Silver Enigma

by Rock Whitehouse

  Whittaker carefully handed David two signed certificates, one his commission as 'An Officer and a Gentleman' of the ISC Fleet, carrying Admiral Davenport's signature, and a promotion to Lieutenant, signed personally by Admiral Whittaker. Powell took them as if he were Moses, taking the tablets from the hand of God.

  "Sir, I'm not sure what to say."

  "Well, you know old salts like me appreciate good manners. A thank you would be in order at this point."

  "Of course, sir, yes, thank you, sir."

  "Yes, well, I also have orders for you. You're going home to talk to FleetIntel, then to Columbia. Chaffee will take you and your data back home today."

  "Today, sir?"

  "To-day. FleetIntel needs that data as soon as we can get it to them."

  "Dan Smith is commanding Columbia now, isn't he sir?"

  "Yes. Something of a mess there for him to clean up, I guess. Seems your class is everywhere these days."

  "What about Sigma?"

  "Sigma is a yard problem now, Mr. Powell. I've assigned a Senior Lieutenant to command while we patch her back up. Kondo will stay on as Engineer since The Drive was not damaged. Lieutenant White will ride back with you and assume command. The surviving crew is also relieved and will be reassigned."

  David nodded his understanding. "They're a good crew, sir."

  "No doubt about that. Good luck, Mr. Powell. We're done here."

  David stood, saluted the admiral, and left the office.

  In the outer office, a rail-thin six-foot female Senior Lieutenant stood talking to the Admiral's yeoman. She turned as David exited the Admiral's office and looked at him with very clear blue eyes.

  "You Powell?" she asked in a voice that seemed a little too high for her size.

  "Yes, ma'am."

  She grinned crookedly at the formality. "I'm Peg White."

  She extended her hand. The handshake was firm, almost painful.

  "I understand you have just set the record for least time in grade for an Ensign in Fleet history."

  "I suppose so. Sure was a surprise to me."

  David's face reflected the fact that he still hadn't quite absorbed what had just happened.

  She nodded.

  "Well, in wartime all kinds of surprising things happen. Sometimes enterprising warrant officers even bring in a ship and crew nobody, but nobody thought had survived."

  She kept him fixed in place with those eyes until the smile widened slightly.

  "Come on, Powell. You need to stop at the Fleet Store and then escort me out to Sigma."

  "Fleet Store?"

  "Yeah. Last time I checked L-Ts wore silver bars, not the Rings of Saturn."

  Peg White took him through the station, to the Fleet Store where he had to show the promotion to obtain a new set of insignia. That done, he stopped at the Admin office for upgraded ID and received new pay information, account numbers, and new security access keys.

  "I need a few minutes, Lieutenant White," he said as they left Admin.

  "Call me Peg. You're an officer now."

  "Oh, well, OK, thanks. David."

  "What do you need time for?" White looked at him quizzically.

  "I need to send a thank you note."

  Peg White laughed out loud, and half pushed David further down the hall. A right, a left, a long corridor and they were at the commissary. David sat as Peg drew herself a coffee, then sat down across from him, He typed for a few moments, paused, continued, paused again. He read the final version three times.

  ROUTINE 207807110915UTC

  TO: ANTARES/CDR TERESA MICHAEL

  FROM: LT DAVID POWELL

  SUBJECT: COMMISSION

  I AM SURPRISED AND DEEPLY APPRECIATIVE OF YOUR EFFORTS ON MY BEHALF.

  I WILL DO EVERYTHING POSSIBLE TO BE WORTHY OF THIS HONOR.

  PLEASE ACCEPT MY SYMPATHIES ON THE LOSS OF YOUR FRIEND LEN DAVIS.

  HE WAS A GOOD MAN, AND I WILL MISS HIM.

  BEST REGARDS,

  LT DAVID POWELL

  END

  He hit the Send button and then began a second message, this one for Carol Hansen. The first part was easy, then it took him a long time to decide how to say what he wanted to tell her.

