War Orphans (The Terra Nova Chronicles)

by Robert Dean Hall

  Hayes laughed. He leaned back in his chair and evaluated the nervous Teacher further.

  “From reading your file, Sergeant, I think you’ll make a good Marine Special Operative. I also think you’ll make one hell of an officer. If you do well in your training, you’ll be no less than a first lieutenant before your next weekend pass. By the time you finish your training completely and we brief you for your first mission, you might leave here as a major.”

  “A major, Sir,” Teacher asked. His head started to spin.

  “Affirmative, Sergeant.”

  The feeling Teacher had that something difficult was about to be asked of him was growing stronger. He mulled his next response over before speaking. He wanted to sound as if he was willing to accept more responsibility if need be, but didn’t want to appear as if he hadn’t given it proper consideration. “I believe I can meet or exceed your expectations, Colonel, Sir.”

  Hayes grinned once more. “Excellent, Sergeant.”

  “However, Sir, I get the feeling my ability as a soldier or as an officer is not your main concern here.”

  Hayes stopped grinning, but didn’t scowl. “I’m listening, Sergeant.”

  “I’m appreciative that you’re willing to fast-track me, Sir, and I’m certain your offer is genuine, but…” Teacher paused again to choose his words carefully. “…I get the feeling it comes with a condition we haven’t discussed as yet.”

  “Very perceptive, Sergeant. I wouldn’t have expected anything less from you after reading your file. We do need something else from you, but it isn’t anything we feel will cause you to question your ethics. We simply want you to help us recruit from among the felines.”

  “I would be happy to, Colonel,” Teacher’s apprehension didn’t wane upon hearing Hayes’ condition. There was something more. Teacher was certain of it. “Is there anything else you need?”

  Hayes smiled again. He leaned back in his chair and studied Teacher’s body language for a moment before continuing.

  “May I ask you a question of my own, Sergeant?”

  “Of course, Colonel.”

  “What do you think of the separatists? I mean, personally?”

  Teacher was uncomfortable with the question. He had hoped it would come later rather than sooner. He was sure the most promising path for him to follow was to commit to the CEF, but it would make it nearly impossible to live among the felines from then on; at least for the foreseeable future. The separatists were once again gaining favor with the general population.

  “I think they’re extreme in their beliefs, but I can’t discount their feelings, Colonel. I had no compunction about fighting alongside them when those of you from Earth first arrived because I thought, just as they did; you were a threat to our existence.”

  “And how do you feel now, Sergeant?”

  “I believe I was wrong about that, Sir.”

  Hayes said nothing. He sat and continued to study Teacher.

  Teacher’s nervousness turned to annoyance and finally indignation as Hayes kept staring. Teacher lashed out.

  “I’m sure you already know, Sir, I have injured, maimed and killed humans from both Earth and Zunnuki. At the time I did those things, I was sure it was the right thing to do—”

  Hayes interrupted. “What changed your mind, Sergeant?”

  “Figuring out that allowing other people to do my thinking for me was big mistake, Colonel. I regret the things I did, but not as much as I regret my failure to ask the proper questions before I did them.”

  “That’s an unpleasant realization to come to, Sergeant. It’s also a soldier’s biggest moral dilemma. It’s easy to follow our leaders without question as long as we believe they can see more of the picture than we do and we’re able to trust they won’t lead us into folly. It’s not as easy if we have doubts about it. You must remember they carry a great deal more responsibility for what happens during wartime than you do. If you start refusing orders you don’t like without good reason you risk taking some of that responsibility upon yourself.”

  “What if you’re certain your leaders are wrong, Colonel,” Teacher asked. “What option do you have?”

  “Never question orders until you have proof they’re ill-advised, Sergeant. Hopefully that proof will make a difference. Even if it doesn’t in a given situation, it’s never every man for himself. You have your buddies to think about.”

  “I never looked at it that way before, Colonel.”

