Cavalry

by Thorby Rudbek

  As Judy repeated her announcement, the door on the smaller Aircar swung up and the double doors on Magic Wagon slid sideways out of the larger opening. Baynes’ rather superfluous directions did not delay the troops; they dashed out and checked the vanquished, ensuring no one remained alive to threaten their expeditionary force and retrieving the weapons and ammunition from the nearby dead. Kirrina and Richard walked over to each other and he embraced her as she stood forlornly before him.

  “You did what you had to do,” he assured her as she buried her face in his shoulder. He brushed her hair with his lips, sharing the turmoil she felt and sensing the inevitable drain of energy. Over her lowered head he could see two of the vanquished enemy, crumpled awkwardly against the side of a burned-out crate.

  A very sober Eric led Judy to the smashed entrance of the hangar, past a badly damaged civilian vehicle, his thoughts divided fairly equally between a concern about desperate citizens running wild and the fearsome power Kirrina had wielded, one capable of turning moderately matched marauders into mindless mêlée murderers.

  “Now that shows what a fine day it is in Cold Lake AFB!” An obviously exhausted soldier heaved himself out of a crouch from low behind a stack of scrap metal – an effective, though non-standard armoured barrier – his face breaking into a big grin. His thick winter coat was torn on one sleeve; the other was glistening with smeared grease. His assault rifle smoked as he swung it away from the incoming unarmed personnel, but his eyes were still focused on the grey-whiteness outside as sunset gradually drew near.

  Kirouac and Brisson nodded at him as they moved into the gloomy interior.

  "Ooh-Rah!" Two Marines hastily deployed at the makeshift barrier, giving firm shoulder slaps to the lone defender, having been assigned to bolster the line in case any further anarchists approached. One of them passed a curved, 30-round magazine to the Canadian.

  He grinned and pocketed the welcome ammunition, muttering gruffly: “Welcome, leatherheads!”

  The remaining Marines moved through the hangar to check out the security of the facility perimeter.

  Richard kept his arm around Karen as he urged her to move deeper into the security of the hangar ‘innards’. He steered his wife past stacked crates, making sure to connect with her again physically by removing his glove and sliding his hand around her shoulder and onto her neck as soon as they were out of the direct impact of the wind and snow.

  “Where’s Major Ulrique?” Eric asked a weary and grubby brown-skinned maintenance worker as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, wanting to meet the officer that Karen had mentioned with such admiration.

  The Pakistani pointed at a canvas-covered form on a large storage box in a space by the wall of the hangar.

  “Oh.”

  The hangar contained a number of Canadian Hornet fighter aircraft without any obvious damage and a large number of obviously non-military survivors – obvious, because a lot of them were children. Kirrina sighed. She was pleased to discover that some of the families of the pilots, ground crew and other base personnel had been brought into the facility, but realised from the surface thoughts she quickly scanned that the ‘round-up’ had attracted the attackers and cost the lives of a number of the defenders. Where is Latt?

  As if in answer to this question, Judy came up to them with a bright-eyed man in tow. His face was bruised on one side and he seemed to be limping.

  “Karen, this is Latt Jusstinalss!” Brisson exclaimed with obvious relief and pride, almost stumbling over her words as she rushed to deliver the good news. “He used his hand laser, some Gravity Inducers that were in here – the rest are in the hangar where Wonderloaf is located – and power from the Eliminator reactor in the next hangar, just back of this building, to provide power for the development of EDEM Two to help fight off–”

  “I’m Richard Fletcher. Good to see you!” Richard interrupted this over-long explanation and he grabbed the shorter man by both shoulders and held on tight.

  Latt smiled back at him, a worn, lingering, hopeless expression now fading as the reality of the return of his fiancée began to sink in at last. “This weather – I believe it is caused somehow by the Controllers.” He looked at Kirrina, wondering why the name he had just heard sounded familiar, and saw something in her face that made him wonder about the unfamiliar ones involved in the rescue mission.

