Star Watch

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  Ten feet to her front was a dense wall of ferns, taller than she was. About to turn away and return to the Zoo, a distant noise caught her attention. There was a rustling off in the distance, deep in the overgrown foliage. Birds screeched and took flight all around. Suddenly, an animal burst into the open and Boomer only had time to see something big and black barreling down on her. Paralyzed, she stood immobilized as it leapt for her. Bowled over onto the ground, her face was slathered by a giant blue tongue.

  Boomer laughed with delight as the six-legged drog licked her face, making yippy, excited, whining sounds.

  Boomer yelled, “Alice! Stop … licking … me!”

  With that, the drog leapt off her, running around in circles—going right then darting left. All six legs moved simultaneously, in their strange, unnatural, rhythm. Boomer sat on the ground and watched Alice’s crazy happy antics. She hadn’t seen her favorite pet since The Lilly. Then she had a sudden insight, realizing their clever ruse: Her father quickly dropping her off; Jack acting annoyed; the open habitat. It was all pre-staged—to reunite her with Alice. Coming from behind her, she heard her name called.

  “Boomer!”

  She turned around and saw Dira, Rizzo—one of her father’s young Navy SEAL friends—and Jack standing in the corridor, smiling back at her.

  “You all tricked me?”

  Dira, laughing, stepped in and gave Alice a scratch behind her ears. Rizzo smiled and waved. “We’ve got to get back; good to see you again, Boomer.” Rizzo and Dira hurried off down the corridor.

  “Thank you, Jack … I really missed Alice.”

  Jack half-shrugged, scratching at his white scruffy beard. “It’s no big deal. Just thought you’d want to see her again.”

  Boomer got down on her knees and wrapped her arms around the drog’s midsection. Placing her head on her back, she cooed, “You’re a good girl, Alice.”

  Jack walked over to the access panel. “You can come back and play with her later. Boomer, I need to get this portal closed … its been held open a lot longer than it’s supposed to be.” He gestured for Boomer to join him in the corridor as he entered a code into the access panel. Boomer, watching Alice seated on her back haunches, gave her a goodbye wave while the portal window was reactivated. She heard the familiar three beeps and the portal window appeared again like solid glass.

  “The captain tells me he wants me to give you more responsibilities,” Jack said, looking serious. “He thinks you’re ready for it. To be honest … I’m not so sure.”

  “I am ready!”

  “Uh huh. Well … okay … come with me. We’ll start right now.” He strode down the corridor, not waiting for Boomer, while talking over his shoulder. “With Ricket’s help, I’ve begun work on several of the more distressed habitats in the Zoo … some have gone long periods of time without any attention … what’s necessary in maintaining and retaining viable eco-systems.”

  Boomer, catching up and walking by his side, took in the various habitats they passed along the way.

  “Although there are some habitats that are more self-sufficient … ecosystems needing little in the way of oversight … there are others, like Alice’s HAB 209 back there, that require significantly more attention. Animals of all different species need to be fed … cared for. If that doesn’t happen, you know the result?”

  “They die.”

  “Yes, that’s right, they die. And I won’t have that on my watch.”

  Boomer continued walking by Jack’s side until he slowed. They reached the end of the corridor and stopped in front of a habitat. “This one is in bad shape. Ignored from way back, when the Minian was under Caldurian control, before Granger had …”

  Boomer finished Jack’s sentence for him, “Before Granger stole the Minian from them, right?”

  Jack didn’t respond to that. He pointed to the habitat. “Unattended for over a year, all indigenous animal life perished. Starvation, the primary issue. This is HAB 7 and I want you to see firsthand what happened here.”

  “What is it you want me to see in there?”

