“Correct again. I’ll watch the door, you continue.”
Connor positively beamed. “Yes sir… ah, Sergeant. Yes, Sergeant.”
He jogged to the next door. Connor was floating on air; the room didn’t seem quite as cold as it had been, nor the darkness as oppressive. The next door’s control panel seemed to sympathize with his mood as it opened up without resistance. It was just a quick flip of the override lever to secure the door in its shut position. The catwalk door was, also, just as compliant.
Then, Connor hit a snag. There were twelve hatches leading to maintenance conduits. The six hatches on the floor that ran along the left and right walls were easily secured. But then he looked up. Six hatches were also on the ceiling, running along the left and right walls.
“And I thought it sucked climbing down,” Connor muttered to himself under his breath.
Undaunted, he started carefully up the frosted metal ladder. His teeth were gritted in a determined, almost maniacal grin. He wasn’t about to let heights break his mood. Halfway up, however, phobia prevailed over willpower. Connor made the mistake of looking down.
The room started to spin and his head swam. He hung onto the ladder for dear life, as his stomach churned and bile almost choked him. Desperately, he pulled the rungs to his body in a terrified bear hug.
Connor didn’t know how long he hung there, shivering on the ladder. Concerned calls came from below, but he shook his head to silence them. He wouldn’t fail. He wouldn’t give up. His eyes sought the hatch above him, his only care at the moment.
Slowly, Connor’s right hand somehow managed to release its death-hold on the ladder’s rung. It rose carefully, grabbing the next rung, renewing its death-hold on the icy metal. His left hand came away next to find the rung above that. Slowly, Connor climbed up, hand over hand, rung by rung. When the hatch finally came into reach, the tremors had subsided. Fear still squeezed his chest like a vice, but Connor was in control. Barely.
There was no panel covering the override for the maintenance hatches; securing the override lever took only a few seconds. Then came the descent. Progress was slow, because fear was intense. And because descent on an icy ladder is far more dangerous than ascent.
A wave of relief washed over Connor when his feet hit the deck, although it faded substantially when he remembered he had to do that five more times. But again, he steeled his nerves. Each ladder proved easier than the last, until his feet finally landed on the cold metal floor for the last time.
Wild Bill was still at the door, looking slightly bored while he scribbled in a notebook as Connor jogged up.
“Ok, Sergeant,” he said. “Job’s done. What now?”
“Now you make yourself comfortable.” Wild Bill nodded at the drive where Heyerdahl was working. Frasier was next to him, looking over his shoulder. “We do a lot of sitting around and waiting on the brainiacs.”
Connor tried to look comfortable while he leaned against a metal railing. He wasn’t tough enough to ignore the discomfort of metal digging into his flesh, so he tried conversation to distract himself.
“I wanted to thank you for recommending me for this. I know the volunteers on this mission had to be recommended by someone in CPF or Fleet to go.”
“Two someones, actually,” Wild Bill said. He reached into one of the pockets on his vest and pulled out a couple of protein bars. The Texan opened one and tossed the other to Connor.
“Thanks!” Connor snatched the snack and ripped it open with his teeth. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
“Lesson one: always bring extra protein and carbs. These food bars don’t taste all that good, but they’re extremely high in both.”
“Got it.” It only took Connor a few seconds to inhale the food bar. “You have no idea how relieved I was that I got put on your team.”
A smirk crossed Wild Bill’s face. “Charisma not enough for you?”
“No, no,” Connor said with a chuckle. “I just didn’t want to get stuck on Lavi’s team.”
“And why is that?” The Texan’s smile remained, and his eyes now had a curious glint.
“I just don’t think she likes me.”
Wild Bill didn’t respond, but the look on his face told Connor that he wanted more.
“She’s always riding me. I mean she sticks me with the biggest guys in ASSAULTs practice, and when she doesn’t do that, my opponent is always a woman. No matter what I do, it’s never good enough. The way she talks to me and treats me outside of class… like calling me professor. She’s got something against me, but I don’t know what it is.” The words spilled out of Connor almost faster than he could comprehend them.
