“Aye, Cap. As the big guy just said, count on it.”
The Storm’s drive was winding up and Billy strode up the gangway. He turned and nodded and, as the gangway retracted, the back hatch began to slowly close.
“Wait … wait!”
Jason turned to see Orion running. “Wait a second!” In three long strides she was at the shuttle’s rear hatch. She leapt into the cabin and threw her arms around Billy’s neck, then planted a kiss on his lips that took him by surprise. Not that he was complaining. The couple had been having problems for months—neither one giving an inch. Whatever their problems were about Jason wasn’t completely sure, since neither Billy or Orion would talk about it. What was perfectly clear, to anyone who observed the twosome, was that they were crazy in love with each other. Billy pulled Orion in close, and the kiss extended to the point Jason was embarrassed watching them. He was forced to turn his eyes away.
Finally, Orion pulled away but she continued to look steadily into Billy’s eyes. “You come back to me.”
That was all she said, before jumping back down to the flight deck and joining Jason’s side. Together, they watched the Storm’s rear hatch close and the vessel lift off the deck. With a small burst from the propulsion system, the Storm headed for the bay opening and then was gone—swallowed up in the blackness of space.
* * *
They walked together down the Parcical’s Deck 4 corridor and stopped outside the entrance to the bridge.
“What now, Cap?” Orion asked. “I don’t mean to stoke the flames here, but the problem with the Sahhrain isn’t going away. With the huge loss of assets taken here in the Dacci system, we’re in serious deep shit.”
Jason had been thinking about nothing else since the Storm left the flight bay. Even rounding up additional help from the Alliance, there still wouldn’t be a way to hold off an attack by the Sahhrain. He was in a state of disbelief that so many enemy warships had been built in such a short span of time.
“Tell me something, Gunny: How are the Sahhrain crewing those vessels, since their home planet is smaller than Earth? I seriously doubt I would be able to enlist a crew for that many vessels, and those Vastma-class ships are enormous. Nope, they must have fashioned a crew from other resources somehow. Dig into that, okay? Find out who’s joined forces with the Sahhrain.”
“I can do that, Cap. We haven’t taken a good look at that remaining wreckage in space yet and that may tell us something.” Orion continued to study Jason then asked, “What? What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking we need a damn miracle. A week from now we’ll be facing the largest combatant force since the Craing Empire. Maybe worse.” Jason chewed the inside of his lip as a bizarre thought began to take shape in his mind. It was crazy and impossible, even ridiculous. He looked at Orion with a more optimistic expression. “We need to alter the playing field.”
“Captain?”
“We need to alter the playing field and, even more importantly, the players. Tell me, Gunny, whose fleet would you least want to go up against in battle?”
“Well the Sahhrain aren’t looking too shabby right now. Other than them … the Caldurians without question. Their technology … forget about it … they’d be impossible …”
“Exactly!” Jason said. “I want to meet with them one on one. As soon as possible.”
“Good luck … even Granger has lost contact with the Caldurians. They’re in another realm somewhere in the multiverse.”
“I think I know just the person who could help us … although … I’m sure he doesn’t know it.” Jason hurried into the bridge. “Helm, call up an interchange wormhole. We need to get back to the Sol System … fast!”
Chapter 4
Sol System
Planet Earth, Central Valley Scrapyard, San Bernardino, CA
__________________________
In a flash, Jason and Dira phase-shifted behind the modern, ranch-style home.
“You’re sure you didn’t want to let him know we’re coming first? Seems kind of rude to just drop in on him like this.” She wore a bemused expression.
“No, it’s fine. It’s as much my home as it is his, anyway. His house was destroyed years ago. This house is newer—Nan and I built it. Well, mostly Nan did, I guess. Anyway, that’s what happens when you leave your family for several decades, without sending so much as a birthday or Christmas card. Hell, we all thought he was dead.” Jason raised the visor on his helmet.
Dira shrugged and he watched her eyes register some new information, probably coming across her HUD. With her visor up, she was as beautiful as the day they’d first met, seven years ago. She blinked several times and he wondered if her ultra-long eyelashes actually touched the inside of her visor, and if that bothered her? She noticed him staring and made an expression back that asked, what?
“You haven’t aged.”
She smiled. “You’re right … I haven’t.”
“I don’t understand. How …?”
“The same way the original crew on board The Lilly hasn’t. Take a look at Captain Perkins, or Orion, or even your father, for that matter.”
It was true. They all looked pretty much the same as they had years earlier; whereas, he and the kids and Nan had all aged normally in appearance. “I don’t get it.”
Dira said, “The basic science behind why people age is that each time a cell divides, a little bit of the telomere—at the very tip of the chromosome … is lost, shortening it. Telomeres of young cells are longer than the telomeres of middle-aged cells, which, in turn, are longer than the telomeres of old cells. When the telomeres become really short, a cell can no longer divide and it dies … thus the signs of aging occur. You’ll have to talk to Ricket about the more technical aspects. The way I understand it, the first time one undergoes the full MediPod treatment … you know, where all those nanites are infused into one’s physiology and nano-devices are implanted into our craniums … the chromosomal shorting process is dramatically curtailed … almost completely. The thing is, there’s a MediPod setting that allows beings to either age normally … you know, progressively … or maintain, instead, their current age almost indefinitely. At least the way one physically looks and feels.”
