by Ben Winston
After checking the time, Greg asked Abraxis to see if the American President had a few minutes for him. It was early morning in Washington D.C. but not obscenely so. He expected to catch the President at breakfast. What he got was Wilma wearing a housecoat with the Lincoln bedroom behind her. Greg briefly wondered why she wasn't in the Presidential bedroom, but really it was none of his business.
"It's good to finally see you, Commander. Before we proceed, this is in the nature of a personal call, could you temporarily suspend your simulcast?" the President asked.
Greg nodded to her, but spoke to the room. "Abraxis, Privacy record mode please," When Abraxis acknowledged the order Greg smiled at the woman. "We're alone now, Wilma. Good Morning by the way, and I'm sorry I got you out of bed."
Smiling, she shook her head. "Don't worry about it, we weren't asleep and Sherry knows I've been worried about you."
Greg raised an eyebrow, it had been rumored of course, but no one had ever been able to confirm that the President's longtime aide was actually her wife. Wilma hadn't even batted an eye at confirming it for him.
"Governor Hollister tells me that you've been trying to reach me. I apologize for you getting the run-around, but today is the first day I've really been allowed visitors. Since my next surgery isn't for a couple more days, I thought I'd see what you might need," Greg replied.
"Look Greg, I know we didn't get off on good terms. That couldn't have been helped. The political situation down here is volatile enough as it is." She sighed and shook her head. "Look I'm not the President right now, okay?"
Greg was a little confused, what happened to the cast-iron bitch he knew to be the President?
"Okay, what's wrong?" Greg asked.
"Unofficially and totally off the record, how badly were you really hurt?" Wilma asked.
Greg considered her question for a moment. "The only thing left out of the report was that I shouldn't have survived to make it to the Medical Center on Harclen, and that I'm paralyzed from the waist down. We do have the technology to repair this kind of damage, but in my case there were some pretty nasty extenuating circumstances. My prognosis for full recovery isn't very good, but I'm not accepting that. I will walk again, and I will pilot a sled again." Greg looked down and sighed. "I'll be a father eventually too."
Wilma sucked in a breath. "Greg we had no idea it was that bad. Look, I'm at my term limit anyway, so I do have a little bit of freedom. I can't do anything officially, Congress would string me up by my tits, but is there anything you need? Anyone you might need that I can sneak up to you?"
Greg looked at her in confusion. "Please forgive me for being suspicious, Wilma, but what's with the about face? This isn't like you."
Wilma nodded. "Yeah, and you have every right to be suspicious. Hell, I probably would have hung up by now if our roles were reversed. The truth is, there is nothing we can do down here to stop you. I knew that from the beginning, but we had to be seen to try. After I read the real reports you referred to at our first meeting it finally occurred to me what was really going on. Fuckin' conspiracy nuts have most of it right! The only function my administration serves is as a figure head for the country. It's the intelligence services that really run things, and they are controlled by the global conglomerates. The whole damn planet is under their control, Greg!"
"Easy Wilma, relax. Try to keep it together, Okay?" Greg replied, wondering if Wilma was getting mentally unstable.
She nodded and sighed. "You're right, I'm sorry. I know I sounded like a nut job myself there for a moment. But, Greg, it's the truth. Be careful of which corporations you and Carl start working with; I don't know all the players yet, but I can tell you that they want what you have, and they will do anything it takes to get it.
"One of the things you keep touting on your website is that the people have the power to change the government. That's not true. The whole election process is nothing but smoke and mirrors set up to appease the people. Most of us have no real power, it is our job to make sure the people think the changes they want are being made, when it really has nothing to do with them anymore.
"Greg, if we could do it, I'd ask you to come and get Sherry and me. Maybe after I get out of office, but I don't think they'll let us go. I am still having a hard time believing that three small fighter craft are all it takes to defend the planet though."
