The Eons-Lost Orphan (The Space Orphan Book 1)

by Laer Carroll

  Having met Betsy Jane was not surprised to meet again First Sergeant Alton Hollister. She greeted him with the reserve his position deserved and he smiled at her.

  "Brian has told me about what you've been up to, Cadet. I'm happy to see you've finally got around to getting some time in fighters."

  The two Firsts introduced Jane to the other two male home owners of the four houses. One was a major who was the head of the on-base medical group. The other was on the technical staff of the base engineering group who supported all the mechanical and electrical systems which kept the base and its aircraft running.

  "I hang my head every time I consort with the other three here: two warriors of the sky and a doctor who daily battles the specters of disease and accident."

  "Funny," said the major, "I haven't noticed you being particularly modest about your achievements. And as for battling specters, the ones I battle daily are the financial penny pinchers and oceans of paperwork."

  "Shh," said the Search and Rescue sergeant. "Not in front of the children. Jane still thinks when she gets promoted to general she'll still be allowed to fly airplanes not desks."

  Shortly Jane was able to escape the august company around the grill and return to the picnic table to help set it up for dinner. The talk among the women was general, often focused on family matters. This even though Jane knew several of the women had careers, some which must pay a lot more money than those of their military husbands.

  When the meat was pronounced ready Jane was asked to call the kids in from the athletic field. She went to do so, seeing as she entered the grassy area that it was larger than it had appeared framed between two houses. It had a baseball diamond to one side and a pair of tennis courts to the other.

  "Dinner's ready!" she called out. There was no reaction until she called a second time. Then first one, then more of the children noticed her and her message. The younger ones were the first to react, turning to run toward and past her.

  Eating was a seemingly chaotic affair though Jane's mathematical talent had her seeing several kinds and levels of organization within the swirl of social interactions.

  Near the end of the dinner Jane, sitting with Betsy and Mary and talking about what they did with their days, was approached by three teenaged girls and a boy. Each had a booklet or a card in hand and a ballpoint pen.

  "You're Jane Kuznetsov, aren't you?" said the more mature of the girls, a strikingly pretty redhead with prominent freckles. "Would you give me your autograph?"

  Jane smiled at her and the other three. "I'd be happy to." She took the items and signed them with her iconic signature; JaneK in italics and surrounded by a Valentine heart. The teenagers left, happily excited.

  "What is this?" said Mary. "You're a celebrity, too?"

  Jane made a face. "In high school as a hobby I composed music. One piece got the attention of a teacher who knew a music producer who was interested in it. At the teacher's insistence I got an agent before signing a deal and she was, IS, very good.

  "Before I knew it she had me on a tour where I conducted the piece. It was very popular especially among kids and I got a lot of downloads. It's still selling; apparently as the market saturates more kids grow up to become a new market segment."

  She shook her head. "I have fan sites, would you believe it? Me." It was still a wonder to her.

  Mary smiled at her. "Seeing the kids just now I have to believe it. Why didn't you follow up your success?"

  "I'm going to be an astronaut. I've known that...since forever. A musical career would not get me there."

  Betsy said, "Just when I think life can't surprise me any more it does once again." She grinned. "Don't worry, Jane. We will continue being wise old heads who will give you sage advice."

  <>

  On Saturday Jane took a break from her aerial ambitions. She lounged at the Manor pool in the morning, her skin becoming a toasty brown which never burned. She dozed, often with strains of music or math idly visiting her then fading away. In the afternoon she read from her growing collection of new and old detective novels.

  That evening a couple of dozen Air Force flight candidates at the Manor went to a restaurant/bar which had country and western dancing including line dancing. She went too with her "staff" of Kate, Klaus, Nicole, and Ricky and a few other cadets.

  <>

  Sunday she was back to studying, this time the new fighter trainer. At 5:00 she went to the Cantina to eat then give a lesson in Argentine tango dancing. There were 21 students in ages ranging from one teen to several of retirement age. Women made up over half of the class but not so badly no one would have a partner for long as Jane had them switch partners.

