Echo of Tomorrow: Book Two (The Drake Chronicles)

by Rob Buckman

  Scott found President Westwood sitting in his day cabin, staring at the screen in horrified fascination, as if he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He looked at Scott and blinked. It wasn’t until Scott looked at the screen that he saw why the president was in such a state of shock. He’d forgotten the suit cams. They showed the boarding action in all its bloody detail.

  “Oh shit!” Scott muttered into his drink. He turned the screen off and sat down. Westwood’s eyes followed him, unblinking and haunted.

  “I …” Westwood coughed to clear his throat. “I never realized until this moment just what being a soldier really meant,” he said at last.

  It occurred to Scott that apart from the video from inside the mother ship, the president had never seen any of the video from the Gulf Wars. Seeing space combat from the bridge during the battle was one thing, seeing footage of the marine assault up close and personal must have come as a shock.

  “I can understand your …” he started, but the president cut him off.

  “You … you killed those …” He seemed at a loss to describe the aliens, “those beings, like … Merciful Allah! You enjoyed it!” he stammered at last.

  Scott nodded. “You could say that. I enjoyed it about as much as I enjoy exterminating cockroaches and vermin.” There was no mistaking the venom in his voice. “As I told my people recently: this isn’t a question of who’s top dog, but a question of survival of the human race. And you’d better get your head around that, Mr. President, or you’re going to end up as food, or worse, breeding stock.” Fatigue made his last words a soft growl.

  “A man by the name of Dave Grossman, a lieutenant colonel in the old US Army, wrote a famous book long ago called, On Killing. I won’t go into the whole thing, but I’ll quote you one of the things he said. “There are civilians, soldiers and the enemy, and likened them to the sheep, sheepdog and wolves. The sheep generally do not like the sheepdog. He looks a lot like the wolf. He has fangs and the capacity for violence. The difference, though, is that the sheepdog must not, cannot, and will not ever harm the sheep.” Westwood looked at him and nodded in understanding.

  “We’re the sheepdogs on the wall between you and the darkness where the wolves hide,” Scott continued. “We stand there and guard you so you can sleep, warm and safe in your beds, and not have to worry about the wolf. We don’t ask that you thank us, it’s not needed. We stand there and guard you because that’s who we are.”

  “But… but why?” Westwood stuttered.

  “Because that’s what we were born to be, and we’re willing to accept the cost of guarding you, even if it means our death.”

  Westwood looked at him, his eyes glittering with unshed tears. “Thank you,” was all he said.

  * * * * * *

  It took two days to finish the cleanup, while different elements of the fleet chased down and destroyed the last enemy ships. The battle inside the alien battleship took its toll, but it was a prize worth the cost. They now had a good example of the lizard’s technology to study, and to find its weak spots. The numb World Council members were rounded up and sent off to Earth on the first available shuttle, only sending the kids through the ring gate. Few council members had anything to say; most just looked about them with tormented eyes, seeing again the carnage and death in which they’d played parts.

  Much to Scott’s delight and surprise, the butcher's bill turned out light. A good number of his ships were damaged, and the casualty list ran into the hundreds, but they had only lost thirty-two people, and for that, he was thankful. That didn’t take into final account the three children who’d died, two boys and one girl. That news affected the men and women of the fleet more than anything else. They were the reason they were fighting this war, and they should not have died.

  After setting a strong picket force out at both warp points, and sending a scout force to try and locate where this battle group came from, Scott brought the fleet back to moon orbit for repair and refit. Only then did he turn over command to Akari and step through the gateway to Earth and home for a rest. First, he had to run the gauntlet of outrage that greeted him. The moment he stepped out of the gateway on Earth his comm unit buzzed, with a message from Admiral Hays to report immediately to his office. He walked in, only to find all of the new high command there. He came to attention, saluted, then stood for ten minutes listening to the diatribe of condemnation of his actions. Between them, he got a dressing down like he hadn’t had since his acadamy days, and he knew every one of them was right. Like it or not, his days of gallivanting around and doing what he wanted were over. He had a job to do, and as one of his butt chewers put it, by damn he was going to do it!

  Scott stood there at attention and said nothing. He had neither defense for his actions, nor for leaving his post, and he knew that underlying their concern was fear. They were scared that without him, it would all fall apart. He felt this unjustified, since no man was indispensable. If he died, then they’d have to find a way to make it work. Yet no matter how hard he tried to pull back and recede into the background and let others take over, the more he was thrust forward again.

  “At ease, Admiral Drake,” Hays said at last, and thumped back into his seat. “And congratulations on a job well done.”

  Scott hid his surprise at the sudden shift in demeanor and said only, “Thank you, sir.”

  Hays looked around. “Steward! Drinks all round.”

  “Yes, sir,” a voice answered from the anteroom, and a moment later Hays’s steward walked in with a tray of drinks.

