by E. N. Abel
''Good speech,'' the Russian admitted. ''Scared the hell out of me.''
''Stand to Attention, sir!'' Mike sounded serious. Surprised the Commander obeyed, stood rigid. ''I order you to take your wife to this location,'' Mike produced a booking form, ''and to stay there with her till tomorrow 12:00. There is your transport.'' Pointing to a waiting car he pressed the reservation into his One-O's hand. ''Execute your orders, sir!''
Dimitri performed a sharp turn, linked arm with his wife and marched off. One peek at the paper had explained it all: the place was by far the best five star resort around. With it's own mile-long beach and a whole landscape full of heated pools ...
After the last transport had left, it was time for their own families. Only the core crew now remained on the field: the six original A-Shaitan, their Russian friend and their spouses. There was an extra bus parked on the side.
Marlene linked with Mike and steered him to her waiting family: her father, mother and brother. A little afraid of the forthcoming encounter, she stepped forward to greet her parents.
Her father was an impressive man. In his fifties, tall, slender, dark-haired and clean shaven, with an angular face and an aura of authority, apparently intelligent and physically fit. He had a scathing humour, sometimes coming over as standoffish, even a little arrogant. Her mother, on the other hand, presented a sharp contrast: also in her early fifties and of medium height, slim, with light blonde, shoulder long hair, an upper-class, smart face and very feminine curves. She still was an absolute eye-catcher, wearing an attractive, figure-accentuating dress. Both parents were academics. Marlene had told Mike about her family a week ago; that her father was actually a professor of political science at a local university and strictly anti-violence, anti-gun; even an anti-war activist in his earlier years, and her mother a top lawyer working for a well-known human rights organisation.
After a hug and a kiss Marlene introduced her fiancèe to them, worried about their reaction: ''Mom, Dad, '' she said, ''this is my partner Michael.'' And to Mike: ''This is my father George and my mother Brenda. And that toad over there my big brother, Billy.''
That earned her a broad grin from the lad: ''I love you too, Leni.''
Mike bowed, offering his hand first to Marlene's mother: ''Ma'am. I'm very pleased to meet you. How do you do?''
Unexpected for Marlene, her mother beamed, pushed Mike's hand gently aside and gave him a hearty hug. Then, stepping back, but keeping her hands on Mike's arms, she said more formal: ''I'm fine, thank you. And I'm very pleased to meet you, too. How are you?''
''Also fine, thank you.'' A warm smile, then Mike turned to Marlene's dad: ''Sir. My pleasure.''
George Chandler took his hand, shook it shortly and let go a bit too quickly. ''Mr MacMillan.'' His voice showed clear disapproval, his stiff salutation drawing a line between them.
Marlene wondered whether this greeting was because Mike had lured her father's baby daughter on a dangerous mission or because he rejected Mike for political reasons. That would hardly be surprising: Mike represented about everything her father loathed.
While she was still wondering, Mike shook hands with her brother, a tall, blonde man in his early thirties. There was no animosity towards her lover noticeable.
''Our transport is over there,'' Mike finally said, waving to the last bus. ''The bridge officers have their own hotel.''
''A separate location?'' Mr Chandler asked pointedly. ''You fear anyone of your staff jumping ship?''
''Not in this life time,'' Mike replied serene. ''Each and everyone has proven him- or herself beyond doubt. Literally under fire.'' Registering his prospective father-in-law twitch, he went on: ''It sounds like we've got a lot to discuss, sir. If you will ...'' motioning towards their transport.
They all turned, and as they walked over, the others followed them. Chan, Alex, Ralf and Andrea, all with parents. Just Acar and Margaret were alone.
''Where are your relatives?'' Chan asked Acar, curious. She was walking beside him, linked in with her mother.
''They didn't come,'' Acar replied, sounding indifferent. ''My family doesn't approve of my life style and my choices. So they stayed at home, in Cologne.''
''I'm sorry to hear that,'' Chan immediately returned.