“Two points, Connor. One: she gives you female opponents because she knows you go easier on them and she’s trying to break you of that. And two… she likes you.”
Wild Bill’s words were like a splash of cold water in the face. “No, she doesn’t. She’s a bitch to me.”
“You infuriate her, for sure. But she definitely sees you as a friend.” Wild Bill shook his head at the look of disbelief on Connor’s face. “Ever think maybe she pushes you because she wants you to succeed?”
Connor opened his mouth to reply, but no words came to mind.
“Rana is probably the best hand to hand fighter I’ve ever known,” Wild Bill continued. “On top of that, she’s been Special Forces trained by three different organizations. CPF, Fleet, and Black Watch. She’s devoted her life to the CPF. She pushes you because she knows better than anyone what it takes to survive in combat. The better prepared you are, the better your chances.”
“Ok,” Connor said. “But what about all the disrespect?”
“All Rana knows is being a soldier,” said Wild Bill quietly. “It’s what she was born to. She’s not really good at interacting with other people in any other way. And she sure as shit don’t have much in the way of social skills. Messing with you is her somewhat misguided way of showing her friendship. Chasing you out of your quarters for a shower and calling you professor would be examples. You should feel honored. All Rana calls me is Will.”
“I… that never occurred to me.” Connor was starting to feel like a complete ass.
“Obviously, which is why I’m telling you. And here’s another thing to think about. I know you’re under a lot of stress right now and have a lot on your mind, so I’m going to let it go.” Wild Bill leaned in, his voice hard, yet almost a whisper. “But if I ever hear you speak about a superior like that again when we’re acting in an official capacity, you’re going to be out of the program.”
“I’m sorry,” Connor said quietly. Then he tilted his head in thought. “How did you know about the shower?”
“Danielle considered it a point of humor that needed to be shared with the crew.”
Connor groaned in embarrassment. “It would be Tejeda.”
“She also shared it with the civilian population.”
Connor groaned even louder.
“Sounds like I’m needed,” said Frasier from behind. The surgeon walked to the pair with Heyerdahl in tow. She wore her usual sweet bedside doctor’s smile, tinged with fatigue.
“Not right now,” Connor said with a smile. “But I probably will when we get back. I think I’m going to start one-on-one training with Corporal Lavi.”
Wild Bill looked at Heyerdahl’s haggard face. Drawn and distant, the strain had pushed him to his limit. “You finished?” he asked the poor man.
The tech nodded dimly, his eyes down.
“Alright, come on,” Wild Bill said, waving the volunteers to follow him. “Connor, open that door.” He pointed to the second door on the ground level of the drive room.
By the time the other three arrived at the door, Connor had flipped the override lever to release and the door was wide open.
“Good job, everyone,” Wild Bill said. “I know you’re all tired, but we still have a short walk ahead of us.”
“How far?” asked Frasier.
“12 floors.�
��
“12 floors?” Heyerdahl gasped. “But I thought the fighter bay was right above us.”
“It’s right above the drive room. And unless you feel the urge to climb back up the ladder, then we are taking the stairs.”
“That won’t work,” Connor said. “The stairs are blocked, remember?”
Wild Bill gave the group an apologetic smile. “Those stairs are blocked. There’s another set further down the hall that’s clear.”
“You mean we went through all that for nothing?” Heyerdahl was trembling as he asked and he looked like he was about to cry.
“It’s a training mission, remember?” Frasier told the tech gently. “We needed obstacles to test our skills.” She patted his arm in sympathy.
Heyerdahl’s shoulders slumped. They fell into silence as the group started their way back to the fighter bay. While Heyerdahl’s body was flagging from the psychological stress, Connor’s physical strength had been pushed to the limit. After having climbed six different two hundred-foot ladders, Connor’s arms and legs were on the verge of collapse. All four of his limbs were shaking from weakness.
