Carrie nodded and Smith waved her toward the door ahead. She entered the booth and sat down. It was very bare inside with plain, silver-metal walls, floor and ceiling. A camera sat in front of her with a screen just below it and lights overhead. It seemed a little snug. She wondered how some of the men got on in such a tight space.
The screen lit up, and she saw a code appear across the screen. She figured that must’ve been what Smith was entering. It gave her a sudden thought. She called out to him. “Smith, can you hear me from out there?”
He didn’t reply. The screen flashed again and a message blinked: One moment while we connect you.
She waited a few moments, then the screen flashed again and she saw her father. He was standing in the living room of his villa in Florida, the TV was on in the background.
“Carrie,” he answered, an expectant look upon his face.
“Dad,” she smiled hello.
“So how’s it going?”
“Good,” she smiled confidently. “And you? How’re things back there?”
“Fine,” he answered abruptly, furrowing his brow in concentration. “You must be about to hit your target if they’re letting you phone home, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you know where you’re going yet?”
She heard a jingling noise, as he lifted a scotch on the rocks to his mouth and took a sip.
“Dad, you know I can’t talk about it.”
“You can tell your old man, Ree. I’m quite familiar with the UNF, you know. Planet, star or station?” he asked, taking another sip.
She sighed and gave him a passive look. “Dad.”
“Well, what’s your team like then?” He changed tack.
She shrugged. “They’re okay.”
“Okay?” He studied her a moment. “You’re a bad liar, Ree. You need to work on that.”
“Some are nice and some are …” she hesitated.
“Assholes.” He managed to finish her sentence before she thought of an appropriate word.
She smiled.
“Yeah, I’ve worked with a few of them in my time. Listen, Ree, don’t you take any shit,” he pointed firmly at her, “unless of course it’s your captain … or any superior officer for that matter. Unfortunately, sometimes you’ve just got to put up with it. Unless it’s completely un-job related, then you have to stand your ground! You shot any of them yet?” A slight smile curled the corner of his mouth, as he took another sip of his scotch.
She smiled at him again, eyeing the scotch in his hands. He was more relaxed than normal. “Not yet, but I’ve thought about it,” she answered, then changed the subject. “So what are you up to tonight? You sound like you’ve had a few drinks. Have you got company there?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ve got an old friend here at the moment.” He looked back at Carrie, and the serious look took hold of his face again. “So, do we know how serious the job is yet?”
“Not yet. It’s probably nothing, knowing my luck.”
Her father paused a moment. “‘Nothing’ is not so bad, Ree. ‘Nothing’ will get you home again. Remember that.” The look on his face had a tinge of concern to it. She felt a sudden pang of guilt hit her in the chest.
She nodded.
“So, how’s this Captain Harris?” he continued his line of questioning.
“He seems alright. Hard, but fair.”
“Well, that’s what you want in a leader,” he nodded, “hard but fair. There isn’t any room in the UNF for a spineless man, that’s for sure. The team giving you any stick about having a retired colonel for a dad?”
Carrie hesitated for a moment, “No, not yet.”
He eyed her down the camera. “You didn’t tell them, did you?”
“Need to know basis, Dad,” she replied.
He grunted. “Probably Ree, probably. Although, it can earn you respect too. Don’t forget about that.”
“I’d like to earn my own first.”
He looked down the camera at her, then nodded. A 60 second warning flashed across the screen.
“Time’s run out already,” she noted. “Well, hopefully, I’ll have something more interesting to report next time.”
“Maybe, maybe. I’m happy with dull, though, like I told you. ‘Nothing’ is good, Ree.”
She nodded. “I’ll see what I can do, colonel.”
Her father stared at her a moment. “Okay, corporal,” he said, then raised his glass. “Good journey.”
“Thanks, colonel. Have another scotch for me,” she smiled.
His eyes glanced to the clock counting down, and his face seemed to drop suddenly. “Ree?” he said quickly, darting his eyes back to hers.
“Yeah?”
“Just …” Her father’s mind seemed to tick over for a nervous moment. “Just remember everything I ever taught you …” His eyes stared hard at hers. “And don’t trust anyone. I mean it. You trust no-one and nothing except you and your gun. You hear me? Remember everything I taught you! Everything!”
Carrie’s mouth seemed frozen, unsure of what to say. They stared at each other, but only for a brief moment before the screen finally went dead.
She sat there for a moment, a little shocked, as his words rolled around in her mind. She’d never seen him so intense. Was he trying to throw her off? Scare her? She exhaled with frustration, and rubbed her hands over her face. I will do this, whether he likes it or not. I can handle this. He won’t scare me off.
Exiting the booth, she saw Smith sitting there at his console, looking at her strangely. She stopped suddenly in her tracks.
“You couldn’t hear what was said in there, could you?”
Smith shook his head. “No … I just didn’t know your dad was a colonel. An Original.”
She looked back at the booth, stumped as to how he’d found out if he couldn’t hear her conversation. He must’ve seen the confused look on her face, because he angled the screen in front of him around toward her. “His full name and credentials came up when I punched in the transmission code.”
Carrie looked at the screen, and there it was, in big bold letters.
