The Eons-Lost Orphan

by Laer Carroll

  <>

  Jane's time at the Academy was nearing its close. She went to the last tango party at the Colorado Springs dance studio three Saturdays before leaving the Academy as a second lieutenant in the Air Force, a sad occasion for her. She'd made a number of tango friends.

  At midnight at the party she exchanged her dance shoes for walking shoes from her large purse. She drew a light sweater over her shimmery red dress which went to just below her knees, stood, said a few last goodbyes, and went out into the cool night air. There waiting for her should be her usual Flyt ride back to the base.

  Robot went to high alert and it and Jane merged. Her usual driver was not piloting the sedan waiting for her.

  "Hi, there," the JANE cyborg said, leaning to speak in the front passenger-side window. "You here for Jane Kuznetsov?"

  "Yes. You're headed for the Academy?"

  "Yes." SHE got in the back seat. Interesting developments were afoot.

  HER ride pulled away from the curb and headed toward the exit from the big parking lot which the studio shared with a dozen businesses. Most of them were closed at midnight but not the big supermarket of a Colorado chain.

  The car stopped at the exit onto north-south Centennial Boulevard. The driver looked both ways before entering the six-lane street.

  On the nearby sidewalk a pedestrian suddenly took several quick steps to close on the sedan. He jerked open the rear passenger door and jumped in, pushing JANE sideways to the opposite side of the seat. He pointed a long-barreled gun at her head.

  The car jerked forward and entered the boulevard as the man said, "Make a sound and I'll kill you."

  The cyborg remained silent as SHE jerked her hands up in a surrender gesture. SHE was not good at controlling her face but HER actions satisfied the gunman.

  They drove a couple of miles south then turned right into a suburban neighborhood of nice homes. Two blocks further they turned into a dead end of several two-story homes. They drove into a driveway and entered and parked inside a garage.

  The gunman got out, gesturing with the gun for her to get out also. The driver exited and entered the house from within the garage. JANE was prodded to follow. They went down a hall and into a living room. There was a third man there who sat in an easy chair beside a couch which, with a second easy chair, made a U-shaped conversation nook.

  The gunman pushed JANE to sit on the couch and sat in the second easy chair. He set his gun on the side table separating the chair from the couch. The third man spoke.

  "Ms. Kuznetsov. Sorry for the extreme invitation, but we need some information from you. Give it to us and we'll let you out in the desert where you can walk back to civilization within a day. Resist and, I'm sorry, we'll have to persuade you. Why don't you save us all trouble and begin now?"

  "Yes, I'll do anything. Please don't hurt me."

  JANE was annoyed that SHE could not imitate fear. SHE'd have to practice showing emotion while in HER cyborg state.

  "What we need to know is how to duplicate the space jet process. We'll record it on this phone."

  "Oh, is that all? I have it on my SuperSmart phone. Here--" He blocked HER hand when SHE made to reach into HER purse. The gunman reached into the purse instead.

  Taking out the phone he powered it on and pulled HER nearest hand up to press HER thumb against the screen. The phone chimed and lit up.

  The interrogator took the phone and paged through the files.

  "Jackpot. She has the space jet tech AND air-jet stuff."

  He opened the file labeled Space Jet Theory and Practice. He frowned.

  "I can't make heads or tails of this, though it looks real."

  He made a phone call. JANE sent an electronic tentacle after it and embedded a piece of ROBOT in the phone that answered.

  The "client" soon thanked JANE's interrogator for his service and said the second half of their fee was on its way and hung up. JANE sent another tentacle to the offshore bank and embedded another piece of ROBOT in the bank.

  "Well, that's that," the interrogator said. "We've been paid. Let's finish--"

  JANE's metabolism was already going from 20% faster than normal to 200% faster. SHE rolled off the couch and an arm lashed out too fast for humans to even see. It struck the gunman's head and latched on. He was reaching for his gun but froze when Robot took hold of his nervous system.

