Rescue Branch (Kinsella Universe)

by Gina Marie Wylie

  “You heard that the Rescue Branch is defunct?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now we have the ‘Solar Patrol.’ I’m winding up the last of the Rescue Branch’s affairs and I’ll be the Patrol’s deputy CO.”

  “And me, sir?”

  “The morons on the ground are going to bear constant watching. They wanted to transfer you to the Port force and make you an instructor. I told them it would happen over my dead body; they pretty much ignored me. Admiral Kinsella had the better argument -- she told them it would happen over their dead bodies. They believed her. Admiral Kinsella decreed that Fleet will have a ‘Corps of Professors,’ taken from serving Aloft officers. Congratulations, Professor Cooper.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “It’s too serious not to be serious. Our largest obstacle remains lack of space skills among those whose fondest desire is to go to space. Admiral Kinsella told Commander Jacobsen that when she gets back she’s going to be heading up an ‘Office of Instruction’ to go with her ‘Corps of Professors.’ Steph wants a course of instruction that can be spread through the major universities in ‘space-faring science.’”

  “Admiral Kinsella always has a plan, sir.”

  “Indeed she does! Most of us have a fall-back ‘Plan B’ if things get out of hand. I’ve seen Steph have to fall back on what would have been a desperate ‘Plan B’ for me. For her it didn’t look like a Plan B... it looked like a perfectly reasonable, carefully designed and well thought out plan.

  “You have a week of medical leave -- that’s what we give as standard for people who have been in space as long as you have been. Swimming is best, although we recommend a hotel swimming pool at first. Take long walks.”

  “What will I be doing after my leave?”

  “You know what you’ll be doing after your leave. Admiral Delgado has a full commander working on your training schedule. You are going to go hither and yon, to show people how to save lives. Admiral Delgado, Admiral Kinsella and little ol’ me, think there is no more important task just now in the Fleet.

  “Relax, adjust, adapt... overcome. You are going to have an entourage whose duty is to hang on your every word. They have already had an orientation on the equipment. Use them as demonstrators. They are all space qualified -- but haven’t had to use their knowledge. Teach them, Lieutenant!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I forgot! I’m so bad! You’ve been promoted to senior lieutenant.”

  “Me?”

  “Before you start questioning our wisdom, Lieutenant, you should know both Admiral Kinsella and myself advanced the thesis that you’d be more effective as a lieutenant commander.”

  “I don’t even have two years service!”

  “Indeed; Delgado thinks I’m trying to back door my own promotion to flag rank. A year before we launched Ad Astra Steph was outraged that she outranked me. Honestly, I’ve never felt superior to Steph, not since the first few days after I met her.

  “You will report to Admiral Delgado’s office after your leave. He tells me he has some additional words of encouragement for you. He will direct you to Commander Vecchio -- we’ve made it very clear to the commander that the only authority he has here is deciding the sequence and timing of your schedule. I’ll say it and Admiral Delgado will repeat it: for the time being you are working under the auspices of the Admiral commanding the Solar Patrol -- not Commander Vecchio. You aren’t to try to contradict him, just let me know; I’ll fix it.

  “Don’t tell Admiral Kinsella. Vecchio is an adequate officer -- he doesn’t deserve being assigned to the snowball detail on Pluto if he messes up... which is what will happen if he irritates Admiral Kinsella.

  “Two months or so from now, you’ll be assigned to the ‘Aloft’ part of the Fleet -- that’s going to be our name for now for the part that goes out among the stars. Commander Jacobsen is going to be the Chief Engineer of the Southern Cross, the Australian ship scheduled to be completed by then. It will be an interesting trip, I’m sure. About 90% of the exploration to date has been of northern sky objects. We should be equal opportunity explorers.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, at a loss for anything else to say.

  “A week from Monday, see Admiral Delgado. Have a nice leave, Lieutenant.”

  Her visit home was the first time since the Christmas before she graduated from the Academy. Her father picked right up on her on-going weakness from having lived in zero-gravity so long.

