine such an adrenalin rush to be able to command such missions. Sending off men and women into situations from which they might never return. Such exhilaration.
Saltoe had heard the messages from millions of miles away. They had landed safely. The best people and latest technology were on that alien planet. Now, Millet and his army, were up against something potentially more devastating than the creatures on Nyzon five. A possible enemy they couldn’t even see. Saltoe leaned back into the venerated, green leather chair, and could feel the energy permeating through it, from all the Boss’s that ever sat in it.
When the previous Boss had selected her personally from the many administration workers to be Raven’s assistant, she’d had no idea how exciting her life would become. Saltoe closed her eyes and recalled her time on a ship flown by Karma Casey, freeing men from the clutches of the evil drixolate runners, Corey and Fritz. And she, Maj Saltoe, had been the one to “engage the enemy” by blasting away the old prison walls with the ship’s laser cannon. How her heart had hammered in her chest when she had pulled those twin triggers.
Saltoe hadn’t been up in a ship since then, but even when she correlated all the reports of each mission, she felt as if she had been right there in the thick of the action, flying in the super-fast ships to strange planets.
Raven had been right that time, to take her with him to Tryzon on that mission. She had been sceptical that it would help her be a more useful assistant to him. But it did. She understood exactly what was going on with the missions. What men and women of the D S I were putting on the line for the safety of the human race. Maybe one day she would get the chance to go on another mission. She smiled to herself. Yes. That would be fun.