“Because he's... out there...” said Frank Naywood slowly, pointing at the stars.
“Right,” nodded Cooper. “Well the signal's encrypted but it's not invisible. SETI saw it, got all excited, thought it was an ET contact. DARPA saw it and suddenly the NSA's all over it. They can't crack the encryption and that scares the crap outta' them. And reportedly, the unit's the size of a laptop. Our equipment requires eighty-foot dish transmitters and hundreds of tons of electronics. Yeah, they want it bad. Real bad.” Cooper flicked the cigarette butt into the street and took a moment to fish out another, lighting it, taking a draw. “Anyway, they suspect the one with the gizmo is the sister staying at Steele's beach house. At this point the NSA is playing it cool, watching the house, hoping they can catch the gizmo in use and recover it. But the KGB is watching the same house, though to this day, nobody knows why. But the Ruskies make a move first, the shit hits the fan and the KGB team gets themselves offed.”
“Jesus Christ,” mumbles Frank. “So let me backtrack a moment; the news broadcast reports a year ago about the sightings and the things near the moon...”
“All true. CSS and NSA squashed them for national security. Don't panic the citizenry and all that...”
“Who's CSS?”
“Central Security Service. They're controlled by the DOD. The orders for the NSA guys involved in this are probably coming from the CSS.”
“Which is coming from the DOD, then...”
The FBI agent took another drag on his cigarette. “Yep. Some righteously scary people.”
“And the incident on the beach...”
Cooper dropped the cigarette butt on the concrete and ground it out with the toe of his shoe. “Yeah. Real. I wasn't here that night but to hear the kid's parents tell it, that wasn't Steele or his ship...”
“Who then?”
“Another member of his fleet,” said Cooper casually.
“FLEET?!” That was way louder than Naywood had intended. “Fleet?” he whispered.
“Fleet.” confirmed Cooper. “So anyone remotely connected to Steele, is going to get a serious rectal exam from the NSA. They want Steele and the technology so bad; I really don't think they give a shit about anything else. In fact, I haven't talked to his folks in a while, I ought to do that. Make sure they're OK. This is starting to give me a seriously bad feeling.”
“Exponential expansion,” nodded Naywood, understanding a little better. “So all these people are connected to Steele?”
“In one form or another,” confirmed Phil Cooper. “Holt, Steele and Murphy are all in the same Masonic Lodge...”
“What about Caroline Murphy? What happened there?”
“That was an enemy asset elimination. She embarrassed them and they wanted her gone for that. They wanted a loud and clear signal this was something not to be fucked with.”
Naywood rubbed his face with his hands. “My God. These guys are acting like rabid animals. They're supposed to be protecting the citizens...”
Cooper shook his head, “No, protecting citizens is the job of law enforcement. Your job. These guys are tasked with protecting the country; which means sacrifices by the few for the benefit of the many. They have license to do whatever they need to do. Many levels of collateral damage are anticipated and accepted. ”
“I thought these people were supposed to be special...”
“They are special. Very special. Most are ex- Rangers, Seals, Special Forces... but there's a lot of internal pressure for results. I'm not making excuses but I certainly understand their frustration.”
“Doesn't excuse their behavior,” retorted the Sheriff. “This is an unacceptable excess of force.” His cell phone rang and he excused himself, answering it.
“Sheriff, this is dispatch. We have a phone call from someone claiming to be Chase Holt.”
“Put it through.” The Sheriff listened to the tone change, the line switching over. “Hello..?”
“Hello, this is Chase Holt... You won't be able to trace this call, so don't even try.”
“You're on my cell phone Mr. Holt. Are you alright?”
“Yes...”
“Do you have the girls with you?” There was a pause and Naywood thought maybe he'd lost the call. “Mr. Holt?”
“Yes sir,” his voice wavered. “They killed Pam. She's dead...”
“Goddammit,” he breathed. “Is Karen alright?”
“Yes, she's alright.”