Jason thought about that. His own face, reflected back at him in the mirror each morning, showed small crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes and a recent peppering of gray was starting to show in his thick hair.
“I wouldn’t worry about it. You’re more handsome now than when I first met you,” she said, looking unsure where his questions were leading.
“So you’re what … still twenty-nine?”
“I guess, in appearance,” she said defensively.
“Why did the settings change … on the MediPods?”
“I imagine because of Mollie. When she was shot, with that plasma bolt to the heart, what was she? Eight? Ricket probably didn’t want her, such a young kid, to remain eight forever, right? I’m sure he changed the settings so she’d experience normal age progression. Since that setting is not easy to access maybe it just got left that way.”
“Maybe I should, you know, change my—”
“It honestly doesn’t matter to me. As I said, you’re a pretty good-looking guy. I’ll love you, whatever age you are.”
“Uh huh … ten years from now I’ll be well into my fifties and you’ll still look and be twenty-nine.”
Dira pursed her lips and slowly nodded. “Maybe we should have a talk with Ricket when we get back … Grandpa.”
Jason let the subject drop, for now. He turned and took in the house—its oversized windows overlooked the scrapyard. He could smell chlorine, coming from the pool just out of sight on the upper level of the yard—outside the house’s big rear windows.
“You damn piece of shit! Get in there!”
Jason and Dira looked questioningly at each other then out at the sprawling scrapyard. Somewhere out there, in the milieu of rusted-out old Chevys, Ford Econovans, and piles of chrome h
ubcaps, was Jason’s father.
“I think he’s in the shed. Come with me.” Jason headed down the cement path and Dira quickly caught up. He glanced at her, noting she’d retracted her battle suit and was wearing typical Earth clothes, which was rare for her. Her faded jeans hugged her small hips and long legs, while her pink T-shirt was loose, yet somehow accentuated her breasts in a way Jason found completely distracting.
He retracted his own suit, exposing Levi’s and a plaid work shirt.
Dira looked around the property. “Been a while since I’ve been here. I remember thinking, hanging out here the first time, that you sure knew how to impress a gal.”
“Only the lucky ones,” he answered, giving her a crooked smile. They reached the old shed and found the corrugated, sheet metal door closed; grunting sounds could be heard inside.
Jason smiled and, with no hesitation, knocked on the door.
“What the hell? Who’s there?” The door banged open and Jason had to jump back to avoid getting struck.
“Admiral Perry Reynolds, I presume?” Jason grinned at him.
The admiral’s craggy face, streaked with grime and grease, stared first at Jason then at Dira. His scowl softened and a warm smile pulled his lips wide. “I thought you were Madeline.”
“Madeline?” Dira asked, stepping in to give him a hug.
“A widow. Lives down the street. Skinny … all elbows and kneecaps. Nice enough, I guess, and definitely persistent.”
Jason gave his father a hug too, but the reference to Madeline made him think of his own mother. A mother he’d never really known.
“So what … you can’t call first?” the admiral asked.
Dira gave Jason a smug, all-knowing, look.
“We can just as easily phase-shift back to the Parcical. I’m sure you’re very busy down here,” Jason said, glancing into the shed. He saw a forty-year-old, disemboweled transmission sitting out on the workbench. “Turbo-hydramatic 400?”
The admiral glanced at it. “Piece of shit. Don’t know why I even bother trying to fix the damn thing.” He stepped back into the shed and reached for a rag, lying on the bench, and wiped the grease from his hands. “You here for a while? I can throw some steaks on the grill tonight. Got lots of beer.”
“Maybe for a day or so.” Jason then added, “I’ve got some questions I’d like to throw your way … and a request.”
“No, I’m not going back into space.”
“We’ll talk about that later, maybe. I honestly do have some questions for you that are important. Very important.”
The admiral, noting the seriousness in his son’s eyes, said, “Okay. Let me get cleaned up first. You know where the kitchen is.”
* * *
Dira and Jason sat at the edge of the pool, their bare feet dangling in the warm water. The sun had slid behind the distant San Bernardino foothills and the bright, orangey-pink sky gave everything a warm amberish glow. Even the scrapyard beyond them looked more enticing.
“Maybe later we can take a dip together,” Dira said, pulling at the top of her T-shirt, causing the thin material to pull tighter across her breasts. “Maybe … what do you humans call it? Go skinny-dipping?”
The admiral cleared his throat as he emerged from the house. “I’m not disturbing anything out here, am I?” He sounded like he didn’t really care, even if he had.
Jason looked at him. The admiral wore shorts and an over-sized T-shirt that had South Side Biker Saloon printed across its front. Two sketched bottles of tequila—their bottlenecks crossed—were placed beneath the words. Noticing his father’s freshly shaved cheeks, Jason scrutinized his face. He was pushing seventy now and didn’t look it. Not by a long shot.
Using his hand to swipe at his nose, his father asked, “What? I’ve got a booger hanging out of my nose, or something?”
