Echo of Tomorrow: Book One (Drake chronicles)

by Rob Buckman

  "Didn't feel like it."

  “Har!” He barked.

  "No, really, I suddenly feel old and tired."

  "Go and get a good night sleep, my friend, it's only after battle blues."

  "You could be right, see you."

  "See you.” The Doctor echoed.

  He decided to walk back to the SBOQ, and with his silent and invisible escort, he walked though the base. Brock and Pete still had patrol sweeps out, looking in every nook and cranny in case a few of the aliens had managed to escape and hide, so tonight Scott didn't complain about the escort. It became obvious that he was one of the major targets in this attack, but it brought up the question of how they had known to attack here, and who he was.

  The BOQ had been swept and declared cleared hours before and a guard placed around it just in case. He acknowledged the salute of the guard and entered, not bothering to switch the light on. If there were aliens out there looking for him, that might draw attention to him position. A slight sound brought him round in a crouch, weapon drawn, and safety off.

  "The only danger you face from me is losing your manhood.” Kat whispered.

  "Kat! What the hell are you playing at?” He hissed in anger. "Christ on a crutch, I could have killed you."

  "You say one more word of complaint, and I leave!” She hissed back. Scott shut up and walked over to the bed, finding her warm naked body alive and demanding as he kissed her hot lips, his hands running down her back to grip both her cheeks, hard. They broke at last and he stripped, sitting on the bed beside her. "God! I should kill you myself!” She muttered.

  "How come.” He gasped, feeling her lips traveling down his body to his abdomen and below. She sat back up, looking him the eye, wet lips shining in the semi darkness.

  "You left the command bunker to go out and chase aliens. You put yourself in danger needlessly.” She said, looking grim. "You have better than five thousand trained Marines at your command to do that!” She didn't bother hiding the suppressed anger in her voice.

  "So why on Earth did you go out there, and try to get yourself killed?" Her nails dug into his skin on a very tender part of his anatomy. Scott gasped softly, knowing he had no excused. He'd done it out of sheer bravado, wanting to show the troops that he took the same risk as they did, and was willing to die for what he believed in. He realized afterward how stupid it was, and by doing so, had actually put more people at risk than need be.

  "You did the same.” He replied. "You didn't need to lead the flight." It was a weak counter argument and he knew it. She was squadron leader, and her place was in the air, not on the ground.

  "Christ Almighty Scott. I almost went crazy when I radioed in to give them an update, and Gunny Brock told me you had just left.” She kissed him again. "God, you drive me crazy.” She whispered, pushing her body against his, demanding he take her.

  "Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?" It was a sucker punch, the only one he could think of on the spur of the moment, and the second it came out of his mouth he knew he's said the wrong thing.

  "Who told you that?” She demanded, and even before he could say a word, she answered it herself. "Doctor Chase!" Climbing off the bed, she grabbed her flight suit and stepped into it.

  "Kat!"

  "Don't Kat me. You had no right sticking your nose into my business, nor did he telling you!” She exclaimed, not bothering to whisper now.

  "Kat I...”

  "Forget it General, go get yourself killed, see if I care.” She snapped and stormed out of the room, bowling the door guard over as she came out.

  "Oh Christ!” Janet remarked. "The shit is going to hit the fan now."

  In fact, it didn't hit until the next morning, and it came from Brock. Scott spent a miserable night, tossing and turning, kicking himself for his own stupidity. All round it had been a fucked up day, and for what he could see, it was only going to get worse.

  * * * *

  "Tell me how Captain Moore got into the General's quarters Sergeant?" He asked in a calm voice.

  "I... I don't know sir.” She answered.

  "Does the expression 'bullshit' have any significance to you?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "So let's start again shall we?"

  "The Captain requested that I let her in, and not tell the General, sir."

  "That's better. Now, did it occur to you that she might be a copy, or a plant?" Janet looked startled.

  "No, sir it didn't."

  "As yet we have no idea what these aliens are capable of. We had just been attack by five thousand of them with the object of destroying this base, and General Scott, or had that escaped your attention?"

  "No, sir it had not."

  "In future I expect a better level of performance from you, especially where the General's safety is concerned, is that clear?" He didn’t have to raise his voice; Janet got the point without shouting.

  "Yes, sir very clear."

  "Carry on then, and send Captain Moore in please." She exited, leaving the door ajar for Kat.

  "You ordered me to report to you, sir!” She said, coming to attention and saluting. Brock returned the salute and sat down. He didn't give her the 'at ease', forcing her to remain at attention.

  "As second in command of this unit, it is my duty to look after the health, welfare and safety of everyone on this base, agreed?” He asked.

  "Yes, sir."

