The Siren, the General's Daughter Book One

by Breanna Hayse

  The new crewmembers stared at him and watched silently as Michael dragged his sister out of the lab by the hand, her short legs running to keep up with him. Looking around at each other, the crew further understood the importance of maintaining silence. They had witnessed the genuine nurturing of their commanders, yet they instinctively knew there was a line not to cross. It appeared that their girl frequently stepped over that line. They were now privy to the family dynamics.

  “You are going to give me whiplash! Slow down,” Sam snarled, trying to break her brother’s grip on her wrist. Much to her chagrin, both her father and uncle were sitting together reviewing a chart when they arrived. She moaned as all hope vanished. Michael shoved her into the room and slammed the door behind him.

  “Hello. Thanks for knocking, son.”

  “Dad, I am so pissed right now that I don’t care. Sit!” he ordered his sister. She sat, feeling the stares. Michael rapidly explained to them what had occurred including her blatant disregard of his instructions and her own safety. Scott’s cheek started to twitch and the vein in his father’s neck popped out. For a moment, he felt sorry for her.

  But only for a moment.

  “We will handle this when we get home tonight. Young lady, what do you have to say for yourself?” her father asked darkly. She looked at the floor, shaking her head. Scott was too angry to speak, which terrified her even more. “Michael, take her back to work. She is confined to the lab and the tank only upon necessity. You are also grounded for two weeks, Samantha.”

  “Two weeks!”

  “Make it a month. No phone, no flying, no TV,” Scott finally spoke. “I promise you, after tonight, you will never, ever consider disobeying any of us again. Get out of here. I don’t even want to look at you right now.”

  Michael was as stunned as his sister with those words. They had never been spoken to like that. The girl broke into tears and ran from the room, not caring who saw her. Michael stood up slowly. “Uncle Scott, I think that comment was uncalled for. You really crushed her,” he said hotly, leaving to find the girl and bring some comfort.

  Scott had tears in his eyes as he turned to his friend. “She’s going to kill herself, Joe. What can we do?”

  “Pray hard. Other than that, I just don’t know.”

  Scott nodded, standing. “I’ll be right back. I need to do some apologizing. I should not have said that.” He slowly walked to the labs, gesturing everyone to sit when they saw his entrance. They pointed to the testing room. His niece was sitting in a chair, hooked to electrodes, still crying softly. He sighed. Leave it to Sam to turn even her emotional pain into a science experiment. He rested his hand on her shoulder. She glanced at it but did not look up. He squatted beside her to look into her face.

  “Honey, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken without thinking about how it would hurt you. Please, forgive me.”

  She didn’t look at him, still sniffing. Her readings fluctuated wildly, with no patterns. They finally stabilized just before she spoke. “I guess we are a lot alike. Our tempers can get the better of us.”

  “Yes, it’s the Jenkins curse. We both say things that we shouldn’t. Good thing Mike didn’t inherit that side from Mom.”

  “I hate when we fight. It makes me feel so alone and unwanted. I’m not used to feeling like that,” she whispered. Scott reached for her hand.

  “Look at me. Please? You know how much I love you. Honey, you terrify me. I’m begging you. Stop doing things like this, my heart can’t take it.”

  “I’m really sorry,” she said, returning his squeeze.

  He smiled, reaching for a hug. “We good?”

  “Always. Uncle Scott? Could you do me a favor?”

  “Anything, baby. What do you need?”

  “I need you to tell my brother to get his head out of his ass and listen to me. He acts like he knows everything! I really think I figured out the I-band problem.”

  Scott laughed, standing. “Let’s see what you’ve got then I’ll approach him. That cocky side he got from Dad, not me. I’m incredibly humble about my brilliance.”

  Eagerly, she pulled out the tapes and ran a comparison on the computer. “Look- the sharks are responding to the hypothalamus, not the corpus, of the brain. Because their neurosystem is so primitive, they are unable to process advanced imaging. It confuses them, which puts them into predatory mode. See?”