  “I’m Kirrina Fletcher,” she smiled at him, though the smile was strained. “I believe you are from a Narlav planet that used to be an old Arshonnan colony world. May I touch you? I have mental communication capabilities that would allow us to share a lot of information very quickly.”

  Latt just stared at her, the concept of Arshonnan humans sounding entirely new to his ears, and the idea of mind-linking to transfer knowledge even stranger. The significance of the always-paired Citadel names suddenly surfaced in his consciousness and he pulled back.

  “It’s all right, Latt,” Judy reassured him hastily. “We were wrong. Richard and Karen – or Kirrina – are not our enemies. They are the Cavalry!”

  Baynes found the small assembly and interrupted with a concern about the continued safety and security of the large group they had rescued: “I’ve been speaking with Captain Osgood. It seems Colonel Bayard is dead, too, and she – the Captain – is the highest authority remaining. There are a lot of people here, and some more in another building a couple of kilometres away, where most of the pilots gathered as the weather ‘socked in’. I can’t see how we can make this place secure, and, in any case, it’s just too cold here!” He leaned closer and continued in a quieter tone: “Unfortunately, we do not have the means to transport these people out of here today!”

  Kirrina nodded, slightly irritated by the presumptive, largely inaccurate, somewhat obvious and unhelpful comments from the NUIT chief. I guess he doesn’t remember the Hercules aircraft they have here! Her awareness of these versatile resources had come to her during her initial ‘mind-skimming’, before she had implemented her ‘final solution’, decimating the marauders. Quite the self-important man! What’s he going to be like once he’s restored? She was still aching to find out more about Latt’s home planet but found herself having instead to maintain a ‘perimeter watch’ mentally in case any of the wild antagonists outside decided to try again. In addition, though she did not want to admit how much her energy level had been depleted by her earlier actions, she realised the situation could potentially be too much for her to handle. She looked over and located the Captain as she approached: Tall – at least, she’s three inches taller than me(!) – boyish red hair and blue eyes. Looks strict, but really isn’t.

  “Hello, Captain Osgood!” Kirrina shook the outstretched hand, finding it cold but strong. “I’m Karen Fletcher.”

  “Good to meet you,” Silvia Osgood responded, a slight smile briefly softening her face as she correctly discerned the position of authority this very young woman held so lightly but so self-assuredly. Her eyebrows raised at the strange sensation of depletion she felt during the brief physical contact. She looked around the assembled group. “Good to meet all of you!”

  “We brought your NUIT team back – as nothing else seems able to get off the ground in this ‘snow-fest’, except our Aircars.”

  “Aircars?”

  “I’ll explain more in a minute. But first, could you tell me: how are your defensive supplies?”

  “We have a large number of hand guns, ten rifles, but only a few magazines for them… I think the Marines you brought have redressed that problem, though. Our sergeant can give you more details.”

  “Okay, we’ll check with him. In case you don’t realise, the opposition has been dissuaded from action, at least for a while. It should make this situation a little less treacherous.” Kirrina grimaced as she noted the irony of her own words. I don’t need to ask her why they turned on their own countrymen – the same kind of thing is probably happening all over the world, as frightened men, and probably some women, too, lash out in what they justify as ‘
pre-emptive strikes’ to ensure their own self-preservation. That selfish kind of paranoia even made my task easier – they were already suspicious of each other, it didn’t take much to light their fuses. “You’ve done well. I’m glad we could get here when we did.”

  Richard noted the Marines had settled in with the small force guarding the shattered side entrance and the main hangar doors further down the building, so he turned from Latt and called the local army sergeant over, following up on his wife’s comment. “What’s your take on the situation here? Could you maintain this refuge until we get transport out of here organised – maybe tomorrow? Under Captain Osgood’s direct command, of course.”

  The young non-com seemed to stiffen as he steeled himself for what seemed an impossible task. Kirrina came closer to her husband, picking up on the heavy load this young man had increasingly inherited, as others were incapacitated or killed, and gestured to Latt to watch her next move. I know Captain Osgood will, too!