  JANE rolled on the couch the other way and froze the interrogator who'd been reaching inside his jacket.

  "Boss?" came the voice of the fake Lyft driver who'd gone to the kitchen. "What was that sound?"

  JANE rolled onto her feet and snatched up the gunman's pistol. A glance showed that the safety was off on the silenced .22 long rifle pistol. SHE raced to the doorway to the hallway to the kitchen and fell to a prone position at its entrance, HER head and upper body just around the corner.

  The driver jerked up the pistol at his side. He was fast. But not as fast as a cyborg operating three times as fast as the fastest human alive.

  JANE put a bullet in each eye socket. The man wilted forward and fell. His pistol thudded to the floor beside him.

  JANE went back to 20% faster metabolism and got up. SHE retrieved the dropped pistol. It was a small Glock .357 caliber. SHE returned to where the two frozen men sat.

  "Get up," SHE said. "Sit on the couch with your hands and feet together. Stay there."

  Moving stiffly the two men complied. JANE went over to a standing lamp and jerked its cord out of a socket. Using segments of it SHE bound their wrists and feet together then their wrists to their feet. Even if HER freeze failed they would have a nearly impossible task to free themselves.

  As an afterthought SHE got another lamp cord and tied their throats to the legs of the couch from over the back of the couch. Then she also tied their legs to the couch legs.

  SHE established a link to HER SuperSmart in her purse. SHE flowed into the Internet and did a search. Shortly SHE found it.

  "Hello," a robot answering service said. "Smith and Cortez Florist Shops. Sorry, but we are closed. Please leave a message."

  "I need to order a Valentine's Day Ultra Special."

  "Please wait for a 24-hour operator."

  The robot voice was immediately replaced with a human voice.

  "Details of the order, please."

  "Two grouchy men, one sleepy man, and a young woman. She will meet you at the door."

  "The address?"

  SHE gave it to him then went to wait just inside the front door.

  As SHE stood there SHE used HER phone to tap into the several traffic video cameras nearby and the several residential security cameras. Thus SHE was able to see three vans approach the residence.

  One was on the street behind the house SHE was in. Two pulled up in front of the house.

  One man got out of the lead van. Medium height, thirties, clad in a brown uniform with FLORIST on its back. He came up the sidewalk, to all appearances a bored late-night delivery person. He carried a big floral arrangement in his hands.

  JANE opened the door and stood in it, HER hands out to each side. As he neared the doorway SHE slowly rotated to show that SHE had no weapons easily accessible in the shimmery red knee-length dress with an open back and square bosom.

  The "delivery man" spoke, his words going to the two vans. Out of them several other uniformed men came, each bearing a large floral arrangement, to any watchers more deliveries for, perhaps, a big party the next day.

  As the first neared the doorway JANE moved to face a wall and stood near it, hands now up, as the men entered the house, dropping their flowers to reveal small black submachine pistols. They advanced cautiously into the house.

  Meanwhile the first man stood near her, a silenced revolver in one hand but not trained on HER. (SHE noticed the tradecraft: a silenced automatic pistol would be noisy when its receiver recoiled backward then clashed forward, canceling the advantage of silenced bullets. Silenced revolvers had no such problem.)

  Cryptic messages were e
xchanged as the team cleared the house and the back yard. Finally the lead man told JANE to precede him to the living room.

  Jane dropped out of her cyborg state and did so.

  A couple of men were standing around inside the room, glancing only occasionally at the frozen men on the couch. The leader looked at them closely then turned to Jane.

  "What happened here?"

  "I'm Jane Kuznetsov. I'm a fourth-year cadet at the Academy. I went dancing tonight. As I came out to take my usual Flyt sedan home I noticed suspicious circumstances, a possible kidnap attempt. I got in the car to discover what would happen."

  "That sounds incredibly dangerous and altogether stupid."