  Scott nodded, once again amazed. She continued. “Here are the readings when I was going through that saline loss.” She handed him the strips. “It boils down to base needs. Maslow’s law. There is no emotion, no cognition… pure instinct. Now, if we can tap into that….”

  “Ok, I am convinced. Did you explain this to Mike?”

  “I tried, but we were too busy fighting. You know that’s how we work out the bugs.”

  “Yes, I know. You guys should really find a quieter way, though. Dad’s afraid of you frightening your co-workers.”

  “They know us well enough by now. Besides, heightened emotion increases our cognitive awareness between us. It’s that funky twin thing you tease us about. Look,” she said, showing him some more comparisons. The brain function of the two was almost identical during the peak of their fighting. “Scott? He’s forgets that I’m the biologist. He’s not. This is what I’m trained in.” Her slate blue eyes pleaded with him to understand.

  “Let me go straighten some stuff out with Mike first, then we’ll conference. I’ll get Dad here, too. It would help having a physician explain to a stubborn physicist how to adjust brain frequencies.”

  “Which stubborn physicist are we talking about, you or Mike?”

  Scott laughed, patting her thigh before leaving. He followed the pointing fingers of the Allegro crew to the closed office door. “Mike? I need to talk with you,” he tapped on the door.

  “Come in,” he heard the low response. Scott entered, inhaling deeply. His tall, handsome nephew had his eyes locked on the computer screen and refused to acknowledge him. “Son, I’m sorry. I was wrong to say what I did. Like your sister pointed out, the Jenkins temper took over and does stupid things.”

  “No shit. Scott, you really can act like an asshole at times. You disappointed me,” Michael said, turning to stare at his uncle.

  Scott sat down. “I know. I disappointed myself. It will never happen again, I promise.”

  “Yeah, right. How can I be sure of that?” Michael snapped, punching in some numbers.

  Scott looked surprised. He had been prepared to face his nephew, not a young man protecting a woman. “Well, all I can give you is a promise to try. Fifty-six years of habit is hard to change overnight.”

  “It’s about time you do. I’ll put up with almost anything, but the line is drawn here. I don’t care what you put her backend through, but we all need to protect her heart. None of us have ever been dismissed like that. It was so damn heartless.”

  “You’re right, as always. I already spoke with her. Would it make you feel better if I abstain from her discipline tonight and let Dad handle it? As much as she scared me, I am willing to do that to prove to you I’m sincere.”

  “You would do that?” It was Michael’s turn to look surprised. “She almost got herself killed today.”

  “I would do anything for you, son. Even relinquish that part of my responsibilities this one time.”

  Michael finally laughed, pushing away from his desk to study his uncle. Scott couldn’t decide who he resembled more at that moment, his father or himself. “I really like the condition of ‘this one time.’ Are you good with her now?” he asked, waiting for the nod. Scott also found it interesting how the young man had turned the tables on him. “Then I see no reason to spare her the added terror of dealing with you if you are up to it. I need to stand back, my feelings are too intense. I was there.”

  “I have an idea. Wanna hear it?” Scott got that twinkle.

  Michael wrinkled his face. “Yeah, but I need a hug first. She scared the shit out of me.”

  �
��I forget sometimes,” Scott embraced his nephew tightly, “that you aren’t much more than a kid yourself. Normal families don’t deal with this stuff.”

  “Normal families don’t have a gremlin living with them. Thanks, you can let go now. What’s your plan?”

  “Now, we will have to get Dad to agree, but here goes….”

  ***

  “They’ve been in there for a long time,” a tech stated to an Allegro crewman.

  “I know. Hey, whatever it takes for them to work things out. Our lives depend on their ability to function as a unit. You’ll understand when we go into the field. I have to admit, I wish I could have been raised in a family like that. I would never have dared doing half the stupid stuff I did.”

  “You turned out ok, you’re here working as a lab manager.”

  Nick smiled. “It’s all because of them. When they found out I wanted to stay under their command, they put me through school for training.”