  “Then, I’m happy you’ll be taking something beneficial away from our conversation, Sergeant.” Hayes stood up and walked to the window. He looked out at the foothills where the separatists had their camp. “Why did you join the CEF, Teacher?”

  “I thought it offered me the best possibility for a future, Colonel.”

  “Even though you were fighting us to the death less than a month before,” Hayes asked, quickly. He made Teacher feel as if he were being cross examined.

  “Like I said, Colonel. At the time I felt it was the right thing to do. I was not a separatist, but I fought alongside them because I was convinced I was protecting my home from an invasion and occupation.”

  “In other words, you thought resisting us offered you the best possibility for a future.”

  “At that time I did, Colonel.”

  “What about the future of the rest of your people? Have you thought about that? There are felines out there in those hills who saw you get off that shuttle, today. They still think fighting us to the death is their best possibility for a future. In their eyes, you’re a traitor.”

  Teacher cleared his throat. He said nothing.

  “I’m fairly sure I know where your loyalties lie,” Hayes said. “You’re too damned intelligent not to have looked at the situation critically before making your decision to join. The only thing bothering me is you still haven’t figured out if joining the CEF out of your sense of self-preservation was a selfish act or not.”

  “Wasn’t it selfish, Colonel, Sir?”

  “Not if you believe it was the only reasonable choice left to you, Son. It’s certainly not selfish if you believe it’s the right choice for others in your situation and you would advise them to do the same.”

  “What is it you really need from me, Colonel? What is it you truly want in return for fast-tracking me?”

  Hayes pulled the sun shade down over the window. “I want you to follow your conscience. If you’re sure becoming a citizen of Earth and defending her against all enemies, whether they’re external or internal, is the right thing to do, then it’s the right thing to do at all times. No matter who or what that enemy is.”

  “Are you saying I might be called on to kill separatists, Colonel?”

  “I hope not, Son, but I can’t rule that out. I need you to understand and accept the eventuality.”

  “I understand, Colonel,” Teacher said. “And, I accept it.”

  “I also need you to understand that any collusion with the separatists you discover while you are under my command should be reported to me immediately, no matter who is involved. I make no exceptions.”

  “Yes, Sir, Colonel,” Teacher assured him. “I understand. Will that be all?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant.”

  “Lieutenant, Sir?”

  “I didn’t think I stuttered. See Leland on your way out. She has your paperwork.”

  Chapter 31

  11-May-2210

  Aboard the SS Neil A. Armstrong.

  Russo yawned as Morning Grass assisted her with the pre-flight checklist. Haley was in the payload section finishing the inventory of the medical supplies so they could be restocked before departure.

  There should have been another pilot rated for this class of shuttle sitting in the co-pilot seat instead of Morning Grass. But, due to unforeseen circumstances not explained to Russo’s satisfaction, the fully stocked medical shuttle and the promised co-pilot were not in the shuttle bay when the trio arrived promptly at 0600.

  Another co-pilot had been locate
d and assigned, but would not be there until 0630. While Haley was restocking, Russo decided to prep the shuttle so when the airman arrived the group could depart as soon as they were cleared by Air Traffic Control.

  Russo watched as Haley pushed a cart past the cockpit window on her way to the locked medical storage area located at the other end of the shuttle bay.

  Over one hundred flying ambulances could be stored and prepped in this medical shuttle bay that had as much floor space as the playing field of a football stadium. Of that number, only five actually belonged to the Armstrong. As the carrier of the group, she was required to provide a home for all of the shuttles while the battle group was on station. The shuttles would be sent back to their assigned vessels for the long haul when the group was required to return to Earth.

  Just as Russo and Morning Grass finished the check list, the backup pilot showed up at the shuttle. He reported to the cockpit and offered to replace Morning Grass at the co-pilot station.

  “Stay where you are, Captain Morning Grass,” Russo commanded. She got up from the pilot’s chair and inspected the insignia on the co-pilot’s flight suit. “Follow me, Lieutenant Li,” she told the young marine aviator.

  The two walked to the payload section.

  “Have you been given medic training, Lieutenant?”

