Solfleet: Beyond the Call

by Glenn Smith

  “I’ll be sure to thank her... if I ever get out of here.”

  “As soon as I found out what happened and was going on, which was only three days ago by the way, I sent a team of my own security personnel to relieve them and made plans to come here as soon as I could.”

  “I really appreciate that, Mirriazu,” he told her earnestly. “Thank you.”

  “That’s Madam President to you, Mister Hansen,” she told him in no uncertain terms, “and as I said, I came here for her sake.”

  “Well, I appreciate that just as much, Madam President,” he assured her. “Maybe more.” A moment passed between them in silence. Then he asked her, “Do you have any idea why these people here have been treating me the way they have? Why I’ve been locked up here for twelve days without being charged with anything or afforded an opportunity to seek legal counsel?”

  “Your actions, Mister Hansen—what you did to get yourself arrested and thrown into that cell—are indicative of espionage. You’re under investigation as a potential enemy spy, listed as a prisoner of war rather than as a criminal offender. That makes your treatment perfectly legal.”

  He looked her in the eye, searching for any sign that she herself might have any doubts as to his loyalty, but she didn’t so much as blink or glance away from him for a millisecond. Try as he might, he still couldn’t read her. “I’m no enemy spy, Madam President,” he assured her. “You of all people know that.”

  “Yes, I do,” she admitted freely. At least he’d gotten that much out of her. “I looked into your arrest and into the details of the case against you and I know exactly what you were doing. That’s why I came here personally, to see that you’re released immediately.”

  Nick drew a deep breath and then bowed his head and closed his eyes as he exhaled with relief. She’d come to see him released immediately. After twelve long, lonely days he was finally getting out of that place.

  “But understand this, Mister Hansen,” she continued. He lifted his gaze to hers once more and realized how serious she was when she said, “If you ever do anything like that again...”

  “I do understand, Madam President and I promise that I won’t, but I have to track current events somehow. You know that. And I need to find out...”

  “We discussed that matter earlier,” she reminded him, raising her voice impatiently. “We are tracking current events.”

  He needed to watch his step. He couldn’t afford to make her any angrier than she already was. He wasn’t out of that cell yet. “All right, fine,” he acquiesced. “But I still need to find the answers to those other questions. The question of the memory-edit, my nightmares...”

  “I’ve ordered Commodore Bhatnagar to look into that for you.”

  “Commodore Bhatnagar?” Nick asked, a little confused.

  “The Joint Chiefs recommended I appoint her permanent chief of the S-I-A. She’s done a fine job following up behind you, so I did so, yesterday.”

  “But that doesn’t make any sense,” he charged, eliciting a look of disapproval. “Pardon my saying so, Madam President, but keeping the chair warm until one of my former subordinates is promoted and appointed to the position is one thing and I’m all for it. But to appoint her as the new permanent chief? She’s never even worked in Intel before. She’s a former starship captain.”

  “First of all, whether or not you’re all for it is irrelevant,” she told him. “Secondly, none of it is any longer any of your concern, is it?” When Nick only gazed at her in response, she went on, “I’ve told her to look into it most thoroughly and to let us both know if and when she finds any evidence... any evidence, that you were ever subjected to a memory-edit.” She stepped up to the wall, effectively stepping right up into his face, and added, “But understand this clearly, Mister Hansen. If you ever hack into any government agency’s network again, I will personally see to it the authorities throw you under the prison and leave you there until the time comes to carry you out on a gurney with a sheet over your head. I’m putting my personal and professional reputations on the line by ordering your release today. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I do,” he answered. What else could he say?

  “Good.” She stepped back and looked over at the guard, who’d been trying real hard to look oblivious to their exchange the entire time. “Release him, now, and see to it he gets his own clothes back and makes it home.”

  “Yes, Madam President,” the guard replied as he approached to unlock the cell door.

  Chapter 36

  True to his word, as soon as he had changed out of his inmate’s fatigues and back into his own clothes and had out-processed from the confinement facility, Nick had asked the troop who had been assigned to drive him home, a green as a sapling’s twig Solfleet Security Police private who didn’t look a whole lot older than Heather, to first drive him over to the Solfleet detachment commander’s office. He’d done so without question—apparently, retired admirals were every bit as frightening as active-duty admirals—and Nick had gone inside and thanked her personally for keeping his arrest and subsequent confinement quiet. She’d promptly replied that she’d done it for the good of the service rather than for his own, but he’d offered his thanks anyway and then left her to her work.

  He glanced at his watch as the private pulled over to the side of the road in front of his house—it was almost 1500 hours—and then thanked the young man for the ride and climbed out of the sedan. Where were the security personnel Mirriazu had told him she’d assigned to watch the house? There didn’t seem to be anyone around, though he thought he could hear music and voices coming from around back, or maybe upstairs. As he walked up the flagstone path, he was pleased, though a little surprised, to see that the front door had been repaired and looked as good as new. The police had caused only minimal damage to it, thanks to their ability to quietly defeat pretty much every kind of electronic lock on the market, but to look at it now one could never tell that they’d broken through it at all. The small gouges and scratch marks that he was sure their breaching device had left behind—they always left small gouges and scratches behind—had been removed, and whoever had done the work had sanded and refinished the entire surface. It really did look brand new.