  Everyone toasted Scott, and the fleet, and at last, they invited him to sit. Scott kept eyeing the time on his wrist unit, but he doubted he could get away until they had his verbal account of the battle, and its implications. In the end, it took an hour before Admiral Hays sat back with a sigh.

  “Go see your wife and child, Scott, and take a few days off. We’ll take care of the repairs and refit.”

  “Thank you, John. I’d better get my butt over there, or my goose will really be cooked.” That brought a chuckle, and after shaking hands all around, he took off for the med center. He’d hoped he could get in without Doc Chase knowing it, but that was a forlorn hope. The moment he set foot inside, Chase nailed him.

  “About bloody time!” Chase snapped in way of greeting. “And what gave you the idea you could go and play marine again? Have you taken leave of what little sense you have, man?”

  “I’ll take the fifth on that, Doc, and claim temporary insanity. Does Kat know?”

  “You think I want a crazy woman on my hands? So far no one has said a word to her, thank god, now get your butt in there and see them.” He gave Scott a lopsided smile and patted him on the shoulder. “Congratulations.”

  Scott entered the room on tiptoe, and found Kat half-sitting in the bed on a mound of pillows, a bundle cradled in her arms. The small night-light at the head of the bed was on, wrapping mother and child in a halo of soft light, and it stopped him for a moment. It was the second most beautiful sight he’d ever seen in his life, and one he’d remember for a very long time. It made him want to work harder to protect them from harm as he wasn’t able to protect for his first wife and children.

  “Hello my darling, come and say hello to your son,” Kat said softly. Scott walked over and carefully sat on the edge of the bed, and looked down at the small pink face nestled between the folds of a white baby blanket. Slowly he leaned down and kissed the tiny forehead, then Kat.

  “I love you,” he said.

  “Really? Then one of these days, you need to make an honest woman of me,” she said, smiling at him.

  “Yes,” he said with a nod, “that was one small item we overlooked.”

  “Not that it matters in this place and time. None of the others are married either,” Kat said, chuckling. It was true. When the children arrived, and they found out who the parents were, each couple had simply paired off and set up house together.

  They talked for a while, between a lot of kissing, until S
cott lay down beside her and slowly fell asleep, looking at them both.

  “Can I see?” a muffled voice asked

  “Lady Jane?” Kat called, and lifting his jacket, she pulled out the crystal block and set it in the bedside table. “There you are,” she said, and pulled back the blanket to show her AI the perfect tiny face.

  “Oh my! I didn’t realize human babies were so small at birth,” Lady Jane whispered.

  “Tell me about the battle, Lady Jane. How did it go?”

  Lady Jane did, all of it, and since Scott had placed no restriction on her, she told Kat everything. Kat didn’t know whether to cry or get mad, and she looked at the man lying beside her, fingers brushing his handsome, boyish face.

  “What am I going to do with you, my love?” A tear ran down her cheek as she said it, and for once, Lady Jane kept silent, as Kat accepted that the man she loved was Scott Drake, and no matter where the trouble was, he was sure to be in the middle of it.

  * * * * * *

  The next day they attended another funeral, made sadder this time by the three small coffins lying side by side in a sea of flowers, and this time Scott felt compelled to say a few words.

  “A long time ago, a great man once said these words … ‘Never, in the field of human conflict, has so much been owed by so many to so few.’” He paused to let the implications set in. “Those words were true then, as they are today.”

  He looked down at the coffins. “They, along with others of their generation, took on the defense of the ship. No one ordered them to, or forced them to sit in the weapons pods, and no one forced them to stay at their posts even after taking damage, and they continued defending the ship. These three children made the ultimate sacrifice.” He looked up at the council members, some stone faced, others weeping openly.

  “Today we honor these children, as we honor all those who gave their lives in the defense of Earth.” Scott stepped back and saluted as the lone piper began to play “Amazing Grace.” The sad, hopeful notes floated over them. Then the assembled company began to sing the words of the old song.

  Amazing grace! (how sweet the sound)

  That sav'd a wretch like me!

  I once was lost, but now am found,

  Was blind, but now I see.

  ’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,

  And grace my fears reliev'd;

  How precious did that grace appear

  The hour I first believ'd!

  Thro' many dangers, toils, and snares,

  I have already come;

  ’Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,

  And grace will lead me home.

  * * * * * *

  Scott managed to spend three days with Kat and the baby, rediscovering the wonder of a newborn, yet he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he should be doing more; otherwise his son, and all the other sons and daughters on Earth, might yet be in jeopardy from the aliens. He angrily pushed away the thought of what might happen if the aliens landed here and somehow got through the security screen. It was as if Kat could almost read his mind, and on the morning of the fourth day she kicked him out, lovingly, but firmly.

