As soon as the three were seated, coffee in hand, the Commandant came directly to the point.
“We normally give Trekkers a bit of time off before sending them out again or putting them to work on base, but we need to get those downed birds off that planet immediately. To do that means going to the crash locations and crossing over.” He looked at Bill. “You up to the task?”
Bill didn’t respond, looking at Meri. She gave a brief, almost imperceptible nod.
“Okay, but why me?”
“Simple. You’ve been there. You know where things are, at least at your crash site. Plus, you’re more experienced than most.”
Bill couldn’t argue with that. “So, does that mean going through the Bowman Field gate and flying all the way over?” he asked.
Lewis gave an actual belly laugh. “Good God! No! What do you think we are, crazy?”
“Well, the thought did cross my mind,” Bill answered.
Lewis shook his head, still chuckling. “No. What we do is go to the nearest location on Hayek and open a portable gate. Saves time and money.”
“Portable gate?” Bill asked, confused. “I thought those things ate energy like nobody’s business. You know, the whole ‘hurry up, we’re burning neutrons’ thing. How do you get enough energy to open a portable gate?”
Lewis laughed again. “Well, let’s just say there’s a bit of propaganda going on there. Gates don’t take much energy. As a matter of fact, they require less than ten amps of 110 volts. Pretty much like a regular electrical outlet in a standard home. We can open a portable gate using a small gas-powered generator. We do it all the time.”
Bill felt even more confused. “Then, why tell people to hurry up and act like it’s costing a boatload of energy?”
“Simple. We don’t want others knowing our secrets. Can you imagine what would happen if China, Russia, or the U.S. got its hand on the gate’s secrets?”
Bill nodded. “I see.”
Before heading back to Planet 42, Bill demanded and received a new scope for his old rifle. After mounting it, he spent a day on the rifle range making sure everything operated the way he wanted it to.
Jordan and Matt had also been tasked to help retrieve the downed planes, so Bill made sure the two of them spent as much time on the range as he did. While Jordan had plenty of experience operating in the wilderness amongst the various hungry creatures, Matt spent more time flying over the wilderness. He still had good situational awareness, but the situations one faced at an airfield were substantially less threatening than a biologist would face on a ground survey. The trio spent their time in the live action range, which consisted of moving targets, usually facsimiles of large felines, like Smilodons and lions, coming at them.
Just two days after being told of their task, the three Explorers were prepped and ready. Bill had spent most of a morning replacing his worn-out survival gear. The only things he decided to take with him from his original equipment were his rifle, the PDW, his sheath knife, and his canteens and cups. Everything else was brand new, even the ammunition. When asked about the replacement cost, he was told by the logistics staff that since he was replacing equipment that had been either lost, damaged, or worn out due to a trek, he wasn’t financially responsible for it.
“We make people pay for doing stupid stuff, like losing it while drunk, or tossing it away ‘cause they think it’s too heavy to carry. If anything, you guys tried to bring back everything you could, so good on you.”
After reporting to the Commandant’s office the morning of departure, the three Explorers were given an itinerary and written orders, which had also been e-mailed to all those who were to provide them assistance with their task.
“Bill, I know you’re fairly young, but I’m putting you in charge of this as survey leader,” Lewis said.
“What you say goes. Listen to others, but the final decision is up to you.”
The trio would make their way to the east coast of Ti’icham in one of the supersonic trains that operated in evacuated tubes, known as E-tubes. From there, they would catch a flight to Eurasia, landing at the port city of Jongen, at the mouth of the Rhine River, then a magnetic levitation train to Guerin, a small city, at the confluence of the Isère and the Rhône Rivers.
“Your old stomping grounds,” Lewis said. “From there, you’ll take a 415 to the lake with everything you need to recover the Monarch.” The CL-415, was a seaplane used by the Corps for secondary surveys, and one that Bill was intimately familiar with, having served on one on his first survey. “In case you’re wondering why we’re not picking you up in Jongen, it’s because it costs less to use mass transit, and is probably faster.
