by Ken Lozito
Connor glanced off to the side and caught Lieutenant Maddox watching him. The lieutenant boldly met his gaze and then went about his duties. “Intense” was one word for it, but these soldiers were really on edge. Connor decided he’d be making a call to Sierra about this squad of soldiers. Sean Quinn would get this sorted out.
“I’ll reach out to Sean when we get back,” Connor said and thought about how the squad had mowed down the ryklars even after they were retreating. He understood securing the area, but if this was how they operated in front of civilians, what were the soldiers doing when there was no one else around? He looked at Captain Fletcher. The man seemed calm now but there had been times during their conversation when Connor could see the razor-sharp edge he tried to hide. How many CDF soldiers were just like this? Connor had no idea, and that thought made him shiver. He knew there was a colonial effort to reintegrate soldiers who had fought in the Vemus war, but sending them on remote missions away from normalcy might not be the best approach for these soldiers. He made a mental note to speak with Nathan as well.
Within thirty minutes, a troop-carrier transport showed up. They loaded the damaged ATVs onto them and Connor and the others climbed aboard. The flight back to Sanctuary was quiet. Something about that squad didn't sit right with him, but he wasn’t sure how best to handle the problem. He resolved to make a few calls when he got back to Sanctuary, right after he decided what they were going to do about Dash.
The young man in question had started heading for the seat next to him.
Connor glared at him and Dash rolled his eyes and turned back around, muttering about talking later.
Connor shook his head, not trusting himself to reply. That boy had put all their lives in danger and he still didn’t realize how close to dying he’d come. All Dash could think about was the discovery they’d made. He needed to have a serious talk with Lenora when he got back. Dash was becoming too dangerous to keep under control. Connor didn't know whether they should try to keep a tighter rein on him or kick him out and send him back to Sierra with the other misplaced youth. Connor chewed on the inside of his lip while he considered what to do next.
Chapter Seven
Connor sat at his kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee he’d freshly ground that morning. The coffee beans had been grown in one of the greenhouses a few hundred kilometers outside Sierra that had miraculously escaped the Vemus bombardment. He glanced at the skull-and-crossbones packaging that bore the name Colonial Death Wish. It was a dark roast blend, bitter and potent. Just the way he liked it.
Lenora entered the kitchen and sniffed the air, then looked at him in exasperation. “You make the coffee so strong I don’t even need to drink it to taste it. You do realize that the instructions are more of a guideline than a recipe you need to follow to the letter,” Lenora said and grabbed a metal coffee mug off the top shelf. Connor took a moment to admire her shapely legs. She wore tan shorts and had on her rugged brown boots. Her green, long-sleeved mesh shirt hugged her athletic figure and her freshly washed auburn hair hung down her back. Did she even realize how beautiful she was or what seeing her like this did to him?
Lenora poured a half-cup of coffee, then added cream and sugar. She brought the cup to her lips but at the last second set it back down on the counter. She glanced at him and Connor lifted his gaze to meet hers.
Lenora eyed him suspiciously. “What are you looking at?”
Connor stood up and took a step toward her. “Nothing. I was just waiting for you to taste some of that Colonial Death Wish coffee.”
Lenora arched one eyebrow and then lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip. She sneered and spat it out in the sink. “Oh my god, this is awful! How can you drink this stuff? It’s not like you need the caffeine.”
She poured out the coffee and quickly filled the mug with water to wash the taste from her mouth.
“It’s not that bad,” Connor protested.
He pulled her in for a hug and moved to kiss her, but Lenora deftly avoided his lips.
“No way, not with that nasty coffee on your breath,” she said and slipped from his arms.
Connor laughed and retrieved his mug. Then, in open rebellion, he took a hearty swallow.
Lenora shook her head and made a tsk-tsk noise with her tongue. “You’re really not playing your cards right this morning,” she said and used the insta-boil setting on their water reclaimer to make some tea.
Connor shrugged. “I was already going down. Might as well go down in flames,” he said and finished his coffee while polishing off what was left of his breakfast. Nothing like a three-egg omelet to start the day off right.
Lenora preferred a quick instant breakfast comprised of some kind of protein paste and dried vegetables akin to field rations. Sanctuary was their permanent home address, but Lenora spent most her time moving from place to place for her research and food had become more of a necessary evil than something to be enjoyed. Connor, however, relished real food. He’d lived off enough field rations and ready-made foodstuffs to last a lifetime. If there was some actual homegrown food to be had, he’d gladly take the time to prepare a proper meal. Lenora had come to appreciate it, but most mornings she was just eager to get the day started.
Lenora sat down at the table and opened the holoscreen for her PDA. After reading some of the messages, she glanced at Connor forlornly. “We need to talk,” she said.
“I thought we already were,” Connor said, feigning ignorance.
He’d been expecting this. It had been two days since the ryklar attack. Meanwhile, the NEIIS console and other artifacts had been sitting untouched in Lenora’s lab.
“How long do you intend to make him wait?” Lenora asked.
Connor pressed his lips together, considering. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a month.”