  SLIP PERSONAL 207807110915UTC

  TO: ANTARES/SLT CAROL HANSEN

  FROM: LT DAVID POWELL

  SUBJECT: COMMISSION

  WHATEVER YOU DID AT INOR, WE BOTH KNOW YOU DID IT YOURSELF.

  I NOT SURE HOW TO THANK YOU FOR MY RECLAMATION. BUT I PROMISE TO TRY.

  COMING HOME VIA CHAFFEE ETA 29 JULY.

  LOOKING FORWARD TO THE SUNSET.

  DAVID

  END

  They made their way back to the shuttle the Admiral had loaned to the Sigma personnel, docked on the opposite side of the station. They talked as they worked their way through the busy passageways.

  "I read your Fleet Action Report. What's your opinion of what went wrong?"

  "Hard to say. They were tracking us for sure."

  "That's pretty obvious." She said without insult. "Question is, how?"

  Powell nodded grimly. "For sure. We think it might have something to do with the SLIP system, but I don't know what."

  They navigated the rabbit warren of corridors and offices until finally, they came to the shuttle port. FPI SLT Kondo was waiting at the docking portal when they arrived, having made his own report in the FPI offices elsewhere on the station. David introduced Kondo to his new commander, and together they boarded the small shuttle. Kondo noted Powell's promotion.

  "Well, Lieutenant, next time you'll have to take command with no arguments, eh?"

  They laughed as they boarded the shuttle. The ten kilometers to Sigma passed in pleasant conversation.

  Peg White watched the ship grow outside the forward windows. "Let's take a turn around her. I want to get a better feel for how she was hit." Peg instructed the flight crew to move up to the mangled bow of Sigma. She pulled her phone from her kit, swapping seats with the co-pilot, to get as close to those front windows as possible. The command pilot, a slightly overweight blond Warrant III, eyed her warily as they approached the ragged mess that was the forepart of Sigma.

  "Stop here," she directed.

  Like a coroner making an initial examination, Peg looked over the entire scene, then took some specific shots, adding voice annotations to each. The starboard side showed a distinct 'exit wound' where the blast had pushed the structure of the ship outward. Up forward they saw the shattered Bridge windows, with only a few panes unbroken. The strike had pushed them outward towards the starboard. To port, they say three clear 'entry' wounds. What David would never forget was the destruction forward and the ragged strands of wreckage that seemed to dangle in space. There was another entry hole amidships, in the Weapons area. As they came close, David looked at that wound for a long time, long enough that Peg White had the shuttle stopped near it. What had been a relaxed and talkative ride became very quiet. Peg waited a few moments to see if Powell would move on, but he didn't.

  "Someone we cared about in there, David?"

  He blinked back to his surroundings, looking away from Lisa's death and back at Peg.

  "I cared about all of them, Peg."

  She continued to look at him with some sympathy.

  "But you didn't stare at the other damage, so?"

  She left the invitation open, and now the warrants who had started out matter-of-fact were now also watching and listening. Finally, David relented and spoke.

  "She was a year behind me at the U. Aboard ship we were friends. I think she would have liked it to be more, but...She deserved better than this."

  "They all did."

  "Indeed." After a moment David asked, "Are we done here, Lieutenant?"

  "Yes," she said, brightening her tone, "we are. Let's get aboard and complete the turnover."

  They moved to the docking port, linked up, and went aboard the now-quiet ship. Most of the crew had already left, and the ship was maintaining itself just enoug
h to support the few left aboard. Sigma would remain in this low state as long as she was in the shipyard. They walked through the half-lit passageways to the Intel section, where the command console remained assigned. Peg connected to the main computer network and downloaded the ship's state to her tablet. She reset the command console to her own control and did a few setups to enable the repairs to go forward. It only took a few minutes, and by the end, she was in command of Sigma and David and the rest of the crew were electronically relieved. David last saw Peg White walking forward out of the Intel office to get a closeup of the intact bulkhead forward. She was already in full engineering mode, in charge, and impatient to get on with the task ahead of her.

  Abe Jackson and Sally Gray had waited for David. Now fully relieved, they returned with him to Tranquility II. It was a very quiet trip. They embraced one last time as they docked. They'd each have a very different path from here, so for all they knew, this was goodbye for good. It was another hard moment.

