by Unknown
Yeager smiled. “Yea Captain, you just gotta see the possibilities for yourself. I know I did lots of times.”
“Well, this is more 20th Century in its makeup than 24th Century. You have much more expertise than I do in this type of warfare. I could blaze down there with particle beams firing and it would all be over in less than a minute. But Mike Wilkes is right. We must protect these people from going too far, too fast. So I need to find out from you where we go from here. What is your cut on this?”
“No guarantees, Pard. But remember, these jokers ain’t seen anything like Andy and me in our Mustangs. They know nothing about aerial projection of power except maybe to transport troops. They won’t know how to defend against us, and they won’t know how to get away. From everything I’ve seen, between Andy and I, we can clear that playing field,” Yeager said. “Besides, when you get right down to it, it’s the only option that works, isn’t it,” he said with a twinkle.
Dickson smiled. “Within these parameters, I have to agree.”
“Of course if they get a hundred of those things out before we get down there, I can’t guarantee a thing. But if that happens, our losing two old fighters will be the least of your worries,” Yeager said. “That’s the problem with command, Captain. You’re always left with alternatives that can be a whole hell of a lot better or worse than the one you’ve got. And a bus load of people to try and second guess you after it’s over. So the best thing is to do what you think is right and go for broke.”
“At least I can count on you and your friend to give it all you’ve got,” Dickson said looking at Yeager’s weathered face. “And I can be in a position to come in and save the day.”
“I’m just a computer graphic, Captain, based on the thoughts and skills of a man long gone,” Yeager said with a wizened look. “But you just keep in mind, Andy and I are the closest thing to light cavalry as you got,” he said with a widening grin. “And if anybody’s gonna save the day, It’s gonna be me.”
Dickson’s face spread in a wide grin. “I stand corrected, General.”
Yeager chuckled. “Knock off the general stuff. The name’s Chuck. And somebody said you wanted to take a ride in a Mustang,” he said as he took Dickson by the arm and began walking with him to the opposite end of the hanger.
It was getting early in the afternoon when the Catalina reached the coast and began to follow the river upstream to Brana’s stronghold. Mike had called and verified that there was no boat activity on the river. The colonel then asked Thompson questions about how often the convoy of trucks traveled the road from the city to the base and the times of day. After getting his information, the colonel went back to the radio section and continued to pour over the maps generated for the operation.
Up in the engineer’s seat, Rokka kept a close eye on the fuel settings and oil pressures on the engines. He also adjusted the engine cooling flaps on the side of the engines to adjust the air flow and regulate the temperatures. Finally he regulated the carburetor fuel settings so that optimum efficiency was achieved in the cylinders. It wasn’t physically demanding, if you discounted the leaden feeling of his backsides, but the mental strain was tremendous. Rokka didn’t complain because that was his job on this trip and he attacked it like he did all his jobs - with everything he had.
Panor sat up forward and peered through the turret over the barrel of the .30 caliber machine gun. Soon after they had taken off that morning, he had gotten the chance to fire the gun and was surprised at the noise and shaking it made. But it would be fun if they ever got to actually shoot at something. He looked down at the bombsite. He had no idea what a bombsite was for, but had been taught to use it and figure out wind drift. Little did he know the importance the Norden bombsite had nearly half a millenium before on another world. Nor did he quite understand the importance of getting wind drift information to Hadaie for his navigation. He mostly sat and watched his world drift by 8,000 feet below.
While Mr. Ramey dozed in the radioman’s station, Hadaie had kept totally involved in navigation and some other tasks, which moved him about the aircraft. Like the other men, he seemed fascinated with the workings of the individual components of the plane and how they worked together. Occasionally he would talk to the others and share some information or express an opinion. Most of the time, however, he was busy making sure Mike would get to his assignment on time and at the right place.
Panor actually flew most of the day. Mike had been up several times to stretch his legs and converse with the colonel and the others. Although he was used to an ultralight aircraft to fly, Panor quickly took to the big old plane and how it sailed through the air. A few times, he had banked the plane slightly and then back to see how she responded, always to the worried looks of some of his passengers. He glanced up at the whirling blades of the two radials and wondered how they even stayed on their spindles. Spinning at a couple of thousand times per minute, he could imagine what was happening inside those engines and what would happen if one of the propellers did come off. Looking over at the airspeed indicator it was registering 110 knots. Panor had driven his automobile faster. But this vehicle was not bound to roads and a straight line to their destination was the best way to go, even if Hadaie put them on a course that looked like an arch. Further glances told him that their height was at 8,000 feet; whatever that was, and their course, as given by Hadaie, was being maintained. He had helped Mike trim the airplane earlier and as a result, didn’t have to work too hard at flying it. It still surprised him how every so often they had to trim it again because they were using fuel.
The Major busied himself with cleaning and readying the .50 calibers. Like most Marines, he knew the value of keeping his weapons clean, lubricated and ready. By the time he was done with them, they shined. The rest of the time, he spent looking out the Plexiglas of the blister and trying to figure out what all was happening. He had been the one to spot the large formation of ships heading south. Everyone on the plane had been excited to see a fleet on the surface of the water. They could see each ship itself as the tip of a shaft of white as their wakes churned up the sea. Of interest was how clearly they could see the ships from so very far away and so high. He wondered if the ships could see them.