  “Are you all right, Becks?”

  She shrugged. “I was in the Rescue Branch. I’ve been in space for four months.”

  “Where were you assigned?” her oldest brother asked. Only two of her brothers had been able to get leave on short notice.

  “The Rescue Branch. We went where we were needed. I helped install a nuclear reactor on a ship beyond the orbit of Saturn; I’ve taught rescue techniques out by Jupiter and in the inner belt.”

  “Couldn’t you have told us?” her mother asked.

  She looked her father in the eye. “Dad, I was in the Rescue Branch. Until I helped rescue the passengers of the Miracle at Orleans, more members of the Rescue Branch died than we rescued people. I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “That ship you said, the French ship. I heard it was lost with all hands,” her brother said.

  She grimaced. “Staying alive in space takes paying attention to detail. That captain was a fool. He could have taken his ship back to Earth safely. He elected to repeat the same error that had malfed his ship the first time.”

  “Malfed?” her father asked.

  “A malf is the Rescue Branch term for a malfunction. ‘Malfunction’ seemed to be too sterile a word to use for blowing a 6 billion Euro spaceship to atoms -- which is what we think happened to Miracle at Orleans.”

  She looked at her family contritely. “You’re right though, I haven’t kept in touch. There have been a lot of changes in my life in the last few months.”

  “Tell me that you’re not part of this ‘Rescue Branch’ any more,” her mother said.

  “No one is part of the Rescue Branch anymore. It’s been disbanded, and all of its assets went to what is now called the ‘Solar Patrol.’ We now have some ships dedicated as ‘patrol vessels’ which are going to be responsible for taking care of things like that. The Fleet wants to spread the experience around, not concentrate it in a few people.”

  “Tell me you’re not doing that,” her mother insisted.

  “Mom, I’m not doing that. A month or so ago I participated in a rescue on the asteroid Psyche, where there’s a habitat run by Taiwan. They’d just finished one ship and were about to start on another. The project manager was hit with a structural member, crushing her leg.”

  “That’s tough,” her other brother said.

  “Brother, it was in vacuum. If her suit had ruptured she’d have been dead in seconds.” She glanced at her mother. “I have to say this, and you’re right to be upset at me.”

  She turned back to the others. “Raspberry jelly saved her life and sealed the leak, well enough for me to get there.”

  Her mother blinked, “Raspberry jelly?”

  Becky’s father patted her gently on the shoulder. “You don’t want to know, dear, believe me.”

  “And if I do?”

  “Like Becky said, if you ask again I’ll tell you. I apologize in advance.”

  “What?”

  “Her leg was crushed to jelly, Mom. Raspberry jelly.” Becky said. Her mother paled but said nothing further.

  “I got there. I had the equipment to save her. I used it; I saved her life.” She swallowed. “We’re going to be married in a few months.”

  Her father grimaced. “I hope she’s a Navy chief’s dream: sexy and her father owns a bar.”

  “Wasn’t that on short acquaintance?” her mother asked acidly.

  “Not that short; I already knew her. There is nothing like the fear of imminent death to shorten relationship timelines.”

  “You sa
id she was a project manager?” her father said.

  “This time. The first time she was Admiral Kinsella’s assistant -- she was the one who actually built and tested Ad Astra. I flew on one of the test flights.”

  “I’m not sure my heart can take any more surprises,” her father told her. “There aren’t, are there?”

  “I’ll be spending the next couple of months teaching rescue techniques. Then, I’ll have served my penance. After that I’ll be assigned into Southern Cross and going out to the stars.”

  “As what?” her father asked.

  “It’s nuclear powered. I was, and remain, a qualified nuclear power engineer. As a senior lieutenant, I’ll probably have a watch.”

  “And the woman you’re going to marry?” her father inquired.

  “She lost a leg a few weeks ago. She’s going to be a while recovering, no matter how indomitable her spirit is. We’ll be married by then.”

