Hawk Genesis: War (Flight of the Hawk)

by Robert Little

  The introductions out of the way, the clump of people walked several hundred yards to a large farm produce hauler. Everyone climbed aboard and the machine trundled over the bumpy ground toward town, almost a kilometer distant.

  They went to a prefab meeting hall that had been subbing as an additional schoolhouse for the overflowing single school that had to date educated the children from their entry into formal education up through the age of seventeen.

  The townspeople were severely conflicted over the visit – John represented a great deal to hate, but he’d also dumped an enormous gift on them. As a result, there was a scattering of people at the reception. Within a few minutes it began to appear that those present were all parents of school-age children.

  John trained one eye on the two golden haired teenage troublemakers. They used a table covered in food to put a little distance between them and John, the overprotective brother-in-law. Predictably, the three boys found they were thirsty, and very hungry.

  Jessica engaged one of the teachers in conversation. The woman was almost overjoyed over the prospect of a large and fully equipped school, and highly interested in Jessica’s Masters. It seemed that the woman had teaching credentials, and an overwhelming desire to further her own education. John assumed that his education-mad wife would immediately bond.

  John wandered off to sample the food, and as he munched on a local delicacy made out of potatoes, something Maya didn’t grow, Rachel came up to him and reminded him – unnecessarily – that they had to leave in one hour. John looked at her, knowing something was on her mind. She saw his look and came out with it, “Sir, what can you tell me about Karl?” She probably knew more about him than John, who did knew that the Marine had spent a great deal of time and effort to overcome her wounded heart.

  He looked thoughtfully at her, “Rachel, I think the world of Karl. I consider him to be honorable, intelligent and passionate. He is a Marine, not anything else. I have nominated him for a promotion, and I am hopeful it will be granted. If that happens and he accepts, he’ll almost certainly remain in the service until he retires. If I properly understand your question, you are serious about him. What can I say or do to help you resolve your questions?”

  She looked away for a moment, allowing John to take another bite of the potato, and she said, “He has asked for my hand in marriage.” John asked, “And…?” She blushed, “I’m not certain.” John said, “Rachel, apart from any feelings you may or may not have for the man, do you think you are ready to marry?” She said, “I…I don’t know. Possibly. It’s just…it’s just that after Jean, my heart seems to be almost dead. I hate that, but I still cling to his memory, and it feels somehow wrong to consider marriage to someone else.”

  John said, “Have your feelings gradually changed, or remained the same?” She said, “Karl is beautiful, and I would be less than honest if I didn’t admit that I find him very interesting. I have tried to imagine how it would be if we were together, but I just don’t know.” John nodded firmly, although the term ‘beautiful’ had distracted him, “Tell him what you’ve told me. If you aren’t ready, you aren’t ready, and he’ll understand. However, I can think of one reason why he might be pushing you for an answer: he knows that if I am replaced, his Marine detachment will get reassigned. You will as well. That would almost certainly mean you got separated.

  She said, “I know. I just don’t know what to do.” John suggested, “Why not make an effort to satisfy your heart, one way or the other?” She said, “Terrific. How?” John said, “I’ll grant you some leave, same with Karl. Spend the time away from his uniform, and all that that entails to get to know his character, and help him to learn yours.” She blushed, “Sir, are you…” John held up his hand, “No Rachel, I’m not suggesting that.”

  John was only seven years older than Rachel, but he was the Federal Commissioner, and he supposed it gave him a certain stature she thought could help her.

  She asked, “You could do this? You would do this?” John said, “Say the word and I’ll get you transportation to Maya, where we have family. They could put you up and you could spend your days trying to unlock your heart, see what’s inside. It would take both of you out of your comfort zones, put you in a new situation where it ought to be easy to determine how you feel. I have to say, I think Jean would want you to be happy, have children, grandchildren, and I think Karl is a man who would be there to spoil those grandchildren. If you decide, let me know. Soon.” She was aware of the time constraints, although not as stressed as he was.

  John made a point of talking to all the teachers who were present, and as many of the parents as possible. He told them that their contractor would be able to begin construction within days. He also accidentally found himself standing within earshot of the three young farmers who were aggressively attempting to get to know his family, the part not married.

  Eventually, they trundled back to the shuttle, and the two Marines who guarded it; boarded, waved to their hosts and lifted off for the trip to Orleans. John was given a small package containing some of the potatoes he’d so enjoyed.

  During the trip John casually asked Jessica, “Um, honey…?” She laughed, “You are so obvious. What do you want to know?” John grinned, “How did the frontal assault go?” She laughed again, “Jennifer told me not to tell you, right after Jordan told me not to tell you.” John sighed, “What if the Federal Commissioner for Grenoble offered you immunity?” She snorted, “I’m open to offers of a different sort, hint, hint.” John suggested, “Perhaps a trade?” She shook her head, “You make a terrible negotiator. I’ll get what I want without giving anything in return. Well…” She snickered and hugged him, “The boys were very taken with my sisters, who enjoyed the attention, but failed to respond as the very attentive boys would have wished. For one thing, they are too young, and for another, they live too far away.” John asked, “Too young? They are a year older than the girls.” She said, “Yes, and they were still too young. Honey, age, and maturity are not wholly chronological.”