  "For anyone else. Not for me. I'd made provisions to protect myself years before when I realized that a rich and famous woman would be a prime target."

  "Go on."

  "At a traffic stop a second man got in and pointed a gun at me, threatening death if I resisted." She pointed at the frozen man who'd done that.

  "They drove me here and that man--" She pointed at the second man. "--threatened me with harm if I didn't give him some information. I gave him a false and in fact very dangerous file purporting to be how to build a space jet."

  "Oh, of course. You're the 'Queen of Space.'"

  "The boss phoned someone else and sent the file to him. That man said it was authentic, that the second half of this man's payment would be sent immediately. When the boss was satisfied that it had been he gave the order to 'finish up.' I waited no longer and took steps to ensure that I was the one finishing up. The results you see here."

  "And in the hallway," said one of the two other agents in the room. "She put two bullets in the driver. One in each eye."

  "He was raising his gun. I didn't have time to incapacitate him as I did these two."

  All three agents looked at Jane as they might a dangerous big jungle cat. The leader moved unobtrusively further from her.

  "What's wrong with these two?"

  "I gave them the electronic equivalent of Rohypnol combined with sodium pentothal or something similar. They will answer all your questions as best they know how. Of course, the information might be wrong and they think it's true. This state will last about a week."

  "Maybe we can find out who hired them."

  "I already know who did that. Or could if I cared. The file the boss sent him infected the payer's phone and every other phone within a hundred feet. You'll find that on the boss's phone. That is it, there on table beside where he sat."

  She nodded her head and the agents glanced at the table. One took a clear plastic evidence baggie from a pocket and scooped the phone into it without touching its surface with the gloves on his hand.

  "The two guns they used are on that table over there. The .22 has had two bullets fired from it."

  "Very well. I think we've got the situation well in hand. I'll take you down to our headquarters where you can give a more detailed report and--"

  "No, you won't. I'm returning to the Academy now and publicly it will be as if none of this happened to me. However, you may contact me any time that my duty allows to further discuss matters."

  "I could arrest you--"

  "Sure you could. Then when your bosses found out they'd can your ass. Think of the publicity if the 'Queen of Space' was arrested for no other reason than refusing to make a report on the night in which she desperately fought for her life. A woman who also is a millionaire well able to hire an entire company of lawyers to sue you and your bosses and the government.

  "Besides, think what a coup you may soon make. Capturing a foreign agent, for that's who surely must have sought this information. And maybe rolling up his entire organization."

  One of his agents said, "Batgirl here has got us there, Lead. We need to move right away to use the anonymous tip we just got or we may lose our chance."

  The leading agent eyed Jane, raised an eyebrow. "Why do I suspect that if I tried to arrest you I might end up like them?" He nodded at the frozen men.

  The agent who'd not yet spoken did so now. "I sure don't want to find out the hard way how an unarmed little woman took out three armed experienced men."

  "Very well, Ms. Anonymous Source. I'll have a driver take you--"

  "Thanks, but there's no need. My ride is here."

  She stood on tiptoe and kissed the leader's cheek, astonishing him.

  "Good luck with your career."

  Then she skipped out, snagging her purse on the way out.

  <>

  "Sorry, I wasn't available earlier, Miss Jane. I had a long drive for a customer who didn't show up."

  "That's all right, Fernando. I got a chance to visit someone."

  "In that house? Looks like they're going to have a party."

  "No. I think next door."

  "Hey, you graduate soon, don't you? I'll miss picking you up."

  "And I'll miss being picked up. Speaking of parties, doesn't your oldest have her Quinceañera soon?"

  <>

  The Academy graduation took place over three days in the week before Memorial Day week in May. Jane had made a reservation for a hotel suite nearly a year in advance for it. Her parents and Natalia stayed there and attended many of the ceremonies.

  During this time Bachelor's degrees were awarded, Jane's with honors as well as a lot of the other not-quite-1000 fourth-year cadets. Other honors were issued. Jane and a good many others were given the four most prestigious honors.