  Jack moved off to the access panel and began entering the code. She kept her eyes on HAB 7’s portal window. It looked dark and foreboding inside, as if a storm was brewing. Like any moment the skies would open up and pour down a deluge of rain. She realized that this habitat seemed different, too. Where other habitats were naturally primitive, untouched by civilization or environmental changes—this one clearly showed evidence of some habitation by intelligent life. Dreary-looking in the darkness, there were ancient ruins scattered across the distant landscape.

  “What is this place, Jack?” she asked.

  He entered the last digits of the code and immediately three beeps sounded. Preparing to enter the open habitat, he reached out his hand to Boomer. “Come with me.”

  Together, they crossed over the threshold and entered HAB 7. Taking no more than ten steps, she heard the portal reinitialize. They were now trapped in this dreary place until Jack reentered the code.

  Boomer looked back over her shoulder and found the nearly hidden metal box containing the inside access panel. It started to drizzle. “Jack, are you sure we should be in here? Maybe we should wait for Ricket. He’s a scientist.”

  “I’m more than qualified to be here, young lady,” he scoffed.

  But she knew he wasn’t. He was older, and looked to be having trouble walking on the uneven terrain. The last thing she needed was for him to break a hip, or something … and she didn’t know the code to get them out of here.

  “Jack, I think we should activate our suits,” Boomer said, her senses alert.

  “Why?” he snapped.

  “Well … it may be dangerous. Please?”

  “All indications are we’re entering a dead environment. Now look here, Boomer, I felt it necessary to show you the importance of what we’ll be doing in the coming days … show you the ins and outs which come with your new responsibilities. Most importantly, what happens when a habitat is not properly cared for. This place is an example of that kind of neglect.”

  Jack tripped and went down on one knee. He slowly stood back up, but looked unsteady.

  “We’re initiating our suits, Jack … we have to!”

  He looked at her and let out a breath. “Fine. I’m not sure I remember how, though.”

  She watched as Jack used his thumb and forefinger to pinch two small indentations on both sides of the small, metallic device worn on his belt. It took him several tries. She let out a slow breath, trying to be patient. Everyone on board the Minian was required to wear a SuitPac device, which was relatively new Caldurian technology to both The Lilly and Minian’s crew. The SuitPac transformed itself before her eyes as small sections, segment-by-segment, expanded and followed the contours of Jack’s body. The last section to unfold enveloped his head in an oblong helmet. Within the span of two to three seconds every inch of Jack was encased in a hardened battle suit. Boomer then initiated her own SuitPac and several seconds later was staring back at Jack through the visor of her helmet. A myriad of semi-transparent numerical and symbolic Heads-Up Display, HUD, indicators danced in front of her eyes. Boomer was well acquainted with the amazing functionality of a battle suit. A suit that was, in all practicality, a self-contained space ship unto itself.

  Rain poured down from above. Somehow the suit’s visor compensated for the torrent of water and her vision remained crystal clear. “So what did you want to show me, Jack? The weather is getting pretty bad.”

  Jack pointed in the direction of a half-walled circular structure. Time and the elements had left the dark block walls worn and eroded. Then Boomer saw the droid. Half buried in the gray sand, it looked similar to her own droid, Dewdrop.

  Jack nodded, as if anticipating Boomer’s next question. “Part of the problem here. All the feeding and caregiving droids that serviced this habitat are like this … inoperable.”

  Boomer stopped in front of the droid and knelt down. She used her hand to wipe
sand away from its buried lower, triangular-shaped torso. It was facing downward, toward the ground. She carefully slid her hands beneath its body, and flipped it over onto its back. Startled, Jack reached his hand out, touching Boomer’s shoulder, and coaxed her to back away. They stared down at the open cavity on the droid’s now-exposed torso. The droid had deployed a plasma weapon in that small open cavity on its chest area. Boomer thought of Dewdrop, who had a similar hidden cavity, with a weapon configured inside it—just like this one. She peered up at Jack, then at the droid. “This droid’s been in a battle … look, there’s scorch marks all over it.”