  "You violated base security last night for reasons which I shall not inquire into. That is between you and General Drake.” He stopped to light a cigar, grimacing at the taste.

  "Sir, what I was doing in General Drake's quarters is none..."

  "I don't remember giving you permission to speak Captain.” He said, cutting her off.

  "No, sir." Old habits die hard, and Kat drew herself up to stand at attention.

  "You are a graduate of the Air force academy, and relatively new to the Marine Corps protocol. Here, when I speak, you listen, is that clear?"

  "Yes, sir." Kat answered, anger coloring her face.

  "Good. The next time you wish to visit the General's quarters you just bet you’d better put it through channels, or a sure as God made little green apples I'll have your ass on a platter."

  "Permission to speak, sir. Off the record.” She asked, fuming inside. Brock looked at her for a moment, knowing what she was going to say before she said it, and knowing his answer.

  "Are you sure you want to do that Captain. Remember the old adage about getting what you wished for."

  "Yes, sir I do."

  "All right then, Captain, strictly off the record and the gloves off.” He said, sitting back.

  "You sanctimonious son of a bitch.” She yelled, placing her hands on the edge of his desk. "You have the gall to dress me down for breaking base security. Where were you when Scott went charging out of that door?” She demanded.

  "Taken by surprise for one thing, doing my job second, and thirdly, I knew how he felt."

  "That's a hell of an excuse. You should have stopped him, any way you could. If he’d been killed, where would the rest of us be?"

  "Are we speaking in the singular, or plural?"

  "Damn you Brock, I love the stupid idiot.” A tear ran down one cheek and she angrily dashed it away.

  "So do I Kat, in more ways than you will ever understand."

  "What!” She asked, thinking she missed something. Brock sat there, looking at the tip of his cigar for a moment, wondering if he could explain it to her. He looked down at his desk, feeling his guts tighten.

  "After those assholes detonated the nukes in the States, we let the Cuban's overrun the base at Guantanamo.” Kat had to strain her ears to hear him and she leaned forward. “This unit was so demoralized we quit, and we not only let the Corps down but the country, and ourselves, and we had no excuse. So four American Cities had been wiped of the face of the Earth, and a terrible blow struck at the US of A, but that was no excuse not to fight. America had been struck badly before, Peal Harbor and the bombin
g of the Marine Corp barracks in Lebanon, the World Trade center for another.” He sighed softly remembering what was not ancient history.

  “Yet we gave up, and the Cuban's walked in and took the base, and we didn't do a god damn thing to stop them.” He paused for a moment and stood up, walking over to the window and looked out.

  "Can you imagine what it’s like for a soldier in an outfit like ours?” He asked. He didn't look up to see if she nodded, or shook her head; it wasn't important, only that she heard the words and understood. "I joined the Corp when I was eighteen and became a professional soldier, and I doubt that any of the five thousand men on that base didn't think about committing suicide.” He let out a deep sigh. “Our life was over, in or out of the military. We would from then on be known as the Marines that ran up the white flag and surrendered."

  "Was that so important, at least you were alive.” Kat had yet to get the point. Gunny Brock gave a bark of a laugh.

  "You missed the point girl.” He said softly. "Being alive didn't have any meaning at that point. From that moment on all of us would have been cut off from everything that had any meaning for us.” Even now, the memory left a worse taste in his mouth than this poor excuse for a cigar. “Then we got word enroute to Florida that something was up in the Mid East and our flight refueled in the air, and diverted to the Dhahran Airbase.” He came back and sat down again, puffing his cigar back to life. Coughing and waving the cloud of smoke out of the way.

  "General Scott put us on the line then, much to our surprise. He didn't condemn us, or hold the Cuban incident against us, and never, ever asked us to do anything other than be what we were, Marines."

  "I suppose this has a point Gunny?" She growled.

  "Yes lass, there’s a point. We and a lot of other men went across that border, your fiancée included.” He held up his hand before she could protest, and carried on.

  "We went over that border, and did what we had to do, and repaid a debt to America and the Corps. None of us, your boyfriend, and the General included, expected to come back." That hit Kat hard. She couldn't accept the fact that her fiancée would willing go to his death for a flag, or principle, but he had.

  "Why gunny, why? She cried.

  "Because there are something’s in the world that are worth dying for, not many mind you, but some. We felt that twenty million people were one of them. We didn't go over there because of a flag, or an ideal, we went over there to avenge the death of our mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, girlfriend, and the children that would never play in the sun again." He looked at the weeping girl, as to him she was a girl, in love with the wrong man at the wrong time.

  "Scott put his career, reputation, and life on the line to give us the opportunity to do just that. As it turned out, the fourth Marine Corp Battalion became his personal bodyguard, and we have been doing it ever since. Out of the five thousand of us, three hundred and eighty four came back alive."

