by John Lane
“Tommy, I’ve got to,” David began. An alarm sounded to indicate that the inner lock was open. Tommy jammed it open and stood inside the inner lock. “I’ve got to make sure all of Brutus is wiped out. Cyber and biological components.”
“David, please. I know there is another way. Don’t take my family from me when I’m just getting it back,” he pleaded.
“Get back inside, Tommy,” David tapped in an additional code. “There, that should do it.” He turned back to Tommy. “Goodbye, Tommy. You’ve grown into a good man. Stay that way.” Brutus tried to exert himself one last time. The biomechanical interfaces glowed. David resisted with jerking movements. And then he sang, “That’s the way the story goes…” he punched the engage button, and the outer lock cycled open.
A great rush of escaping air sucked David out as Tommy lunged forward grabbing his brother’s arm and locking his legs around a safety bar on the wall. “No, David. I can’t let you,” Tommy yelled over the roar of escaping atmosphere.
“You have to, Tommy,” David yelled back. Then Brutus was in his eyes for just a moment. David was back and insisted, “You’ve got to finish it.” He mouthed the word ‘Please.’
“Pop goes the Weasel,” Tommy sang. Without Tommy’s body there to block it, the inner hatch closed behind him, stemming the flow of atmosphere. Tommy pulled on his flex helmet and sealed it from the cold of space, but he never let go of his brother. He pulled David’s body in close as they settled to the floor of the open airlock. Tommy cradled his older brother in his arms. Soon, he closed the outer airlock. But still he did not let go of David’s body and rocked him back and forth until long after Tommy had cried himself out. The Swift settled into the dock and sealed the outside airlock.
Chapter 19: Special Delivery
Admiral Sutton had been waiting in the anteroom for over an hour. She stood when the hatch cycled through and Agent Smith stepped out.
“Well?” Sutton asked.
Tania Smith let the question hang in the air for several moments as she considered her answer. “He is not what I expected,” she stated bluntly.
“No, he isn’t, is he?” Sutton agreed. “And?” She raised an eyebrow in expectation of Tania’s response to the nonspecific query.
“And,” Tania again paused to consider, “We have much to do, you and I, Admiral.”
“Indeed Agent. Those are the instructions,” Admiral Sutton stated, accepting that she had gotten her newest set of orders.
“No.” Tania stepped around Sutton as if to leave and turned. “That was my request, Admiral. We need a team. I am no leader. I’m an analyst. I can be a field agent, but we need a team and a strategist. My request is that it be you.” Tania looked Sutton squarely in the eye and waited to analyze her response. Sutton simply waited for the rest. “He wishes to see you now,” Tania shared. She began to organize the information she would need.
Sutton watched those wheels turn for a moment. “Yes,” was all she said. The Admiral turned to enter the chamber of the Controller. As she walked through the hatch, she paused but did not turn around. “It is a mistake to underestimate your abilities, Tania.” She entered the chamber, and the hatch cycled closed.
In the chamber, she greeted the Controller. “Hello, Arnold. It’s good to see you in person again.”
*****
Oscar flipped over a card. “Hmmm.” This game of Solitaire was not going well. He scooped the cards up into a pile and began to shuffle them when Samantha bounced into the break room of the Dead Letter Office.
“This is the last one,” Sam said as she plopped a duffle bag on the table, “and it’s mine,” she finished.
“So you’re going for a pilot rating, good for you.” Oscar had seen many a young person pass through his care to move on out into the adventure of the galaxy. “You think you really know what you’re getting into?” he asked.
“Nope,” she said pulling out a cheese and mustard sandwich. She cut it in half and offered half to Oscar as a parting gift. He smiled, accepting the gift and lifted it in mock toasts. They munched on their respective halves in companionable silence.
“So,” he paused watching Sam as she finished on her half of the sandwich. She was trying hard to contain her excitement. “Do you know which courier it is and when you ship out?” Oscar asked as he swallowed the last bite.
“Nope,” Sam replied as she unconsciously flipped her hair out of her eyes. Typical response, Oscar thought. She’s too excited about getting out to even care about which ship. “All my orders say is that the ship will meet me here at the Dead Letter dock with my complete orders.”
“I don’t suppose it said anything about loading that last tube of packages in the cargo dock?” Oscar asked hopefully.
“I may not have time if the captain is ready to ship out on a special route or schedule,” Sam replied. She saw Oscar’s disappointment. She continued, “You know I wouldn’t leave you hanging. I already loaded that tube myself.” She stood and walked into the control room of the docking port followed by Oscar. As she looked out the window to the cargo floor below she mused, “What do you think all those long cargo pallets are? We’ve gotten a lot of them through here recently. Going both ways, shipped out and receiving.”
“I really shouldn’t even venture a guess,” the seasoned Postal worker stated. “We’re here to keep the mail moving, and that’s what we do.”
The cargo hatch opened from the corridor. “Well, look who it is. Captain Judson.” Oscar observed. “We’d best get down there.” Two women accompanied Tommy.