“Your job, once the operators open the gate, is to get that bird out fast, with as little impact as possible. We need that EMP bomb and the crash seat parachutes for evidence, so try to recover them, if you can. If you do find the bomb, be sure to put gloves on before handling it. There might not be any fingerprints left after being exposed to the elements for so long, but you never know.
“As to the extraction, you’ll probably have to clear some land on this side of the gate to get both birds through. That area isn’t heavily settled, and we don’t operate gates in water. The operators tell me it’s something about water and electricity not being a good combo. Who knew?” Lewis joked.
“Anyhow, once you’ve recovered the Monarch, you’ll continue on with the 415, gate, and crew, and get the second bird. We’ve already dispatched an engineering unit to build a small field for you, so that should be a much easier retrieval. After you’ve recovered what’s left of the plane, I want you to take some time and scout the area for any evidence of survivors. I don’t want to shut a gate if there are. If not, we’ll see about recovering the bodies.
“Once you’ve finished there, I want you to come back to Milton. I’ll send another team out to recover the catamaran you used to cross the ocean. Along with our need to sanitize the planet, I think that’ll make a great addition to the museum.
“Any questions?”
“Yeah,” Bill said. “What do we do with 42/2 once we recover it?”
“Leave it there. We’ll send out a crew to see what can be done to make it airworthy again.” Lewis glanced around the group. “Everyone packed and ready?”
The three young men nodded.
“Good. Your E-tube leaves at noon. Make sure you’re on it.”
Lewis stood up, extended his hand to each of them. “Stay safe out there,” he said, the standard Corps way of saying farewell to another Explorer.
As the three left the Commandant’s office, they walked past his personal assistant/receptionist, an older woman, disabled from an injury she sustained on a survey years ago. She hadn’t been there when they arrived.
“Hi Glenda,” Bill said, stopping briefly.
“Bill, so good to see you,” she said, coming around the desk, limping, and gave him a quick hug. “I’m so glad you and Meri made it back safely. The Commandant had been sick with worry ever since you went down.”
Bill had suspected as such, as evidenced by all the new gray hair Lewis sported, but hadn’t mentioned it. “Thanks, but it looks like I’m going right back out again.”
Glenda shook her head. “I heard. I don’t think it’s right, but I’m not the Commandant.”
“Nor are we,” Bill joked. “Anyhow, I hope you don’t mind, but we leave pretty soon and I’d like to spend as much time with Meri and Jack before I have to go.”
“Oh, my. Yes, don’t let me hold you up. You guys stay safe out there.”
Meri and Jack accompanied Bill down to the skytrain station at the entrance to Sacajawea Base. Nicole was with Matt, looking suitably sad. Jordan stood off by himself, waiting for the other two. Man, that sucks, Bill thought.
Giving his wife and son a hug and kiss, he said, “Well, time to go.”
“Stay safe out there,” Meri said, looking like she was about to cry.
“Hey, don’t worry about me. This’
ll be a walk in the park after everything we’ve been through,” he said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood.
“Yeah, right,” she responded. “Just remember, Tarzan, there are real people out there, and you don’t know how they’ll react. For all you know, they found the Monarch and consider it a deity, and you trying to take their god might not be a good idea.”
“Hey, they might think I’m the god,” he joked.
“Don’t even,” Meri said. “Just make sure you come back to us in one piece.”
“I will,” he said. He gave her another kiss, then kissed Jack on his forehead. “See you soon, little guy. Love you.” Looking Meri in the eyes, he said, “I love you. Take care of him.”
“I will. You take care of you,” then she glanced over to Jordan and Matt, “and look out for those two. God knows, Matt’s not as good in the wild as he thinks he is, and Nicole’s definitely worried.”
“Will do,” Bill said.
A train pulled into the station.
“Love you,” Meri said.
With a brief smile toward her, Bill turned and called the other two Explorers to him. “Let’s go, guys. Long ride ahead, and this train won’t wait for us.”
The three boarded, being careful not to bump other passengers with their backpacks and rifles.