  “No, Major.”

  “What about first aid?”

  “No, Major, I have no medical training whatsoever.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Russo yelled. She ordered the young pilot to stay put and assist Haley with restocking.

  Russo made her way back to the cockpit and put on a helmet. She opened up the communications link and tapped the microphone that dropped down in front of her mouth.

  “Would it be possible to speak to whoever is in charge of medical flights,” Russo asked as sweetly as she could manage through clenched teeth.

  “ATC here,” somebody replied in a stern male voice. “This channel is for traffic control only. We don’t handle any 4-1-1 bullshit. Give me your flight number.”

  Morning Grass smiled as Russo opened the channel back up to speak.

  “Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” Russo said in the same sweet voice. “I’m afraid due to a small faux pas committed by somebody up there, the fully stocked ambulance I was supposed to take to the surface for humanitarian relief was repurposed. So, I don’t have a new one of those flight number thingies you were asking me for yet.”

  “Identify yourself,” the air traffic controller demanded, his voice still surly.

  “The name is Russo.” Her voice now showed none of its previous sweetness. “And, unless your oak leaf is darker than mine or you have a big-assed bird on your collar, you would be best served by putting whoever is in charge of the fucking bus rides on the line.”

  The channel was silent for almost a minute when someone spoke up.

  “Sorry Major,” the voice on the other end said, “Captain Hawn here.” It was the same male voice, but much less gruff. “The flight surgeon on deck will be here momentarily. He’ll be able to explain the change in equipment and personnel to you.”

  Russo closed the communication channel and removed the helmet. She excused herself and headed once again from the cockpit to the payload section. When she opened the hatch, she saw Li helping Haley restock the supply cabinet. The two seemed to be getting along quite well. Haley was giggling at something the pilot said. She was in the middle of an instinctive hair-flip when Russo decided to fully enter the payload bay.

  As soon as Russo passed all the way through the hatch, the pair snapped to attention.

  “At ease, damn it. I may be pissed, but I’m not going to bite anyone. Haley, you know better. Lieutenant Li, I can see by the ID tag on your uniform you are a native Mandarin speaker. Am I correct?”

  “Yes Major,” Li responded in Sino.

  “How well do you speak pure English?”

  “I have four years of English, Major. Two in prep school and two at the university level.”

  “Where,” Russo inquired.

  “Queen Victoria University in Hong Kong, Major.”

  “How long has it been since you spoke English in a conversation lasting more than ten sentences,” Russo asked, “because we’re about to set this thing down on foreign soil in the middle of a population that doesn’t speak Sino or Mandarin. They speak a dialect of English that, as far as Earth is concerned, never existed before a few months ago.”

  “I haven’t conversed in English since I was last on Earth, Major.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant. You may help Haley finish the restocking.”

  Russo returned to the cockpit to wait for the flight surgeon on deck, or his OD to contact her. As soon as she cleared the hatch Morning Grass handed her the pilot’s helmet and flipped a switch on the instrument panel.

  “Go ahead, ATC,” Morning Grass said and closed the switch again so that the conversation between Russo and whoever was on the other end would be heard only on Russo’s helmet and not over the cockpit’s loudspeakers.

  “This better be a fucking emergency,” said the annoyed voice that boomed inside Russo’s helmet.

  “Russo here,” she replied, just as gruffly, “And, yes, this is pretty damned important.”

  “Dawn Marie. Oh my goodness. How the hell are you, girl? This is Colonel Mbenga.”

  “It’s nice speaking to you, Charles,” Russo lowered her helmeted forehead into the palm of her hand and grinned.

  Morning Grass could not hear what was Russo was listening to, but was hopeful the major’s frustration may soon be evaporating.

  “Is this a private channel,” Russo asked, “If not, you might want to turn the burner down to simmer.”

  “For gosh sakes, DM, lighten up. ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell’ went out of vogue ages ago. Besides; we both know I’m not fooling anyone.”