Somehow, he managed to make the first two stairways on his own. But when his legs gave out on him, Frasier wrapped one of his arms around her shoulders. With her support, Connor managed to stagger onward.
“Thanks,” he muttered, his voice thick with exhaustion.
“Anytime,” she said, her usual bedside smile strained by the extra weight. “I think we can do without tearing off the patient’s pants this time.”
Strain and fatigue shut down any remaining conversation. With the exception of the group’s labored breathing, the quiet of a graveyard fell over the group as they struggled up the remaining flights of stairs.
They were almost to the flight deck when Lt. Tejeda’s excited voice exploded out of Wild Bill’s radio. “Team 4 to Prometheus.”
“Go ahead Team 4,” came Colonel Bradley’s voice in return.
“The ship’s log was incomplete. It didn’t mention the missiles we found in the fighter bay magazine.”
“Incorrect, Team 4. Missiles were listed in the inventory.”
“Not these missiles.” Tejeda’s voice was shaking with excitement. “We just found 2 racks of Titanspear Missiles!”
Chapter 12:
Connor was so exhausted when the team finally returned from his training mission, he didn’t bother with a shower. He stumbled into his quarters and was asleep before his body even hit his cot. Six hours later, he awoke with a groan. The ache in his muscles was an agonizing reminder of the first time he trained with Lavi. Not that long ago, but on reflection, it seemed like a lifetime.
“Nice to see you’re finally awake,” drawled a Texan voice from across his quarters. “Was wondering if I’d have to report you absent from training.” His bearded smirk emphasized the humor in what otherwise would have been a very serious statement. Missing even one training session without authorization was grounds for immediate dismissal from the training program.
Connor looked over to see Wild Bill tying up his boots. “I’ll be there,” he groaned as he pulled himself into a sitting position.
“Don’t worry about it,” Wild Bill said as he walked to the door. He turned back in the hall, his smirk growing into his usual grin. “The test run turned out to be tougher than we thought, so every volunteer who went is relieved from mandatory training for today.”
“But I can still go if I want?”
Wild Bill leaned against the metal doorway, looking at Connor in amusement. “If you really want, yeah. But you look like you can barely stand. As you are now, you would be a danger on the range, so live weapon training is out. But if you still want to come by, I’ll work with you on techniques and methods.”
“Sounds good.” Connor groaned again as he pulled himself to his feet. Every muscle ached so badly that he couldn’t even stand completely erect. He shuddered as he waited for the pain to subside in his trembling body.
“Before I forget, that Krieger guy wanted to talk with you.”
Connor turned his head to Wild Bill and nodded. “Ok, thanks. I also have to stop by the gym first and ask Lavi for some private lessons.”
The Texan chuckled at his friend as he walked out the door. “Just don’t push too hard,” he called over his shoulder as the heavy metal door hissed closed. “I don’t want you to burn yourself out and quit.”
Wild Bill started to leave, but Connor called out to him. “Hey, I got a question before you go.”
“You know I’m on shift in ten minutes, right?”
“Real quick, what’s a Titanspear Missile?”
“Well, that is real quick. It’s classified.”
“Oh,” Connor said in disappointment. “Any chance I’ll ever get clearance?”
“As a civilian?” Wild Bill laughed. “I’m sure someone will tell you when they make you king of the universe. Until then, you may as well take up antiquing.” The Texan was still chuckling as he threw him an irreverent wave before disappearing down the hallway.
Connor shook his head, the only movement that didn’t hurt, then took a hot shower to ease his aching muscles. When he turned off the water forty minutes later, the roaring pain in his muscles had degraded into a mild shout. He pulled open the curtain and reached for his towel.
“Will told me you wanted to see me.”
The voice made him jump but seeing Lavi unexpectedly sitting on his bunk made him screech. After taking a moment to recollect himself, Connor ripped the towel from the wall and began drying off.
“Why are you in my quarters?” he asked tersely.