As the door closed, Bill could see Meri and Nicole standing next to each other, watching them. He waved; Meri waved back, their son held in her arms.
The train pulled out. Bill kept an eye on Meri until she faded from sight. He turned to the other Explorers. “Well, this is it, guys.”
The ride to the E-tube station only took about fifteen minutes, whereupon they had to find the right track. Bill had ridden on the magnetic levitation trains, but not on the E-tube. They were completely different. The maglev trains were mainly regional transportation systems, designed for rapid movement with minimal environmental impact on Hayek. The E-tubes were designed for trans-continental travel. There were only a few lines running, mainly from coast to coast on Ti’icham. Unlike the maglevs, there were no windows to look out at the passing scenery, as the trains operated in enclosed evacuated tubes. Of course, the high speeds the trains traveled at made up for any lack of scenic viewing.
Hell, even flying in a jet 10,000 meters in the air, there’s not much of a view, so what does it matter if we don’t see the landscape flashing past at 1,200 kilometers per hour? Bill thought as he boarded. Let’s see. A jet normally travels around 950 klicks an hour, and we’ve got about 4,800 klicks to go, that’s…about five hours. At 1,200 klicks, that’s about four hours. Yeah, think I’ll take the faster time. And no fucking Air Nazis, security lines, or other bullshit to put up with.
The three found their platform. Soon, the train pulled into the station and disgorged hundreds of passengers. Watching them all reminded Bill of old movies he watched as a teen, that took place during World War II when most of the country traveled by train. Here on Hayek, that was still the case. Planes were really only used for intercontinental travel, and even then, usually for high-priority stuff, such as sanitizing a possible Class II planet. Most intercontinental travel was still by ship.
The three boarded, found their assigned compartment, then divested themselves of their packs and other equipment.
“Ain’t gonna wear it if I don’t have to,” Bill said, dropping his vest and survival belt on one of the empty seats. The others followed suit. Three hats contributed to the pile.
Soon, an announcement came over the cabin’s speaker, advising the occupants to buckle up and prepare for rapid acceleration. Minutes later, the train began moving. Bill didn’t particularly notice the build-up of speed. In just a few minutes, the train’s conductor came back on the speaker announcing they had reached their cruising speed of 1,200 kilometers per hour. The train was scheduled for four stops between Milton and Neponsit, in the Massachusetts Canton.
When they arrived in Neponsit, almost five hours later (due to stops along the way), an Explorer was waiting for them.
“Bill Clark?” the Explorer asked as they exited the train.
“Yeah,” Bill said.
“Hi, I’m Patrick Spanner. Corps said to get you on a flight to Jongen asap, so I’ll be taking you out to the airfield.”
“Great,” Matt said in his Memphis drawl. “Finally make it to damnyankee country, and they kick me out before I even get a chance to see it.”
Jordan punched Matt in the shoulder. “Sure you ain’t some un-reconstructed rebel?” he joked. The two had been friends and roommates for well over a year.
Rubbing his shoulder, Matt replied, “Only when it comes to sweet tea, barbeque, and grits.”
“I’ve got a Kenji waiting outside. Airfield’s about ten minutes away. You guys need to use the restroom before we go?”
“It can wait,” Bill said, after looking at the other two, both of whom shook their heads.
A couple of minutes later the four were climbing in the back of the Kenji, a pickup truck that was converted to carry passengers. Benches ran along the sides of the bed, under a small roof, tall enough for somebody to squat under.
The ride to the airfield in the early evening darkness was short, but somewhat cold due to the open sides of the Kenji.
They went inside the small terminal and checked in at the ticket counter. Once the ticketing agent confirmed their flight information, she issued them boarding passes, with a warning, “Don’t forget to make sure all firearms are unloaded before boarding.” Bill had totally forgotten about that, being used to having a loaded rifle with him at all times.
Spanner walked with the three men out the terminal and onto the tarmac. “The Commandant wants me to report when you’ve taken off. The airline’s actually been holding the flight until you got here.”