  A week later John received notice that Admiral Grigorivich had been hospitalized. He was not expected to recover. Admiral Ybarra was elevated from Fleet headquarters to Fleet Commander. As such, she now faced one single rebel planetary system. She’d spent nearly her entire career buried in one headquarters or another. As far as he knew, she’d spent no more than six months in fleet, and that was in command of Fourth Fleet, the Military Space Transport Command, consisting of several hundred freighters. His guess was that she’d accepted that post merely to get her ticket punched. He supposed that now that the shooting was virtually over, her supposed abilities as an administrator might bring some order and fiscal responsibility to a service awash in waste. In time of war, waste was better than losing a planet here and there, but if she didn’t understand that the primary role of the military was to enforce the will of Congress, and to kill and destroy if necessary, then the Navy was in trouble, and since the Federal Navy was the primary glue holding the almost forty planetary societies together, so then would be humanity.

  John convened the constitutional convention, and offered a very short introduction. He aimed for a speech that was blunt yet loving. He told the assembly that Grenoble’s future lay in its hands, and urged it to rapidly adopt the constitution. Speaking relatively bluntly, he told the three hundred and seventeen delegates that he assumed that he would be replaced with a civilian commissioner, and that person, whomever he or she was, would have different attitudes, and pursue different policies. He said, pointedly, that the sooner the planet got back on its feet and integrated its economy with the rest of the federation, the sooner Congress would end its direct control over Grenoble and her people. His words were met with utter quiet.

  He still had two small warrants, and after talking to the Schwartz family, he decided to award one to the school system in St. Germaine. It was enough to build a new elementary school, and the condition was that the town had to name it after Professor and Mr. Schwartz.
Rachel laughed with delight. Her parents felt uncomfortable, but John didn’t care. He delegated Rachel to take the warrant to her hometown, adding to her parent’s discomfort, but he greatly hoped it would make not a few people in St. Germaine feel equally uncomfortable.

  The final warrant he issued to the Orleans City Council, instructing it to use it to refurbish its offices – the army had carelessly done a great deal of damage to that building as well as others.

  Orleans adopted ‘his’ constitution, making him feel odd. Assuming the federation managed to mend its many broken fences, the legacy of John’s presence on Grenoble would endure, possibly for centuries.

  Rachel was a very unhappy woman, and seemed unable of making a decision, so John took matters into his own hands. He called her into his office and said “Rachel, as Commissioner for Grenoble, I am considering ordering you to undertake a diplomatic mission. It would require that you deliver a package to Producciones Padilla, the company that manufactured the two shuttle engines we obtained. After delivering the package, you would be required to wait for an answer. I don’t know how long it would take, possibly two weeks? Anyway, you’ll have to wait. Padilla will arrange for housing, and since this is important I’m sending along an escort.”

  Revealing a hint of anger Rachel said, “Sir, I’m not ready for this.” John said, “In that case, I apologize. Understand – this may be the only opportunity I have to help. That said, I’ll not speak of this again.”

  She fled his office, making him wonder if she was upset enough to quit.

  An hour later, Karl asked to speak with him. John pointed to the door and the marine closed it with just a hint of extra force. John stood and said, “Sergeant, I attempted to intervene in your private lives, managed to hurt Rachel’s feelings, apologized and promised not to meddle again. That about sum it up?”

  Sergeant Mischkovic stood at attention, and asked, “Sir permission to speak?” John nodded, “Sir, Miss Schwartz refuses to speak to me. I was going to ask if you knew something, but your admission answers any questions I might have.” He stood silently, obviously stewing, before asking, “Sir, what exactly did you say to Miss Schwartz?” Aha! John recounted his offer to send Rachel with a Marine escort to Maya. Karl asked an interesting question, “Sir, was that offer genuine? Do you need to send someone to Maya?” John said, “Grenoble’s shuttle program is ramping up nicely, but they’re having trouble building the shuttle engine. Their design for a fighter drive can generate sufficient lift, but it has to be run near max, and will fail far sooner than wanted. They require a larger drive that they can run at lower power settings for longer periods of time. I think Padilla on Maya can produce twenty or so drive modules in much less time. We’ve got two drives on hand, but they’d run into a shortage very quickly without a temporary supply. Since I’m indirectly related to the Padilla family, I can’t ethically sign any contracts, but I think I can request a small number of drives at cost.”

  Sergeant Mischkovic asked, “Sir, is this important enough that you would send someone else if Miss Schwartz refused to go?” John hesitated only briefly before answering, “Yes, if Lt. Cdr. Chamberlin was present, I’d send him. Grenoble needs an infusion of income, and this project is virtually the only viable prospect that puts a lot of people to work and generates a positive cash flow for the planet. Too bad potatoes mass so much, they’re delicious. Um, sergeant, on an entirely different note, and assuming you put in your thirty, do you have any thoughts as to where you want to hang your garrison cap?”