''That's alright Chan, I'm used to it,'' Acar answered, giving her an excusing smile. ''I'm not the only one without visitors. Mike's parents are idiots like mine, they didn't come either. And Margaret's are no longer alive.''
Marlene sadly realised that she was not the only one with family problems. But at least her parents had shown up. They reached the bus and got in.
Chapter 125
Cape Canaveral
Sunday, 08.01.2017
The late morning rays of an already warming January sun found Marlene Chandler and her man, wrapped in cuddly blankets, lying in deck chairs on a wonderful Florida beach. The tide was coming in, and a cold wind pushed landwards.
Marlene was full of thought. The evening with her family had been a lot less controversial than she had feared; she suspected her mother to have had a word with her father in private, warning him to control his passions. So the discussions had mainly moved around the Group's achievements, the upcoming adventure and Marlene's role in all this. The only 'deviation' - a stinging remark from her father about an atomic explosion over Peking - had ended abruptly when Marlene had told them about the preceding ICBM attack - they hadn't heard that little detail before. It had left her mother horrified, her brother open-mouthed and her father cooled off. But it also had left a bitter taste ... the daughter of a strictly humanist family actively involved in a slugfest with nuclear weapons ... her father hadn't commented on that incident, but his eyes had held a wordless accusation.
The inland wind weakened a bit, pulling Marlene back into the present. She felt tense and uneasy.
''You were serious, yesterday, weren't you,'' she broke an hour of silence. ''I mean about the risks of our mission...''
''Absolutely.''
''How come? You always seem so ... driven, so sure. And now, on the brink of reaching your goal, you flinch.''
Mike smiled into the cloudless sky. ''It's a leadership thing, sweetheart.''
''Meaning?''
''Well,'' Mike answered, ''take a look at our situation. We are forty now, forty people of which just one has extensive space experience - and that in Earth orbit only - twenty one have very little experience collected on a one month space trip, a three day crash course on EVAs and the adventure of setting up an air castle in an airless environment. However, eighteen of us have never been to space and have received no preparatory training of any kind. Now twelve of us are ex-military - with academic credentials or fitting qualifications, the remaining twenty eight are civilians with equally high skills.'' He turned to her. ''What do you make of that?''
''Are you turning my concern into a quiz?'' Marlene, still agitated from her father's wordless accusations, replied with a somewhat peeved undertone. She clearly felt patronised.
Looking at her Mike reached out, took her hand. He always did that when he wanted to explain a painful truth to her, and her feeling of being patronised increased.
''See, not long ago,'' he said, ''you told me you wanted to be at my side, share a life with me.''
That surprised her.
''Now I will tell you what this really means, the price tag, so to say.'' Mike took a breath, then went on. ''Do you recall the accident on the Moon? The one with Andrea?''
''You mean when she ripped her suit?''
''Yes.''
''I remember.''
''If the rescue attempt would have endangered the ship, what would you have done?''
''Me? What could I have done?''
''You were on duty, at your post. And just happened to be the highest ranking officer present on the bridge - NAV-One.''
''So?''
''So it automatically made you executive officer, XO. In command of the ship and responsible for its safety.''
Marlene looked open-mouthed at him: ''I wasn't aware of that ...''
''I know. Nobody told you. But it was clear to every ex-soldier on board: the century old rule of precedence.'' He bent forward, now very serious. ''Sweetheart, you must always remember this, burn it into your brain forever. On a dangerous mission - and ours easily falls into that category - there is an ironclad rule: survival of the many always supersedes survival of the one. Like that Vulcan motto: the needs of many ...'' He paused shortly. ''If there had been the slightest chance that Dimitri's rescue action had endangered the ship, it would have been your superior duty to keep him out. Shut the air lock. Maybe even actively fend him off. Keep the ship safe, no matter what the price. Even if Andrea would have died. Or Dimitri. Or if it had hit me. Let ourselves get killed to save the others.'' A quick glance told him that she felt rather shocked now. Mike smiled quickly, then continued. ''Your father understands this, too. On an abstract, intellectual level, that is. But he never had to act on it, make a real choice, give the command and - pay the ultimate price. Our military crew complement understands, too - but they actually had to make such choices: the impossible decision. Let one friend die to rescue two comrades. Such is the nature of our endeavour, this is as serious as it gets.'' Mike took a breath. ''I had to make clear to each and every one what his or her fate can be. Wipe out any childish adventure fantasies they might have and give the undecided and timid ones a chance to bail out.''
