“Ah,” he replied without a hint of disappointment. “If you ever come back to Penn State, please look me up, we can have our coffee then.”
“It’s a deal, Professor Pine.” She held her hand out and he shook it. She watched as he walked away leaving her once again alone waiting to give her talk.
A blond woman poked her head through the curtain and asked, “Captain Cook, are you ready?”
Marjorie nodded a yes and then took a deep breath. Her heart raced as if she were about ready to drive the Arwen herself into the sun. She closed her eyes again and tried to picture the bridge of her ship, the same image that had calmed her earlier wasn’t working this time, and she eventually gave up.
The woman introduced Marjorie. “She single handedly destroyed a star base without losing one crew member. She discovered the Gyssyc comet and save the planet of Regal from destruction. She led the assault on Merriam and saved Ulliam from his tyranny. Her bold plan and leadership saved us all from a combined armada of warships who were hell-bent on killing every human and Ulliam in known space. It would take me hours to rattle off all the metals and awards she’s been given over her 35 years of service protecting us from hostel aliens. It is an honor to welcome her to Penn State. Ladies and Gentlemen, Captain Marjorie Cook!”
She parted the curtain and stood there for a moment looking out into the crowd. It was a packed house of about three hundred young people. Lights mounted above blinded her for a moment as she walked up to the podium. The cheering embarrassed and yet thrilled her at the same time. She stood there, nodding her head in acknowledgment and one by one, the audience stood. She continued to smile and waited for them to stop. It seemed to last forever but eventually the cheers subsided, and everything got quiet. She leaned closer to the microphone. “Thank you for coming and thank you that wonderful reception.” She never got used to the echo a large silent room made. Hers was the only voice being heard by the group. She’s made announcements over the speaker of the Arwen but she never had to hear what she sounded like. Her publicist convinced her to take some voice lessons. The only thing it helped her with was getting rid of her slight northeastern accent.
She placed the data pad on the podium. All she needed to do was look at the first line to remember the speech. She talked for a good twenty minutes; each word practiced a hundred times before being perfected through dozens of speaking engagements. As she moved from city to city and from college to college, she thought of more things to add. Her first few speaking engagements were quick. It wasn’t until about the third month in before she noticed that each engagement lasted longer. Her publicist said that was okay, most of the people had paid to hear her talk and the more she gave them the more they could charge.
She finished the way she regularly did by saying in a cheerful voice, “It’s not always a glamorous life out there. Sometimes I get so bored I wonder why I’m there but there are other times, times when I’m looking onto a new world, or facing down a new enemy, that I know I’ve found my place. Maybe one day you’ll find yours too. Thank you. I’ll now open the floor for any questions.”
Marjorie stood there waiting for the people to line up in front of a microphone. The faces were so young she felt a bit guilty for trying to take them away from their lives and into a new, dangerous world, but they were rebuilding and the young men and woman standing before her were the future.
The first question was from a smallish woman who shyly told Marjorie she was her hero and would follow her into the corps. She didn’t really have a question and instead talked about how inspirational Marjorie was. When she was finished Marjorie said, “Thank you dear, I hope to see you in the fleet when you graduate.”
Marjorie noticed the next man a few moments earlier and had hoped he wouldn’t have time to ask any questions. He held in his left hand a data-pad which he held up as if wanting her to see what was on the tiny screen. He had the look of a denier, the self-proclaimed group of people who questioned pretty much everything the Corps did. She tried not to stereotype the man but most deniers she knew, or had read about, wore the same kinds of clothes. Black shirt, black jeans with a white, logo less, baseball cap on his head, turned backwards of course. She suspected it was a conscience attempt of the deniers to form a collective and this look was their uniform. Marjorie braced herself and knew she was about to be asked a question she would have to dance around to answer. He cleared his throat and held up the data pad. “Is it true that we haven’t been told everything about the ‘impending destruction’ of Ulliam? That the planet is in more dire straits than we have been led to believe and, instead of it plunging into the sun in a hundred standard years, it will plunge into the sun in less than twenty?”
Marjorie cleared her throat and replied the way she did every time she was asked this question. “When Ulliam’s moon was destroyed during the war it caused an unpredictable chain reaction. Our first calculation said it would take a few thousand years, then that was reduced to a few hundred once we understood the orbital changes better. It wouldn’t surprise me if you found a different figure or a different timetable. It seems most scientist have a theory and a different timetable for Ulliam’s destruction. However, the official Corps estimate is about four hundred and twenty three standard years.”
The reply seemed to surprise him. Marjorie quickly tagged him as an amateur, someone who probably read all the literature, maybe even attended a few meetings, but never actually had to confront someone of authority. They briefed her on these kinds of zealots. The best way to appease them was to tell them the truth, or at least a version of the truth that was Corps approved.
He looked at his data pad. The person behind him tapped him on his shoulder trying nicely to tell to him to move. The man held his hand up and said, “Where do you get your information? The Corps? Your supervisors? How do I know you’re not just toting the message like a good soldier?”
“I get all my information from Professor Theo Ricter, the lead scientist of finding a way to stabilize Ulliam’s orbit. He works very closely with both Ulliam and Gyssyc professionals.”
If there was one thing no one could argue against it was Professor Theo Ricter’s word. He’d gained a reputation for telling the truth no matter how bad the news was. He had no allegiance to anyone other than himself. He didn’t care nor worry about what others thought of him and his ideas. He was a man known for his integrity. He was also Captain Cook’s most trusted friend. It was a relationship well known to everyone, apparently even to this man because all he did was nod and walk away.