“Where are you Mr. Holt? We know this wasn't your fault. Let us come and get you, we can help you.”
“No you can't Sheriff. Nobody can. We're on our own. I called to let you know where we left Pam, so you can get her...”
“Can I talk to Karen?”
“Maybe later, she's finally asleep now...”
CHAPTER SEVEN
UFW CONQUEST, GEDHEPP SYSTEM : BIRTH OF JAX MERCURY
The heat was staggering, a wind blowing across the desolate terrain like an unrelenting blast furnace. Very little grew there save the cactus and the scrub, an occasional rattlesnake or scorpion hiding in what little shade was available in the inhospitable terrain. A range of purple mountains shrouded in heat waves stretched across the backdrop and flat-topped buttes jutted out of the desert floor. Kyle Steele stood next to a barrel cactus in jeans and a loose white t-shirt looking bronzed, nearly sunburned. His t-shirt flapping in the breeze, he scoured the horizon with binoculars, “Lynette... Lynette!”
Lisa sat bolt upright, drenched in sweat, her heart pounding. Disoriented and confused, she had to examine her surroundings to determine where she was. It didn't make much sense at first, still feeling the heat of the desert and the hellish wind. In contrast, the climatized air in her quarters felt cool on her damp pajamas.
“Miss Lisa, I detect elevated body temperature and an accelerated heart rate. Are you feeling satisfactory?”
“Not now, TESS,” mumbled Lisa throwing off the sheets and running toward the door of her quarters, Gus on her heels.
■ ■ ■
Foggy, half asleep. Jack Steele reached for his robe, “Hold on, hold on...” He shuffled barefoot through his quarters to the incessant pinging of the door chime. Fritz lay on the sofa in the salon, his ears up, eyes open, unmoved.
“OK, OK,” said Steele, “enter already...”
The door swished open, disappearing into the bulkhead, his sister stumbling through the door, Gus trotting over to where Fritz lay, sitting quietly next to him. “Something's wrong. Something's wrong...” she chattered.
Sleepily, he waved her in. “Sure, c'mon in. I wasn't sleeping or anything...”
“I had a dream, a bad dream...”
“And you just couldn't wait till morning to tell me about it,” he said yawning. He opened a small fridge inset into the interior wall, “Juice?”
“Yeah, whatever,” she waved, obviously distressed, pacing.
“Look, I get it, you had a bad dream,” he said calmly. “It was just a dream...”
“No, it was one of those,” she countered.
Jack paused mid hand-off, a bottle of juice half-extended towards Lisa. He knew what that meant. She had a vision. Much more than a dream, more vivid, more real, almost tangible. His mother had them too.
“About Mom and dad,” she continued. “There's something wrong. Really wrong.” Lisa took the bottle, her hands a little shaky. “There's something else, I can't put my finger on it. There's other people too...” her voice trailed off as she stared off into the darkness.
“What other people? Who?”
She shook her head as she opened the juice, “I don't know I couldn't see faces.”
“Could you tell what's wrong?”Jack dropped wearily onto the sofa next to Fritz.
“It's very abstract, I'm not sure I can understand it all, but I could feel it...”
Jack took a swig of juice from his bottle. “Could you be misreading it?”
Lisa stopped pacing for a moment, reflecting, reviewing it in her head like a video playback. “N
o... they're very alone, it's desolate, unbearably hot, hostile...” she was staring off into the darkness again. And despite the heat in her vision she shivered. “How soon before we get home, Jack?”
Jack the man, her brother, wanted to tell her they would break for home now, make a beeline for the Terran system. But Jack the Admiral; knew that was an impossibility. There were pros and cons to being an Admiral, this was definitely in the con column. “We're headed that way, but we have a lot to do and a lot of distance to cover...”
“How long?”
“Lisa, we have a job. A big job. Look at the mess we have in this system and how it's slowed us down...”
“How long?”
Jack sighed, “About two-and-a-half months. Maybe more.”
