by Frank Carey
"This is simplistic?" Nystrom asked while waving his hand around to encompass the entire twenty-click-long ship.
"Compared to the last ones that went out, this is just a toy."
"You don't have to answer this, but do you resent the Alue for mostly destroying your species?"
"Do you resent the Sokuhl for almost destroying yours? As the humans say, shit happens. My family is safe, and the Logash people have lived on in a myriad of gene pools. We never died; we just transformed. What about the basili?"
"Our warrior nature was what nearly killed us. We were given a chance to grow out of it, and for that, we are grateful. Any idea why this pair parked near Tralaska?"
"Someone loaded the wrong program into the flight computer. When the two ships arrived, the former went to recharge in the sun while the seeder waited out in the Kuiper Belt. The part of the program which was to activate the terraforming sequence was missing, so the two ships sat as they waited for an activation signal. One of Brown's crew hit the wrong button just after Quinn arrived. The rest is history. I've stripped-out the former and seeder routines and replaced them with station-keeping programs."
The two watched as several lawyers, including two Logash, walked up and joined the discussion.
"Oh, this is going to be fun," Agendor said. He took out a flask and handed it to Nystrom. "Cheers!"
The Basili opened the flask and took a drink before handing it back to the Logash. "Skol."
CHAPTER NINE
Down on Tralaska at Space Patrol HQ, Stan was getting vexed as he watched Quinn adjust her uniform for the umpteenth time. Not only was the fidgeting driving him mad, but her constant muttering under her breath was driving him to distraction as well. "They're washing me out, I know it. Too many screw-ups and too much property damage. What the hell was I thinking? I dented Tralaska-1 for plark's sake."
He reached over and took her by the shoulders. "I am armed, so either calm down or I will shoot both of us."
She slumped forward and hugged him. "I've always wanted to be a space pilot. Don't let them take that away from me."
Stan stroked her hair. "Everything will be fine. Just take a deep breath and calm yourself."
The door to the conference room opened followed by a yeoman walking out. "Captain, Lieutenant, they are ready for you."
With one final straightening, Quinn led the way into the room where her destiny awaited. They walked up to where Commander Nystrom stood and saluted him. "Captain Bracken and Lieutenant Stanley reporting as ordered, sir!" Quinn barked.
"At ease," he said after returning their salutes. "Quinn, Quinn, Quinn! What am I going to do with you...?"
"Sir! I want to express my full support of Captain Bracken and her decisions. I think this witch hunt..."
Quinn silenced him with a touch and a smile. "It's OK, Stan. Sir, I will tender my resignation..." She stopped when she saw the pair of medals he was holding out.
"One for you and one for Stan. These are Tralaskan Medals of Meritorious Conduct. Very few non-full-blood-Tralaskan people get one of these," he said as he pinned one on Quinn's jacket, then Stan's. "Quinn, Stan, the both of you were being evaluated while you were aboard the prototype and both of you passed with flying colors. Your evaluator was especially impressed with Quinn's willingness to die to save her copilot as well as the people of Tralaska. With that in mind, Quinn, I am reinstating your active duty status as well as full back-pay. Personally, I thought you were a plark-off, Captain, and I was wrong. When push came to shove, you acted in a way that exemplified the honor of the Space Patrol."
"I... I don't know what to say, except thank you. Sir, may I ask who was evaluating me?"
"Myself, Agendor, and Captain Wilson. Even though Olly is your fiancé’s brother, we felt that he could be honest and fair with his assessment of you. Now, we didn't plan this whole debacle around your evaluation, but we felt it was a good test of your character. Any questions?"
"No, sir," the two dumbfounded pilots said.
"Very good. Your new patrol ship will be arriving tomorrow. Once it's checked out, you two can draw a patrol assignment, then get back to work."
"Yes, sir!"
"Dismissed!"
Salutes were exchanged before the two walked out of the room. Once in the corridor, Quinn and Stan sat down and tried not to shake.
"I thought I was going to get canned, but instead, we get medals," Quinn whispered.
"Damn," Stan replied. Quinn cuffed him. "Ow!"
"That's for getting between me and a bullet, fool."
"No one else in the patrol would put up with me," he informed her. He got up and straightened his uniform. "Ali called me. She wants me to join you two for dinner. Is that OK with you?"
"It's fine by me. Are you bringing someone?"
"I was thinking of asking Sarah. She seems nice."
"I thought hot was a better word, but we can go with nice."
"Then I better get with asking her. 1900 hours at Cafe Volcano?"
"Yep." She stood up and hugged the Alue. "And thanks for helping me with all this. You're a true friend." They hugged once more before parting and headed back to their billets to prepare for the night's festivities.
###
Quinn walked into the bar and was instantly besieged by patrons who had seen news reports of her stopping the seed ship from destroying the planet. After shaking hands and having pictures taken of her hugging at least two dozen people, Quinn made a graceful escape. Once clear of the crowd, she found an empty seat at the end of the bar where she made a call to Commander Nystrom. "Sir, with all due respect, what the hell is going on?" she asked before going into detail about the encounter she had just had with her adoring fans.
"Space Patrol needs pilots and ground crews, and you're the new face of the patrol who will help fill that need. Shake hands, smile, take pictures, then point out the nearest recruiting center. The patrol is counting on you, Captain. Now, enjoy your dinner and remember to smile when your fandom besieges you. Command out."
"Oh my God! I'm a plarking mascot for Space Patrol!"
"It's not all that bad. I bet the number of your InterWeb likes is going to skyrocket!" Olly said as he sat down next to her. "Keep! Two Unicorn Farts but keep the safeties on."
