by Jim Laughter
"He's not here, sir,” Beeman finally said. "Want me to take a message for him? I could leave it here on the board."
"I'm not sure,” Robert said with consternation. "Delmar said he would be back home this afternoon. When did you see him?"
"Sometime around noon. We had to consult with him on a work order. Just a minute.”
Again all Robert could hear were muffled voices. Finally, Beeman came back on the line.
"One of the guys says he thought he saw Captain Eagleman heading over to the station hospital. You might try there."
"Thank you,” Robert said with relief. "Could you transfer me?"
"Sure,” Beeman said. "Glad we could help."
Robert heard the phone click as his connection transferred once again.
"Jasper Station Hospital,” a female voice answered.
"Yes, I am looking for Captain Delmar Eagleman,” Robert said. "I am his father."
Robert heard the receptionist enter something on a keyboard.
"I don't find him listed,” she finally said. "Do you know when he was admitted and who his doctor is?"
"No. He was discharged a couple of days ago,” Robert said, thinking fast. "I think he said his doctor was Ralt or something like that."
Again, he heard her key her computer.
"Ah,” she said. "I found him. Yes, he was discharged a couple of days ago. His doctor was Dr. Alt. I'll transfer you."
"But..." Robert began, but not before the phone clicked with his call being transferred again. He tried to contain his impatience as he heard yet another phone ring.
"Doctor Alt,” a male voice said.
"I am trying to track down Captain Delmar Eagleman,” Robert said in a rush. "I am his father."
"Yes, I saw him earlier today,” Dr. Alt said. "He had a beef with the dock workers. We spoke for a minute and then he left."
"Did he say where he was going?" Robert asked anxiously. "He told me he'd be home this afternoon, but I haven't seen him."
"He didn't say,” Dr. Alt replied. "Is there something wrong?"
"Not that I know of,” Robert answered. "This just isn't like him."
"I'll let you know if I see him,” Dr. Alt said. Robert heard him flip through some papers. "I've got your number here."
"Ok,” Robert said. A cold fear was beginning to gnaw at him. "Thank you for your time."
"No problem,” Dr. Alt replied. "You were fortunate. I usually don't work this late. If there's anything I can do, just let me know. I've got my eye on that boy. He's been knocked around too much recently."
Robert thanked the doctor again and hung up the phone. The silence of the house was oppressive. After a moment of indecision, he again picked up the phone and called the Sabetis. Daren answered.
"Daren,” Robert said. "Have you seen Delmar today?"
"No we haven't,” Daren replied. "We’ve been in town all day. Is something wrong?"
"I don't know. He was called over to Jasper Station this morning and that's the last I saw him. I called them and the last time anyone saw him was around noon. I just got home and found no evidence that he’d returned."
"That is strange,” Daren agreed. "Did you contact the field to see if he checked out a flitter?"
"No, I didn't think of that,” Robert admitted. "Guess I'm not thinking straight."
"I'll call them for you. You call the liaison office and see if he dropped in over there."
"Thanks,” Robert said with relief. "Daren, you know I wouldn’t be this concerned if it weren’t for Delmar’s injuries, don’t you? Let me know what you find out."
"Sure thing.”
Robert reset the phone and then looked up the number of the liaison office. “I need to keep these numbers on a short list,” he muttered to himself while he dialed the number.
Half an hour later, Daren drove into the backyard and parked next to Robert's ground car. After knocking, he let himself in and found Robert sitting forlorn by the phone, his eyes downcast. The air was filled with the burnt smell of coffee.
"No luck, huh?" Daren said, picking up a hot pad to take the overheated coffee pot off the stove and turned off the burner.
"Nothing,” Robert said listlessly. "No one knows where he is. Any luck with the field?"
"Not a thing,” Daren admitted. "He didn't check out a flitter or get a lift anywhere.”
"Where could he be?"
Robert felt the cold knot of fear tighten in his stomach.