“No … I just noticed you haven’t aged.”
Dira said, “Admiral, only now has Jason become aware of the fact that none of us … the original crew … have aged. We’ve remained the same, appearance-wise, as we looked decades ago. He’s bothered by that.”
The admiral laughed and stood somewhat taller. “I look fifty-two … with eyes of blue. You’ll look older than me in a year or two.” He laughed again, singing the same little ditty several times before retreating back into the house, shuffling and doing a little dance.
“I think your dad’s glad you’re here,” Dira said.
Two minutes later, he reappeared, carrying three uncooked steaks on a platter.
“T-bones okay with you two?”
They both nodded and rose. Dira went into the house and Jason moved to his father’s side at the open grill. “Dad, I need your help, perhaps more now than ever before. I know you’ve been out of the loop for a while … don’t know what’s happening—”
The admiral held up a hand, his good-humored expression gone. “I know exactly what’s going on in space. You think I’m daft?”
“No, I just—”
“I know about the Sahhrain and the mess back in Dacci space. I also know that a fleet like nothing we’ve ever seen before is on its way to the Sol System.”
Jason said, “Good. That will save us some time. And Boomer, Mollie, and Rom Dasticon?”
He shook his head. “What’s happened to my grandkids?”
“They’re fine … I think. But if we ever want to see them again, and if we want to fend off the approaching fleet, we’re going to need some help. The kind of help that’s not here.”
“Here?”
“Here … in this realm. I need to talk to you about the Caldurians and the multiverse. I think you need to tell me about the early days. About Mom … why you left us so suddenly in the mid-1990s leaving no trace. And when you first found The Lilly. Everything. We need to return to the Parcical as soon as possible … tomorrow morning, at the very latest … but I’ve never heard the whole story. Knowing it just might help us get our girls back. Look … we have more than enough Caldurian vessels, such as the Minian and Parcical … that can venture into the multiverse … by way of that multiverse way station. But how do you actually know where to go … how to find a specific realm or world within a realm?”
“And you think I know the answers to all that?
“Probably more than you realize.”
“It’s a long story. Why do you want to dredge up the damn past? Maybe it’s better to not rehash old events. I’m not particularly proud of some of my early decisions …”
“Because it’s important.”
“Well, then I hope you don’t plan on going to bed anytime soon. It’s a long story … one that began well before The Lilly was discovered over there,” he gestured toward the scrapyard, in the direction of an old school bus and a faded-red, wing-tailed Cadillac, off in the distance.
Chapter 5
Sol System
Planet Earth, Central Valley Scrapyard, San Bernardino, CA
__________________________
Dira brought out a stack of dinner plates, along with silverware and paper napkins, and placed them on the table. She looked over at the two men but kept quiet, instead grabbing up several empty bottles of beer before heading back into the kitchen.
Several glowing embers lazily floated away in the air. Ruby-red briquettes, their outer corners turned an ashy-gray, blazed hot under the metal grill. The warm, southern California evening air temp had comfortably dropped a few degrees. The admiral and Jason, both pleasantly tipsy after several brews, stood and listened to the charcoal fire hissing before them. Lighting, coming off the swimming pool, reflected moving patterns of aqua-blue across the rear wall of the house.
Both men stared up at the stars. Jason broke the silence.
“There’s more to it. Had to be a lot more to it,” Jason said.
The admiral didn’t reply, his concentration focused on flipping a steak over on the grill.
Jason continued, “I’ve had a lot of time to think about things … what you did and didn’t do deca
des ago. Like what would prompt a husband and father to simply abandon his … life, like you did?”
The admiral poked another steak with his long fork.
“Want to know what I came up with?” Jason asked.
“Sure.”
“Fury … anger … hatred … getting retribution; such things could drive a man to do something like that.”
Finally, the admiral stopped what he was doing and looked at his son. He didn’t disagree with Jason—he didn’t have to. Jason read it in his eyes. He’d nailed it!
Again, Jason continued, “It was the Craing … had to be. Your first encounter with them wasn’t in space, when you and Ricket resurrected The Lilly, was it?”
The admiral’s face fell. Sadness overtook him and his shoulders physically sagged. He breathed as if his chest was held within a vise.
“I think you see me as a competent man, a leader. Perhaps even a great leader.”
“Of course I do, Dad, no one ever sees anything less. You’ve proven yourself more times than I can count. Shit, the planet’s probably still spinning because of your leadership during the Craing War.”
The admiral’s eyes grew cold and Jason watched the tendons in his neck tighten and his jaw muscles clench. In a sudden display of rage, his dad stabbed the long, two-pronged fork down into another steak. Fire flared up as hot juices splattered onto the red-hot coals. His eyes turned to Jason. “You want the fucking story … the real fucking story?”
“I do.”
“It’s not pretty and the man you know as your father … didn’t exist twenty years ago. He was weak and manipulated into doing something terrible.”
“Manipulated by whom?”
“Who else … the fucking Craing! I still hate them, and I always will.”
“Twenty years ago? How would the Craing …” Jason’s words fell away.
Glory for Sea and Space (Star Watch Book 4) Page 3