"It's more of a doctrine thing, Wilma. The hypersled was the pinnacle of Alliance weapons research. It was so good at what it was designed for, that even fleets of larger warships stood little to no chance against even three of them. At that point, both the Alliance and the Drellians quit building huge expensive fleets that could be easily destroyed by three small, single person craft. The Alliance and the Empire both fell shortly after that, and the balance has remained that way ever since. Currently, the Rangers and the hypersleds are the only viable weapons that work, and Rangers are extremely rare,” Greg explained.
"If they're that rare, what are you creating an Alliance for? Shouldn't you be concentrating on finding more Rangers?" Wilma asked.
"Oh, that's being done too, but the Alliance we are forming is more for support and mutual assistance," Greg replied.
"Wait, if you're injured and can't fly right now, who's defending the planet?" Wilma asked.
"There are other human Rangers, Wilma. Earth is still very much defended. Not to mention that we have been expanding our defensive weapons systems and a few other things. We won't leave anyone undefended if there is anything we can do about it," Greg replied.
"This is going to put me in a very difficult position. Personally, I support you and your efforts, Greg. But the President and the Commander have to remain enemies. I'll help you as much as I can, but officially, I'll have to do everything in my power to capture your technology and get you under control," Wilma said. "I called because I wanted to reassure myself that you were actually still alive."
Greg smiled at her. "I appreciate that, Wilma. As for the rest, I'll have to think about it. The Alliance is still pretty new, and while I might have been given carte blanche in building our military, I still don't think it would be a good idea to rock the boat too much."
"I'd heard you got a promotion; congratulations. What was that being you have as a second?" Wilma asked.
"Her name is Delion and she is the Harclen Ranger Fighter. Her people evolved from felines pretty much like we evolved from primates. While still curious to a fault, they are very peaceful people. They have a matriarchal society and have a corporate democracy for a government. She's really nice, but also a very competent leader," Greg explained. "I think you'd like her."
"Perhaps I'll meet her someday," Wilma said sadly.
"You never know what the future may hold Wilma," Greg replied.
"Call us back and let us know how you’re doing, okay?" Wilma said. "Off-hours of course."
When Greg had Abraxis play the recording later for Jarad, Lionel and Carl. All three of them looked troubled.
"Although not conclusive, I did not detect any deception on the part of the President," Abraxis replied. "However, I did detect a high amount of anxiety."
"Yeah, something has her rattled, that is for sure," Lionel said.
"She either got a look behind the curtain, or she thinks she did," Jarad replied. "If she did really get a look at reality, her days are numbered."
"Would they really kill her over that?" Greg asked.
Jarad nodded. "What do you think happened to President Kennedy in the nineteen-sixties? Both he and Khrushchev figured out the truth. Khrushchev agreed to play along, and JFK didn't. Since that time, elected Presidents have either already been a part of it, or were kept from discovering it. It sounds like Wilma stumbled across something she shouldn't have."
"Well, if she doesn't say anything publicly, she should be fine, right?" Greg asked. "Besides, I think I'm the only other person she's told."
Jarad snorted, "What, and you believe there is such a thing as a private telephone conversation?
Especially when one end of it is in the White House?" he shook his head. "No, if they don't kill her outright, then they'll discredit her completely. Based on her anxiety levels over this, they could easily have her committed based on her 'paranoid delusions'."
Greg looked thoughtful for a minute. "Jarad, I want you to take a sled down there and inject both Wilma and her wife with tracking devices."
"If it's an order, I'll do it, but can I ask why you're concerned about her? In the grand scheme of things, she's not worth the risk," Jarad replied.
"Risk? Two people are going to be murdered or worse for no good reason, and we have the opportunity to prevent it. If we do nothing, we are no better than the people that kill them," Greg said. "I wouldn't care if it was John Q. Citizen from East Podunk, I would be asking you to do the same thing. I'd do this myself, but…"
Jarad looked at him for a minute. "You're a good man, Greg. I'll take care of it tonight."
"In the meantime, Abraxis, can you spare the processing cycles to monitor this situation?" Lionel asked. "It would be good to know how quickly this situation is going to be acted upon."