Marlene stared at him now, not knowing what to say.
He sighed. ''Besides that, there is more. You, as my partner, as my wife, have an especially difficult position.''
''I already realised that I'm treated differently since I am with you,'' Marlene observed, ''With more ... I don't know ...''
''Respect?''
''Yes, respect.'' Astonished she looked at him. ''Especially from your friends. And that's just because I share your bed?''
''Darling, you are no lone university graduate any more. You are the Captain's mate now - on a real spaceship. And this has to have some effect.''
''You mean, the soldiers will look at you, the non-military crew at me. Because I am your wife.''
''Correct. Because you are the woman at the leader's side.''
For a while Marlene contemplated this in silence.
''And one more thing,'' Michael added. ''Since you are now the alpha-woman in this tribe, other women will come to you, ask you for advice, for favours or for help. Sometimes for help with me.''
''How nice.'' She clearly didn't like that idea.
''How will you react?''
''Depends on the issue, I guess. You have any suggestions?''
''Do you really want to hear them?''
''Absolutely.'' She sounded firm.
''The secret is to always remain committed. Never say no if you don't mean it. Don't say yes if it should be a no or a maybe.'' Astonished she looked at him; this was not what she had expected. ''If you can't answer it on the spot,'' he went on, ''temporize. For example you can say: I have to think about it. Or: tough one. I will need some time for that. If they press on it, tell them that you, here on the spot and without reflection, can only decline. If they are willing to wait, it will give you time to think it over. But always, always get back to the inquirers and give them a concrete answer. Even if the answer is no. Remain committed.''
''How can I prevent myself from getting lost in all that?''
''Use the supreme principle of leadership.''
''And that is?''
''Integrity. Absolute Integrity. To yourself. To your captain. To your crew. You are a decent and well-educated person. Your values are fine. Trust yourself. Your gut-feeling is often right.''
Marlene swallowed, took a breath. ''Wow. Tough one.''
''Oh yes.''
She turned fully to Mike: ''Ellie knew all that, right? She could handle such situations.''
''Yes.'' He paused a moment. ''But one: remember where she came from, and two: she has chosen another path. You are boss bitch of the wolf pack now, the ball's in your court.''
''I am afraid ...''
''... not to be fit for the role. That it might be too much.''
''Yes.''
''Well, welcome to the world of leadership.''
''So what do you expect from me?'' That came out a bit insecure.
''Same as I expect from each and everyone of us, sweetheart, same as from us all.''
''And that is?''
''Your very best.''
Marlene leaned back, feeling overwhelmed.
Chapter 126
Cape Canaveral
Sunday, 08.01.2017
Mike and Marlene stepped out of the government car onto the wide concrete platform. The two spheres were floating above their landing positions. Mike still marvelled at the sight: they definitely looked more like two giant Ferrero Rocher candies than actual space ships. To think that the original design was based on a fucking fifteen meter weather balloon... Mike gave a deep sigh, then looked at the guards. The ships were surrounded by a tight ring of US Special Forces soldiers - courtesy of Colonel Warrington. When the couple approached, the soldiers all stood at attention, then opened a passage. Mike could not resist, he had to walk around the ring, to search for familiar faces. And he found one.
''Gunny Westmoore! You're still alive!''
''Lieutenant MacMillan! Out of uniform, as always!''
The men shook hands, big smiles on their faces.
''How are things, Gunny?''
''Good'nuff, Lieutenant. Got stuck with your techno gizmos lately, ordered to take a look.''
That got Mike interested. ''And?''