“Fine,” she waved. “The Revenge is fast. I'll take the Revenge and meet you there.”
Jack almost snorted juice through his nose. “You'll do what now?” he sputtered.
“Sure that would work,” she started, “you could get task force business done and we could go home...”
“On what planet,” interrupted Jack, waving his hand “skip that, in what universe did you become a command officer capable of commanding a ship? And where was I when it happened?”
“Don't be an asshole,” she snapped.
“Then stop being irrational,” he replied calmly. “You're letting your emotions run away with you. Get a grip.”
“Give me a shuttle.”
Jack couldn't help but laugh out loud at the absurdity of the idea. “That's like asking for an inner tube and a paddle to circumnavigate the globe. It's ridiculous.”
“We've got to do something.”
“We are doing something, Lisa. But everything has its limits. In our fastest ship, in a direct route, we're six to eight weeks away.” He stood up and stopped her pacing, his hands on her shoulders, “You know as well as I do...” he felt how damp she was and touched her back. “You're soaked. And you're shivering. Go take a hot shower,” he pointed at the bathroom. “I'll find you some fresh PJs.”
“What were you going to say?” she asked padding through Jack's quarters.
“That those things you and mom have are not always present-tense. They're possibilities... what might be.”
“I wish I could say that makes me feel better,” she shouted over the shower's rush of water. The warmth felt good, allowing her tense shivers to melt away as her body relaxed, unclenched. She spent a few minutes just letting the water pound on her muscles.
Stepping out of the shower, pulling a towel off the rack, she wrapping herself up. “Were you able to find something for me to wear? Or do I have to go back to my quarters in a towel?” She patted herself down and threw her wet hair over her shoulder after tucking the oversize towel into a beach wrap. “Jack?” She walked out of the bathroom, through the sleeping area into the salon. “Where'd you go...?”
The old man in the hooded cloak sat on the sofa, legs crossed at the knee, next to Fritz. Gus sat at his feet. “I believe he went to get you some fresh sleepwear my dear,” the old man said softly.
Lisa yelped, stumbling backwards, clutching at her towel, meeting the wall behind her. His presence startled her; she had not seen him in the dimly lit room. “Who are you?!” she demanded angrily, her eyes adjusting to the light.
“Friend,” said Fritz.
“Yeah... well...” she stammered, searching for words. “A warning would have been nice. Dammit.” Strangely, she didn't feel threatened. She wasn't sure what she felt, other than surprised. She tried to slow her heart. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” she said in her sternest voice, forcing calm.
“Aww,” he said in mock disappointment, “you don't remember me...” He pulled his hood back, revealing his lined and weathered face.
Lisa's eyes grew wide and her hand shot over her mouth as she inhaled sharply, pointing at him with her free hand. “You're the man in the forest! On Veloria,” she whispered. “I thought I made you up...”
“No, I'm quite real.” he smiled. He sipped from a snifter of brandy she hadn't noticed a moment before.
“But...” there were so many questions running through her head.
He offered his snifter to her. “Here, take a sip.”
“I, I Don't drink.”
“Just a sip. It's some of the best brandy in the universe. Diterian Brandy. It will calm your nerves. You will like it. I promise.”
Oddly she trusted him completely. Lisa took the glass offered her and sipped. More than once before handing it back, the rich flavor and substantial body of the thick brandy warming her. “Mmm, that is good. Thank you.” She felt a calm radiate through her and wondered if it was the brandy or what he had said, some type of hypnotic suggestion. She knelt on the floor, sitting on her feet, Gus moving to her side.
“No my dear, not hypnosis, just really magical brandy.” He smiled and her heart warmed.
“You read minds,” she observed. “Interesting. I was wondering where you went. On Veloria I mean. I wanted to thank you...”
“I know,” he replied, “I heard you.”
“Why did you leave me?” she asked. “I was totally lost. I had no idea what to do or where to go...”