She answered questions for the next hour before no one had anything else to ask. She once again thanked everyone, bowed, saluted, and then left the stage. Exhaustion overcame her when she disappeared behind the curtain. She had to lean against a table to catch her breath. It was always like that when she finished, as if all the nervous energy she had bottled up during the talking released itself all at once.
*****
Marjorie always loved taking the maglift train. She looked out the window lost in her thoughts. Now that most of the world's foods was grown on farms in orbit the landscapes around the cities opened up for massive expansion. With a growing population, aliens’ moving to Earth and the human lifespan averaging 120 years space was at a premium. She wasn’t even close to large city and yet she could easily see large steel towers that housed thousands of people along with all the basic facilities that allowed them to live. It was only half a joke when someone would say you could live your entire life in one of those buildings and have all your needs taken care of. Marjorie had never lived on one but she did visit a few when she was younger. The memories were mostly pleasant, spending time with her grandparents, but a few weren’t so great and she shook those memories from her mind.
Her data-pad beeped. It was stuck inside the pocket of her uniform and she struggled to pull it out. When she looked at the message she smiled. It was from Professor Ricter. She hadn’t heard from him in over six months. Her smile faded when she realized he w
as probably contacting her to ask her for a favor. That seemed to be how their friendship worked after he was assigned to the Ulliam Moon project. She opened the message and his scowling face appeared on the screen. She noticed he looked older and bit heavier. His face had a fullness to it she hadn’t ever seen. Had he given up working out? She knew he studied some martial arts in his spare time and would try to run at least a mile every morning. His hair was also a thinner and grey. It was impeccably styled and looked good but there was definite some thinning that wasn’t there the last time she saw him. He had on a very nice and probably expensive suit and tie. On his lapel he wore one of the civilian metals he had won after the Gyssyc war. She recognized it was from the Ulliam government.
He looked up at the camera and started speaking. “A few weeks ago while doing a sweep of the sky we detected a powerful magnetic pulse. At first, we thought it was from a star but when we studied the evidence we discovered it was from a planet. After some further scanning we discovered this might be the planet we’re looking for. It’s got the right density, the right size and is too close to the parent star to sustain any life. Of course, our instruments can’t tell us all we need to know so we need to get to that planet to study it. I’m asking permission to take the Arwen and since haven’t refused my past requests I’m going to assume you won’t refuse this one.”
She sat back and laid the data-pad on her lap. The Professor always requested the Arwen for his trips and the Corps always let him borrow it. The higher ups knew about her relationship with him and they knew about his relationship with most other Captains. She was the only one who got along with him so it was natural they would pair them up whenever he requested it.
Her data-pad beeped again. She looked at it, saw who the message was from and shook her head. She opened the message and a different looking Professor Ricter appeared on the screen. He was wearing a lab coat this time and his face wasn’t nearly as serious. His hair wasn’t as grey as it was before and she wondered if he dyed it. His face, however, was even fuller than the last message. “Marjorie, I’m sure you got the message I sent the Corps. I sent that a few months ago, not knowing the Arwen was in dry dock being upgraded. They were going to give me another ship but I declined and decided to wait for the Arwen. As I’m sure you know, breaking in a new Captain is hard and very time consuming.”
Marjorie rolled her eyes and laughed at the remark. It was a very old, private joke between the two of them. He’d made it a hundred times and yet it still made her laugh when he said it. He continued. “The good news is that extra time gave me a chance to study the planet further. Our first reports suggested it was too close to the parent star to support any life; however, as more data came in it appears the planet is cooler than we first thought. We also detected a massive ocean, so large the entire planet might actually be covered in water. Warm planet plus lots of water could equal life, so we need to bring a biologist along with us. Normally, I wouldn’t even bother to tell you who is on my team, but you’d want to know that I chose Doctor Fran Lipton to accompany me.”
Marjorie paused the message. Of course he’d pick Fran; she was very good at what she did and the Professor worked with her many times in the past. But, she and Fran had a long history that was defined by a single moment; the moment Captain Cook ordered Kel, her former second in command before being promoted to Captain, and Fran’s husband, into a battle he had no chance of winning. It needed to be done. She needed his ship to provide cover for the Arwen while she attacked the Gyssyc ship. It wasn’t just him that she ordered to their deaths; it was a few dozen captains. Fran blamed the Captain for his death. It would be difficult to see her again.
She turned the message back on and let him continue. “As always, I look forward catching up with your adventures. I’ve seen you on the net a few times, mostly as a consultant with a few interviews here and there, and I have to say, you look good. One day we’ll have to be on the same panel discussing our mutual exploits but, until then, we’ll have to keep those conversations private. Also, I know your birthday will have passed by the time you get here so I’ll be sure to have a nice gift waiting when you arrive. I’m looking forward to see you again Marjorie.” The image faded leaving behind an icon filled desktop screen.
My birthday, Marjorie thought. God, I forgot about my birthday. 56 years old, old enough to retire, old enough to start a second career. She shook her head and closed her eyes. No, this was going to be her one and only job; fate had seen to that.
******
The adventures of the Arwen continue with The Arwen Book 2: Manifest Destiny.
Thank you for reading The Arwen. If you’d like more information about me, please go to www.timothypcallahan.com, click the E-mail me link to send me a message.
-Timothy P. Callahan
The Arwen Book one: Defender Page 34