"There are a couple of projects that I can suspend for a short time. Dr. Jon Grien will have your own AI units finished soon, and they should relieve some of the burden," Abraxis replied.
"Thank you Abraxis," Greg said. "When did Jon get his Doctorate?"
"Actually, just before we left Earth. He was attending classes over the computer system, and had submitted his dissertation just before you arrived on the scene. Although he would normally have had to defend it, it was awarded to him while Prometheus was under siege by the government," Carl explained. "I'd say it was well earned."
Greg could only agree. "I'll have to remember to congratulate him next time I see him. I'm really surprised Bella didn't tell me."
"Don't be too hard on her, you guys have been kind of busy since you got here," Jarad replied grinning. "Speaking of busy, has Mandi been up to see you since we got back?"
Greg shook his head. "No, I do know she got involved with some project Delion's Fixer had been working on. I figured she was just busy."
"That's really unlike her. Before we left for Harclen to come get you, she was ready to fight anyone that told her she couldn't go. She saw you once right after we got there and has been pretty much ignoring you since. Did you two have a fight?" Jarad asked.
Greg shook his head. "Not that I'm aware of. We were on great terms before we left for the Harclen mission and she was the one that clued me in on how the girls felt about me. Honestly, Dad, I have no idea what's going on with her."
"Well, with the extended hours Sharon and I have been keeping lately, we have been neglecting you kids. Maybe we should go see her and make sure she's okay?" Jarad asked himself.
"I wouldn't call it neglecting us, after all, we're all adults now, right?" Greg asked, smiling. "But, I'm sure she would be happy to see you guys."
Jarad gave him a sidelong look. "If we haven't been neglecting you, then how did we not know about your relationship with Bella and Jolene?"
Greg blushed. "Well, we were trying to keep a lid on it. Other than the three of us, the only other people that knew where Mandi and Abraxis."
"I think you will find a great deal more tolerance in this society than if we were still on Earth," Carl said. "I will admit it shocked me to learn of it, but I honestly can't see as how it's really any of my business. After thinking on it, the reason I was shocked is because I still remember Bella and Jolene as young girls I've held on my lap like grandchildren."
Lionel chuckled. "I'm working on it, Dad! I just haven't found the right girl yet. I am kind of envious of you though Greg, you found two of them!"
"Was I as blind as he is?" Greg asked his Dad.
Jarad shook his head. "No, you were worse. You completely missed Mandi's interest in you, and you had to be shown the path to Bella and Jolene. Lionel's just being bullheaded."
"What do you mean?" Lionel asked. "What am I not seeing?"
"More like refusing to look, I'd say!" Carl replied smiling.
"Two words, Lionel; Lieutenant Mays," Greg said.
Lionel looked a little surprised. "I think you guys might have gotten the wrong idea; Emma isn't, uh, we kinda let the rumors about us develop to help protect her career. Trust me here, she isn't really interested in me."
"You might want to rethink that, Lionel," Greg said. "Because she's still acting, and there is no longer a reason for it."
"Of course, if you don't have those feeling for her that's another thing, but you haven't stopped acting either," Jarad said.
Carl picked up the phone and asked his assistant to call Florence.
"Hi Flo, it's Carl. Say, I was wondering if I could make reservations for the private room tonight?" Carl asked.
"Dad…" Lionel said in a warning voice.
"Really? Excellent! It's for my son Lionel and a lady-friend. They need to have a discussion, and I thought I'd see what I could do to help them along. Just put the whole meal on my bill okay?" Carl asked.
Lionel shook his head and sighed. "Dad…"
"Okay, seven PM! Got it. Thanks Flo!" Carl said and ended the call.
Greg chuckled. "Look at it this way, Lionel. If nothing else, you get a free meal with a pretty woman!"
Experimental Lab Complex
Grimaldi Ridge Base
Ocean of Storms
Selene, Earth's Moon
Jarad and Sharon wandered through the maze-like warrens of laboratories and offices. Mandi had a small lab in here somewhere, but there was no definite map that outlined who was in what lab. Jarad finally had to resort to asking for Abraxis' help.
