Trooper Down

by Jim Laughter

  “We have to get a message out,” Stan called. “D.I. Stoddard says the only comm unit is in the main control room of the ship.”

  “But that’s badly exposed. I guess we’ll just have to tunnel back under that part of the ship.”

  Before the two could move, the fire from the enemy intensified, causing both men to duck deeper into their foxhole. A fellow Trainee on their left cried out in pain as a heavy heat ray caught him a glancing blow. Stan reached over to help the wounded man, sneaking a peek over the brim.

  “Watch it guys!” he shouted as he dropped back down. “Here they come!”

  In seconds, hundreds of hideous Red-tail invaders charged the Trainee position. Forgotten were their blasters as the battle escalated to hand-to-claw.

  Delmar lost sight of his friends. In their place his universe became one of slashing, clawing monsters. One managed to knock his weapons away just as Stan cried out. Armed with only his bare hands, he tried desperately to fight his way to the aid of his friend.

  Pushing forward like a man possessed, Delmar ignored the wounds being inflicted on his body and fought against the overwhelming tide of leathery red creatures.

  A hand reached out of nowhere and grabbed his shoulder. Try as he might, he couldn’t wrench free of the superhuman grip. He continued to lash out blindly. Everything turned two dimensional and began to fade into a fog.

  Delmar opened his eyes to find himself looking into the concerned face of Doctor Murphy.

  “Del!” the doctor said, shaking the young man. “Son! Wake up! You’re having a nightmare!”

  Delmar stopped thrashing. Doctor Murphy released his grip on his shoulder. He sat up and tried to catch the wisps of the dream as they faded into oblivion. He blinked several times and then looked at Doctor Murphy with a blank expression.

  “It’s gone,” he said. “I was having some sort of dream about fighting. There were these hideous monster things. It was terrible! And now it’s gone.”

  “Well, don’t worry about it, son,” the doctor said, patting Delmar gently on his arm. “If you try too hard to remember, it only hinders the process.”

  “But that’s the third time this week,” Delmar protested. “It’s driving me crazy not being able to remember large parts of my life.”

  “What always helps me is to get my mind on something else,” Doctor Murphy replied. “Get out of here today and go do something interesting. It always works for me.”

  ∞∞∞

  The village elders had been in council ever since the three braves returned from the cave. They had considered the effect this discovery would have on their people. Life had been hard for them since time immemorial. Further hardships resulted when the settlers had moved into their area, pushing the tribes into a barely marginal existence. Anything that might change or improve their lot was a matter of great importance.

  That the thing in the cave was an artificial device was certain. Close examination of its surface showed that it was very similar to other devices built by the settlers. One brave thought it might be a variation of the great steam iron horses seen crossing the plain on two thin iron rails. Wisps of vapor escaping from the bottom of the thing seemed to lend credence to this suggestion.

  The unexpected appearance of the apparition in the cave without prior activity was also puzzling. The box canyon was well known to the hunters of the village and none had seen the thing built or brought in. One morning it was not there, that afternoon it was. No sign of any wagons were seen around the cave, so it had not come in that way. The only evidence of activity had been a single set of booted tracks leading out of the cave.

  “What shall we do about it?” the youngest elder asked.

  “It must have come from the settlers,” another offered. “But why did they leave it there?”

  The eldest raised his hands to end the discussion.

  “Perhaps it’s some terrible weapon the settlers have brought here to destroy us,” another conjectured.

  “I don’t think so,” the eldest answered. “It would appear to me that an opportunity has presented itself to us.”

  “How can this be an opportunity?” someone asked. “Its strangeness speaks of danger.”

  “It occurs to me that since the settlers are interested in things that they make, they may be interested in this as well.”

  “What are you saying?” the youngest finally asked.

  “That we make images of this thing like we have of the iron horses,” the eldest answered. “The settlers seem to be pleased to give us much trade for our work.”

  Experience had taught the tribesmen that the settlers would part with their money for a woven or carved likeness of common items. The wooden models of the steam locomotives had proven especially popular. The income from that alone had carried the tribe through the recent winter.

  “It makes good sense,” the second elder agreed. “Such an income would help our people.”