"I don't know,” Daren answered unbidden. "But Delmar always seems to be able to handle himself. I'm sure he's all right."
"I don't share your confidence,” Robert said. "He's been through a lot lately. His doctor is worried also."
Just then the phone rang, startling both men. Robert picked it up. "Hello?"
"This is Jasper Station,” the voice on the other end said. "May I speak with Robert Hassel?"
"Speaking,” Robert replied anxiously.
"This is Security Officer Rome,” the voice said. "Have you seen your son, Captain Delmar Eagleman?"
"No sir,” Robert answered. "The last I saw him was this morning when a flitter picked him up to take him to Jasper Station."
"Well, I just wanted to be sure,” Rome said. "We've checked the Station and haven’t found him anywhere. I was hoping he’d shown up over your way."
"No chance he just walked off the base?" Robert asked hopefully.
"Already got that covered,” Rome answered. "He's got to be here somewhere unless he sprouted wings and flew away."
“Officer Rome?” Robert stated. “You know Delmar has had several incidents lately where he has blacked out, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mr. Hassel, I know that. Which is why we’re taking this incident serious. Believe me, we don’t do this with everyone that doesn’t come home for supper on time.”
“I'll let you know if I get any leads here,” Robert said. The knot of fear took another turn.
"Thanks,” Rome said. "I'll be in touch."
Robert hung up the phone without saying a word. Daren could tell by Robert's expression that the news had not been good. He took the phone from Robert.
"Why don't you come sit over here while I call the locals to start them looking?"
Back at Jasper Station, Security Officer Rome was pondering the situation as well. Nothing was adding up. Captains just didn't disappear. He'd already checked with the clubs on base and with the housing section. No one had seen the captain in question. Now he had his people checking every nook and cranny of the station, but that was going to take time. Jasper was a big place. He hoped he didn’t have a sick kid on his hands.
Chapter Eleven
Try as he might, Delmar couldn't get the ancient food synthesizer to produce much beyond basic soups and bread. At least I won't starve, he thought. As he pulled the latest attempt at an edible meal from the dispensing slot, the light above him in the simple galley flickered and went to half brightness. Delmar took his simple meal forward to the control room of the DayStar and checked the power meters.
"Just as I thought,” he said aloud when he noted the fluctuating amp meter. He set his food on a convenient flat panel and readjusted the power controls, turning off unneeded systems. There was only so much power left in the old green box, so he'd better conserve.
Picking his plate back up from its perch, Delmar stepped over and sat down in the worn control seat of the DayStar and stared out the front viewscreen of the old tired patroller.
The inky blackness of space stared back at him, along with the ironite asteroid belt where he was hiding. With the ship drive powered down, the density of the asteroid pack should keep his ship hidden from any Axia detector sweeps. He hoped it worked with any stray Red-tails as well. The last thing he needed right now was to tangle with them an enemy scout.
When he reflected on his current situation, it was surprisingly easy how he had been able to slip out of the storage area of Jasper Station. There had been room in front of the DayStar between the othe
r retired ships. While waiting for nightfall, Delmar had inspected several other derelicts, finding most in worse shape than the old DayStar.
Rummaging around in each for what he could use on his little escapade had yielded few items of use. A few tools left behind and a roll of star charts. What he was happiest to find was an old but still serviceable space suit. The suit locker in the DayStar was empty and he wasn’t comfortable flying without one for safety. And although the DayStar was holding air, there was no telling when that would change. All his time fighting the problems plaguing his Cabbage Patch had taught him to take nothing for granted.
Once night fell, Delmar powered up the DayStar, lifting it only a foot or two off the ground. He felt something tug then give on the ship and realized that it was probably weeds that had grown around the landing skids. Then carefully guiding it between the other derelicts, he made it to the fence enclosing the storage compound.