  “I can explain to you – in great detail – the situation beyond your perimeter. It just takes a simple touch.” She looked at his young face and wondered how he was handling the latest revelations of the day. She waited until he acknowledged her request, and then reached her right hand to his cheek. It seemed to go very quiet in the vicinity of the little group of rescuers and rescued, as all, especially Latt, observed. The fresh-faced Canadian stared off into the distance as he relaxed into the mind merge. After a full two minutes, Kirrina pulled her hand away and spoke – for the benefit of the watchers:

  “I gave Sergeant Hansen a summary of the disposition of the remaining hostile forces, and promised to kill or drive more of them away before our departure. He agrees that any remaining opposition we miss will probably back off and not give them any further trouble after I have done this.”

  “No problem, Ma’am.” The Sergeant nodded, amazed at the clarity of the intelligence he had so effortlessly received. “Happy to be of service, Captain.” He saluted Captain Osgood briskly.

  “You’ll do great, Tim.” Kirrina smiled at him, using his family-preferred moniker to remind him of their almost instant closeness. “Captain? I think I should give you some ‘intelligence’ too.”

  “You seem to be good news for us!” Silvia Osgood nodded, determined to put aside her reservations so she could maximise the chance she had to preserve her haphazardly collected military and civilian charges. I think Ruth Hardy would tell me that my world is about to get a lot bigger!

  Another period of some two hundred seconds passed, ending as Karen shook the Captain’s hand, aware that the hug she would have preferred to share was one she needed to defer, for the sake of military morale. I’ll give her one when they get down to New Leeds!

  “Mrs Fletcher! Thank you! You can come to CFB Cold Lake anytime you like!” A surreptitious wink followed this comment, and then the Captain turned aside to confer with the sergeant.

  “You see?” Kirrina resumed her conversation with Latt, her expression asking if he felt able to undergo the same process. He looked from her to the young soldier, now animatedly explaining something to Captain Osgood as they walked away, and from them to Judy’s still smiling face.

  “What do I do?”

  “Just don’t fight it,” Karen told him gently, and she reached out and touched his face just as she had touched the young Sergeant. This time a five full minutes passed, with the waiting not seeming to bother anyone, except perhaps the NUIT chief. Finally Kirrina stepped back a little and broke her gentle contact.

  “I think you are right.” Latt seemed to be responding to a question, though the others had not heard it vocalised. “I only ever knew that I was from the Narlav world known as Rhaal, but as I now know, the Arshonnans… that’s my own ancestors” – here he looked at Judy – “settled that world several hundred years before the Controllers attacked and captured it. It seems that the legend of ‘Forn’ is partly true, at least. From what you’ve given me, the colony was called Foruna – the same length of day – though the colony data you gave me makes it sound like it was a much cooler place before the Narlavs started polluting it!”

  Judy hugged him, relieved to hear that his mysterious past was now becoming less so, and looked at Kirrina with grateful, shining eyes.

  “I think we should leave a couple of the Marines here for Captain Osgood, under Sergeant Hansen’s command, of course.” Kirrina winked at the plucky soldier as he glanced back, hearing his name. “Strong measures for exceptional times.” She forced her regrets about the killing she had instigated to take a less prominent place on her mind’s stage and was rewarded with another simple nod of acknowledgement and gratitude.

  Baynes saw the wisdom in this and acknowledged – somewhat belatedly – the reality that he was not in charge of this expedition. He confirmed the suggestion into an order, grateful that the ammunition the Marines had brought with them would work just as well with the Canadian C7 rifles.

  A short girl came forward, having discerned a pause in the adult conversation, her face looking very small above the multiple layers of clothing and coats with which she was enrobed to compensate for the extreme coolness of the damaged structure.

  “Did you bring my Daddy back?” She looked up at Judy and then turned to Kirrina, mentally arresting her with the expressiveness of her very big, hopeful eyes. Her subtly oriental appearance was almost masked by the intentness of her countenance and the anticipation that burned brightly behind the cool, dark eyes.