  Then again, maybe it was brand new. The detachment commander again?

  He punched his five-digit access code into the panel, listened for the latch to unlock, and then pulled the door open and walked inside. It felt like the same door—the right weight and the right swing... if that was even really something that could be felt. If they had installed a new one, they’d done a good job finding it. “Heather?” he called out as he pulled the door closed behind him and secured it. She didn’t respond and he still didn’t see anyone from Mirriazu’s team, but as he walked through the foyer toward the kitchen, the music and the banter and laughter of what sounded like a number of young people grew a little louder, definitely coming from out back by the pool.

  He walked through the kitchen, opened the sliding door, which had been left slightly ajar, and stepped out onto the deck to the cacophony of a party. As he approached the railing he looked down into the back yard to find that Heather had opened the pool again and that she and her friend Rebecca and about half a dozen other girls their age were all putting it to good use. Most of them were wearing bikinis of various bright colors and patterns, but Rebecca had taken off her top at some point, no doubt after having been talked into doing so by Heather, who he was disappointed to see wasn’t wearing anything at all.

  There were a couple of young adult women down there as well, one with long blond hair, sitting in a lawn chair on the near side of the pool with her back to the house, watching the girls as though she were a lifeguard, the other with shorter brown hair, wandering around inside the perimeter fence. Both were wearing tan camping-type shorts, white tank tops with button-down shirts hanging open over them, sneakers, and dark glasses. Mirriazu’s security agents, no doubt. He looked at the hip of the woman sitting in
the chair and saw the bulge of her sidearm under her open shirt. Definitely Mirriazu’s security agents.

  The music was coming from Heather’s portable player, which was sitting in the center of a small folding table surrounded by what remained of hamburgers and hot dogs and buns with all the condiments, a variety of chips and dips, and two or three kinds of soft drinks.

  Nick waved a hand and caught the perimeter walker’s attention, pointed at Heather, who was stepping up onto the diving board at that moment, and then turned and went back inside to wait, leaving the door open, knowing that the agent would send Heather up to see him.

  Moments later he heard her running up the deck stairs behind him and turned around just in time to see her rush inside... holding her large beach towel around her, thankfully. “Dad!” she shouted with delight as she practically threw herself into his welcoming arms, eliciting a grunt. “You’re home! Are you okay?” she then asked as she squeezed him tight.

  “I’m fine, sweetheart,” he replied, hugging her as tightly as she was hugging him. He was so glad to see her. “I’m just glad to see you’re all right.”

  “I’m good,” she told him. “Some woman from the base stayed here with me the whole time until Mirriazu brought her people. She was actually pretty nice, too. I liked her and we got along really well.”

  “Glad to hear it. I just saw Mirriazu a little while ago. She filled me in on everything.”

  Heather loosened her hold, so Nick released his daughter but held her at arms’ length as she adjusted her towel, which she’d barely caught before it fell loose. At least she was covering up for him. “I see you made some more new friends,” he observed.

  “Yeah, some more girls from my new school,” she explained. “They just finished their school year, so I’m helping them celebrate. That’s okay, isn’t it? I mean, you weren’t here for me to ask first, so I just...”

  “Yeah, it’s fine,” he told her. “No problem. I’m glad to see you’re making new friends so fast.” She’d never brought it up and he hadn’t pushed her to talk about it, but she’d lost nearly all of her friends when Mandela Station went down, and those few who’d survived had either been hospitalized or moved on to somewhere else, just as she had. It had to have been hard on her.

  “Yeah, I really like them. I’m going to like living here.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear that, but...” He was her father. He had to ask her. “Why aren’t you wearing anything?

  “Dad...” she protested calmly, rolling her eyes.

  “It’s a fair question, Heather,” he told her, being careful not to raise his voice at her even a little bit. “You’re outside in broad daylight where the neighbors can see you, with a bunch of girls you just met.”

  “Swimming and sunbathing in the nude on your own private property is not illegal, Dad,” she informed him, “regardless of whether or not the neighbors can see you. I know. I checked.”

  “That doesn’t mean you have to do it,” he countered.

  “No, but I enjoy doing it,” she pointed out. “It feels good and it’s relaxing. Besides, like you said, I’m out there with a bunch of girls I just met. Just girls, Dad. Even the agents Mirriazu assigned here have all been women. I didn’t have any boys over and there haven’t been any men here since... well, since the police took you away.”

  “And it doesn’t bother you that the neighbors can probably see you?”

  “No, let ‘em look if they want to, if they can even see over the fence from that far away. I’m not going to let the fact that someone I don’t even know might be able to see me spoil my fun. This is our house, not theirs.”

  Nick gazed into his daughter’s beautiful green eyes and saw her sincerity. She’d meant every word she’d just said. She felt completely comfortable in her skin and really didn’t care at all if someone saw her naked. He drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly. What was a father to do? His baby was growing up. “Go on,” he finally told her, surrendering. “Go have your fun.”

  “Thanks,” she said, smiling. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, then hurried back outside.