Moving very slowly so not to activate the motion detectors that were common around Service repair stations, Delmar gradually lifted the DayStar just high enough to top the fence between him and the outside. As soon as he cleared the fence, he lowered the ship back close to the ground and proceeded away from Jasper Station. Since like most installations, Jasper Station was out in the countryside, he had no problem slipping off into the night.
After he had gotten a few hills between himself and the station, Delmar was able to pick up some speed and follow the course of one empty valley after another. He eventually came to a dead-end where he faced a decision. Realizing the risk, he used the old sensors of the DayStar to scan space above his location. He noted the flight of the usual intersystem ships and plotted out their regular lanes of travel.
Picking an area of little activity was even easier. Now the hard part. He knew there were regular detector sweeps of the space above Erdinata, and it would take excellent timing to avoid them. From memory, Delmar recalled the current sweep patterns on this side of the planet and realized that although they covered space above the surface pretty thoroughly, the sensors were set to detect incoming ships and signals. An outgoing craft would be harder to detect.
Waiting for what would be the standard shift change, and to take advantage of the confusion and distraction that would happen at the control centers, Delmar set course for the emptiest section of the flight lanes and advanced the throttle.
Even though the DayStar was old, she still had her legs and zipped upward at a respectable rate. Delmar missed the higher acceleration of his Cabbage Patch but was thankful the DayStar still had some speed left in her. He cleared the atmosphere and vectored the ship for deep space.
Knowing the Erdinata system helped him avoid any congested areas along his flight path. Then all he had to worry about was unscheduled incoming ships. Fortunately, the emptiness of space helped make this less likely. Delmar hoped any ships that did sight him on their detectors would assume his was just another patroller headed off on a mission somewhere.
He was also concerned the DayStar didn’t have a navigational or emergency rescue beacon since it was standard procedure to remove both once a ship is retired. I’ll just have to make due, he thought.
Knowing that any alarm and search would automatically check the Erdinata and nearby systems, Delmar headed off away from them. Out here where the planets were fewer made it easier to stay hidden and undetected. Chancing upon a stray field of space debris had been just what he needed. It only took a little time to find a particularly dense cloud of asteroids to hide the ship.
Delmar considered actually hiding the ship on one of the asteroids but considered the risks to outweigh the advantages. Although he wanted to remain undetected, there was a point of lunacy in all this. Hiding on an asteroid, especially one high in iron, would not only hide the ship but would also severely limit his comm range. If the ship broke down, he wanted to be able to call for help, whatever the consequences. Out here in space, his comm would be more effective for emergencies and make his subsequent rescue easier. He may be bending or breaking a few regulations, but he also wanted to survive.
His meal finished, Delmar took the plate and utensils back to the galley for storage. He didn't wash them because the water tanks on the DayStar were only half-full and he didn't know how long he would have to depend on that supply. Better to stack up dirty dishes than to die of thirst.
Setting the detector system on passive mode, he turned off all but a couple of safety lights and walked back to the sleeping cabin. If he were to accomplish this wild adventure, he would need all the rest he could get.
∞∞∞
Night was falling as an old Jeep pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex. Pausing a moment after shutting down the engine, Pete Gilley reflected on the strange turn his relationship with Yohan Nashar had recently taken.
Pete had known Yohan now for nearly eight years. They’d met one day at the airport during an open house hosted by one of the flight schools. At the time, Yohan was just a student pilot (though older than average) and Pete was still riding second seat pushing airliners through the sky. Pete had been there with his Starduster Two on proud display. Yohan was just an eager aviation enthusiast.
For some reason the two hit it right off. Upon further reflection, Pete decided this was just the way it was in flying circles. You met someone and if you liked them you had a flying friend for life. If not, you had just met one of the thousands of other yokels who bored holes in the sky behind the controls of some machine. Yohan proved to be one of the former.