  Karl’s eyes went blank, “Sir?” John said, “Maya has need of colonists, even mentally challenged Marines.” Karl said, “Sir, my brain is rarely ever challenged.” John struggled to maintain a straight face, “Sergeant, your brain is as smooth as a billiard ball.” The sergeant smiled faintly, “Possibly sir, yet it works well enough to remember that in thirty minutes you are scheduled to spar with your trainer.”

  John laughed, “Spar, sergeant, the emphasis is on spar; meaning no broken bones, no concussions, no incapacitation.” Karl said, “Sir with my limited mental faculties, aren’t you afraid I may not remember all those restrictions, the ones that reduce all the fun?”

  John grinned, “Afraid? Hell, I’m terrified.”

  The next day John and his Marine bodyguard visited the shuttle assembly line. The first craft was taking shape. The structure was essentially grown in one piece, and was now being machined. The skin was ready to be attached once the skeleton was ready, and after the components were installed. The shuttle would essentially have a drive at one end, a pilot’s compartment at the other, and six identical cargo hatches that could open individually or in any combination, resembling a flower. Current shuttles were assembled in three pieces and glued together in a final assembly. This approach would require a longer construction phase, but make for easier maintenance, and should mean that the craft could be operational for significantly longer than present designs. It was an elegant yet reasonably low-tech solution for a developing planet. John walked through the plant, meeting as many of the people as he could, constantly encouraging everyone to put their heart and soul into the enterprise.

  As they boarded their shuttle for the return trip, Sergeant Miscovich asked, “Sir, I have been watching how you talk to these people; it’s as if this is your home, and these are your people. Sir, I’m not objecting, or finding fault, but I am seriously interested in why?” John answered, “Karl, for five years humanity has been solely focused on killing, on separation, hatred. As a race we have to either learn to live with each other, and learn how to see beyond our relatively petty differences, or we continue digging our grave.”

  As the ungainly craft rose up into the sky, the sergeant asked, “Sir, what will you do when you return to civilian life?” John sighed and settled more comfortably into the worn cushion, “I suppose I’ll return to being a history professor.”

  After over a minute of silence, Karl asked, “Sir, permission to ask a question?” John nodded. “Sir, with respect, you don’t sound happy about returning to your old career. If I may offer an observation, you are not the same man you were five years ago.” He looked as if he wanted to say more, but stopped short, relieving John, who commented, “The war has changed us all sergeant, and there’s no going back to the way things were. Since coming to Grenoble, I’ve changed in ways that surprise me. I’ve had to try to build instead of destroy. This is…what I’ve been doing here is so much better. Sergeant, these are good people; we’ve been killing each other for years, and now that the war is essentially concluded, we’ve got to learn how to…not just get along, but learn to become family again. We’ve lost so much, and I’m not just talking about the tens of thousands of lives; I mean, we were once one people looking up at different suns. The war – sergeant, the war was fought over whether we have the right to destroy millions of years of evolution on a planet we didn’t ourselves evolve on, and replace it with our own bacteria. In the process, we’ve destroyed a piece of our own humanity, we’ve lost our racial unity, gained at unimaginable cost after thousands of years of war. I don’t know if we can recover from that. I just don’t know.”

  Sergeant Mischkovic looked at his boss, whose head was turned to look out a vision port as the craft soared through a second layer of thin clouds and into painfully bright sunlight. He said, “Sir, do you believe in destiny?” John looked to his left, “Destiny? Explain please.”

  The sergeant opened his mouth, closed it, and then said, “Sir, you can’t go back to being a professor. If you do, you’ll be miserable; but sir, I don’t think you’ll get the chance. That’s what I meant about destiny. What you are doing here is incredible sir. In just a few months you’ve got millions of people talking about the future instead of war. You are helping them build schools and factories, and you stood between them and the punishment and recrimination that other millions of people actually crave. Sir, you are correct – we can’t go back, but especially, you can’t go back.”

  John looked at h
is best non-brother friend, “Karl, how on earth can the same man who effortlessly takes me apart on the mat and routinely bruises my ego, say things like that?” Sergeant Miscovic nodded, “Sir, I have eyes, I can see your pathetic moves before you make them. I see you. One other thing? Unless you order me not to, I’ve decided to speak to Miss Schwartz. I think she must go to Maya. I’ll stay here, but she needs to go.”

  John said, “Sergeant, if Rachel goes to Maya, she’s getting a Marine guard. You think of her as a federal, but other people see her as coming from Grenoble, they’ll just see a rebel.”

  Sergeant Mischkovic said, “Sir, that is so unfair.” John nodded, “I don’t see much of a future for her, here on Grenoble. I’m working on it, and you need to allow me to work on it.” The Marine said, “Sir, understood.” John looked out the port and grinned – he’d already broken his promise – made earlier that same day - not to interfere, and the good sergeant hadn’t objected. He stopped grinning, wondering who maneuvered who?