900–569–742-A; COLONEL JEFFREY WELLES, UNF-SD Orig.
“Oh,” Carrie said slowly, trying to think of what to say. She eyed him nervously.
“That’s pretty cool,” he shrugged.
She gave him a friendly smile. “Thanks.”
He smiled back then looked down and started flicking through the screens on his e-clip again. “That’s it! The captain’s the only one left,” he said to himself. He got up from his console and went to leave, but Carrie caught his arm.
“Smith?”
He turned around and looked at her with his youthful eyes.
“I, er, I’d appreciate it,” Carrie stuttered, “if you didn’t mention this to any of the guys … or girls … if you don’t mind?”
“Mention what? That your father’s an Original? Or a colonel?”
“Retired colonel, and yeah, both. I’ve worked hard to get to where I am and I don’t want anyone thinking this had anything to do with him.”
He eyed her for a second, then nodded. “Fine. I don’t know why you’re hiding it though. I think it’s cool.”
“Carter doesn’t need more ammunition to fire at me,” she said. “Or McKinley.”
Smith laughed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s okay. Your secret’s safe with me.”
Carrie smiled, relieved. There was something about his eyes that made her believe him.
“Thanks, Smi—, what’s your first name again? Pete?”
“Pete,” he nodded.
“Thanks, Pete. It means a lot.” She smiled warmly.
He smiled back at her a little awkwardly, then looked back down at his e-clip and scratched his head, “I, er, have to go,” he said, then quickly turned and left.
*
Lunch was a fairly subdued affair. Packham joined t
hem for a bit, updating Carrie on the very standard and uneventful flight path they’d been taking. The ship was just approaching Mars, on its final leg toward the Darwin. They’d seen an asteroid shower, and passed a few other ships but that was about it. She also mentioned that Harris had been called to the flight deck earlier when Bolkov was on duty, as he’d picked up another signal from the Darwin. When pressed as to what the signal was, she simply shrugged and said, “They’re still trying to figure it out.”
Carrie felt a spike of tension travel up her spine. She was so close now. So close to being able to seize this opportunity and prove to her father, and the team, what she could do. She eagerly headed to the flight deck wanting to lay her eyes on Mars. Again, her breath caught at the sight. The massive orb floated silently in front of them, almost ominously. She studied it fixedly, noting that the colour wasn’t quite as vibrant as she’d pictured it to be. It was a mingling of orange and brown hues, interrupted by the occasional marbling of black. Although it was nowhere near as beautiful as Earth, it was still a magnificent sight to behold. Mars! After years of dreaming of seeing it this close, it was now a reality. She stared at it for what seemed an age, completely fascinated, hoping that one day she would get the chance to explore it at ground level.
It only made the excitement and tension rise even higher within her. It seemed to echo the pressure she sensed building among the crew, especially since they’d spoken with their families back home. It meant they were a step closer to boarding, a step closer to facing whatever might be waiting for them on the Darwin. She wondered where Harris was and what he was doing. Was he planning their attack and contingencies if something went wrong? Most of all, she wondered where he was going to play her in all of this.
*
Harris stood on the flight deck and stared at Smith.
“It says what?”
“Take a listen, sir.” He hit play on the transmission recording he’d managed to clean up a little in the comms room.
Harris listened as the static came over the deck’s PA. There was some warbling, then the static faded to the background and a voice came over loudly, albeit very briefly.
[static] “… its way. The test is ready …”
“Good. We’re set to g—” [static]
“And that’s it?” Harris asked, a mixture of disappointment and frustration washing over him.
Smith nodded. “It’s only a short recording, sir. That’s all I could unscramble in the clean-up.”
Harris looked over at Hunter, “And Bolkov was right: this definitely came from the Darwin?”
“Yes, sir,” Hunter nodded, pointing to the radar screen. “He locked it right onto the station, sir.”
“And neither Command nor any other UNF ship have any record of this?” Harris continued.
Hunter shook his head. “Bulk said they got nothing. It’s just us.”
“Well, how is that possible?” Harris looked back at Smith. “Surely if they were transmitting, then they were transmitting to someone?”
Smith shrugged. “I don’t know, sir, maybe that was them trying to fix the comms. Maybe something happened in the scrambling process while they were trying to transmit, and we accidentally picked it up because we have a lock on their coordinates. The scanning program I devised is pretty top-notch, sir. If I do say so myself.”
“Play it again,” he ordered Smith, as Doc walked onto the flight deck. Harris had sent for him.
“What’s up, captain?” Doc asked curiously, as he made his way down the steps.
“Listen to this,” Harris said, motioning to the console.
The four of them stood in silence and listened again to the garbled voices.
[static] “… its way. The test is ready.”
“Good. We’re set to g—” [static]
Harris looked at Doc. “It came from the Darwin. Sounds to me like there’s someone still alive and well up there.”
Doc nodded, eyes narrowed in thought. “Someone who’s testing something.”
“Must just be a technical issue up there, huh?” Hunter shrugged.
Harris and Doc exchanged a look, then Harris turned back to Hunter. “Send a copy of that through to my private portal, and keep your ears open. I want to know if you pick up anything else. Anything at all, understand?”
