by Ken Lozito
That gave Connor pause. “Has it been that bad? Maybe I can make a few calls for you,” Connor offered.
Captain Ramsey shrugged. “You could try. Maybe you’ll have more luck than I’ve been having.”
“What about a voluntary Field Ops squad? Something part-time that the people here could participate in,” Connor said.
Captain Ramsey’s brows furrowed and a half-smile adorned his tanned face. “That’s a good idea. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it in the first place. A volunteer squad could handle the run-of-the-mill-type requests.”
“You’ve had a lot on your mind and I only just thought of it right now,” Connor said.
“Good. So you’re in then. You can train up this volunteer squad?” Captain Ramsey asked, smiling widely.
“I could help,” Connor said.
Ramsey’s eyes widened. He’d been half-joking and was taken aback by Connor’s offer. “Are you sure? I know you’re retired and all that, but honestly we could really use the help.”
“I said I would, so yeah. Just let me check my schedule and we can talk more about it,” Connor promised.
“Excellent. Perhaps my luck is finally changing. Speaking of luck . . .” Captain Ramsey said and frowned, “. . . or perhaps not, but Bernard Duncan is here from the Colonial Housing and Urban Development Committee. Do you know him?”
“Name doesn’t sound familiar. I’ll make a few calls to Sierra after we’re through meeting with Bernard Duncan. If it’s a matter of equipment you need, perhaps the CDF could help out. At the very least, they might have a few C-cats they can give us on permanent loan. But you mentioned something about recon drones. What’s wrong with the ones you currently have?” Connor asked.
“The recon drones we have are fine if we’re patrolling within a hundred-kilometer radius, but that’s pushing it. Field Operations HQ wants us to make a patrol of the area north of here in excess of five hundred kilometers from Sanctuary. That’s a tall order when I can only field three or four small teams at a time,” Captain Ramsey said.
Connor frowned and thought for a moment. “The ryklars spotted near the other FORBs—how many are we talking about?” he asked.
“That information is forthcoming, which means they’re still counting. Nothing like a warning that says, ‘Hey, watch out for this over here,’ but more like, ‘We're not going to tell you exactly how bad it could be, just that there’s danger right around the corner. Have fun,’” Captain Ramsey said in a half-joking tone. Then he glanced at Connor as if he’d said too much.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s frustrating, I know,” Connor said.
Captain Ramsey’s lips formed a thin line and he shook his head. “No, it’s not. I hate that crap. I hate being this frustrated, and if I heard any of my agents speaking that way, I’d chew them out.”
“Nothing wrong with a little bit of a rant between friends. If I can get you more help, I will. I promise,” Connor said.
Captain Ramsey smiled. “I appreciate it, Connor. I really do. And if you’d like to bring out your old Search and Rescue uniform, I’d be fine with that, too.”
“You’re relentless,” Connor said mildly. “So where’s Bernard Duncan?”
Captain Ramsey gestured toward the door. “Alright, I can take a hint. I will, of course, keep asking. Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll lead you to Mr. Duncan.”
Connor followed Captain Ramsey out of his office. It wasn’t the first time Ramsey had asked him to moonlight at Field Ops and Security; it was more like the one hundred and fiftieth time, and each time Connor declined the request. If he was already out in the field, that was one thing, but he knew if he put on that uniform again it would be a slippery slope right back to where he was before, and he wouldn’t do that to Lenora. What he would do was follow up on his promise and try to get them some more help out there, as well as offer a few suggestions about organizing a voluntary Field Ops squad.
They walked the length of the Field Ops Headquarters and came to the first of two small conference rooms. Inside sat a short man with thin, dark hair and brown eyes. He looked up in surprise and gave a friendly smile as they walked in.
“Mr. Gates,” Bernard said and stood up. “So nice to finally meet you. Bernard Duncan of the Colonial Housing and Urban Development Committee,” Bernard said and extended his hand toward Connor.
Connor shook the proffered hand. “You’ve certainly come a long way to meet me. I would’ve spoken to you via comlink or video call if I’d known you were looking for me.”
Despite his short stature, Bernard Duncan had broad shoulders and a bit of a stocky build. He sat down at the conference table and gestured for Connor to do the same.
“I’ll leave you guys to it. Please let me know if you need anything,” Captain Ramsey said cordially.
“Actually, Captain, I’d love it if you could stick around. What I have to speak about concerns you as well, but I understand if you’re busy and I’d be willing to send you a summary of today’s meeting if that helps,” Bernard offered.
Connor glanced at Ramsey, who looked a bit surprised that Bernard was willing to accommodate and include the Field Ops captain.
Captain Ramsey glanced out of the conference room and into the bullpen where his Field Ops agents were manning the command center. After a few moments’ consideration, he walked over and closed the door, then turned toward them.
“Thanks. I could use a break,” Captain Ramsey said and sat down.
Bernard smiled knowingly. “I’m sure you could, and it’s part of the reason I’m here. We’ve received a lot of requests from colonists who wish to relocate to Sanctuary.”
Bernard glanced at Connor.
“Does this have anything to do with my being here?” Connor asked in surprise.