“I just told you,” Lavi told him in a bored voice. “You know, if you moved that fast in practice, you might do better.”
With his pride hurting far more than any of his muscles, Connor shot her his darkest, hardest look. She still looked bored. That infernal woman wasn’t about to acquiesce.
“I was going to ask you for extra lessons,” he said trying to look relaxed.
She scooted back so she could lean against the wall. “You really haven’t been putting in the effort. Why should I expect anything to change now?”
“I don’t want to fail,” Connor started, then his voice softened and his eyes dropped. “I can’t fail. I used to have a purpose, when I was teaching. But when the war started, I was separated from my university.” He shrugged helplessly. “It probably wouldn’t have mattered if I hadn’t been. Suddenly people were becoming soldiers instead of students and I wouldn’t have been doing anything anyway. Or at least nothing truly important. Then, I meet all of you and you’re doing something important. You gave me the chance to finally make a difference. As a security volunteer. I have a chance to really help people! I’m not sure what I’d do without that.”
Lavi regarded him for a moment, her face blank and unreadable. Then her eyes softened just a little. “If I help you, then you have to put in the effort. No more slacking.”
“I have been putting in the time…”
“No!” Lavi’s sharp command was so emphatic that Connor took a surprised half step back. “I don’t want to hear excuses. You only show up for required classes and once there you barely put in an effort. If I do this, you have to fight harder than ever before. I’ll push you harder than you’ve ever been pushed. If I think, even for a second, that you aren’t giving me everything you have, I will flunk you out of the program right there. Do you understand?”
He looked at the floor for a moment before locking her eyes with his own determined gaze. Connor stood straight and set forward his chin with as much confidence as he could muster.
The slightest hint of a smile played across Lavi’s face. “Well, I’m glad to see you have some fire after all. Training starts at midnight in the gym. Wear your security gear.” Then she was gone, disappearing out the door like a specter.
Connor dressed and made his way to the deck above. Krieger’s door was as unremarkable as the rest, but for some reason it felt more for
eboding than any he’d seen. He wasn’t sure how long he stood at the door, waiting for some sense of strength to press the com button. But it wasn’t long before he felt an uncomfortably familiar intrusion into his mind.
You can come in, Mr. Harper. I’ve been waiting for you.
Krieger’s voice floated through Connor’s mind like a whisper on the wind. Deflated, he pressed the access panel.
The room’s usual hard blueish overhead lighting was off, the only illumination coming from two small lamps. One on the table near the beaten brass bowl, the other on his desk, they cast a dull glow through the room. Krieger waited behind his rickety metal desk. His Black Watch uniform was perfectly pressed and clean just as it had been when Connor had first seen him. The man smiled at Connor as he entered.
“Please, take a seat,” Krieger said as he waved a hand at his old charcoal-colored couch. “With the acquisition of the Pegasus, things will soon become very busy. I was hoping to work more with you on your psychic abilities before we begin moving there.”
“Moving?” Connor echoed. His brows furrowed in surprise. “To the Pegasus? What makes you think that?”
Krieger smiled at the younger man. “Captain Yuji is a military man who’s had a golden opportunity placed in his lap. Would you be happy with a part time position in a ramshackle school, or would you prefer a leading position teaching your preferred field in one of your Ivy League universities?”
“Oh.” It was the only response that came to mind. The Prometheus had become the closest thing to a home he’d had since the Ka’Rathi destroyed New London. The thought of leaving made him sick.
“I apologize if I’ve upset you, Mr. Harper. I had no wish to do so,” Krieger said smoothly. Connor couldn’t tell if the man was being genuine or dishonest. “I know it may seem a little selfish, but time is ebbing quickly away. The sooner we start working on your telepathy the better it will be in the long run.”
He certainly couldn’t argue with Krieger on that point, but he was tired of being in the dark. The Black Watch was, among other things, an intelligence organization. They’re supposed to have detailed files on everything. It was time for some answers.
Echoes of Avarice Page 11