  Kirrina crouched down before the five-year old and looked past her at her bigger brother and sister, who now stood protectively behind her. Karen’s eyes greyed as she ‘found’ the story of the Morton children and looked unerringly back and to the right to make a visual contact with Miyoko, walking closer, with the toddler, Kristal, in her arms.

  Leroy hurried out from between the aircraft, where he had been searching among the clustered refugees for Violet Wordsworth and the Mortons, and started to walk over to his best friend’s wife.

  “No, dear… I haven’t,” Karen admitted, freely but sadly. “You will have to wait a little longer to hear about your father.”

  “Hello, Judy!” Miyoko stopped her advance, her subtle expression of supressed hope fading as she heard the response from the beautiful, pale stranger. “We are still hanging-in here.” Her comment revealed her unique perspective – that the present siege was no more difficult for her to handle than the seemingly interminable time since her husband’s disappearance.

  “Oh, Miyoko!” Brisson hugged the mother and child – as a unit – kissing Kristal on the cheek and then bringing the pair closer to the charismatic young leader. “I want you to meet Karen Amer – I mean Fletcher.” Judy performed the introductions with a certain grace, despite stumbling over her recollection of the family name and the fact that her incipient tears threatened to obscure her vision. “Karen, this is Miyoko Morton. Her husband disappeared when he and Kevin Steele were taking EDEM One for its maiden voyage around the Moon. I’ve barely had time to–”

  “If there is any way to find your husband…” Kirrina rose up fluidly from her crouch, deliberately interrupting Brisson’s impromptu speech before she blundered out something which might cause further anguish to the waiting wife. She stared intently into the lovely Miyoko’s black eyes, then looked down at the assembled children. “Your dad… We will! I promise. You must hold on to your hopes a while longer. In the meantime, we will do our best to ensure that, if or when he does return, you are ready and able to greet him.”

  Judy was surprised at the frankness of this little speech, but she could see from the older children’s expressions how perfect these words had been. She looked at Miyoko, impressed by the flinty determination to believe in the faith-filled mother’s eyes.

  “Thank you.”

  Leroy moved from the point where he had waited, frozen, as the conversation played out, and came up beside Miyoko at last. “Things will get better. I know they will.” He assured her intensely as she hugged
him reflexively. Kristal joined in the hug, excited to see her favourite ‘uncle’.

  Mrs. Morton looked at him, puzzled by something she almost felt rather than saw. “There’s something different about you, Leroy. What is it?” She stepped back from the embrace, put the toddler down and reached a hand to his elbow.

  “These people, they are joined with us now. Together we can win. I’m sure of it.” He raised his right boot and put it on a handy crate, pulling his pant leg up to expose the scar that Miyoko knew he had received several years earlier.

  She looked, still unsure of his point, and saw that the scar was no longer there. Her eyes stared into his, and she reached down and ran her fingers over the undamaged flesh that covered the impressive ‘Restored’ muscle, to confirm the amazing truth.

  Kristal tried to put her foot up alongside and fell on her back.

  “They can do a lot of things.” Leroy picked her up and dusted off her coat, rubbing noses with her to soothe her ruffled toddler pride. “This is just one. I’ll come tomorrow – no, I’ll stay with you and make sure you are safe. We’ll get those transport aircraft prepared and fly everyone here down to New Leeds.” Fraser looked around, still hoping to find his girl friend in the motley group of survivors, if not in this building, perhaps in the other one that he had heard the base still controlled.

  Miyoko looked brighter in the gloom, somehow.

  Leroy turned to his boss to get permission to stay, finding that Baynes had been watching the whole thing, and that the as yet un-restored leader was willing to give confirmation without a moment’s hesitation.

  After making this rather uncharacteristic decision, Ed glanced at Kirouac as the impressive figure chatted with one of the Marines a few paces away. He shook his head as he considered the striking changes displayed in this battle-hardened soldier. He felt somewhat unfocused, feeling almost stripped of his command duties and the power with which that previously had imbued him, and found himself wondering how it would be to have vigour flooding through his rather worn frame, like Eric or the subtly younger Leroy now did, each being equipped with a fully healthy body, with no battle scars or ‘temporal damage’.