“Honestly, we’re not sure. When colonists started petitioning us for relocation assistance, they didn’t specifically mention you. However, you are a war hero and there is some notoriety that comes with that. But I think it has to do with these people being temporarily relocated here during the war and liking the area. It’s as simple as that,” Bernard said.
“How many colonists are we talking about?” Captain Ramsey asked.
“We’ve received over five thousand requests. Some are individuals and some are families. There are obviously scientists, of course, who are trying to leverage their research at the Institute here as a way to expedite their requests,” Bernard said.
Connor blew out a long breath. Sanctuary was already bursting at the seams as far as a permanent settlement went. They didn’t have the resources to support so many coming so quickly. He glanced at Ramsey and saw the same concern mirrored in his eyes.
“I see you understand the potential impact,” Bernard said and raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Let me be clear, we’re not going to suddenly dump five thousand colonists on you here without any support.”
“That’s good because we can’t accommodate them . . . not without a lot of support from Sierra,” Captain Ramsey replied.
“He’s right,” Connor said. “Field Ops and other services are extremely short-staffed here.”
Bernard nodded in empathy. “It’s part of the reason I’m here and why I wanted to speak with both of you, really. Officially, Sanctuary is a frontier-class settlement, or a glorified FORB if you will, but with so many people requesting to come here and the fact that you’ve already sustained a high rate of growth, indications are that this place is well on its way to becoming an actual city. However, there has been no official charter for Sanctuary to become a colonial settlement.”
Connor took a moment to consider what Bernard was saying. “What does a charter give us?”
Bernard smiled. It was a friendly smile of the type one used when about to give good news. "This is a good thing. You’re short-staffed now, but an official charter entitles you to the support you need in terms of expanding Field Ops and increased support for services to facilitate the expected growth here. This includes
priority access to fabrication units and an even more robust tech base here so you can create the things you need concerning vehicles and equipment.”
Connor thought it was almost too good to be true and said so. “What’s the catch?”
Bernard chuckled. “Well, I’m here to do an assessment of the current situation. The catch is that in order to fulfill the requirements of the charter you need a working government, even in its most basic form. At the very least, you need a mayor."
Captain Ramsey glanced at Connor and started laughing. "I think you just got another job offer," he said with so much glee that Connor shifted uncomfortably.
Connor looked at Bernard and saw that was precisely what the Housing and Urban Development Committee member was angling for. "You can't mean me? We need to have an election, at the very least."
"Of course, but since this is a new settlement, we can appoint a mayor to get it up and running, then hold formal elections after the first term is served. The appointment would be on a trial basis, obviously, but I suspect even if we had elections, someone here would nominate you, Mr. Gates." Bernard said and leaned forward in his chair.
"I don't want to be mayor," Connor said firmly.
Bernard looked nonplussed at Connor's firm tone. "Your behavior says otherwise. I've asked around about you to many of the colonists who live here and you have a very active role in the community, Mr. Gates. One would say you already have half a foot in the door—meaning you’re already doing the job. People bring their concerns and disputes to you and you provide sound counsel to those who request it. That's all being a mayor is. Your qualifications would clearly put you at the top of the list. I understand that a year ago there was an initial push for you to take over as colonial governor, which you refused."
"That's right,” Connor replied. He hadn't wanted to be governor, and given his exposure to the Vemus, it hadn’t been appropriate. However, being a town mayor was something altogether different. Connor narrowed his gaze suspiciously at Bernard. "Did Ashley put you up to this?"
Bernard's eyes almost shined with innocence. "I've met with Governor Quinn on multiple occasions, if that's what you're asking."
Connor snorted and it came out in a half-chuckle as his lips lifted into a smile. He should've known Ashley would never let him go so easily. This was her way of telling him to put up or shut up. Perhaps he shouldn't have made so many requests on Sanctuary's behalf.
"Alright, let's say I consider this. What exactly do you need from me?" Connor asked and then held up his index finger. "And I'm not saying I’ve agreed to anything. I just want to know what it is you have in mind."
Bernard looked both amused and happy that Connor was at least willing to listen to him. "Thanks for hearing me out. Ashley bet me that you’d just walk out when I broached the subject. I didn't think so. You’ve raised a number of requests on Sanctuary's behalf. Clearly you care about this place and I think you’d be a perfect candidate for this job. And you wouldn't be alone in it. You’d have plenty of help."
"Like who?" Connor asked and then followed up. "Are you offering your services?"
Bernard laughed and there was an infectious quality to it as Captain Ramsey joined in. "Of course, I’d be willing to help. In fact, I'd be honored if you would make use of my services when the time comes. This is what I’ll do. I’ll lay out everything I have in mind. Then, I'll take a few days to do my assessment here and you can think it over, talk it over with your significant other, and what not. How does that sound?"
Connor drew in a deep breath. He liked Bernard. He usually had a good bead on a person, and from this brief encounter, he thought Bernard was actually a good man who was here to do some good by trying to fix a problem that needed to be addressed. That alone was enough to get Connor to listen to what the man had to say. What surprised him was that he was seriously considering stepping up and doing the job. He wasn't sure how Lenora would react. The way Bernard had put it, he was kind of doing the job anyway, even if it was only on a part-time basis.