  As he stepped off the shuttle back on Tranquility II, his phone buzzed that he had a message.

  SLIP PERSONAL 207807111500UTC

  TO: SIGMA/CW2 DAVID POWELL

  FROM: ANTARES/SLT CAROL HANSEN

  JUST GOT THE GOOD NEWS FROM CINC.

  THIS IS HOW IT WOULD FEEL TO BE A SINNER PAROLED FROM HELL.

  MUCH SADNESS HERE FOR CDR DAVIS, LEAH, LISA, TRAVIS AND THE REST.

  CAN'T WAIT TO HEAR YOUR STORY.

  CAROL

  END

  He read the second line ten times before it really sunk in. Like a sinner paroled from hell is how she feels now that she knows he is alive. He thought about how much pain it must have caused her to believe that he was gone. He was again amazed at what Carol could tell him in just a few words.

  Late in the afternoon, David walked down a long, dimly-lit passageway leading to an open airlock beyond which was Chaffee, his ride home, and his new life. He carried a backpack of personal stuff and a duffel with his uniforms. He tried to walk at a steady, relaxed, officer-ish pace but as the hatch grew in his vision he felt a nervous weakening in his knees and stomach. He fought back the feeling and managed to both not run and not fall as he came to the hatch. There was a young Marine and a very short Lieutenant minding the access to the ship. As he approached David nodded acknowledgement to the officer.

  "Good afternoon, Lieutenant. David Powell reporting."

  As she checked the access list on her tablet she replied "Good Afternoon, Powell."

  She extended her hand and gave him a firm, sincere handshake.

  "I'm Rios. Congratulations on the promotion, and on bringing Sigma back."

  "Oh, so you've heard?"

  "Duh, yeah. Mister Powell you are gonna be big news back home. Big. News. I'd bet on that."

  "I hadn't thought of that. I hope not."

  She shrugged. "Well, whatever, you're in deck two cabin fifteen. Happens to be vacant so you get lucky."

  "Thanks very much."

  "Captain's gift. Or, luck. Whatever."

  "Either way, I'll take it."

  "Karma, maybe, right?"

  "Sure," he responded, secretly hoping this conversation would be over soon.

  She flipped a couple screens on her tablet.

  "Captain says dinner 1800. He's not a stickler but don't be late."

  "On time, will do."

  She waved him on through the hatch, and he found his way to the quarters she'd specified. He flopped on the naked mattress and smiled at his sudden fortune. So much had changed so fast, so much had been lost and gained, he hardly knew how to absorb it. But every few minutes he'd take out his phone and read Carol's message again. LIKE A SINNER PAROLED...

  "Yeah," he said to himself aloud, "somehow that is never going to get old."

  It would be long, wonderful, torturous two weeks back to Earth.

  Fleet HQ Shuttle Landing Area

  Ft. Eustis, VA

  Saturday, July 30, 2078, 0800 EDT

  David fidgeted nervously during the trip down from Chaffee. The data chips with the Sigma tracking data, the full FDR dump he made after the battle, and the after-action reports were in his backpack on the seat beside him. His duffel was in the cargo compartment. Ground personnel would transfer it to the BOQ for him after they landed.

  His only job today was to get the Sigma data delivered to FleetIntel. He tried not to look at his silver bars, still so self-consciously shiny on his collar. He still could not quite believe they were there, or how they got there. But here he was, and there they were. He tried, and mostly failed, to suppress a boyish grin about the whole thing.

  But that's not what kept his knee bouncing rhythmically for two hours. Antares was still here, he knew, and he was pretty sure there would be a familiar face waiting for him when he departed the shuttle. What would he say to her? How would she react? He fretted about overthinking it and saying something too intellectually cool and about underthinking it and saying something kinda dumb. Maybe he should just let her speak first? Maybe he should trust his instincts since being himself was how he got here? Maybe he should just stop thinking about thinking about what to say?