  “Just because you wanted to stay?” It was unheard of.

  The man nodded. “I’m telling you, they are remarkable. Loyalty is the most important thing to them. That and respect. Give them both with a little hard work, and you will be in a good place. Oh, here comes Scott. He doesn’t look pissed.”

  They watched as the two entered the testing room and closed the door firmly behind them. Within a few minutes, the yelling began. Smiles passed over the men as things returned to normal. Dr. Quimby walked in shortly and rolled his eyes as he heard the bellowing from behind the door. “I promise I’m going to fit this outfit with a sound proof testing room. I told them to wait for me…” he opened the door, “Ok, lower your voices, all of you. We are professionals. There is no need to yell.”

  “He’s impossible!”

  “She’s demented!”

  “I need a drink,” the father sighed, plopping in a chair and rubbing his head as his two children threw notes at each other.

  Scott grinned. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Got a minute? I wanted to share a thought.”

  ***

  On the way home, after Sam was reminded of her one month restriction, silence filled the car. With some convincing provided by his father and uncle, Michael had finally agreed to test his sister’s hypothesis and promised to look into readjusting the I-band for the different area of the brain. He reluctantly admitted that it made sense according to the evidence she proudly presented. He also admitted his desire to trash the whole project so Sam wouldn’t risk herself again. Although the temptation was unanimous among her family, they all agreed that it would be futile since she would only find something else to dismay them with.

  The girl sunk into the seat, dreading their arrival home. She could not recall the last time she had all three so angry with her. In the immortal (but still unspoken) words, she fucked up royally.

  It was Michael’s turn to make dinner. Sam followed him into the kitchen, offering to help. He politely refused and sent her back to the living room. Scott flipped the channels on the large plasma TV while Dr. Quimby quietly opened the paper. Neither said a word to her. Sighing, she went up to her room and plopped on the window seat to stare out the window over the large ocean. She knew she was getting the silent treatment for a while.

  The waves were extremely high and producing a lot of foam, indicating a strong rip tide was surging. Frowning, she watched a kayaker heading towards the black water which captured the tiny craft and pulled the hopeless boater out to sea. Muttering a curse, Sam threw on her wetsuit, tore down the stairs and without a word, dove over the side of the deck. Her family ran out behind her.

  “Follow her!” Dr. Quimby ordered his son, who was already pulling on his suit. Michael dove off the railing and caught up to her as she was struggled with the capsized the boater. Michael dragged him over the orca and held him in place as Sam mounted Ton’s broad back. Using his transmitter, Michael called for an ambulance, and then deposited the shipwrecked boater on the beach as Sam reported her findings to the paramedics. The two stood silently and waited as the boater was transported away.

  Sam took a deep breath and turned back silently to the waves. She plunged beneath the surface with her brother on her heels, grateful that he had been there to help. They swam silently side by side back to the house with only a brief “Thanks,” shared as Michael pulled his sister up onto the small dock. The girl silently retreated back to her room as the details of the incident were conveyed to the family.

  “That man would have died if she hadn’t seen him,” Michael said quietly, drying himself off. “He was in bad shape.”

  “Idiots should know to stay out of rips,” Dr. Quimby muttered. “I finished up dinner for you, by the way.”

  “Gee thanks. Was it because I was gone or because you were hungry?”

  “Both. Go get something dry on and grab your sister. It’s time to eat.”

  Dr. Quimby watched as his daughter picked at her meal. “Samantha, you are to eat. You’re too thin.”

  “She could use a little more meat on that bottom, for sure,” Scott interjected. “You heard your father, finish your dinner.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “This isn’t a discussion,” Dr. Quimby ordered. “You will sit here until that plate is empty.”

  So she sat, staring at her plate, hands in her lap and feeling very much like a chastised child. Scott elbowed his friend, whispering ‘stubborn’ and was countered with ‘she’s just like you.’

  By 8:30 that evening, she won her cause and was dismissed to her room.

  Confused, she obeyed, wondering when the trial and execution was to begin.