He wouldn’t make any decisions now. He glanced at Captain Ramsey, who was completely engaged with what Bernard was saying and, he noted, looked a bit relieved to at last be getting some help.
Chapter Ten
For the past few days, Dash had spent almost every waking moment in the laboratory. Dr. Bishop had even found him asleep on the couch in her office one morning. Dash, Merissa, and Selena had been putting together a joint academic research paper to support their theory about a recent Ice Age changing the landscape, having decided not to use the "foreign celestial-body flyby" theory Dash had hastily offered at the beginning. Dash had even managed to bring Jim in as a research assistant. At first, Jim had been reluctant to join them, but Dash couldn't stand seeing his friend languishing away at Field Ops any longer. So Jim was on part-time loan to Dr. Bishop. That was the official version, anyway.
Dash walked down the hall at the Research Institute, heading toward Dr. Bishop's laboratory where they had the NEIIS console set up. Jim was leaning against the wall outside the lab and glanced up at his approach.
Dash frowned. "I thought we got you clearance to go into the lab anytime."
Jim rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. "You did. I was just waiting for you."
Dash narrowed his gaze, his interest piqued. "Is Selena inside?" he asked.
“She and Merissa are inside. I accidentally heard them talking," Jim said.
Dash glanced at the door and then waved Jim over to create some distance so they wouldn’t be overheard. "You heard something juicy, and by the look on your face, it's something they didn't want overheard. Well, now you have to tell me," he said with a smirk.
Jim glanced uncertainly at the door, taking a step toward it. "I don't know if that would be right," he muttered.
"Oh, come on, Jim. How bad could it be?" Dash asked. He heard the muffled tones of Merissa’s laughter and Selena joining in from inside the room. Dash gave Jim an exasperated look and waited.
"It's not that big of a deal. They were just talking about the two tech engineers who arrived last week and who are working in the archives," Jim said.
Dash tried to think of who they were talking about but couldn't come up with anyone. "The NEIIS archives?" he asked.
Jim shrugged. "I guess. Anyway that's all I really heard."
"I wouldn't worry about it. You've got the inside track with Selena now that you're working with us more and away from that dreary desk at Field Ops," Dash said.
"It wasn’t that bad. I wouldn't have had so much desk duty if we hadn't had the run-in with the ryklars," Jim said.
Dash pressed his lips together. "I just thought maybe you'd find what we’re doing here more interesting. If you don't want to be here, you don't have to be. It's fine with me."
Jim shook his head. "No, I like it. It's something different, but I feel so unqualified. The three of you guys have the aptitude scores that qualify you to be here, whereas I don't. I'm just not sure I can contribute what you guys can."
"Don't give me that aptitude-score crap. Sometimes those tests are way off, and anyway, Dr. Bishop wouldn't have approved your appointment based solely on my request. She's giving you a shot. I think if you stay here for a while, you might find a place somewhere in the Research Institute. It doesn't necessarily have to be in archaeology. There's lots to do," Dash said.
"I know and I’m grateful, honestly. But I have no idea what the heck I want to do. I've always been like that," Jim said.
Dash put his hand on Jim's shoulder and gave a companionable squeeze. "I'll tell you something: it's not every day that we get to work with two pretty girls like those in there, so if you don't mind, I'd like to go inside."
Jim grinned and then nodded.
Merissa and Selena looked over as they walked in. "Did you sleep in or something? Why are you so late?" Merissa asked.
Dash gave her a level look with just a bit of mock severity. "I'm sorry, Mom. I won't let it happen again," he said and grinned.
Merissa rolled her beautiful dark eyes. Dash had to admit he was a bit smitten with the raven-haired future planetary scientist. Now, if she'd only give him a break.
"So where are we with our paper? When I left last night . . . err . . . early this morning, I’d added a few parts to the proposal section at the end,” Dash said.
Selena nodded and swiped her hand toward the wallscreen, which had gone into standby mode. Multiple documents from their compiled research appeared. She quickly navigated through the interface and brought up the sections for proposed next steps to prove their theory. "We were just looking at that and . . ." Selena's voice trailed off and she glanced at Merissa.
"I don't think they're going to approve the proposal. You on another field survey mission, that is, and this one is pretty far away," Merissa said.
Dash sucked in his bottom lip, letting it slide under his teeth for a moment while he considered his reply. "You think the distance is too far? We might be able to select a closer area, but then we might just end up with another small outpost."
Merissa frowned in thought. "No, I agree with what you're saying. The higher the risk, the greater the reward. It's just that given the circumstances, I'm not sure whether they'll approve sending us on another . . .” Merissa paused and arched an eyebrow, “. . . registered field survey mission with Field Ops support. The other thing that might be a problem is we’re not sure of the state of any of these sites. I wonder if it would be better to request some satellite time to photograph some of the areas before we request resources for a field trip."
For the first few seconds after Merissa had said she agreed with him, Dash hadn't quite heard what she'd said. But his brain slowly caught up with it and she was actually making a lot of sense. “I guess I was putting the cart before the horse,” Dash said and glanced at Jim. “You think they'll give us satellite time?"