  “Send for the master weaver and master carver,” the eldest instructed. “We must discuss this thing with them and seek their wisdom.”

  Intense discussion of the project occurred after the masters had joined the elders in council. It was agreed that an opportunity to help generate income for the tribe had presented itself. The best basket weavers and carvers of the tribe would visit the cave and take measure of the thing.

  ∞∞∞

  The morning was still young when Delmar stepped into the now familiar hanger. Abby’s skyflyer appeared a little more assembled than when he had last seen it.

  “Abby?” he called when he didn’t see her at first. A yelp from under the tail alerted him to her location.

  “Good morning,” she said as she crawled out. Delmar noticed that there was already grease on her coveralls. “You startled me.”

  “Sorry.”

  “What brings you down here so early?” Abby asked, wiping her hands on a rag.

  “Oh, I had some free time on my hands and thought you could probably use a little help.”

  “Help is always welcome,” she agreed with a smile. “But I hope you don’t mind getting dirty. I hoped to install the engine today.”

  “Dirty doesn’t bother me if it’s interesting,” Delmar answered. “And getting your engine installed should present no problems.”

  He walked over and examined the crude power plant.

  “I haven’t had time to rig up the hoist yet,” Abby said as she joined him.

  “A hoist wouldn’t help that much anyway,” Delmar said, sizing up the situation. “If you can start the mounting bolts, I can lift it up there.”

  “You can?” Abby asked, surprised at his boast of strength.

  In answer, Delmar turned around and grabbed the engine. With a grunt, he lifted it off of the bench and raised it easily over his head, then slowly lowered it back down to the bench. When he looked over at Abby again, he noticed her astonished expression.

  “Don’t just stand there with your mouth hanging open,” Delmar said with a grin. “We’ve got an engine to install.”

  Three hours later, Delmar and Abby stepped back to view the fruit of their efforts. Mounting the engine had proven the least of their worries. Then came the onerous task of hooking up all of the necessary controls and instrumentation. The variable spark the engine used had baffled Delmar at first until Abby explained the mechanics of it.

  The most daunting task was the installation and adjustment of all the various flying wires. Delmar was amazed that it took so many wires to hold two simple wings in place on the bi-flyer. Abby patiently explained each wire as they went through the process. Then she referred to the bird test.

  “What’s a bird test?”

  “It’s really quite simple,” Abby said with a smile. “You turn a bird loose inside the area between the wings. If it’s able to escape, you forgot to install one of the wires.”

  Before long they were standing outside the hanger looking back at the aircraft.

  “That’s quite a collection of wire
, fabric, and spit,” Delmar said.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” Abby asked with a sigh.

  Delmar glanced at the contraption and then the late afternoon weather.

  “When are you taking it up?” he asked. “There’s still light and the wind is calm.”

  “Tomorrow morning when there’s a breeze down the field to help with the take-off.”

  “Mind if I come to watch?”

  “I was hoping you would,” Abby replied, looking at him. “And then I was going to offer to take you up.”

  ∞∞∞

  The mood over dinner was anything but cheerful. Stan and Leatha sat at their accustomed table in the mess. When they’d nearly finished, Stan broke the strained silence.

  “What’s the word on Aurora?”

  “They say she should be flight-ready the day after tomorrow,” Leatha answered. “I double-checked the work and found it better than I expected.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Stan said. “I was worried they’d hurt your baby.”

  “You underestimate the shipyard crew,” Leatha countered defensively. “Since the mothership disaster, workmanship has improved even more.”

  “I don’t blame them. Although I don’t think the final analysis will show any mechanical problems. This was caused by sloth and human error.”

  “Morale among the other captains is suffering too,” Leatha offered. “If a conclusion isn’t forthcoming soon, there’s going to be trouble.”

  “Do you mean mutiny?”

  “No,” Leatha said carefully. “Just that the trust factor we’ve all come to expect will be greatly affected. No one wants to serve in a system that treats its people as expendable.”

  “What other news is there?” Stan asked.

  “I heard from Jake via Ert,” Leatha said. “Delmar’s memorial service is planned for a week from yesterday.”