  As the routine, Dr. Quimby woke the two up at 0500 the next morning with orders to get cleaned up and go down for breakfast. Michael groaned, plopping back onto the bed, waiting for his customary pounce. Nothing. It saddened him. As irritating as it was, it also started his day with the connection. Still half asleep, he showered and dressed, meeting the family downstairs.

  “Morning sleepy head. Coffee?” Scott asked.

  “It depends. Who made it?”

  “I did.”

  “No thank you. I hate mornings,” he grumbled, accepting a piece of toast from his father. His sister sat silently at the end of the table, not making her typical comments. He missed them immediately. He could tell the others did too.

  “So, what are your plans today?” Dr. Quimby asked his son. “Besides taking a nap.”

  “I want to work on Sam’s theory. I’ll need your help,” he told the two men.

  “No problem. Samantha, we expect you to cooperate today without arguing.”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “And eat your fruit. I’m not going to keep reminding you,” her father sounded exasperated. She really was too thin for his liking.

  As they pulled into the parking lot on base, Scott issued instructions for Michael to meet him briefly at the seal unit before they started on the I-band. Michael glanced at his sister in the seat next to him, feeling her fury. “Scott, this is Sam’s specialty, not mine. You need to let her handle this guy.”

  “I am not putting her, or this command, in jeopardy. He has a lot of pull. I know you don’t understand.”

  “What I don’t understand is why you are being such a chicken shit—”

  “Watch it, Michael,” his father warned.

  “I’m sorry. Let me rephrase. We have been awarded honorifics in our fields. We worked hard for them. Nothing has been handed to either of us. It is unethical to deprive Sammi her dues just because of her gender. It is also illegal.”

  “I’m not arguing with you, so calm down. Are you sure you didn’t get just a little of the Jenkins temper?” Scott held up his hand, turning to look at his nephew.

  Michael was simmering, but quiet.

  “What I am saying is that we need to find a way to get her invited in, not act like bulldozers. I have plenty of pull, too, son, but I’ve learned the hard way, not to fu... mess with senior enlisted. Trust me.”

  �
��Uncle Scott, may I please say something?”

  “Go on.”

  “I, um, I’ve been able to work a basic code that I believe will function on the peds. I’ve, well, I’ve been practicing.”

  “What!” Michael roared. She sunk in her seat. He had, once again, specifically forbidden her to practice without him being present. Dr. Quimby and Scott simultaneously groaned, looking at each other. She quietly explained her reasoning and included the need for calmness to be allowed to enter the herd. She swore she had dolphin close by if needed, but her family knew that if the sea lions attacked, the pod would be too late.

  “Breathe,” Dr. Quimby said, trying to take the role of the sensible one. His hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white. Scott closed his eyes, focusing himself to calmness.

  Michael just glared, clenching his fists.

  “What have you learned during this little adventure?” her father asked, looking at her in the rear view mirror.

  “Can we go inside first and talk in your office?” she asked timidly. Dr. Quimby nodded, gesturing the other two out of the vehicle. They were saluted multiple times before finally entering headquarters. Not paying attention, Sam turned the corner and bumped into a very broad body. Master-Sergeant Higgins.

  “Oh, pardon me, Master-Sergeant,” she said quickly, deferring to him out of respect.

  He looked down at her, scowling. “Good morning, Lt. Quimby. Sirs,” he acknowledged the other three. Michael bristled at the man’s arrogance. Scott shook his head. Dr. Quimby’s eyes narrowed.

  Sam flashed her best smile. “I’m so glad to finally meet you. I’ve read about your work. It is incredible.”

  “I understand that you are interested in joining my unit. I think I made my preferences known.”

  “Yes, Sir. However, I would like to make a wager with you. Care to take me up on it?”

  “I don’t make bets with women. Or children.”

  Dr. Quimby’s hackles rose and he was silently held back by his friend.

  Sam nodded. “Perhaps not, but how about with a fellow scientist, rank aside for the moment?”