by Trent Falls
“You can fly that thing?” Mary asked.
“Yes ma’am!” Petersen said with a glowing confidence. “All marines are taught to fly.”
Mary Dekker took a deep breath. It was all too much at once. Her husband was gone. Who knows if he was still alive? And Jensen and all their hands. Were they the only two left?
A light flickered on in the rear cargo area of the shuttle. Petersen gestured to the vehicle. “Why don’t you go inside and get comfortable? I’m good here.”
Mary looked at the rear cargo ramp. The inside of the ship was bathed in a crisp white light. The vessel looked a bit like a moving van in layout with the rear loading ramp and wide cargo area. A few seats were visible closer to the front of the cargo bay, where a small passage led to the flight deck.
“Okay.” Mary noted in a strained tone.
Petersen continued working on the exterior nav computer. A series of mathematical expressions flashed across the screen as the exterior computer worked with the transports nav computer to calculate a quick plot.
Mary walked slowly up the ramp, peering further into the cargo area. It seemed well kept. Everything was in its place. Everything was clean, painted white or a light grey. Max and his federal contractors must have thought that such a scenario was very possible. The hangar was kept up to shape, as was the transport. Its whole purpose was designed around the possibility for escape. Mary looked at the number of chairs. Surely there wasn’t enough for all their hands at their compound. There wasn’t enough space for everyone. If everyone had been able to escape the Xen, some would have had to stay behind.
Mary thought of her husband again. It almost overwhelmed her to think that Max was very likely dead. He wasn’t able to escape.
“We’re just about ready.” Petersen said, getting up from the computer. The machine continued to operate on its own. It would talk with the transport until liftoff.
“Come on.” Petersen ushered Mary from the edge of the loading ramp towards one of the chairs. “Strap in. We should be off in a moment.”
Mary sat down. She was clearly unsure of how the straps worked.
“Here.” Petersen stopped to help her. “It’s a five point.” Petersen helped the aged Mary Dekker strap into the chair. Even though they were in a panic for their lives, Petersen still treated Mrs. Dekker with a kind hand, still remembering that she was the boss’ wife. He clicked the center of the five-point shut and patted Mrs. Dekker lightly on the shoulder.
“Good to go.” Petersen grinned at her before moving off through the passage to the flight deck.
The hall was but a few feet. Petersen stowed his rifle in a small rack locker near the entry. He then stepped over the console and set himself down in the left seat. The flight deck was cramped, much like the cockpits of the old US space shuttles. The vehicle was already powered up. The screens around him came to life. He flipped a few switches above his head.
Outside, the loading ramp at the back withdrew into the ship. The rear entry was enclosed by a pair of thick reinforced doors. The transport vessel rotated on its pad about 90 degrees, towards a parting fissure in the mountain. The spreading rock was actually a specially designed door, opening a large panel in the mountain as an opening for the hangar. The short mountain valley beyond appeared through the opening.
It was a beautiful morning, Petersen thought. The crisp amber light and clear mountain air offered a grand vista of the rock faces in the distance. It was unfortunate that they had to leave like this.
“God, I hope this shit works.” Petersen breathed to himself. He grabbed the control stick with his left hand.
The engines of the transport powered up, building as a screech until growing into a roar. The throttle levers in the center console slid up on their own in an automated sequence. Massive mag locks held the ship in place until it throttled up. A screen in the center console read a countdown to launch. 3. 2. 1.
The mag locks released. The shuttle shot forward like a bullet. Inertial dampeners in the transport helped to minimize the sudden forward movement. They were suddenly rocketing out over the rust orange and faded green shrubs of the valley, climbing on a gentle slope up to the heavy clouds in the sky.
The ship buffeted slightly from air resistance. Petersen checked his instruments. No bogeys so far. He hoped beyond hope that the Xen wouldn’t see them. The transport vessel was unarmed.
The ground drew farther away. Clouds hazed over below them, becoming thicker and obscuring the ground as they climbed. Soon enough, they were far above the clouds and at a considerable altitude.
The warning console to Petersen’s left cried out with a klaxon and a red flashing light.
“Shit!” Petersen swore, flipping a red switch beside the flashing indicator light. The Xen had seen him. On the screen next to the light, a 2D display showed four blips approaching from the rear rather quickly. They were, thankfully, far off in the distance – well beyond the horizon by the looks of it. They were probably dispatched from the Xen carrier on the other side of the planet. Now that Petersen had achieved altitude, near the edge of space, his tracking sensors were able to pick up the Xen fighters now that he was above the horizon himself. They wouldn’t be able to reach him in time.
Petersen tapped the interior com switch on his headset. “Hang on. We’re about to jump to warp.” He said into the com, notifying Mrs. Dekker, who was probably terribly frightened.
The heads-up display on Petersen’s side showed that the ship was ready to jump to Proxima Five. With a little luck, they would be picked up by someone in the fleet.
The transport shot forward into the star-filled black ahead.