“Hey, who are they?” Samantha asked. “They don’t have clearance to be down there.” Sam had had a crush on Tommy for almost eight months. His deliveries weren’t regular, but they had come more often. Sam grabbed her duffle, just in case, and followed Oscar to the cargo floor.
As Sam and Oscar entered the cargo bay, they overheard Tommy finish his goodbyes. “Mother, I’m glad you are feeling so much better,” he said to the older woman. She wore a simple full-length robe. You had to look closely to see she floated slightly above the cargo floor, indicating that she also had a gravity support harness on under the robe. “Christine, please make sure she doesn’t overdue it.” He hugged the other woman who nodded.
As the two women left, Tommy turned to Oscar and Sam, greeting them warmly. Tommy had become more conversational in recent months, Sam had noticed. Tommy reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an official looking packet. “Oscar,” he began. “I’ve got a Special Delivery for a Samantha Conrad. She was supposed to work here. Any idea who this postal employee could be?” he teased.
“Give me that, you clown,” Sam said. She grabbed the package and tore open her orders. As she read her smile got bigger.
“That will be Captain Clown to you, crewmen Conrad.” Tommy smiled back.
Sam couldn’t help it. She jumped into Tommy’s arms and hugged him, nearly crushing a rib or two. “Oscar, I’m on the Swift. I’m stationed on the Swift.” She let go of Tommy to dance around Oscar and hug him about the neck. Again, she held on so tight that Oscar had trouble catching his breath.
“Congratulations, darl’n, I’m proud of you. Now kindly give me back my neck before they have to call up my replacement,” Oscar squeaked out under Sam’s exuberant embrace.
A warning klaxon sounded and incoming docking procedure. Oscar hurried up to the control room to monitor the incoming ship. The procedure was quick and smooth. Exterior docking hatches gave a hiss of escaping atmosphere as the pressure equalized. The hatch opened, and through the chilled fog of atmosphere walked Agnes. Sam wasn’t too happy the first time she met Agnes. It was really hard to wrap her head around the idea she was Tommy’s aunt. A humanoid avatar of the ship’s surgeon, Dr. Ann Ai, followed Agnes out of the ship. A hologram of Alfred appeared just inside the Swift’s cargo bay, virtual clipboard in hand, ready to check in the mail shipment.
“Stow your duffel, crewman. Agnes will show you to your quarters. We’ve got to load these t
ubes and keep to our schedule. We’re headed for the Fringe,” Tommy ordered with a twinkle in his eye.
“Aye, aye, sir.” Sam didn’t salute. She grabbed her duffle and ran into the ship. Agnes laughed, shrugged her shoulders and followed her into the Swift.
“I never thought I’d see you with a crew, Tommy. Thought you’d always be a one man ship,” Oscar said.
“I’ve always had Alfred. He’s piloting the ship now. We had packages to drop at Special Delivery before we docked here,” Tommy shared as he checked the inventory of the tubes.
“Those uppity snobs in SD couldn’t find their…” Oscar’s voice faded as Tommy gave him a sly grin. “Oh, never mind. Let’s get you loaded,” Oscar concluded.
Samantha returned quickly, and under Agnes’ tutelage, had the tubes promptly loaded. Sam was the last to enter the closing hatch. She gave Oscar one last look and a wave. He blew her a kiss from his station in the control room and closed the seals on the inner hatch.
A screen blinked on from the console as he watched the Swift pull away from the station. “How do you think they will do?” a voice asked.
“They’ll be just fine, Controller,” Oscar answered with a warm familiarity, “They’ll be just fine.”
*****
Somewhere in a lonely way station, on the outer edge of the Fringe, in a dark corner of a neglected Postal Service Storage room a hiss of gas and the pop of a breaking seal disturbed the quiet. A casket lid lifted open from the inside. A silver hand grasped the lid. A dim shaft of red light from the casket control panel cast its flashing warning across one startlingly blue eye and the ruined eye of a blond woman. The tattoo of a winged reaper glowed as if burning on her neck.
###
End Notes
Gentle reader. Thank you for sharing the lives of these characters. If you enjoyed their adventures please leave me a review at your favorite retailer.
I want to thank my wife, Kelly, for her support and proofing of the manuscript. A special thanks to Jacob, and Dolores for being my first beta readers.
Thanks,
John Lane
About the Author:
John has long been a believer in characters that touch us by reflecting ourselves in their stories. He has spent his life exploring characters with his students. With a bachelor’s degree in Language Arts and Theatre, and masters in teaching literature, his career has spanned the last thirty years. Each person who he explored character with through theatre, film, and literature has shaped his writing today.
In his free time John is a marathoner who loves running under the clear Kansas sky with his wife and running partner. He crafts games out of scrap wood, creating mounds of sawdust in the process. And among talents and hobbies too numerous to mention here, he loves to read and be transported on far flung adventures.
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