''Impressive work.'' The Sergeant reached into his breast pocket, withdrew a small note pad. Handing it over he said quietly: ''Give that to that Russian no-goodnik. Tell him he owes me a bottle of Mother Russia's finest.''
Mike laughed. ''Will do, Gunny, will do. Anything I can do for you?''
A strange glitter appeared in the man's eyes: ''Oh yes, Lieutenant.'' He hesitated. ''I would ...'' and broke off, obviously embarrassed.
''Don't you turn sissy on me, Gunny!''
''Well, sir, I know it's selfish, but ... but I really would like to see the planet from space before I kick the bucket.''
Mike was taken aback a bit by this wish, not by its nature, just because it was so unexpected. He caught himself: ''Ready to lay down some work for that?''
The Sergeant shrugged: ''Sure. I have enough time.''
Mike reached into his jacket and pulled out his communicator, pressed it and said: ''MacMillan to Warrington.''
It took a second: ''Lieutenant?''
''Sir, I could use Gunny Westmoore for some feasibility tests. Could I borrow him for a few weeks?''
The other end seemed to consider, then the answer came: ''Hey! You're trying to steal my best man! What are you offering in return?''
All three knew that the decision had been made and the bickering was just for the fun of it.
''What do you want?''
''Well, if my sweetheart here is to fly to Mars, I might need a way to talk to her - without minutes of delay.''
Mike understood that Nora Coleman was listening in at the Colonel's end. He also knew that she would never be part of the first missions. But the request made a lot of sense, of course: a quantum link to the Mars team would make a world of difference for NASA. He sighed theatrically: ''OK, two more comm modules. One for your lady friend and one for mission control. Adjusted exclusively for NASA communications. But the Gunny gets his own space suit.''
''Done. I'll even throw in a few bottles of Desert Spirit. Pleasure doing business with you, Lieutenant. Gunny there?''
''Yes, he's listening.''
''Congrats, Sergeant, you just won yourself a stay in a fifty foot nutshell full of farting and snoring people. Sleeping in smelly submarine bunks. Eating canned food. And no smoking at all.''
''Sounds like something I always wanted, sir,'' the Sergeant answered, laughing.
'
'I hereby redeploy you to the command of Lieutenant MacMillan for an unspecified period. Get rolling, Sergeant.''
''Yes, sir!'' The man turned, was gone.
After a minute Warrington's voice came up again: ''Thank you, Mike. I owe you.''
''Nothing to it, sir.''
''Oh yes, it is. Gunny's clock is ticking.''
''How so?''
''Cancer. The lung. Chemo is over. Has his medication with him. Three month on the outside.''
''Never saw the Gunny smoking ...''
''Remember that nerve gas attack on the camp? Iran, 2012 ... Margaret got hurt, too. She was the more lucky one.''
''Yes. Damn bastards. Well, Margaret will watch over him. De oppresso liber!''
''De oppresso liber!''
The connection broke.
Marlene had followed the exchange in silence, now she threw a questioning look at her partner.
He just smiled. ''That old fart has saved our asses countless times. He serviced our equipment in the dessert - meaning our weapons. Not a single failure in three years.''
''You owe him.''
''And big time. A true blood guilt.''
''So it's payback time?''
''Yes. Finally.'' Mike looked at the lovely girl: ''Not all payback is a bitch. Alex will be delighted. The Gunny is an absolute ace when it comes to technical riddles. He will pay his fare a hundredfold.''
Marlene smiled shortly, then was distracted, pointed: ''Look!''
An Air Force bus was approaching, then stopped a few yards off. Forty people in the uniform of Twisted Spaces jumped out, came over to the couple, gathered in a semicircle in front of them, a broad smile all over their faces.
''Nobody's missing,'' Marlene whispered astonished. ''Mike, we are complete! What a vote of confidence!''
Mike smiled, then shouted: ''OK, you sissies, had enough of sand and beaches? Ready for some action?''
A massive ''Hurray!'' was the answer.
''Commander!''
Tjurin stepped out of the group, moved to Mike.
''Stand at attention, sir!''
Dimitri reacted promptly, stood straight and rigid.