“A month!”
“Two at the most,” Connor replied quickly, only half-joking.
“You’re incorrigible,” Lenora admonished and leveled her gaze at him. “You’re just being spiteful.”
Connor shrugged and smiled. “You just want to look at what he found.”
“You're right; I do. I admit it. The find is intriguing, and regardless of how it was discovered, we need to study it,” Lenora said.
Connor had been expecting this and knew he could stall Lenora’s curiosity for only so long. His curiosity was piqued, too, now that he'd calmed down a bit.
“Fine, let's study it, but I'm not sure we should allow Dash to be involved anymore. This would just reaffirm his reckless behavior,” Connor said.
Lenora watched him intently for a moment. “Connor,” she said in a patient tone. It was amazing how much Lenora could convey with such a singular utterance—anywhere from thoughtful indulgence mixed with a bit of warning all the way to "here it comes.”
“This isn't the military and the students here aren't soldiers. They're here because they're passionate about learning, research, and discovery,” Lenora said.
“I know that, but their efforts have to be guided so they remain safe to do all those things you value so highly,” Connor said.
Lenora's cheeks reddened in frustration. “I value so highly?” she said severely.
Connor sighed. Now he’d stepped in it. “You know what I meant. What Dash did was—”
“What he thought he had to do given the confines we put on him,” Lenora said.
“So this is our fault? That's what you're saying?” Connor said and shook his head. “We put rules in place with the expectation that they’ll be followed, and when some of these curiosities become too much for them and they do something stupid, it becomes our fault?” Connor said, feeling the heat rise in his face.
Lenora shook her head. “At some point, the limitations on survey missions requiring Field Ops escorts are going to have to be lifted. You can't isolate people and only allow them to go outside with armed escorts. That's no way to live.”
Connor couldn't believe what he was hearing. “If Ian and I hadn't shown
up, they would have died!”
“I thought the CDF squad that showed up helped with that,” Lenora said, with a hint of sarcasm.
Connor frowned at her. “Now who's being spiteful?” he replied evenly.
Lenora held up her hands. “I’m sorry, but Dash's actions are a symptom of a much bigger problem.”
“Yes, the fact that he’s on the fast track to getting himself and anyone around him hurt or killed. We don’t live in a petting zoo, and if the ryklars are becoming more active, we need to be even more cautious than before,” Connor said.
“Waiting for Field Ops escorts is unsustainable. They don't have the manpower to meet the needs. These are the facts,” Lenora said.
Connor rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck. “What's so hard about waiting? So what if people have to wait a few extra weeks before they can go do their field research,” Connor said.
“That's fine for a short while, but those delays become longer and longer as time goes on. Sierra isn't going to send more Field Ops personnel to Sanctuary. Just to be clear, I'm not condoning what Dash did. He made mistakes. All I'm saying is that he did what he did because he felt he couldn't come to us—me—with his frustrations at not being able to pursue an academic lead. And part of that is because of you,” Lenora said.
Connor was silent for a minute while he thought about it. He glanced at the empty coffee mug. What really rubbed him the wrong way was that Lenora had this uncanny way of making a lot of sense. Sometimes it left him twisting in the wind.
“There have to be consequences for what he did,” Connor said.
“What do you propose then? Give me some options to consider,” Lenora said.
“Send him back to Sierra for six months,” Connor replied.
Lenora shook her head. “I’m not going to do that to him,” Lenora said in a matter-of-fact tone that meant she was unlikely to change her mind.
“Why not?” Connor asked.
A thoughtful frown came across Lenora's face while she considered her answer. “You've had a lifetime training soldiers. They follow orders and are sometimes called upon to take the initiative to achieve an objective. What Dash did was take the initiative to achieve an objective. Did he make mistakes? Yes, but I don't want to be among those who squash initiative. He needs guidance but not expulsion, which is what you're proposing,” Lenora said.
They'd had similar conversations in the past. Connor's military training was as natural to him as breathing. His first instincts were to correct the problem quickly and efficiently, but civilians didn't work like that and scientists were in a field all their own when it came to the reasons for their actions. If he was honest, he’d found over the last year that sometimes those reasons were just as valid a concern as his own. Was he making this too personal?
“Sending Dash away now is the worst thing we can do for him,” Lenora continued. “He needs guidance, and he isn’t going to find that in Sierra.”
“What's wrong with Sierra?” Connor asked.
“Nothing, if you want to be part of the rebuilding effort. People come to Sanctuary to get away from that. They want a new beginning, but they need time away from the reminders of everything they've lost. Dash is part of that.” Lenora leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table, bridging her fingers in front of her mouth. “You may not want to hear this, but Dash needs someone like you in his life.”
“I don't think he'd agree with you,” Connor replied.
Lenora smiled. “Maybe not this second because he’s angry, but he's not stupid and he knows what he did. He also knows you don't approve of his methods and that frustrates him as well. I think sometimes you're a little too hard on him.”
“It's for his own good—” Connor began.
“Believe me, I know where you're coming from, but sometimes you don't have to be so severe,” Lenora said.