“You were never alone,” he waved. “There are certain things we have to accomplish on our own in order to grow. And you grew a lot that night. I am very proud of you; you are strong like your brother...”
“You know Jack?”
The old man smiled and nodded, “Jack and I are well acquainted.” He put his feet flat on the floor and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Which brings me to our topic for tonight. Jack has a difficult job with a tremendous amount of responsibility and pressure on his shoulders.” The old man paused to sip the brandy, letting it slide down his throat. “You are his teammate. He needs you, and he needs you to be levelheaded so he can count on you. You cannot let him down. You are one of the very few people in the universe he trusts completely. He respects your opinion, but you need to work with him, not against him. Understand?”
“Sure,” she replied. “But I'm worried about our parents. Can you tell me...”
“I cannot,” he interrupted politely, holding up an open hand. “Anything I tell you could affect any number of decisions you make along the way. The repercussions could cross entire star systems. I assume you understand the Butterfly Effect?”
“Yes.”
“It is exactly for that reason. It could easily change the course of history and the lives of millions of beings for decades, centuries even. It must be what it must be.”
“There are certain things we have to do on our own...” she muttered.
“Exactly right,” he confirmed, rising from his seat. “Well, I've taken up enough of your time.” He bent down and kissed her on top of her head.
“Wait, what's your name?”
“Voorlak,” he replied, pulling the hood back over his head. “Jack likes to call me Old Man, when he thinks he's being irreverent.”
“Does that bother you?”
“No. It does accurately describe me, after all.” His form seemed to shift, changing transparency, perhaps changing planes of reality as he passed through the outer wall of the hull, disappearing completely.
“Whoa,” she breathed, “that's wicked cool.”
The door swished open, Jack carrying fresh pajamas. “Here you go kiddo,” he muttered, tossing them to her as he passed, heading back to bed.
“Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“I'm gonna sleep here, OK?”
“D'you snore?” he asked, flopping onto the bed.
“No.”
“Fine. Sleep wherever you want.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
“Mm-hmm.”
■ ■ ■
The Conquest's senior staff was huddled around the holo-chart in the Admiral's office, the commanders of the Westwind and Revenge on vid-com, sitting in on the conference from the Captain's ready room of their own ships. A close
-up of the Gedhepp System floated over the table, the task force holding station on the far edge of the asteroid field facing the gate to Rikovik's Reef.
It had been a long process, the ships slowly forging ahead through the asteroid field, either nudging aside the smaller chunks with their shields like an ice breaker ship through frozen water, or decimating larger asteroids with ship's guns. A full size version of the asteroid video game Jack remembered playing at the arcade as a kid. Thinking back on that made the corners of his mouth curl a little, almost imperceptibly.
“Between the information fed to us from the patrol and shuttle pilots,” began Captain Ryan, “and the information astrometrics and cartography discovered, we have determined that this field of what we've been calling asteroids is actually the remains of a planet in this system. Whether it broke apart on its own or it was impacted by something catastrophic, we don't know. If cartography is right, it is the remains of a planet in the fifth orbit from the sun.”
“And we're passing through what would be the fourth, aren't we?” asked Jack.
“Correct. Astrometrics estimates the rock field extends from the fourth orbit to the sixth.”
“My God, It's going to affect two other planets...”
“Correct. Fortunately they are uninhabited. It is apparent that their orbits have not carried them through so far. And the field is orbiting as well, but far slower than the orbit of the planet it used to be.”
“It's going to be a real mess when they do,” said Jack. “Things will be pinballing all over the system.”
“Pinballing?”
“Bouncing,” clarified Jack. “This stuff is going to scatter all over the place. The UFW may have to close or restrict access to the system. How soon before the closest planet makes contact?”
“About seventy days for the planet in the fourth orbit, about three hundred days for the sixth planet. The fourth planet is rather small, it may not survive its full orbit. The sixth planet will sustain damage but nothing to cause its destruction.”
Wings of Steele: Revenge and Retribution Page 11