  Russo laughed and turned to Morning Grass to give her a ‘thumbs up’. Morning Grass didn’t know exactly what it meant, but hoped it meant good news.

  “You know since you went to the ‘dark side’ the rest of us on the flight deck have been worried about you,” Mbenga said. “Are you doing us proud?”

  “I think the jury might still be out on that one. Listen, Charles, I’d love to catch up with you, but I’m behind schedule here.”

  “Understood,” Mbenga replied, “What can I do you for?”

  “It’s about the copilot you assigned to me for my mission to the feline settlements.”

  “You mean Li? The man is adorable, is he not?”

  Russo put her forehead back into her palm as Mbenga prattled. “Please focus, Charles,” she asked, “He has no medical training whatsoever and he isn’t a native English speaker. You know as well as I do the command will shit a brick if it gets back to them we didn’t send our ‘A’ players on a mission with such a strong diplomatic element.”

  “Back off and let me explain,” Mbenga begged the angry Russo. “Li asked for this mission. Well, not this exact mission, but one similar. He’ll do fine. I promise.”

  “I don’t have time for this, today,” Russo replied. “I already have a trainee to orient. She’s been through the mandatory classroom portion and this is the start of her beginner level clinicals. Li doesn’t even have first aid training.”

  “Remember who you’re talking to, DM,” Mbenga assured Russo. “I have your back. I wouldn’t send you a warm body that would be of no real use to you. Besides, the classroom orientation is only four hours of showing the trainees pictures of bandages, tweezers, and syringes. You know that. Li really wants to be a paramedic one day and he is a very fast learner. Trust me.”

  “I don’t know,” Russo answered. “This isn’t going to be GI Joe passing out candy bars and pulling coins from behind the ears of aboriginals. These are intelligent and technically adept people. If this is anything like the last few outreach clinics, the local government will be there and they’ll be observing us closely. They’ll know if we aren’t putting our best effort into
this.”

  “We’re short-handed at the moment, Dawn Marie. This is the best I can do for you today. I promise you I’ll have a fully trained paramedic assigned to you on any future outreaches if Li doesn’t work out. Just please do this for me.”

  Russo threw her hands up in resignation. “Alright, Charles. Just this once. Haley is already bonding with him, anyway. You owe me big time, though, and I’m late getting out of here. Get me launch clearance and make sure this bus doesn’t get stuck at the ass end of the pattern.”

  “You got it, DM,” Mbenga replied. “Stand by for your flight number and clearance. Oh, and the RAMs will be having a poker tournament in the flight deck lounge on Sunday. May I tell them you’ll be there? Most of them would love the opportunity to win back some of the credits you took from them last time.”

  “I don’t know for certain, but I’ll try.”

  “Fair enough,” Mbenga responded. “A flight number’s been poked into your transponder. Get back onto the public ATC channel and wait for clearance.”

  Russo removed her helmet and turned to Morning Grass.

  “Looks like we’re stuck with Li today. I was hoping to be able to spend more time on your field orientation, but I’ll be the only one available to see serious patients. Haley will be the only one left to look at the minor cuts and scrapes. You and Li will be relegated to running errands for the both of us most of the day. I’m sorry. I won’t have much time to spend observing you so you probably won’t be logging your full set of clinical hours on this trip.”

  “I understand, Major,” Morning Grass replied, “It’s alright.”

  “No it isn’t, but it’s the way it has to be. I’ll be making sure it doesn’t happen again.” Russo put her hand on Morning Grass’ shoulder and smiled at the disappointed feline. “Would you mind going back to the payload bay and telling Li he’s needed up here? We’re ready to take off.”

  Chapter 32

  Teacher poked his head into Leland’s office. “Colonel Hayes told me to see you, Captain.”

  “Yes, Lieutenant. I have a couple of screens that need your thumbprint.” Leland smiled at Teacher and motioned for him to enter. She stood up and walked around her desk with a tablet in her hand. She moved next to Teacher and leaned in close as she held it up for him to see. “Place your thumb there,” she instructed him, “and, there.”