  He followed her out onto the deck and approached the railing while she turned off to the right and hurried back down the stairs to rejoin her friends. He waved to catch the roving agent’s attention again and then gestured toward the gate to let her know they were dismissed. The agent waved back to him in acknowledgement and then signaled her partner. As they started to leave, heading for the gate to walk out around the house rather than through it—he hadn’t actually meant they had to go that way—Nick glimpsed Heather as she tossed her towel aside and jumped into the pool and noticed that Rebecca had put her top back on, then went back inside.

  He went into his den and closed the door behind him—everything seemed to be exactly as he’d left it—then walked around behind his desk and opened the top drawer. He took out Johnson’s data-chip and slipped it into his terminal and tapped the call button, then sat down. A few seconds later Johnson’s image appeared on the monitor.

  “Admiral Hansen!” the surprised young man’s image exclaimed. “Where have you been, sir? I’ve been trying to reach you for over a week!”

  “Long story, Rod,” Nick replied. “Tell you later. Are we still a go for the... for what we discussed earlier?”

  “Yes, sir, we are. Just say the word.”

  “How soon can we proceed?”

  “That depends, sir,” Johnson answered noncommittally. “How soon can you get here?”

  “Is tonight too soon?”

  “Not at all, sir,” the younger man assured him, shaking his head. “We’ll be here.”

  “Good. We’ll be there around twenty-hundred hours.”

  “Roger that, sir. See you then.”

  The screen went dark.

  Nick pulled the chip and dropped it back into his desk drawer, then stood up and left his den. As he walked back into the kitchen on his way to the deck, he considered hiding that chip somewhere else. But then he reconsidered. If anything happened to them out there... if things went badly and they found themselves unable to return home, that chip might provide the only clue as to who he and Heather were with and where they’d gone—might ultimately provide the initial intelligence necessary for someone to launch a rescue mission of their own. No, leaving it right there in the desk drawer was the smarter course of action.

  He stepped back out onto the deck and called, “Heather,” as he walked over to the top of the stairs. When she looked up at him he gestured for her to come back upstairs, so she walked over to the chair over the back of which she’d tossed her towel, grabbed it and wrapped it around her again, and then hurried back up the stairs.

  “What’s up, Dad?” she asked him as she reached the top.

  “We’re going on a trip tonight, you and I,” he told her.

  “Really?” she asked with an interested grin. “Where are we going?”

  “I can’t tell you that yet.”

  “So it’s a surprise?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes. You can have two or three more hours out here with your friends, but then I need you to send them home. Tell them you’ll be back in a few weeks and say your good-byes, then come in and get cleaned up and pack about a week’s worth of clothes and whatever else you might need. We’ll go out for dinner and then leave directly from there.”

  “A few weeks?”

  “Yeah, we’re going off world.”

  “Oh,” she responded neutrally. Then, with a quick dismissive shrug of her shoulders, she said, “Okay.” She pulled her towel as she headed back down the stairs. Nick went back inside.

  Chapter 37

  Earth Standard Date: Wednesday, 13 April 2168

  Major Icarus Hansen yawned and shook his head vigorously a couple of times to wake himself up, then looked up at the cabin clock and was surprised to see just how late it really was. No wonder he’d started losing focus and had had to read the last few pages over again in order to fully comprehend what he had
read. He’d buried his nose in the book more than seven hours ago. Actually it was closer to eight, though it only seemed like it had been about half that long. Jessie, who had even more of a thing for very old classic works of science-fiction than he did, had told him when she gave it to him that she thought he’d enjoy it, and he’d learned a long time ago that she was usually right about such things, but he’d never expected it to draw him in the way it had. Despite the fact that it had been published two hundred years ago, Frank Herbert’s Dune had grabbed him from the moment he cracked the cover and had never let go, almost as though the desert-dwelling Fremen themselves had captured him and buried him up to his neck in the deep desert spice sands of Arrakis.

  That Jessie had chosen a book for him in which the leading lady shared her name hadn’t been lost on him, either, especially as he got to know the character better. The Lady Jessica, a Bene Gesserit by training and mother to Duke Leto Atreides’ son Paul, was not the Duke’s wife. Rather, she was his bound concubine. She loved him as deeply as he loved her—deeply enough to disobey her superiors within the Bene Gesserit sisterhood and bear him a son—but she knew that for purely political reasons he could never marry her. In the story, Lady Jessica had accepted and learned to live with that fact. By giving him this particular book, was his own Lady Jessie trying to tell him that she might be willing to be as magnanimous in reality? Or, was she perhaps trying to tell him that such things only happened in science-fiction and that she in fact would not be willing to live with such an arrangement?

  Either way, it made no difference to him. Duke Leto Atreides might have had compelling reasons not to marry his Lady Jessica, but Major Hansen had no such political restrictions, and that kind of a living arrangement was something he had never even considered for them. He was thirty-one years old now and was nearly a full decade into what was turning out to be a very successful military career. He’d been seeing his Lady Jessie for almost two years and had grown to love her very much. As a matter of fact, he intended to propose to her as soon as he got back to Mandela Station.