  "How many of you have seen Argentine tango on TV? That many. Pretty exciting stuff, right? Well, I can't teach you that. Those dancers are professionals who've probably trained since they were kids. What we who dance the tango socially do is much simpler.

  "Social tango is basically walking in an embrace. We do it with a certain style, very smoothly. That's it. Every healthy person can do it. Now, when I count let's take two steps, the women right-left, the men left-right."

  She had them repeat that several times on her count of One-Two. Then One-Two-One-Two.

  "That's it. The Basic Step of tango. This not a dance with a jillion elaborate steps like you've seen on TV. Don't worry, we'll introduce a few fancy moves later. Now everyone pair up and hold hands out in front of you. Extra ladies, pair up with another lady. Here, dear, take my hands."

  She worked up to a tango embrace gradually, always to a count of One-Two in ever longer strings of steps.

  "In tango there are basically two embraces. Bodies apart give us the freedom to do some elaborate 'steps.' Body-to-body, which is what they do in Buenos Aires in the very crowded dance clubs, forces us to do fewer ones."

  Eventually Jane had them moving counter-clockwise around the dance floor in the so-called "line of dance" in time to what she called Old Favorites.

  Afterward she stood at the bar with the owner, whose name really was Lorena.

  "Think any of them will come back?"

  "Sure. Especially the men. It always helps to have a sexy teacher."

  "Sexy? Me?"

  "You don't know? Hmm. You really don't! You must have been brought up in a convent. Honey, you're sexy as Hell. Though to be truthful, if a girl is healthy and fit, and young, most of you are sexy to men."

  Jane didn't have erotic feelings. She wondered if it was because she was an alien (though she still didn't discount the possibility that she was a biological experiment). Or if it was because she was so athletic; she knew that a lot of female athletes didn't get their period until their later teens.

  She was in no hurry to develop romantic feelings. She'd seen too many movies about the craziness they could get people into. And read about real-life examples of that craziness.

  She had noticed that she WAS developing more curves. So maybe there were sexual feelings in her future.

  <>

  At 0900 on Monday she found empty the office of Major Rodriguez, the head of fighter flight training. A clerk in the office next to it said to look in Classroom 4B. There she found him talking to two others, a woman and a man. Seeing her in the doorway he beckoned her in but continued his discussion for a few minutes.

  Done he said, "You're Kuznetsov, right? Walk with me.

  "First says you're a natural pilot and good at studying. You up to speed on our main trainer? Good. Good. Let's take one up."

  She'd brought in her headgear and now borrowed a flight suit from the fighter group's inventory. By the time she returned from changing into the suit the Major had changed into his in his private restroom. He told her he'd filed a flight plan from his computer for a round-robin trip, the same one she and the First had taken Friday. They checked out parachutes and headed to the hangars.

  "We don't have enough of the new trainers. Boeing still thinks if they litigate enough they'll wedge their fighter candidate into the progr
am. Maybe so. We'll see."

  He had her do the routine walk around of one vehicle, quizzing her all the while. Jane found no problems and seemingly satisfied him she had at least a basic understanding of the craft.

  In the vehicle, she in the front seat and he in the back, they connected to the air and electronic fittings. As she did so she quickly became Jane+Robot+Aircraft. SHE fell into her Contented state of relaxed high awareness.

  HER senses spread out into all the electronic devices within a hundred feet or more. SHE ignored the further devices but within seconds SHE could have had complete control of the nearer ones. SHE established a boundary which ended with the skin of HER vehicle. This was a near-automatic procedure for HER. SHE just wanted it and HER robot handled all the details.

  On the flight the Major spoke little and left Jane to safely get them around the circuit and back down to ground at Laughlin.

  Dressed for ground duty the two retired to the pilot's lounge area where a few other air and ground crew were having a mid-morning break. He preferred lemonade and she got the same.