  She watched while Stan digested this news. He’d lost his best friend, but she didn’t believe he’d ever fully accepted it. Now the news of a memorial service only made it real. She wondered if the man she loved would ever be able to face the fact that his friend was gone.

  “That means if Aurora is ready, we’ll arrive the day before the service,” Stan finally said. “What about your mentoring?”

  “That’s already taken care of. Ert offered to substitute for me until I feel ready to take her on.”

  “That’s considerate of him.”

  “I know,” Leatha agreed. “He’s also going to forward anything to us about the final investigation of what happened to the mothership. I think he wants an accounting as well.”

  Stan stood and stretched a kink out of his back.

  “I’ve had enough for one night. See you tomorrow.”

  He turned abruptly and walked away, forgetting to kiss his fiancé goodnight. Leatha watched Stan’s hurried exit, a cloud of unspoken grief hanging over him.

  ∞∞∞

  At the appointed time, Melissa logged onto the computer net and typed ERT as she had been instructed. Moments later her screen cleared and text appeared.

  GOOD MORNING, MELISSA, Ert replied. ARE YOU READY TO BEGIN TODAY’S SESSION?

  I THOUGHT I WOULD BE MEETING MY NEW MENTOR TODAY.

  UNFORTUNATELY, SHE’S STILL DETAINED WITH THE FAMILY EMERGENCY, Ert responded. ONE OF HER VERY CLOSE FRIENDS WAS KILLED BY RED-TAILS AND THEY’RE PREPARING FOR THE MEMORIAL SERVICE. THEY WERE ALMOST LIKE BROTHER AND SISTER. SHE AND HER FIANCE’ WILL BE TRAVELING TO ERDINATA AS SOON AS HER SHIP IS READY.

  I’M SORRY TO HEAR THAT, Melissa entered. PLEASE CONVEY MY SYMPATHY.

  I SHALL, Ert replied. AS A RESULT OF THIS UNFORTUNATE CRISIS, I WILL BE TUTORING YOU FOR A WHILE.

  WOULD IT BE IMPOLITE TO ASK HOW HER FRIEND WAS KILLED?

  NO, Ert answered. HER FRIEND WAS ALSO MY FRIEND. WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM WAS PREVENTABLE. TELLING IT CAN HELP OTHER TRAGEDIES FROM HAPPENING.

  WHAT DO YOU MEAN? HOW WAS IT PREVENTABLE?

  ALTHOUGH THE FINAL INVESTIGATION IS STILL IN PROGRESS, IT’S EASY TO DRAW SOME PRELIMINARY CONCLUSIONS, Ert answered. THE MOTHERSHIP DELMAR, OUR FRIEND, WAS ASSIGNED TO WAS CAUGHT UNPREPARED FOR THE RED-TAIL ATTACK BECAUSE OF POOR AND SELF-SERVING DECISIONS ON THE PART OF ITS COMMANDER.

  AND THIS FRIEND WAS KILLED AS A RESULT OF THAT, RIGHT?

  THAT’S CORRECT, Ert printed. HIS SHIP WAS ASSIGNED TO THE MOTHERSHIP AND HAD ONLY ARRIVED THE DAY BEFORE THE ATTACK.

  THAT’S AWFUL! CAN YOU TELL ME MORE ABOUT YOUR FRIEND?

  I’D BE GLAD TO, Ert replied. HIS STORY HELPS ILLUSTRATE SEVERAL IMPORTANT ASPECTS OF THE AXIA, SO CONSIDER THIS YOUR LESSON FOR TODAY.

  ∞∞∞

  “You look like the cat that ate the canary,” Doctor Murphy said as he ladled soup into his bowl. “What did you do today?”

  “I followed your advice and got busy doing something else,” Delmar answered.

  He crumbled a handful of crackers into his soup and stirred them in to the thick broth.

  “I went down to the airpark and helped Abby assemble her skyflyer.”

  “Is she really going to try to fly that crazy thing?” the doctor asked.

  “She is,” Delmar said, carefully taking a bite of the hot soup. “We got it all ready before I left.”