Their friendship had blossomed from that early beginning. Many weekends found the two up in some aircraft together, and they shared the joys of flight. Pete helped Yohan work on his various certificates and exposed him to as many different flying machines as he could. It was obvious that Yohan had a knack for aerodynamics and rapidly advanced in the required skills. Pete had no problem letting Yohan take the controls of his Starduster while he flew alongside in another plane. Not many pilots earned such a privilege.
The day came when Pete and Yohan found a pair of nearly identical Pitts Specials for sale. By this time, both men were doing pretty well financially. Pete had moved over to left seat for the airlines, and Yohan was now a tenured professor. The sale was completed and the two flew their new biplanes home. Out of personal preference, Pete had taken the red Pitts and Yohan the blue one. It seemed as if the pair of planes were made to order for these two.
From there it became a natural development for the two men to go up and practice aerobatics together. Their dogfight sequences evolved, much to the delight of not only Pete and Yohan, but also to any spectators on the ground. Invitations soon appeared asking them to perform at air shows and fairs. Both men were happy to oblige because it gave them a needed change from their paying jobs.
Now things were different. Pete was astonished at first by Yohan's revelation, but soon accepted it. Alien or not, Yohan was a proven friend. Pete just hoped Yohan didn't drop any more surprises on him, like growing tentacles or something. After locking up, Pete headed up to Yohan's apartment and knocked twice.
"It's open,” said a muffled voice from inside. Pete accepted the invitation and let himself in.
"How’s my favorite Martian doing tonight?" Pete asked as he shut the door behind him.
Yohan was still dressed from work and had obviously just plopped down in the chair after he got home. He failed to catch Pete’s reference to an old television show that was still circulating in reruns.
“Mars?” he said. “Are you kidding? Mars is just next door. I’m really from out of town, if you know what I mean.”
“Don’t remind me,” Pete said. “But really, how are you doing?”
"About as well as can be expected.” It was clear he was happy to see his friend.
"I see you’re cooking your favorite dinner tonight,” Pete said as he sat down on the couch opposite his friend.
"And what's that?"
"Take out!"
He picked up the phone and h
anded it to Yohan, who glared back at him but accepted the instrument.
"Rough day?" Pete asked.
"Same as usual. The students are getting ready for midterms, so everyone suddenly needs my help. I wish they'd come early in the semester instead of waiting until the last possible minute."
"That seems to be a constant in the universe.”
"And how was your day?" Yohan asked. He suspected Pete was beating around the bush about something.
"I might as well fly a desk,” Pete said with some disgust. Yohan was taken aback.
"What's wrong?"
"The FAA came up with another bright idea.” Pete said. "They are now directing commercial airliners keep a lookout for UFO's and report any sightings."
"That's just what you need!"
"You got that right," Pete said. "We're stuck. If you report one, they ground you and send you to the shrinks. If you don't report one, they bust you for failing to report. You can't win!"
"So what are you going to do?" Yohan asked.
"I suspect there will be a lot of reports of bugs on the windshield!" Pete said triumphantly.
Yohan didn't say anything for a moment but considered Pete’s words.
“What's this got to do with me?"
"I was afraid you'd figure it out,” Pete said sheepishly. "Tell me what am I supposed to do with you?"
"The same thing you always do,” Yohan said without hesitation. "Fly."
Pete was taken aback by the answer. After a moment, he started laughing. Yohan tried to maintain a straight face but soon started chuckling as well.
"Seriously now,” Pete said, regaining some composure. "With all that you've told me, where do we go from here?"
"I've thought about that more often than you can know,” Yohan answered carefully. "When you boil it all down, I guess the answer is nothing."
"Nothing!" Pete exclaimed. "What do you mean nothing?"
"I mean there really isn't anything either of us can do,” Yohan answered. "You can’t turn me in because it would damage your career. I can't leave because I can't come up with a way to contact the Axia. They figure me for dead or they would have been here long ago. They never leave anyone behind if they can help it. So there you have it in a nutshell. We're both stuck."