Mike was starting to get antsy. His normally calm demeanor was gone and he was constantly up looking around and checking on things. The closer he got to their destination, the more nervous he became. Sitting at his seat, the colonel chuckled to himself. He had seen it time and again - the calm and thoughtful planning, then the closer to the operation how the nerves would start to take their turn. That would change when they got there and then build again to its height just before the jumping off point. Once the operation started, you didn’t have time to be nervous. Mike came by and looked at the map he was studying.
“What have you got, Colonel?”
The map was covered with information on boat patrols, convoy times and numbers, shuttle movements, the times each day of visible evolutions on the base, anything that might be of use to them.
“It’s all here, Mr. Wilkes. Everything we know about their operations,” he said. “Once we get there, we can scout out a few things then make some final plans.”
“Any first impressions?” Mike shouted over the engines.
The Colonel nodded. “Too routine. This Brana is very detail oriented and a stickler for efficiency. For example, these truck convoys into town leave at the same time each day and are usually back within 30 minutes of the same time each afternoon. The boat patrols go out at 7 and come back by 10. Foot patrols are in these areas and usually start at about the same time. With each area roughly the same size, that means they all complete a round at the same time. Very predictable,” the Colonel shouted. “Right now, I’m looking hard at this convoy from town. It might be a good way to sneak in. I’ll know more tomorrow when the Major and I have the chance to check it out.”
Mike nodded in understanding. Sneaking in would be big task. Once in, the job was to get to the t
argets and blow them up - easy with the devices they carried. But it all hinged on getting in.
“We should be getting there any time now,” Mike said. The Colonel nodded in acknowledgement and Mike turned back to the cockpit. Panor was gesturing madly before he got there.
By the time he got strapped in, Mike could see the edges of the large base in the distance. He motioned for the Colonel to come forward and grabbed some binoculars to get a better look. The base spread out before him and Mike could see it almost as well as he had on the Lexington. He motioned for Panor to let him fly the plane and he eased the throttles back some and allowed the Colonel to get a good look. After taking a few notes, he looked over at Mike.
“That’s all I need to see,” he shouted.
Mike nodded. “Hang on,” he shouted as he put the PBY into a tight turn to port, turning away from the base. During the turn, Mike spotted the small lagoon like pocket in the side of the wide river that had been selected for them to hide. Easing the throttles back even more, he told Panor to start the landing checks. Mike flew the plane down river a few miles to get out of sight from the base, then turned back upriver and selected a long flat area of the river that was near the center. With the checklist complete, Mike eased the throttles back to near idle speed and let the lumbering flying boat ease toward the water. He flipped the hydraulic switch and lowered the wingtips, which also acted as floats. With just a slight kiss they were down and settled easily into the smooth water. Mike then opened the throttles and guided the plane toward the lagoon.
Trees lined both sides of the river and partially hid the entrance of the little lagoon. There was just enough open area for the plane to get through with about 10 to 20 feet on either side. Mike spotted a huge set of trees to the right of the lagoon, which hung over the water. Turning towards them, he eased the plane as close as he could to check the height of the branches.
Hadaie opened the blister and walked up the tail to the top of the wing between the engines. Judging the height of the branches he quickly motioned for Mike to move forward. Using his pitch control, he eased the plane forward while flipping another switch to lower the wheels. As the plane slid forward slowly, the branches cleared the propellers by a good 3 meters. The landing gear locked down just before the front gear touched the muddy bottom. Mike then feathered the props and shut down the engines. They were finally where they needed to be.
Two hours later, the men had moved the plane so that it was facing away from the shore and had covered the entire front section with camouflage netting. A small fire had been lit and a meal prepared. After savoring a good hot meal, the men sat around the fire and talked. All were grateful for being able to get away from the noise and vibration and take a few minutes to just be themselves. Hadaie had set up a small device that kept the insects away, unknown to their Theran comrades, and the fire spread its warmth despite the cool breeze from the river.
Jim Ramey sat back on a small log and leaned against the trunk of the remnants of a tree. The moon peering through the trees and the sounds of the insects in the woods were very peaceful to him. He let out a sigh. “This sure beats sitting on the ship and studying a sensor console or getting the latest data on some society or another,” he said.
“It is peaceful,” the Major said. “I used to go on campouts in woods like these when I was a boy.”
“Same here,” Ramey said. “All those nights with the other guys around a campfire like this are hard to forget.”
“I used to be a part of an organization called the Troopers that would camp out several times a year and learn a lot of new things. It was a lot of fun.”
“We called them the Boy Scouts. I was with them from the time I was seven until I was 18,” Ramey said. “I guess that’s why I went into the Space Fleet. Just couldn’t get the scout out of me,” he said with a smile.
The Major chuckled. “I know what you mean. The Troopers got me where I am today,” he said reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a well-worn, but very sharp pocketknife and tossed it to Ramey. “Had that since I was 9. It has been a faithful friend ever since.”