"Abraxis, this place is a maze. Can you help us find Mandi's Lab?"
The couple were standing by a wall, near an intersection, and Jarad honestly didn't know which way to go.
"Certainly, Fighter. You just passed it. Go back down the hallway you just traversed and it's the first door on your right," Abraxis replied.
"Someone really should make a map of this place. How do the scientists even find their labs?" Jarad asked. Sharon just chuckled at him.
He looked at her grinning. "You didn't know either, miss high and might pilot!"
"Actually I did, I was waiting for you to ask me," Sharon replied.
"Okay smarty-pants, how do we get out of here?" Jarad asked calling her bluff.
She pointed back down the hall. "Go to the tee-intersection and take a left. The exit is the only door to the right,"
Jarad gave a well-worn sigh and rang the admittance chime.
The door slid open, granting them entry into a bright, clean lab. They heard a "Back here, but stay to the left side of the lab." call from the rear corner of the big room.
They walked to the back along the left side of the lab, and Mandi smiled when she saw her parents. "Great! Perfect timing! Dad, please take this tennis ball," she handed him a tennis ball. "And walk down to the other end of the lab. When I tell you to, toss the ball through the hoop and into the small basket, okay?" She demonstrated by tossing another ball into a basket through another ring she had set up at beside her.
"Uh, sure peanut." Jarad said and walked off.
"Is this what you've been working on so hard?" Sharon asked.
"Yep, I'd tell you what it is, but it'll be much easier to show you," she said putting a heavy glove on her left hand. "Ready Dad?"
"Yeah, lemme know when," Jarad called back.
With her right hand she typed a command into her terminal and hit the enter button. The ring beside her lit up with cobalt blue lights all around it. She grinned. "Okay Dad!"
At the other end, Jarad gently tossed the ball through the ring…
…and it landed in the basket in front of Mandi, fifty feet away.
"Holy shit!" Sharon exclaimed, bringing Jarad running.
Mandi chuckled at the exclamation. "I felt the same way the first time I did that."
"What was it?" Jarad asked.
"Nearly instant travel between two distant points using a pair of linked compressed hyperspace portals. FTL travel without a jump engine," Mandi replied. "There are still some issues to work out though."
"Like what?" Jarad asked.
Mandi picked up the ball Jarad had tossed and dropped it to the floor. Instead of bouncing, it shattered like fine crystal. "That's one, the others are only two portals can link at a time, and they have to be aligned with each other. That is to say, facing each other. I haven't had the chance to test it through solid matter yet."
"Wait, compressed hyperspace? Why are they freezing when it should be charcoal?" Sharon asked.
Mandi nodded. "Good question. But, before I can answer that question, I'll need to get more distance between the two rings. As it is the transit time is too fast to record any data."
"This is really amazing, Sweetheart. I don’t mean to change the subject, but how are the repairs to Greg's sled coming?" Jarad asked.
"Almost finished. We rebuilt the internal structures and applied the meta-polymer inner membrane. Arliss is monitoring its progress while it reconnects its systems. Once that's finished, we'll get the outer hull going on repairing itself. It should be finished in another couple of days," Mandi said frowning.
"Okay, so why haven't you reported this to its pilot?" Jarad asked.
"He's still in medical and will be for quite some time. I had other projects I needed to work on, so I've been working on those instead," she replied somewhat crisply.
"Mandi, you've been in love with him since you two met five years ago, why haven't you gone to see him?" Sharon asked.
"He's my brother, Mom. I'm not 'in love' with him," Mandi replied somewhat sarcastically. "I have been to see him. I saw him when we got to Harclen." She turned her face away and squeezed her eyes shut as a tear escaped her right eye.
Just as Jarad was about to blast her for being an ass to Sharon, the older woman placed a hand on his arm to stop him. She shook her head when he looked at her.