  "I'm satisfied you're as accomplished a pilot as Brian says. You seem to be up to speed on the basic electronics of the craft, too. We'll check you out on all the electronics in the next few days and get you up to speed on every one of them eventually.

  "Are you able to stay on past the end of the Open House? Don't need to be back to the Academy until the beginning of the next semester?"

  "I-- Sir. I-- Yes. I mean No, I have no obligations elsewhere. I still have six weeks to go and I'd love to train here more. But, pardon me, why?"

  "Needs of the service in my judgment. So, we'll take care of the admin details later but here's what I mean to have you do. Become one of our in-house experts on the electronics of the new craft. I am not convinced that we've wrung them out in every way, despite all the PR of our bosses and of the manufacturer. I was happy to see you're an electronics and cybernetics whiz and can give us a fresh view."

  He finished his lemonade and got up to get another. Jane was still working on hers.

  "There's another reason. I want to use you as a guinea pig if you're up for it. What do you know of the Wagon Master program?"

  "Just the basics in the general defense newszines. Also called RemPAC for Remotely Piloted Aircraft."

  "Yes, that's it. It's clear that unmanned aerial vehicles are the wave of the future in the fighter arena, though the Old Guard is still resisting the idea. Without a biological pilot on board a remotely piloted fighter can endure much higher G-loads in maneuvers and doesn't otherwise have to take into account the pilot. We can make the craft lighter or add on weapons systems.

  "So we're initiating an experiment here called Endurance Exercise to keep the real reason for it from getting out. Some of our two-seaters will have their back-seat navigator/instructor control console replaced with a drone director console. It will have channels for up to four drones. A fighter closer to a battle front has a better understanding of the arena than the best distant controllers. He-- She also has a shorter reflex arc than one that may include a satellite link and the consequent delays."

  Jane could not stay seated. She stood up and walked in a brief circle, then sat down again.

  "Captain, you've just got a guinea pig. But, I warn you. I just may take over this program. I already see a dozen improvements that, frankly, I don't think anyone else on this planet could come up with. Are you able to handle a rebel engineer with radical ideas?"

  He leaned back and laughed. "As long as I get to veto your radical ideas, Cadet, you go right ahead. Though I am going to sit on you very hard if you try to run rough-shod over people's feelings. You may be ten times as smart as anybody else, but I need a hundred people eventually to pull off any useful results."

  "I understand perfectly. Put 'er there, sir. We've got a deal." She put out a hand to shake.

  He reached across his body and tapped the golden sunburst insignia on a shoulder tab.

  "You seem to have forgotten one little detail. Me, major. You, cadet. We don't have deals. YOU have orders."

  She kept her hand out and remained gazing into his eyes, a slight smile on her face.

  He sighed but with a hint of a smile edging his eyes shook her hand.

  <>

  The Academy Superintendent looked up as her chief "early warning" expert knocked on the door jamb of her open office door.

  "Kuznetsov?" she said.

  He came in at the implicit invitation and sat in one of the chairs before her desk.

  "A request came through from the fighter training flight to extend the cadet's stay till the beginning of our autumn session. Plus there's a classified project at Laughlin called Endurance Exercise. The cadet has joined it."

  "The Cadet Commandant brought the request to my attention. We approved it, of course. But you seem concerned about the project. Why?"

  "I don't know what it is. Despite my Top Secret clearance. My enquiry was rejected because I don't have 'a need to know.'"

  "Relax. I do and can assure you there's a good reason for it. Without going into details, I can say that they're capitalizing on our cadet's expertise in electronics and computers to improve some of their top of the line instrumentation."

  "Oh. Guess I've become a little paranoid about our cadet. I'll let you get back to your work."

  "I almost wish you'd brought me some emergency. Do you think we can die from drowning in paperwork?"

  He chuckled and left.

  For a moment she sat contemplating the situation down in Laughlin. It was turning into something interesting. Hopefully not in the Chinese curse way: "May you live in interesting times."