"Hey, Olly," Quinn said as she gave him a hug. She stepped back and ran her hand over his dress uniform. "Is this regulation?"
"It was, two centuries ago," he replied as the drinks arrived. "Bottoms up!"
"Stop! Those things are fatal to full-blood humans."
"Not with the safeties on. This form is only mildly euphoric." He quaffed his drink, then ordered another while Quinn sipped hers.
"So, tell me about your uniform."
"First, I need you to promise something, something that has to do with Ali."
"What?"
"Promise that you will hear me out, and you will remember that Ali is still Ali. The only thing that may change is your perception of her."
"OK, I promise. So, what's the story?"
"Back in the year 2020, or thereabouts, a Dr. Mara Trinity was given a contract by the Nordicans to create an organic, binary weapon which would be used to destroy several other races they felt would be a threat to the Nordicans and the human population of Earth. After a few false starts, she was able to create a pair of twins--a boy and a girl--both in their late twenties. Together, the twins could destroy a world."
Quinn finished her drink in one gulp. "Keep! Another one, but keep the safeties off," she ordered. "Am I going to like how this story ends?"
"I hope so. Anyway, while developing this weapon, Mara's plans went awry when she developed maternal feelings for her brood as well as a conscience, she gathered up all but one of her children, put them into stasis chambers aboard a stolen Alue ship, and put them to sleep for the long voyage to a faraway system where she thought she and her children could live in peace."
"All but one?"
"Yes, the male half of the binary weapon stayed behind to c
over their tracks. His final act was to erase his memories and activate a backup personality. In the time it takes to fire a neuron, he went from weapon to a getaway driver for the gangs of New York City."
"That was over two hundred years ago..."
"The failsafe he tripped to escape detection--you see, the Nordicans never knew he and his sister existed and he wanted to keep it that way--malfunctioned. He retained the telepathic powers which were part of the weapon-side of him. These powers were detected by the United States Military, and they offered him a job driving a dead mechanoid..."
"You're that Olly!"
"Guilty as charged. I ended up in a cave near Area 51, trapped inside a stasis-equipped ejection pod. They found me a little over a year ago."
"You destroyed Iona, but no one knows how. I've read the reports, but they were redacted with a blaster."
"That's because I was reunited with Ali, and we became... weaponized for a few minutes. We destroyed Iona. No weapons, no spaceships, just two really pissed-off GELFS. When it was over, we took each other's hands, said the magic words, and became normal, though slightly-twisted, human beings that everyone loves... Right?"
She stared at him for a moment. "Does she know all this?"
"She remembers nothing that occurred after I activated the backup personality. Mara had this thing about not testing shit prior to fielding it. Ali became someone else when I blanked my memories. That personality evaporated when she and I became fully human."
"So, she doesn't remember destroying Lola?"
"Nope. Her memories of the past end when she enters stasis and begin when she wakes up aboard the rescue ship Zephyr. I'm the only one who knows the whole story."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because you deserve to know about the family you're joining, and Ali deserves the clean slate she's been given. You're good for her, and she's good for you. Neither of you deserve to suffer for the sins of my creator. Oh, and you're going to propose tonight, aren't you?"
"How the hell...?" She gave up and shook her head. "I noticed you haven't mentioned my reinstatement as a patrol pilot."
"Why would I? Lady, you earned that when you nearly leapt to your death. You calculated the odds and willingly put your life on the line to save your copilot and Tralaska. Sister, that was all you. I just gave you another option."
"How many times have you given your life for that which you love?" she asked.
"I'm still alive, so none. I'm just a driver. You notice that I'm not the face of the Space Patrol."
Quinn tilted her head back and laughed. "A few days ago, I was sure I was about to be canned. Now, I'm the face of Space Patrol. How the hell did that happen?"
Olly smiled at her. "I think we should go find our respective sweeties and save Stan from a fate worse than death."
"What fate is that?"
"Having to perform small talk with three ladies."
He took her by the arm and led her to their table while the world continued to spin underneath them.
CHAPTER TEN
The Olgath system was typical for a type-G star system: nine planets with two in the Goldilocks zone, three gas giants, and an asteroid belt just beyond the fourth planet. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Twelve survey bots plied the asteroid belt in search of ores and precious metals. The mining operation on Olgath-3, led by Dr. Mara Trinity and her family, had expanded into space and was actively looking for rocks to turn into credits.
Survey-6 was nearing the end of its cycle when its magnetometers pegged which meant either a glitch in the system or the mother of all iron asteroids had suddenly come into range. As programmed, Survey-6 ran three different diagnostic routines on the sensor package before rescanning. The signal was there, so Survey-6 reported its find to Olgath-3 before changing course to a heading which would bring it closer to the source of the signal. It arrived just as a large ship disappeared into other-space. Seeing nothing of further interest, the probe sent a report to the mine before continuing its survey.
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About Frank Carey
Frank Carey has been formally writing and publishing works of science fiction since late 2013. Over the years prior, he had dabbled in various forms of writing including haiku poetry, but that all changed when he and his wife, Jo, decided to try their hand at writing and self-publishing. All his work, to date, has been in the science fiction genre.
Most of his stories take place about two centuries in the future when Earth joins the League of Planetary Systems. Many of his protagonists are strong females. He is an inveterate pantser who believes the story will go where the story wants to go.
Frank’s background includes degrees in physics and extensive work as a scientific programmer and technologist.
Frank and his wife produce a podcast—Xtreme Self-Publishing—which details their self-publishing efforts.
Frank can be reached through his podcast at xtremeselfpublishing.podbean.com or via e-mail at [email protected] or [email protected]
Table of Contents
TABLE OF CONTENTS
COPYRIGHT
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