  “You have work to do Admiral, so get off your butt, and go do it,” she said, kissing him fiercely. “Here’s a present for you,” she said, and handed him a package. Scott opened it, feeling warm and secure in her love and understanding, and pulling off the wrapper, found he was holding a crystal block. His AI had finally arrived.

  “Good morning my captain,” the block announced in a voice remarkably similar to Kat’s. “By what name would you like to address me, sir?”

  There was even that hidden laughter in the AI voice he’d come to love in Kat’s. For a second he had a sneaking suspicion he’d been suckered. Then he shook the thought away as being unfair to his almost wife, and the programming department.

  “How does ‘Lady Gray’ sound?” he asked after a moment.

  “I like that, my captain.”

  “Good, then that is what it will be. But you might want to remember that I’m an admiral now.” He laughed.

  “All pertinent data is loaded, other than Lady Gray …” Kat leaned over to kiss him and smiled, “… learning your particular idiosyncrasies, so you shouldn’t have any problems.” She didn’t tell Scott that Lady Jane had downloaded all her data to Lady Gray’s memory as well. Scott kissed them both goodbye, running the tips of his fingers down the side of Kat’s face, then his son’s.

  “Look after yourself, my love, and I’ll see you two very soon,” he whispered in her ear, and kissed her again.

  * * * * * *

  Leaving quarters his escort formed up around him while he strolled across the base toward the gateway. His eyes didn’t miss the fact that Janet wasn’t in the lead anymore, and that she didn’t have her captain’s bar on her uniform. She was now a lieutenant again. He was betting that Brock had climbed on her case pretty hard, and demoted her as punishment. That was unfair; it was his stupidity that got them into trouble, not hers. He didn’t say anything though, since that would only undermine Gunny Brock’s authority. But he made a note to himself to get her promoted as soon as possible. If he thought he could make it aboard his ship without anyone noticing, he was wrong. The moment he stepped out of the gateway, a boatswain’s pipe shrilled out the traditional salute.

  “Admiral on deck,” the young duty officer announced, coming to attention.

  Scott returned the salute. “Carry on, ensign.”

  The side boys fell out, and CPO Hardwick fell in step behind him.

  “Nice touch, Chief, who thought up all the fluff and feathers?”

  “New standing orders from the Admiralty, sir.”

  “Oh?”

  “As of 24:00 hours, all naval protocol will be observed on all ships of the Terran Defense Force, signed Hays, Admiral of the Black, Commanding,” he said with a slight chuckle.

  “Hummm!” was Scott’s comment. “I just hope they don’t carry it too far.”

  “No, sir, but it’s tradition, and you well know…” and they said in unison, “tradition is the glue that holds all this together.”

  “Yes, you are right,” Scott said. “Let’s just hope we can continue to uphold it.”

  “I have no doubt about that, sir, no doubt at all.”

  Once in quarters, Scott changed into shipboard clothing, settling down with a cup of coffee and a stack of reports, interspersed with visits from various department heads. He found repairs were well underway, and she should be ready for space again within two weeks. For the first time in a long while, he pondered the effort behind all this. A quick check on yard personnel showed that more than just his people were involved now. Not only had all the original workers come back, but so had an army of other civilian personnel from around the world. Maybe these people couldn’t fight directly, but after seeing the videos of the battle, and hearing from the council members, they had put aside their beliefs to give him and his people a fighting chance to save the rape of Earth’s children.

  The extraordinary effort could only have originated from the office of the President of the World Council, in his belief that Scott and his men could win this fight. Westwood’s self-centered myopia had blinded him to the sheer number of people and equipment now in orbit around Earth. If he thought Scott’s job organizing the fleet into a fighting unit was tough, then, whoever was directing the construction-and-repair effort was a genius. Ships were coming off the ways at an amazing rate, filling the gaps in his fleet. As the newer units came on line, the older ones were passed back for refitting and reassignment to picket duty, training ships, and all the other duties that any navy needs doing. Devon had even added two new classes of ships to his order of battle: a little missile ship, and something he called a gunship. He brought these to Scott’s attention one evening over dinner.

  The missile ships or ring ships were nothing more than a mobile ring launch pad for capital missiles, and dependent on the rest of the fleet for their protection. Scott w
histled at the sheer number of missiles they were projected to deliver, upping the offensive firepower of the fleet by a factor of a hundred. The other ship was a different kettle of fish, as Scott found out later in the week during a regular meeting with Devon and Karl, when Devon handed him a crude sketch.

  “One of your people came up with this idea. What do you think, Scott?” he asked after Scott looked at the picture a while.

  “I’d say, on face value, it’s a wacky idea, but I like it. It has the elements for one hell of a weapon.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “Can you improve on this?” he asked, nodding toward the sketch.

  “Already have, and had R&D take a look.”

  “What about manufacturing? Can you give me cost estimates of time to completion for a prototype with available resources?”

  “Yes, sir, I can,” Devon answered.

  “Who came up with this idea, anyway?”