  Despite his impatience, he was somehow the last person off the shuttle. He was looking down at his feet as he stepped off the last step, not wanting to rush and fall flat on his ass at this moment, and as his last foot hit the pavement, he was broadsided by something very hard and very soft that was suddenly all around him. He reached around her and held her as close to him as she did him to her. They stood there, silent for a long time, as the shuttle crew walked carefully around them, amused at the reunion. They'd seen this kind of thing before.

  "Carol-" he started to say.

  "Well, yeah, who'd you expect?" she said brightly, and they let go a little as they laughed together.

  She pulled back, locking his hands in hers, and looked at him, hard, as if studying his face. He was doing much the same. She wore a dark blue SFU polo, white shorts, and sneakers. Her hair was in a ponytail, large sunglasses perched on her head. She used those frequently to hide her too-famous face a little. To David, she maybe looked a little older, a little tougher, but she was still more beautiful in person than his best dreams of her while they were apart. They turned to walk off the landing pad, arm-in-arm, Carol holding him very close.

  "I'm sorry-" she said quietly in his ear.

  "Sorry?" he asked, surprised.

  "Yeah. Sorry to have taken so long. Too long, to see."

  Now clear of the shuttle area, he stopped her and spun her in front of him. He slipped his hand behind her neck and pulled her forehead to his, her brown eyes just centimeters from his.

  "I will never be sorry for whatever it took for us to be right here, right now. Never."

  She smiled, and they turned and started the long walk around the golf course to Fleet HQ. David slung his backpack over one shoulder, his other arm over her shoulder, and Carol put her arm tight around his waist.

  "You've got the data for Harris?" she asked after they had gone a little way.

  "Yes. I need to drop it off then I should be free the rest of the day. I'll be at the BOQ tonight."

  "Harris will want a briefing next week."

  David nodded.

  "No surprise there, we have a lot to talk about."

  They walked on a bit more, savoring the moment, before David spoke again.

  "So, what are the plans for Antares?"

  "We're going back. Looks like we'll need a few weeks here to get ourselves together."

  "I have orders to Columbia - Dan's ship."

  She nodded in response. "I heard that from Cook the day CINC told me about the commission. It will be a good first gig for you. He knows you, knows what you can do."

  "I hope so. It will be weird to see Dan as a Lieutenant Commander. Hard enough to see you as a Senior."

  She shrugged.

  "I aced the test, I get extra credit for Inor, it's not a mystery."

  David smiled.

  "You got i
t because you're wonderful and you earned it."

  "It's true, I am just that maaarvelous!" she said, laughing.

  They walked together in the warm morning sunshine, either arm-in-arm or holding hands the whole two miles. She thought back to the last time she had walked this path, how much pain she felt and how kind Jack Ballard was to her, despite her reactions.

  "Columbia isn't due for several days," she said as they approached the HQ building, "and I am off until Monday."

  "Good," he said, quietly.

  "Very good," she responded.

  As they made the last turn off Mulberry Island Road towards the HQ building, she slipped her arm around David again and pulled him very close, and he returned her touch. They walked through the front doors of HQ, out of the hot, humid Virginia morning and into the very fresh air-conditioned space. The security tech looked up, and Carol saw a familiar face.

  "Technician Orr, are you here all the time?" she asked brightly. Orr returned a wry smile.

  "Just lucky, ma'am. So, who's this?"

  Orr verified David's identity and sent them down the hall to the Intel Section. As they entered the Intel section, they found CW3 Kelly Peterson at the desk. She looked up as they entered.

  "Good Morning, Lieutenant Hansen."

  She shook hands with Hansen, then extended the same to David, introducing herself.

  "Lieutenant Powell, a pleasure. The Admiral tells me you have some data for us?" David unslung his backpack from his shoulder and pulled a small case from one of the outside pockets. Opening that, he removed a plastic bag with two data chips.

  "Yes, Ms. Peterson, here they are. This," he said, picking one up, "is the FDR dump I did right after the battle. It has the tracking data as well. This other one has all the after-action reports we could gather on the way back to Tranquility II."

  Kelly took the chips, placed them in individual cases and set them aside.

  "I will get those into Admiral Harris' safe for you."