  “Well, I just hope she knows what she’s doing,” Doctor Murphy said with a shake of his head. “Because if she doesn’t, I’m the one that will have to patch her back together.”

  “I’m confident she can fly it,” Delmar said as he prepared to take another bite. “Her knowledge about the craft is quite extensive.”

  “It should be,” the doctor answered. “She’s hung around that airpark since it opened. Just like her brother.”

  “I didn’t know she had a brother,” Delmar said, surprised at this new piece of information. Abby had not said anything to him about having a brother.

  “He was killed in a crash last year.”

  “What happened? Did his skyflyer crash?”

  “No, he never flew it,” the doctor said. “In fact, the one you have been helping build was his first.”

  “What happened?” Delmar asked, all the more puzzled.

  “He was killed when another flyer crashed on top of him,” Doctor Murphy answered. “Poor guy was just working out in old Mrs. Johnson’s cabbage patch. He never knew what hit him.”

  Doctor Murphy watched a vacant expression cross Delmar’s face.

  “You all right, boy?”

  “What? Oh yeah. I think so,” Delmar answered. “It’s just that I got a sudden empty feeling.”

  “Did you remember something?”

  Delmar tried to recall the image that had flashed momentarily through his mind. What was it he had seen in that brief moment?

  “Not exactly,” Delmar answered, still puzzled by the fleeting images. “Just something you said, I guess.”

  “What did I say?” Doctor Murphy asked, trying to draw out Delmar’s memory.

  Delmar pressed his mind to remember the exact words Doctor Murphy had spoken. But like the fog that had blanketed him so often these past several days, it still hid his memories from him.

  “I don’t know,” Delmar said. “Guess it wasn’t important.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Establish perimeter,” the mothership commander ordered from his command chair.

  The comm officer sent out the signal to the other ships. Small spaceships moved into position, protecting the large mothership.

  “Perimeter shell established,” the comm officer reported. “Picket ships moving into position now.”

  “Acknowledged. Set stationary stabilizers.”

  The ship engineer activated the tractor rays that held the mothership in a stationary position near a particular asteroid.

  “Ship is now locked,” the pilot said. “All readings stable.”

  “Acknowledged. Summon the scout captains to briefing room seven.”

  As the comm officer put the call out over the ship intercom, the commander glanced
around the large control room.

  I’ve got a good ship here.

  After receiving acknowledgement that his order had been issued, he headed aft to the briefing room. He was confident that nothing would catch this crew off guard.

  Since arriving on station to assume command of Sector 2046-W, formerly patrolled by the ill-fated mothership, the commander awaited the day when the retrieval ships would depart and he would receive final orders for his ship to assume patrol duties.

  Already his crew had high marks in efficiency, and each of them knew that had they arrived a week earlier, they would have been on station for the attack instead of their unfortunate comrades. However, if the rumors were true and the other ship commander had indeed withdrawn his defensive umbrella, he wouldn’t have made the same mistake and been caught by surprise.

  Anticipating the new assignment, he encouraged his section chiefs to tighten procedures even more. Since that time, drills had been more frequent, morale was up, and the commander had a right to feel proud of the troopers serving under him.

  Entering the briefing room, he was pleased to see it full of scout captains. Their anticipation of this briefing of the senior staff and alert crews was infectious. He knew his pilots and staff were ready for their new assignment.

  “Before I begin, I want to commend each of you on the reports I’ve been receiving of your preparedness,” the commander said. “It’s always encouraging to serve with people who take their jobs seriously.”

  Someone in the back of the room began to clap and it spread quickly throughout the room. After a moment, the room quieted.

  “We all know about the destroyed mothership,” the commander continued. “The latest I’ve heard from the investigation is that it was due to poor leadership and sloth. Rest assured that it won’t happen while I’m in command of this ship.”

  The commander paused and sensed the mood. The apprehension of the scout captains was to be expected, but there was an undercurrent of trust still strongly present.

  “We’ve managed to piece together the search logs of the previous ships,” he continued. “But unfortunately there were some serious gaps in their efforts. Your mission will be to fill in the gaps and thoroughly explore this sector. Each of you have already received your assignments and everything we have on each section.”