Chapter 3
“So here you have this character, Huey Long,” John paced in front of his class, his eyes turned down in thought as he lectured, “this cartoon character of a man, asserting his will on the legislature of Louisiana. A man who plotted and schemed his way into not only the Governorship of Louisiana but into the United States Senate as well. Long was a guy who was both hated for his dictatorial style of power – yet he was loved by the people he was trying to help – the poor.”
The students in John’s class, most in their late teens or early twenties, hung on his every word. John was a skillful orator. His tone and delivery made even the bland spots in history come alive. A holographic projector displayed several images behind him to aide his lecture. One was of the Louisiana state capitol and the other of Long himself in a white 1930’s era suit.
John wore his typical work garb as he spoke to his students; black slacks, a white dress shirt with faint grey pinstripes, and a blue tie.
“He was kind of a flamboyant guy. He had a new governor’s mansion built and he wore these white linen suits. Huey Long was… a... pimp!” John pointed to the hologram of Long.
The class laughed in unison.
“As I see it, Huey Long was someone, I believe, who enjoyed the sound of his own voice.” John raised an eyebrow and grinned. “It’s not a proper thing for an instructor teaching American history to pass judgment on the past but there’s a reason I bring up Huey Long.”
“I know we reviewed Huey Long and the period of the Great Depression a few months ago but, in this final lecture, I want to use Huey to illustrate a point I want you to carry with you.”
“Long was hated by his enemies. They saw him as an autocrat - someone who had a stranglehold on the reins of power in his state. A guy that could dish up dirt on a state senator if he didn’t vote his way. A guy that, when he became governor, fired most of the people in the executive branch and replaced them with his friends. A guy that profited from his own actions while governor!! A guy that would have you followed. YET….” John breathed, “… he used this power to help modernize Louisiana’s roads, to build their infrastructure, to get FREE textbooks to kids, to get rid of the poll tax.”
“My point to you in bringing up Long is this.” John raised a finger as he paced. “As citizens going out into the world you will have to make your own de
terminations on people. You will be confronted with many grey areas. You may not know what to do in such situations or how to view a situation and understand ‘the truth’, if not right away anyway.”
“There are not many black and white stories in history. Few are universally the bad guy or the good guy. Not many things are obviously good or bad. We need to maintain objectivity and really dig into the information we’re given to make informed decisions, not just on history but of life.”
John looked up at the clock on the wall. The time for his class was up.
“Okay, that’s it for today. I want you all to go home and study, study, study!”
The words had barely left John’s mouth as some of the students moved to gather their belongings to leave. “Remember, finals next Tuesday! Ten easy questions but you have to turn in your research paper as well! And please! I want you all here on time!!!” John shouted aloud over more moving bodies. “Thanks! Have a good day!!!”
The majority of the kids got up and hurried past him. John turned off the holoscreen. The sound of shifting chairs and shuffling feet subsided. John put his notes back on his desk. Upon turning back around, he saw two of his male students standing nearby waiting for his attention. They were both fairly athletic in build; one white and one black.
“Mister Carn.” The young black man, Steve Banks, began. “We’re both enlisting in the EEF and were wondering if you could give us a bit of advice.”
John stared at them for a moment from beyond his shoulder, then continued collecting his things. “You boys want advice?” he turned to face them. “Finish college.”
“There’s a lot of opportunity out there in the colonies now, sir.” Banks continued. “Things are tough here on Earth. The military’s probably our best bet and, well, we’d like to get off Earth, and, you know, see the galaxy.”
“If you want it that bad you should still finish college.” John stood before them, very serious in his demeanor. “Go in as officers.”
“To tell you the truth, sir, we’re in our first year. Money’s tight. The US Army and the Earth Alliance will pay for our education if we enlist for four years.” Banks noted.
“I know how the EEF Bill works, Mister Banks.” John grinned. “It paid for my education too.”
“We’re committed to going, sir.” The white male, Lenny Goldman, added. “We just wanted to know… what’s it like?”
“What’s what like?” John asked.
“Going into space.” Goldman clarified.
“Well, imagine being put into one tin can, shot into the sky until you get into the cold vacuum of space, put in another tin can, then another, and all the while knowing that if one of those tin cans springs a leak that you’re done for.” John explained bluntly.
The expression on both boys’ faces was blank.
John shook his head. He did want to give them an accurate idea of what would lie ahead. “It’s not all that bad, really.” John went on in a warmer tone. “It’s not like there’s a war on. I mean, you should go in knowing that war could break out at any moment. And if it does, your ass still belongs to the EEF! You follow orders without question.”
“Yes sir, but we still would like to know what it’s like.” Steven pressed. “Space, I mean.”
“Space?” John picked up his leather satchel. “Space is cold, Mister Banks.” John gave him a serious stare. “Always has been. Always will be.”
John paused, finally getting all his papers together. He was ready to leave the classroom as well.
“Honestly, it’s underwhelming.” John added.
“Really?” Steve asked in shock.
“Yeah.” John answered. “It’s really neat the first time you set foot on another world, or when you see something like the rings of Saturn firsthand, but those things get old fast. And space is mighty cold! If the EEF posts you on a colony world I’d pray it’s a warm one! Most of them aren’t.”