  “And she’s okay with that?” her mother asked.

  “She tells me that she aims to misbehave as a patient; she doesn’t want me catching any of the flack. She’ll be back to a 100% before I get back.”

  “Rebecca, you know we love you, and while you don’t always do what we want or expect, I have no idea how things work in gay marriages. Are you the husband or the bride?” her father asked. “The different families have different responsibilities in a wedding.”

  “Anna hinted at it, but you’re right I should ask. But I’m sure your only responsibilities in this are to come give me away.”

  “Who’s going to pay for the wedding?” her father persisted.

  She sighed. “You might as well get used to it. Anna Sanchez has built two starships, and has contracts to build two more. When she was hurt, you wouldn’t believe who came to see her. Not in the days after, but the same day. There is nothing you’re going to have to do but watch.”

  “What do you mean? Who came?” her oldest brother asked.

  “I was there; I had trouble believing it too. The least important people? Admiral Delgado and Admiral Kinsella. Captain Gilly, my boss, was lucky to find a place at the table.”

  “There were others?” her father asked.

  “The President of the US, the President of Taiwan, the Prime Minister of Israel, the Prime Minister of France -- I think he was there to see me, not there about Anna -- the Prime Minister of Australia, and the heads of the two main off-world habitats -- the Aft Trojans and Psyche. They are both independent these days, and are the same diplomatic level as any other President or Prime Minister.”

  Her mother focused on her daughter. “The President of France was there to see you?” she asked incredulously.

  “Mom, if you don’t want to hear about raspberry jelly, you definitely do not want to hear about Miracle at Orleans. In the end we were deliberately rude, trying to get thrown off the ship. Eagle, the guy in charge at the Aft Trojans succeeded and we had to leave. Two weeks later, they killed themselves. All of them. I don’t think the French understand why we hold them in such contempt. Sarkozy wanted to give me a medal not for bravery, but competency.

  “The brass was too polite to laugh in his face, but there was no way I was going to accept a medal for doing my job.” She looked her father in the eye. “I’m not stupid and I’ve done nothing heroic. I’ve been nominated for no medals and never intend to be.”

  She was surprised by how hard her father hugged her. Well, she wasn’t a scrawny teenager any more and she hugged back.

  The conversation that evening was more mundane, catching up on family and friends and events in the neighborhood. Finally Becky pled fatigue and retired to her old room.

  Later there was a soft knock on the door and she found it was her father.

  “Becks, I have to know. Are you being careful out there? I can’t believe the Prime Minister of France came to see you just because you did your job competently.”

  Becky sighed. “I probably can’t get the President to tell you that’s why he was there. I can get a full captain and a four star admiral to tell you that’s why he came.”

  “There has to be more,” he said stubbornly.

  “Dad, the Rescue Branch head, myself and a chief were all that we sent to help that French ship. Captain Gilly organized the rescue of some thirteen thousand French citizens, losing only one in the process -- and he was executed for attempted rape. The chief and I were there to install a new reactor. The French took their own sweet time getting anyone out there to help.

  “They kicked us off the ship -- and let me tell you we couldn’t get off fast enough. Nonetheless, we never dreamed they would kill themselves. There was another month or two of work to get that reactor up and running, tested and ready to go. They had it online in two weeks. We’ll probably never know if it was a reactor accident that killed them or more trouble with their fans. They could have come back on low fan -- which we were confident would work. They could have been towed back. They did something stupid and another two hundred and twenty-five people are gone.

  “They didn’t know anything about space. The feeling was that they were going to kill most of their passengers. And they simply didn’t care. They were Paris gutter sweepings and they simply didn’t care if those people lived or died. The French tossed out the morons who tried to kill so many of their citizens and brought back Sarkozy.”

  “It still doesn’t seem reasonable.”

  Beck sighed. “Dad, I’ve seen newspapers. They use ‘glass half full/glass half empty descriptions of space.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She swallowed and looked him in they eye. “The papers don’t hide what’s happening out there; they just minimize it. Nine of ten people adapt to space.”