Before climbing the boarding steps into the small passenger jet, the three pointed their rifles at the ground and ejected the magazines, putting them in ammo pouches on their belts. They then each extracted the remaining round from their rifle. Letting the rifles hang from their slings, they retrieved the magazine, put the extra cartridge in it, and replaced the magazine into the pouch. After slinging his rifle, Bill repeated his actions with his PDW, first by removing the magazine from the pistol grip, which he placed in a cargo pocket, and then pulling the charging handle back and catching the ejected cartridge as it left the small carbine. Holding the carbine against his ribs with his arm, he retrieved the magazine from his pocket, fed the round into it, then put the magazine back into his pocket.
They then climbed the stairs and entered the plane. A flight attendant offered to show the Explorers where the in-flight rifle rack was. Bill was surprised at this; other than the airplanes flown by the Corps, he had not been on any civilian aircraft since migrating to Hayek almost two years ago. He knew people could fly with firearms, considered a total no-no on Earth, but he didn’t even think about how to store them in-flight.
Once the rifles were racked and survival equipment and hats stashed in the overhead bins, and the three men settled into their seats, the flight attendant came by and gave each of them a small zippered bag. “Airline amenity kit, courtesy of Freedom Air,” she told them. Bill opened his and found a pre-pasted toothbrush, eye shades, earplugs, and a pack of tissues.
The pilot gave the usual “Welcome aboard” speech he had heard a number of times before. As Bill had expected, an eight-hour flight was in store for them, with an arrival in Jongen at around eleven o’clock in the morning local time. Bill’s chronograph was still set for Alpha Time, how all Hayek and Corps time was kept, much like Zulu Time on Earth. The prime meridian for Alpha Time was in the center of Milton. Let’s see, six o’clock now, and we’re three hours ahead of Milton, add in another six hours, so that’ll put us nine hours ahead, so that means we’ll be landing around two A.M., our time. Oh, joy. Just what I wanted to do, hit the ground running when I should be pushing some serious REM cycles.
Jordan had the window seat and Matt was crammed in the center
. Bill turned to them and said, “Looks like we’ll be landing around two in the morning our time, so you guys might want to catch up on your beauty sleep.”
“I’m thinking they might serve something to help with that,” Matt said, as the plane began taxiing toward the runway.
Bill was still wide awake, sipping on a whiskey, when the rising sun began streaming through the open windows. He glanced down at his chrono, still set on Alpha time. It was barely past ten PM. Great, he thought. Now I’ll never get any sleep.
When he looked again, it was because Matt was shaking his shoulder.
“Hey, I gotta use the latrine, so wake up and move over.”
Bill shook his head groggily and moved his legs so Matt could squeeze past him.
Jordan was sound asleep, head resting against the bulkhead, and a small line of drool running from the corner of his mouth down his chin.
Bill looked at his chrono. One o’clock. AM or PM?
It took his fuzzy brain a second to figure out that it was one in the morning Alpha Time.
Might as well use the restroom, too, he thought, taking the amenity kit from the seat pocket and getting up.
There was a small line to use the lavatory, but it moved fairly fast. Soon, Bill was done with his toilet, and with fresher teeth and a cleaner mouth, headed back to his seat.
Just as he sat down, Jordan woke, so both Matt and Bill had to move legs to let him get by. By the time he returned, the flight attendants were serving breakfast.
Bill asked for two coffees with his breakfast, joking with the flight attendant, “No sense making two trips.”
A half hour later the plane landed in Jongen.
Bill easily spotted the Explorer on the tarmac as they exited the plane. She was the only one wearing the distinctive brown utilitarian Corps field uniform, same as them. Seeing them, she waved.
On the tarmac, they separated from the rest of the passengers, most of whom had luggage to collect in the terminal. The three Explorers had all their luggage with them, strapped on their bodies in one manner or another.
“Which one of you’s Bill Clark?” the Explorer asked.
The Corps of Discovery Trilogy Box Set: Books 1-3: A multiverse series of alternate history Page 54