  "So he got four thousand five hundred of you killed!” She snapped. Brock nodded.

  "That's right, but you forget, we were dead men walking, so it didn't matter. Scott gave us a chance to redeem our honor, and those of us that survived were reborn."

  "So what's the point?"

  "The point is, that those of us who did come back will do everything in our power to see that the General stays alive, because we have another job to do, and he is the only one that’s stands a chance in hell of getting it done. That's why."

  "What about you?"

  "Me! I'm just an old gunny sergeant who mustanged his way up through the ranks. I'm learning things the hard way that Scott knows instinctually and naturally. One day I may be as good, or better at it than he is, but not yet, and not for a long time."

  "So I broke base security by not telling you I was going to sleep with him, is that it?"

  "I don't care if you jump into bed with anyone on this base, including Scott, that's your affair, just remember, all of us are soldiers, and with that comes the risk of getting killed, you included. If you let that get in the way of loving someone, then you are going to end up a lonely old maid looking back at your life and wishing you taken the chance."

  "Dump or get off the pot!” She murmured.

  "Now you've got it. Dismissed Captain.” He snapped, throwing the rotten cigar into the wastebasket.

  "Thanks Gunny, and you were right, I should have been more careful what I wished for." Kat knew she had a lot to think about, and clearing her flight with the tower she took Lady Jane aloft to think.

  "You are preoccupied today. Is something wrong?" Lady Jane asked, knowing by the sensor readouts in the cockpit material that she was tense and ill at ease.

  "No, I'm all right, just thinking is all."

  "About what?"

  "Do you have to ask so many questions Lady Jane?" She snapped moodily.

  "Yes, you programmed me this way."

  "It’s him again.” She said as a way of explanation.

  "Oh I see. I take it that 'him' refers to General Scott Drake."

  "Correct."

  "He has upset you again?"

  "He always upsets me."

  "This love business is very complicated. One moment you are up, the next down in the dumps, please explain this to me, I do not understand?"

  "Explaining love is like trying to explain taste, it's almost impossible.” She said. That brought silence for a change, at least for a moment.

  "Do you know if you are in love with General Scott Drake?"

  "The answer to that is yes, I am."

  "Then what is the difficulty. If you are in love, be with him when you can and tell him, or show him." The computer had reduced it to simple logic. Kat's laughter filled the cockpit, but there was a bittersweet sadness to it that Lady Jane didn't yet have the ability to recognize. "You are happy again, yes?"

  "I wish I was, I blew it last night, and I don't know how to say I'm sorry." Lady Jane muttered something that Kat didn't catch. "What was that?"

  "Nothing."

  "No, you said something, what was it?"

  "I said that you humans are very confusing. You program us one way and think another, why is that?"

  "Keep learning Lady Jane, and one day you might just figure us out. When you do, please tell me, I'd love to know."

  "That is a contradictory statement. If you don't know why you do things how am I supposed to ‘figure it out’ as you put it.” She answered huffily. Kat raised an eyebrow, thinking that Lady Jane was definitely developing a personality, and that was a surprise.

  She shrugged it aside and headed back to base, wondering how she was going to say sorry. Scott on the other hand found the answer by plunging back into work. After the raid, there was a ton of it to do. This first stop was the hanger with the alien shuttlecraft inside. Techs were carefully ripping the guts out of it, and had different parts spread out all over the floor. Tiptoeing through the mess he found the Pete Mitchell up to his waist in the driver compartment.

  "Anything new Pete?” He asked walking up.

  "Yes, we found out quite a number of interesting facts,” he said, exiting the compartment, “I'll have a report on your desk in the next few days on what we found."

  "Anything we can use?"

  "Hell yes and a few new lines of research."

  "Any immediate conclusions?"

  "Yes, one. Whoever designed this didn't come up with half the possibilities he could have."

  "Run that by me again?"

  "Simple.” He said. "Look at any Earth invention; we develop it to the max, thinking of every use and variation we can think of. In this.” He pointed at the mess on the floor, “we have separate individual, non compatible systems that could all do the same thing, or should act as a backup for the first, yet they don't."

  "I don't think I follow."

  "Look, if we built a radar system, we'd incorporate the capability to scan on different frequencies and at different ranges, plus an IFF circuit and a host of other capabilities, right?"
r />   "Yes, that obvious."

  "In this bloody thing you have a different, separate system for each."

  "That doesn’t make sense."

  "Now you have it. With everything you see scattered around here, we could pack twice as much equipment in half the space."

  "Any luck with the warship yet?"

  "That's on its way to the moon, and we are going to sit down in a crater and take the damn thing apart, but I won't have any data for you for about a month."