  Jack looked nervous; unlike Boomer, he wasn’t the slightest bit familiar with combat situations. “Come on, we should now return to the portal.”

  But Boomer was no longer looking at the droid—or at Jack, either, for that matter. All her attention was focused on the figure standing atop one of the toppled pillars—less than fifty feet away. Dressed in white, from head to toe, the material of his garment whipped behind him in the stormy wind. The surrounding darkness flashed white when lightning streaked like jagged tree branches across the sky. In that bright instant, Boomer saw two similarly dressed figures standing close behind the man on the pillar.

  Jack looked down, scared and ready to run. Boomer was more curious than scared. Why weren’t those men showing up on her HUD, she wondered. Where were their life-icons?

  The man on the pillar jumped down and, along with his three companions, headed directly for them. Jack grabbed Boomer’s arm and pulled. “We need to get out of here … right now!”

  Boomer knew she was well equipped to handle herself. The battle suit was nearly impregnable and she had plasma weapons integrated at both her wrists. She readied herself for possible action.

  Jack moved behind her as the first of the men drew close. He was dressed, she imagined, like an Arabian nomad would be dressed; most of his face was veiled—only his eyes and long hair were left uncovered.

  “Stop right there,” Boomer commanded into the roaring wind, holding out her wrist, prepared to fire.

  She watched the man’s eyes. When he moved it was quick as lightning. He now stood inches from her. When he lifted his hand and touched her visor, her battle suit began to retract, segment by segment, back into the small SuitPac on her belt. She turned to see Jack lying on the ground … he looked dead.

  Chapter 10

  Sol System

  The Minian, Open Space – Near Jefferson Station

  _________________

  The Minian was scheduled to depart in forty-five minutes. Jason, sitting in his ready room, alongside recently promoted Commander Perkins, his XO, was doing a final review of the onboard roster. Perkins, a man in his mid-thirties, was preppy looking, his straight blond hair usually perfectly combed. Jason found his second-in-command something of a do-gooder … everything by the book. It had caused conflicts between them in the past, but in the end, Jason figured his XO was a good balance for his own shoot from the hip style of command.

  “So this is it … this is final?”

  “Actually, not quite, sir. One final inbound shuttle is entering the flight deck now. Last minute additions … including your new petty officer, who’s assigned to Boomer.”

  From what Jason understood, the Minian, for the first time that he was aware of, had a full crew complement.

  “So we have two thousand and forty,” Perkins said, looking at his own virtual notebook. “The bulk of security forces consists of thirteen hundred and fifty specially-trained, highly lethal, men and women, from a hybrid Marine, Navy SEAL contingent; they are commonly referred to as Space Sharks, or simply Sharks. There’s also the non-officer onboard crew, consisting of six hundred men and women, mostly brought in from recently decommissioned ships.”

  Jason was well aware of the latter fact. He’d lately been inundated with requests from other fleet commanders who were looking for new posts for their best people. With the long Craing War over, a thing of the past, ships were being decommissioned, their crews retiring, either back to Earth or to homes on other planets. Without a present war to engage in, there simply wasn’t the need for such a large military presence.

  “We have sixty-five officers spread out across multiple departments,” Perkins added.

  “A lot of people,” Jason said. He’d reviewed the list numerous times and it still seemed like an overwhelming number of crew on board. His largest command responsibility to date.

  “And that’s just the Minian’s crew. The armada includes three light Craing cruisers and nine heavy Craing cruisers. That’s roughly another two thousand.”

  Jason was being hailed via his NanoCom. He gestured for Perkins to hold tight.

  “Go for Captain.”

  “You still have a place for me?” Billy Hernandez asked.

  “You, yes … your stinking cigars, no,” Jason said, glad to hear his friend’s voice. “So what happened? Got tired chasing zombies?”

  “Something like that. Um, Cap … I’m here with Lieutenant Garret. It seems there’s no room here for this old sea dog.”