  Her eyes fell upon the clock. Twenty more minutes till the instant she could return to being a wife and mother and a friend to her neighbors.

  Then she returned to her job.

  Chapter 14 - USAF Academy - Year 2

  First Semester

  Jane spent the first week of August on leave at her home in Burbank. It seemed like an alien land after her months in Colorado during her first year at the Academy, then the nine weeks in Laughlin Air Force Base in Texas. The cool leaf-shrouded streets around her house seemed chilly and she wore long-sleeved blouses and heavy jeans with a jacket the first day. By the next morning, however, her body had adjusted and she dressed like any SoCal girl.

  She spent much time with her parents but not her quintet. They were engaged in gigs in San Francisco.

  She re-acquainted herself with her Porsche. It was still a pleasure to drive but to someone who routinely flew supersonic fighter aircraft it seemed quite tame. She thought of selling it but her parents objected strongly. They'd keep it in their garage and would drive it regularly.

  That weekend she went to two milongas. Dancing the tango had not become strange. She melted into the atmosphere as if she had never been away.

  <>

  Jane arrived in the Colorado Springs airport and left the aircraft exit tunnel to find the expected sign held up by a man in the airport's uniform addressed to USAF ACADEMY. What she hadn't expected was someone else holding up a sign saying KUZNETSOV.

  When she approached him she found he was a liveried driver of a local limousine company. He assisted her with her meager luggage and soon they were on their way to the Academy.

  "Who laid this on?"

  "A Miss Katherine of the Academy, Commander."

  "That rank is a joke of a friend. Please just call me Miss Kuznetsov. Or Jane."

  "As you wish, Miss."

  She had the limo driver tail the yellow bus carrying the other cadets and pull up several parking spots from the bus when it parked to let out the incoming cadets. She thanked him for his help and tipped him, then picked up her suitcase and joined the other cadets. They were being harassed into ranks by the first-class cadets.

  Shortly she was the object of a cadet yelling at her from a few inches. She noticed without surprise that it was Klaus. He said, "Fall out! Give me twenty!"

  As
she dropped to do the pushups he leaned over her as if to harangue her from close up as her head bobbed up and down. But what he said was no harangue. Quietly he said, "Sorry about the drill, Commander. We've got to blend in when we meet you. Kate will set that up."

  Jane could do a hundred pushups easily, as all those in her entourage knew. She said as quietly, "There's really no need, Klaus. I can function perfectly well without any help."

  "But we can't. Or refuse to. Jane, this is important to us."

  "Oh, very well. Just don't put yourselves in any jeopardy getting us together. That is an order."

  "Yes, sir."

  Jane was assigned to Group 2 of four groups and within that to Squadron 7 of ten squadrons. There were a little over a hundred cadets in each squadron, about evenly distributed numbers of each of the four classes of cadets.

  Being a second year or"third class" cadet her rank was of a junior non-commissioned officer who could boss the first year "fourth class" cadets who acted as privates. Klaus and Kate, being among the two dozen "firsties," acted as commissioned officers and were in command of the squadron under the leadership of an active-duty Air Force major. The four majors were commanded by a lieutenant colonel also on active duty.

  After the cadets were assigned their squadrons they were organized into ranks by group and within it by squadron. They were marched to a nearby grassy field. On it was a low dais with a podium with a microphone mounted on it. Behind them they left their luggage watched over a bored air policeman.

  The colonel gave them a brief pep talk and surrendered them to their majors. Each simply introduced themselves and gave office hours when he or she would counsel them in a few days. Upper class cadets would assign them counseling sessions of a half hour each.

  <>

  Jane quickly settled into her old routine: marching to chow with her squadron, studying a refresher course in the Academy's version of ethics, military discipline, and other matters the cadets might have forgotten during the not quite three months they were away from the Academy.

  It was two days later that her counseling session with her squadron commander came up, right after lunch on a Wednesday. She entered the woman's office, exchanged courtesies, told "At Ease" and to sit.