  Marches took place. Speeches were made, entirely too long for the most part. There was a flyover of the Air Force show squadron.

  Jane and other graduates wore a special uniform: white pants, blue jacket, and a wide gold sash. Then the cadets threw their hats in the air and none of them got back the one they'd thrown.

  When it was over Jane and her folks took a private jet home.

  <>

  Two days later she received a phone call which she'd been told would involve a discussion her of her first assignment in the Air Force. This was unusual as most new lieutenants got theirs the day they took the oath upon receiving their commission. But she'd not been surprised.

  The caller suggested they meet in a suite in a Pasadena hotel barely a mile away. She accepted.

  At her knock the door opened and a fit older woman of perhaps fifty years stood there. She was dressed in a blue business dress suit with a lavender blouse. Her dress coat could be seen lying on the back of a couch in the suite's living area.

  "Come in, Ms. Kuznetsov. Have a seat wherever you like."

  Jane chose an easy chair by the couch. The woman sat on the couch itself.

  "You may be curious as to why are meeting today."

  "I know why."

  "You do? Perhaps it isn't that hard to guess. I'm here to discuss your options for service in the Air Force or other organization. There has been practically a shooting war to get you. The Air Force, the Navy, NASA, the Army, even the Coast Guard to my astonishment."

  She smiled.

  Jane said, "I'm in favor of any duty that gets me into space on a regular basis."

  "You've expressed that desire several times, so I'm here to present two offers.

  "One is from NASA, the other is from the Space Force." The original Space Force had been a separate service. However the Air Force had lots of clout and after a few years the Space Force was integrated into the Air Force.

  "I'm a warrior, Ms.--"

  "Carter."

  "--so my guess is that the Space Force is likely a better fit. But I could be wrong."

  "You are. NASA has a branch called Planetary Defense. Its focus is on asteroid and comet near-approaches but it could be argued that defense against hostile Earth forces is within its charter.

  "You would be released from your eight years of Air Force duty to head a section of the PD group. They would provide you a laboratory for whatever studies or programs you chose, a staff, and a generous salary as a senior researcher. Your office would be at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory
here in Pasadena which would be close to your parents."

  "Tempting. But I don't see an obvious path to duty in space."

  "I imagine you could find one. Or several."

  "True."

  "The other offer is duty at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base in Illinois. It's quite large and devoted mostly to research. Two organizations would seem a good fit. One is the National Air and Space Intelligence Center which focuses on foreign aerospace threats. The other is the Air Force Research Laboratory. It has several subdivisions. The ones you might be more interested in are the Propulsions Directorate and the Space Vehicles Directorate.

  "Confidentially the AFRL is a bit desperate for scientific and technical personnel. There aren't enough of them being turned out to satisfy demand, what with industry being able to pay much better and offer more perqs. To get you the Air Force would immediately jump you to first lieutenant."

  "Interesting. I'd hold out for captain though ask for major."

  "I...doubt either of those is possible."

  "Of course they are. I am being factual not grandiose in saying that I'm one of those rare geniuses like Einstein whose work will shape the entire future of the planet. In fact, I've already done so."

  The woman smiled. "So I'll ask them for major and settle for captain? It might work."

  "Let me think." Jane closed her eyes and became Jane+Robot. SHE snaked into the Internet and studied the two organizations the woman had mentioned. Satisfied with what SHE'd learned, SHE turned HER attention to the woman before her and did a few moments of research.

  JANE relaxed back into Jane.

  "I know you're recording our conversation. Please take out your SuperSmart or whatever you're using and turn it off. That's necessary for our further conversation."

  The woman gazed at her for long moments, then complied.

  "Good. Now do the same for your real recording device."

  Her lips compressed, the woman removed the locket around her neck.

  "Good try. I should tell you that I scanned this suite before I came in. Now, please, no more duplicity. The REAL recording device."