  Jason checked the time. “I’ll be right down, I need to make a quick stop first … try not to get your panties twisted into a knot.”

  * * *

  Jason exited the DeckPort on Deck 7—where the ship’s security forces barracks were situated. He found Lieutenant Garret’s office; Billy stood in the center of a group of men nearby. Jason tapped his knuckles on the lieutenant’s open hatch and entered the compartment. Garret was seated at his desk, reviewing a virtual notebook. Without looking up, he said, “Just take a seat … be with you in a moment.” Jason instantly didn’t like the man. Stocky, with broad shoulders and an extreme flattop haircut, the ruddy-faced lieutenant looked near to Jason’s age.

  Jason remained standing and waited for Garret to look up. Eventually he did.

  “Oh! Pardon me, sir. Didn’t see you lingering there.”

  Jason checked his watch. “I don’t have a lot of time so I’ll make this short and sweet. Hernandez will hold a leadership position here.”

  “With all due respect, sir. Billy … as well as your other men including Jackson and Rizzo … is not trained at the same high level as my Sharks. I can work Rizzo and Jackson into shape … but not for leadership roles. This isn’t a good fit for Hernandez.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Aye, sir. I realize you two go way back. You’re friends and all. But—”

  “Stand up, Lieutenant. You’ve already disrespected me once. Don’t disrespect me again.”

  Garret made a face, hesitated a second, then slowly rose to his feet. He made a nasally sound—a quick huffing noise through his nostrils.

  “You’re a real tough guy … I can see that, Lieutenant.” Jason glanced back through the hatch at the growing crowd watching them from the barracks. “Tell me. Are you as tough as your men … your Sharks? Or are you just a big talker … a blow hard?” Jason checked his watch again. He had ten minutes to get back to the bridge.

  “Look. I’m sorry if we got off on the wrong foot, Captain. I guess, I’m just not used to being micromanaged when it comes to my men.”

  “Yeah, well things are done differently on my ship. Keep in mind, they’re not your men any longer, they are mine. But I’m going to give you an opportunity to put your money where your mouth is. I noticed you have a gym and a sparring ring set up here.”

  “Sharks are rarely idle … you’re free to come down and use it, sir. Perhaps we can put a program together for you. Get that waistline of yours tightened up a bit.”

  Jason knew his middle wasn’t quite as firm as it had been several months ago, but it hadn’t yet reached the point he needed to loosen his belt a notch either.

  “Get yourself into that ring. Don’t change your clothes, don’t remove your boots,” Jason ordered.

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you … right now.”

  There it was again, the nostril snorting. This time, a smirk came along
with it. “No problem, Captain.”

  Garret came around his desk and walked past Jason, keeping his eyes locked on Jason’s. Apparently, their heated discussion hadn’t gone unheard. All Sharks in that section of the barracks, easily one hundred men, plus a few women, made an open space for the lieutenant to walk through. There were hoots and hollers and pats on his back as Garret moved through the crowd toward the gym. Jason held back a moment and waited for Billy to join him at his side.

  “What exactly are we doing here, Cap?”

  Jason looked at his watch again. “I have six minutes. You want a place here, among these men?”

  Billy nodded. “Sure.”

  “Show Garret what an old SEAL has left in his tank.”

  “Yeah, you sure?”

  “We’re burning daylight here … I’m sure.”

  Jason watched Billy head off between the Sharks, boos and insults following him. The gym was not large enough for everyone to enter so Jason had to muscle his way in between big, muscular bodies. The ring was a hexagon—the ultimate fighting-type configuration—used for mixed martial arts: boxing, karate, wrestling, Sambo, Muay Thai, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, and judo, and of course standard military close combat training, to give a few.

  Garret was standing in the middle of the ring, warming up—dancing around like a prizefighter. On the other side of the ring, Jason spotted Rizzo, and Sergeant Jackson, the enormous African-American Army Ranger who’d also served on The Lilly.