Connor sighed and decided to try a different approach. “Okay, so we don't send him back to Sierra, but there have to be consequences for his actions. He’s not to lead any more expeditions. I’ll have him locked out of all vehicle systems. He can study everything he wants right here, but that's all for the foreseeable future.”
Lenora pressed her lips together, hard, but Connor knew she couldn't overrule him in this. As the lead archaeologist for the Sanctuary site, she had authority over those who worked at the site, but Connor was also within his rights to make the recommendation to Field Ops that they restrict Dash's movements. And they would listen to him.
“Alright, we'll ground him,” Lenora said at last.
Connor stepped toward her and placed his hand on her shoulder, rubbing it gently. “I’ll try not to be so severe about it in the future,” he said.
Lenora placed her hand on top of his and gripped it gently. “Your heart is in the right place, love. But sometimes you need to give people a break.”
They left their housing unit, which was located at one of the permanent residency neighborhoods established at Sanctuary. New housing structures were being built to fulfill the burgeoning needs of the colonists choosing to relocate there. What had started off as a Forward Operating Research Base of a few dozen research scientists had grown to be home to over a thousand colonists. They had a surplus of building materials as a result of Sanctuary being designated a safe zone during the Vemus war, and Sanctuary was well on its way to becoming a full-fledged frontier city. Instead of camps of easily constructed mobile labs and command centers, they were outfitted with more permanent structures using refined building techniques and materials from New Earth. There were even architectural projects devoted to reproducing NEIIS architecture. Those projects had started off as purely academic pursuits, but one thing Connor could safely assume about Sanctuary’s residents and all colonists of New Earth in general was their propensity to experiment and try new things rather than just recreate the Earth of old.
The growth of Sanctuary did put pressure on the colonial government to provide Field Ops resources in an already constrained and recovering government services sector. Almost everything Sanctuary needed regarding vehicles and supplies had to be imported, but there were groups devoted to changing that as well. Connor knew it would be a long time before Sanctuary became a bustling metropolis, and that was the direction they were heading, but for right now it was purely a frontier-type settlement with an active research community, of which Connor was now a part.
One of the things Lenora had pushed for after the Vemus war was the construction of state-of-the-art laboratories to support all the scientific research being conducted in their small corner of New Earth. Lenora had gotten other lead scientists from different research fields involved when they’d put forth their proposal. Connor had reviewed the proposal and was able to leverage his own experience with wrangling support from sometimes reluctant government officials. But negotiating these waters of acquiring resources for field research was where Lenora shined. For Lenora it wasn’t a matter of give-and-take, which was where most egotistical research scientists and government planners bumped heads. For her, it was a matter of finding a win-win where everyone benefited. In this case, Sanctuary’s first Colonial Research Institute, or CRI as it was becoming more commonly referred to by some of the students, was akin to the universities of Earth.
One of the things the late governor, Tobias Quinn, had worked to establish in the colony was the fostering and sharing of knowledge, especially when it came to the next generation. The colonial education system required that students were exposed to different fields of study through practical application while providing a service to the colony.
Commerce didn’t exist here as it had on Earth, or at least it was measured differently. There was no magic green paper or universal credits that people coveted. Colony worth was measured in the time and efficiency with which a given task could be achieved. With the advent of fabricators, which had its roots in the three-dimensional printers that had begun to show up in the latter twentieth century on Earth, there really wasn’t a need fo
r factories to create multitudes of products that people might not need or want and reduced the psychological impact of convincing a populace that they needed these excess things to have a fulfilling life. Colonial life was an active thing and the world was infinitely more fascinating. Connor found it refreshing and a much-needed reset for the human race as a whole.
They walked through the settlement, heading for the Colonial Research Institute, which was only a short distance from Field Operations Command. Connor had to stop at the command center later that day for a meeting.
After the ryklar attack, he’d spoken to Sean Quinn about Captain Fletcher’s CDF squad, and his conversation had been enlightening. Colonial Department psychologists were working with CDF soldiers on the various issues they were facing, but some cases were more difficult than others. Sean had promised Connor that he would look into it and recall Captain Fletcher’s squad for immediate evaluation. Connor had advocated that he didn’t want the soldiers punished in any way; he just wanted them to get the help they needed. Sean understood. The young colonel had his own ghosts to wrestle with on occasion.
They reached the entrance to the Colonial Research Institute and the automatic doors opened for them. Connor gestured for Lenora to lead the way.
“How very traditional of you, Connor. I do appreciate it,” Lenora said with a grin.
“Who says chivalry has to be dead?” Connor replied.
The archaeological labs were off to the right and Lenora had almost an entire wing dedicated to her research. It was there that they’d stored the recovered NEIIS equipment from the remote site. Connor used his implants to authenticate the storage room and noticed that the lights were already on inside. Someone was working. He arched one eyebrow at Lenora.
“I had Malone begin the analysis to date the NEIIS equipment,” Lenora said.
Connor should have known that regardless of what they decided, Lenora was determined to get a crack at this new piece of NEIIS technology.