  “I’ve read that,” he replied.

  “I studied military history at the Academy. Dad, an army that takes 10% casualties isn’t much good any more.”

  He stared at her. “Ouch! That got right by me.”

  “Dad, the people in space are the bravest people the human race has ever known. From the janitor that empties wastebaskets, to the guy who runs things. The truth? All they care about is if you know your job and that you can do it. They take bravery for granted.

  “Anna and I made bad jokes while I worked to save her life. She could have died any second. It was all she could do -- I was the one who had to do the job right. We offended a new chum doctor up from Earth. He’s a good man, but didn’t understand things quite yet. Just being there takes all the courage in the universe. Being able to work there is icing on the cake.”

  She looked at him steadily for a few moments. “You spent most of your career at sea. You were a chief bosun; I’m pretty sure that there were times that you had to work when it was all on the line. Did you expect to get a medal?”

  “No. Becks... I don’t know what to say. It’s really that bad?”

  “Dad, I was part of an exercise paired with an Air Force captain. He was as close to me as you are. He panicked; completely lost it. I kept my head and as one of the instructors told me afterwards, ‘I made my mistakes only once.’ That’s a hell of a passing criteria. I didn’t feel brave, I didn’t feel competent. Yet I passed and he got a medical retirement.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” he repeated.

  She walked over to her dresser and picked up a tiny piece of enameled metal. “Catch,” she said, and gently tossed it. He fielded it about an inch off the floor as the toss was too soft and looked at it.

  “RB,” he stated. “Rescue Branch?”

  “Admiral Kinsella doesn’t think mission patches are right. She thought pins were better. Once you earn one, you get to keep wearing it. There is a ship pin for Ad Astra -- everyone wants to earn that one. Rescue Branch is the only other pin right now. Now we’re disbanded. Officially I’m in the ‘Corps of Professors.’ I’m going to teach spacemanship. Some of that will be on Earth -- mostly not.”

  “So, you’ll be safe?”

  “Admiral Delgado apologized to me for
leaving so soon at Psyche. One percent of new people are killed or injured on their first day. Those presidents and prime ministers had security details that demanded they leave as quickly as possible.”

  “Good grief!”

  “Try to explain to Mom that you are all invited to the wedding -- but it’s going to be on Psyche. Expect to meet a lot of important people, because out there Anna is important. I will understand if some of you don’t come and understand if you don’t stay long.”

  “That’s a little cold.”

  “Dad, if you want to come out there, you’d be welcome. Your odds are good. Chief Pettigrew, who was with us on the Orleans, said it best. ‘God! I’m back to being a boot!’ Think that and you’ll be ahead of the game.”

  He stared at her. “You’re silent about your mother and brothers.”

  “Mom isn’t likely to be part of the ten percent. She is careful and cautious -- important survival characteristics in space. My brothers -- Dad, they are self-confident. Cocky, even. Dad, the single biggest reason people get in trouble is they start assuming they know things they don’t really know.”

  “So you’re not really safe out there,” he said.

  “Dad, no one is ever safe out there. You make your bed as best as you can and hope you can sleep in it. We’re learning. We’re coming to terms with what we face out there -- but there are still a lot of ways to die that we didn’t anticipate. My friend Eagle says he thinks it will take three years before a person is really comfortable in space. He and his wife Kat were two of the first people out there. He says maybe in another year he’ll stop waking up, surprised to still be alive.”

  “How do you stay alive?”

  “Luck, attention to detail, experience, common sense. Space isn’t like on Earth. The crane operator who screwed up and clipped Anna was screaming a warning. Dad, you can hear things like that on Earth. In vacuum, you can’t hear anything that’s not on the radio. They were on different frequencies and she never heard a thing.”

  As if to make a mockery of her, her phone chimed from the dresser. As people had done for a couple of decades, Becky stood and moved to pick up, saying the not-very-ancient mantra -- “They promised not to call me here.”