John slung his bag over his shoulder. “You’re both good kids, honestly! And you’re both good students. Seriously, if you can finish school first before going to space, I’d go that route. I was an enlisted man in the EEF Marines. It seems like the EEF is a better experience if you’re some Lieutenant on, say, a nice cushy highliner security watch.”
The boys didn’t seem to have anything more to say. They seemed a bit disappointed by John’s response.
“You’ll both be fine.” He assured them. “I’ll see you guys Tuesday.” John smiled back on them before walking out of class and heading out into the crowded hallway.
John walked through a busy hallway trafficked heavily with students. A young female student in a tight white bodysuit and flowing violet scarves rushed past him in the opposite direction. Two rather studious looking guys, technophiles, stood at the side of the hall. Both wore the atypical monocle viewscreen extended from a mount over their right ears. The tiny screens were extended out on a thin arm from an earpiece set in one side of their heads.
The pair of double doors ahead led outside into the bright sunlight. More students stood beyond; chatting, doing homework, having phone conversations, having a snack on a bench. It was the daily hyperactivity of foot traffic typical to a community college campus.
“Why is it, you think, that so many old soldiers become history professors?” a voice came out from behind John.
John turned around to see a man in a traditional black suit. The aged face, framed by graying dark brown hair, was instantly recognizable.
“Troy!!!” John stated loudly. The greeting and the following hug made a few students look in their direction. John slapped his old friend on the back, extremely surprised and visibly grateful to see him. “Damn! It’s great seeing you! What brings you out to beautiful Palm Beach?”
The two men began walking together through the crowd.
“I mentioned your name to someone at the V.A. and they told me you were here.” Troy answered.
“You okay?” John asked. It wasn’t uncommon for EEF Marines to get sick, even years after returning back to Earth.
“Yeah, just a routine checkup.” Troy replied, holding up his right hand and moving the fingers. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
“Yeah.” John slowed in stride, looking over at David Troy for a moment. “Yeah sure. This way.”
John led them away from the main traffic path, over to a nearby stonework table.
“You have another class?” Troy asked, apparently only for small talk.
The men sat down. Instantly, a tall serving droid floated swiftly towards them.
“No, actually. I was going to the quad.” John explained. “The drama department is putting on an outdoor play of ‘Julius Caesar’”.
“Can I get you gentlemen something?” the brushed silver droid asked.
“You hungry?” Troy asked. He already had his cred card out.
John looked back at Troy blankly for a moment. He knew Troy had joined the Earth Security Force after leaving the Marines. The surprise visit combined with that knowledge made John a bit curious, if not outright wary.
“Yeah, what the hell.” John smiled broadly. Troy had been part of John’s unit. He had trusted him with his life for years. John turned to look at the sensor eye of the droid. “Mesquite Chicken Melt, chips, and a Mountain Dew.”
“Healthy.” Troy smirked.
“Bite me! I still run at least three miles a day.” John grinned back.
“I’ll have the same, only with a lemonade if you have it.” Troy noted to the droid.
The machine hovered off quickly to fulfill their order.
“'Julius Caesar' you say?” Troy reminded John of where he had left off.
“Yeah, the art department made these great sets and holograms of Rome.” John stated. “The kids who’ve seen it say you really feel like you’re there, especially from the way our quad is designed. They originally wanted to do ‘Titus Andronicus.’”
“Well… that’s a bit grim for a college campus.” Troy responded flatly.
“Yeah, a bit.” John replied. “So, why are you here? You’re not really here for a social call, are you?”
David Troy breathed deeply. “You’re going to think I’m insane for asking this.” Troy paused. “What do you know about the Norn?”
John reeled back at the remark, almost laughing aloud. “The Norn? Are you serious?”
“Indulge me.” Troy responded plainly.
“They’re a myth.” John blurted. His tone was heavily peppered with sarcasm. “The Norn? The ancient civilization that people think gave the secret of warp drive to the Chinese? The species, or whatever you call it, that a handful of nuts think are wandering the galaxy?”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much the common view.” Troy replied.
The droid was already back with their food. It was prepackaged but hot and smelled delicious as they unwrapped their sandwiches.
“Thinking of the topic seriously, do you believe the Norn may really exist?” Troy asked.
“They don’t.” John stated. “Well, if you think about it scientifically, there’s always the possibility they could exist, but in all the habitable worlds we’ve discovered, the only intelligent life we’ve found so far are the Xen, and they came from Earth originally anyway.”
“You once went on an expedition with Max Dekker and Kyle Jensen to try and find the Norn.” Troy noted.
“We went on a rescue mission.” John corrected him. “Lyle Ramirez went into the Vega System with about a dozen former Marines. A few of them were friends of ours. Remember Don Kellogg? Or Shane Washington? They were on that expedition. Not one of them have been heard from since they disappeared.”
“Yeah, I’ve read the reports.” Troy replied.
John took a big bite of his sandwich. He waited for a moment to chew before responding to Troy’s remark. “Then why’d you ask me the question?”
“Just routine.” Troy replied.
John stared at him for a moment. “What’s the deal? You and I have been friends for a while. What’s up with this visit? And why are you asking me about the Norn?”