“Yes, sir,” he nodded.
With that, Harris locked eyes with Doc again, then turned and left the flight deck.
*
Harris sat alone in the mess hall scoffing down his lunch. He’d sent the team off to do their final checks in readiness for boarding the Darwin, instructing them that they would meet back in the mess hall at 1700 for an early meal, then they would get some sleep before their mission kicked off in the evening.
He cleared his plate quickly. He’d been hungry as he’d lost time sitting in his office searching for any information on Sharley, stopping only when Smith had called him to the flight deck. His search had been somewhat fruitless, although he had managed to locate a bunch of obscure science papers that had been published on some of Sharley’s behavioral studies, prior to his time at Hell Town.
The papers were scientific in nature and very technical, but Harris got the basic gist of them. Sharley had studied in detail the great hunters of the animal kingdom. Animals such as wolves, lions and other big cats, and seafaring creatures such as the great white shark and the killer whale. Sharley then compared these findings with a study he had done on serial killers. In particular, he studied their methods of stalking and killing their prey. He had discovered traits in some of the animals where a quick kill wasn’t always made, and instead a slow torturous one took its place.
Sharley compared the survival instincts between the two groups, and their methods of perfecting the kill. He had come to the conclusion that, all in all, the desire to hunt and kill was the same regardless of species. Some were just better at it than others, and if it were not for the complex social boundaries that humans imposed upon themselves, we would be just like the lion on the savanna, or the tiger in the jungle, or the shark in the ocean.
It was interesting enough to read, but Sharley seemed a little obsessed with the dark, deep-seated issues of the human mind; fixated on death and torture and control. It was a little unnerving. It made Harris wonder what sort of programs Sharley was running on the Darwin, and exactly how much control he had over them?
Harris took his plate back to the counter, where Louis had been clearing the dishes away. He thought briefly about making a transmission home, which, in itself, was strange. Smith, of course, knew better than to ask him, as he didn’t believe in the “last” call. Besides, there was no-one really to make that call to. His mother was in a nursing home and probably wouldn’t remember who he was, depending on what kind of day she was having with her Alzheimer’s. His sister, Holly, would be busy with her job and her kids, and he didn’t speak with his brother, Terence.
He always made the most important call to Tyson and Taya before he left Earth, and years in the UNF had taught them not to expect one while he was out in space. He just didn’t like it. It wasn’t natural. If things were to go bad, he preferred them to remember his last visit with them in the flesh, not some five minute goodbye from miles out in space. Although, that said, he never got to see either of them this time around …
To distract himself from his thoughts, he decided to undertake his last in-person checks and pay a visit to the engine room. He made his way down into the bowel of the ship and found the crew over by the onboard weaponry, next to the ship’s tiny secondary escape pod, the Borealis, aptly named to suit the ship. The Borealis was only a two-man pod, generally just a back up if the flight deck could not disengage as their real escape pod.
“How’s it coming along, Sergeant Brown?” he asked, as he approached the team.
Brown looked up at him. “All’s well, captain. The guns are in tiptop shape, the engine’s running like a dream, and the Borealis is ready to go.�
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Harris nodded, looking over the equipment. “Good. And you’ve tested the arming of the ship’s guns with the flight deck’s controls?” He glanced at Carter for an answer.
“Yes, sir,” Carter answered. “We did initial checks yesterday and will be doing a full exercise this afternoon.”
Harris turned to Colt who was standing beside the men. “Are you familiar with these weapons, Corporal Colt?”
“Not these particular ones, sir, but I have worked with similar.”
“And are these soldiers giving you the opportunity to become familiar with these weapons, corporal?”
Colt glanced over at Brown and Carter, then back at Harris. “Yes, sir.”
“Hands-on opportunity?” he asked directly.
Colt hesitated before giving an answer and that told him everything.
“Carter,” Harris ordered. “Step aside and let Colt take over.”
Carter glanced at Harris, then slowly stepped aside. Harris looked both men in the eye.
“What happens if this thing misfires and you two get blown to pieces? Who’s going to try and fix the damn thing? Who’s going to make sure it doesn’t blow up the whole goddamned ship? What about the rest of these electrical panels?” He waved his arm around the cargo hold. “Corporal Colt must be up to scratch on all this equipment. I will be back later this afternoon and I’d better be convinced that she knows what she’s doing. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” they answered.
“Good. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Harris turned and headed up to the main deck. He wasn’t surprised that they hadn’t let Colt near the equipment. He knew that Brown didn’t have an aversion to her, as he’d seen them talking at mealtimes. It was simply the fact that Brown was very particular with his work and never let anyone get too close to it. Even Carter, technically Brown’s senior officer and team leader, was always his assistant in the engine room. Brown knew the equipment like the back of his hand and he didn’t like anyone messing with it; which was good in that Harris had the utmost faith that Brown knew what he was doing and kept the ship running tiptop, but it was also a concern that if anything ever happened to Brown, they’d potentially be in a spot of trouble. Carter worked closely with Brown, but sometimes watching things being done and actually doing them, were two very different things.
Darwin Page 17