Ramey studied the knife. The handle was scarred from hard labor, but it was also worn smooth from years of fingers sliding and gripping along its length. He opened the blade and was gratified to see a clean, oiled and very sharp edge. Rubbing it along his arm it shaved the hair completely off with one stroke. Ramey reached into the pocket of the coveralls he was wearing and pulled out a knife of his own, throwing it to the Major. The knives could have been twins for all the care given to them. They tossed the knives back to their owners. The Major lifted his coffee cup in a salute to a fellow trooper. Ramey acknowledged his fellow scout with a raised canteen. The look on their faces showed an understanding between the two men.
Josen looked up from his own thoughts and asked, “What is it like traveling through the universe in a big space ship?”
Ramey looked over at him. “It’s something you get used to, being on an enclosed ship for long periods of time. But every day you get to see new things and sometimes meet new people. I guess since Sharon and I got our commissions, we have visited over 200 worlds, met countless people and were able to help out most of the people we met,” he said shifting his seat. “There’s always something new, something different to see and do. We liked the variety,” he said. Then he turned to the Colonel and the Major. “It’s a lot like you men in the military. Your men always make things a little more exciting or challenging and you get tasked to do the impossible sometimes. But when you make that impossible thing work; man what a feeling,” he said.
The Colonel had been sitting with his eyes closed. He opened his eyes slightly and glanced at Ramey and smiled. “No truer words have ever been said. I feel the same way, Mister Ramey,” he said standing up. “That and duty. A fit combination for anyone,” he said as he walked toward the plane.
“Someday I hope to be able to go into the stars and see things no one on this world has seen before,” Josen said repeating what one of the team had said earlier. “I’ve known Mike and Jo since they got here almost. And if all your people are as good a friend as they are, I’m really going to like it up there.”
“People are people,” Mike said walking up from the plane. “We have some good ones and some bad ones, but I guess most of us are alright,” he said looking down at his feet.
Mister Ramey gave him a serious look. “And a lot of us have to learn the hard way sometimes too. We all learn by doing things, even when we’re wrong, we can learn,” he said.
Mike took a look at Mr. Ramey. He knew who he was talking about, but Mike had still not asked his father to come with them. He nodded and lifted his eyebrows. “Yes, I guess we all can learn. At least I hope we can,” he said turning back toward the plane.
Josen had a quizzical look on his face. After Mike had gotten beside the aircraft, he looked at Ramey. “What was that all about?”
Ramey chuckled. “Just some decisions that had to be made and some other lessons learned,” he said standing up. “I’ll fill you in later. In the mean time, we all should sleep on the plane tonight. It will make our stay a lot more comfortable than sleeping on the ground.”
The others nodded and started toward the Catalina. The Major used some water to put out the fire. Within a few minutes, the blisters were closed and the lights inside turned out.
The rehearsal had lasted nearly 12 hours before Hal pulled Jo aside and said enough. He had seen her like this only once before, when they first started giving concerts. She was so determined to be perfect she had nearly exhausted the members of the orchestra. It was only when he showed her the time that she realized how long they had been at it. She looked back at Sharon and Mary with little Mary in a small bassinet. With the exception of three times when Mary needed feeding, Jo had been on her feet pushing and driving.
She looked back at the men and women before her and lay down her baton. “I’m sorry to have kept you so late,” she said. “As you know, there has been a
lot on my mind lately. I will share with you that the same man that took my son ordered me not to do this concert,” she said with some force. “But I am determined that no one can threaten us when we are in the right.” The people in their seats began to applaud her. These were true professionals and they respected her for her courage and determination.
“Don’t worry, Maestro. We shall not let you down,” Hal said. The others continued their applause and some even rose to their feet. “Shall we meet back tomorrow morning say about 9 a.m.?” Hal asked.
Jo nodded. “Thank you all,” she said. The musicians began to tiredly gather their things and move toward the door. Jo went over to Mary and Sharon. They had remained there for the entire day as well. Sharon was knitting a small cap for Mary out of pink yarn.
“It is sounding beautiful,” Sharon said between her knitting. “And the chorus earlier was wonderful!” she said.
“Sit down and rest some,” Mary said clearing a place for her.
Jo sat heavily in her seat and began rubbing her feet. “I didn’t realize how long I was standing up there. The doctor wouldn’t approve,” she said smiling.
“He didn’t,” Mary said. “He came by earlier and said we should get you back home.”
“And what did you say?” Jo asked.
Sharon grinned. “I told him I wouldn’t dare to stop you and he shouldn’t either,” she exclaimed, emphasizing her point by pointing the ends of the knitting needles at her. “He told me that when we get home we should rub some of Shala’s salve on your feet and legs.”
Jo looked surprised. “Our learned physician is resorting to conjures and folk remedies?” she asked grinning.
“It didn’t help when I told him it was working better than any of his treatments,” Mary said sarcastically. They all laughed at that one.
The last of the musicians left waving at Jo as he went out the door. The big rehearsal hall was empty and quiet. Sharon stood and put away her knitting. Then she turned to Jo who was resting in her chair. “Come on little girl, let’s get you home,” she said, gathering Jo up and moving toward the door. Mary picked up the baby and followed. On the way out, she turned the lights out.