by Ron Collins
“Casmir!”
Gregor Anderson came near.
They clasped hands.
“We’ve made it,” Anderson said.
“It appears so.”
Casmir looked at Yvonne, then.
She was grinning, actually smiling wide with her white teeth glowing against the dark skin of her lips.
It was an expression that made him very happy.
CHAPTER 17
UGSS Carrier Transport Ambassador
Local Solar Date: March 14, 2206
Local Solar Time: 0715 Hours
They landed in tandem.
Deuce and Yuletide, Yuletide and Deuce: the two best fliers on station. They had been together today, working side by side as if they had never scuffled before, supporting each other like they were brothers.
The mission had gone like clockwork—simple and straightforward.
Despite their success, Jarboe felt no joy as he sat in the cockpit waiting for the bots to finish their postflight scan of the engine seals. In this moment of silent solitude, he decided that while he did feel better—good, even—the memory of Janie Lowell’s freckle-faced cheekbones and crooked smile meant he couldn’t bring himself to feel any real joy.
The cowling popped open, and he jumped to the ground.
A second bot set about scouring the XB-25 Firebrand’s surface, looking for damage in the fighter-bomber’s microstructure and making repairs as it found necessary.
Nimchura was already out of his machine and was removing his helmet.
Jarboe met his wing’s gaze. “Nice shooting,” he said, offering his hand. “You cleared a path I couldn’t miss.”
Nimchura clasped hands. “Glad you didn’t screw it up,” he said.
Jarboe nearly rose to the bait, but let it go instead.
Today was about paybacks.
Today was about victory.
Nimchura had done his job. There was no value in a dustup now.
“Now we take back Icarus and Einstein,” Jarboe said.
“Damn right, sirs,” an enlisted said as he passed by.
Jarboe and Nimchura looked at each other for an awkward moment, then smiled.
Thirty minutes after the mission was complete, Jarboe was in the mess hall getting dinner when he was paged to the squadron room. There, the mission planners gave them the news.
Their intelligence was “incomplete,” they said.
Incomplete was a word that Jarboe had long ago come to understand meant wrong.
The U3 spaceport they had bombed had been a decoy.
Casmir Francis and the rest of U3’s leadership had escaped from a hidden site several kilometers away.
Their mission had failed.
Not your fault, of course, his CO said.
Keep your chins up.
And all that crap.
CHAPTER 18
U3 Ship Icarus
Local Ship Date: March 14, 2206
Local Ship Time: 1300 Hours
“This way, sir,” Casmir’s guide said, turning him and his family toward the lift station.
“After you, Gregor,” Casmir said, waving Anderson ahead. “I assume you would like to see the bridge?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Anderson said, his face split in a huge smile.
The lift tube rose like it rode on oiled air.
“We’re excited to have you aboard, sir,” the anxious guide said in an attempt to pass the time.
“Not nearly as excited as I am about being here. This is a beautiful ship.”
“Only the best for you, sir.”
Casmir lifted an eyebrow, realizing there was no way the organization could possibly have built anything as grand as Icarus, better yet four of them. That could change now, though. The designs and service procedures were all in the craft’s memory banks. Universe Three had engineers as brilliant as the UG had. All they needed was time and resources, both of which he hoped would soon be in plentiful supply.
The lift arrived and the door opened.
The guide showed them to the bridge.
“Director Francis,” a man dressed in a blue United Government uniform said, coming forward to greet him. “It is an honor, sir.”
“You must be Timmon Keyes,” Casmir said, taking the man’s hand.
“At your service.”
Keyes’s grip was firm.
The bridge was too huge to absorb in a single glance. Three rows of stations were arranged in a cascading auditorium-style seating, yet only Keyes and three others were operating the controls.
“It looks like it would take a battalion to operate this ship,” he said.
Keyes’s eyes lit up as he gave a close-lipped smile.
“Full bridge would be thirty-five, sir. But you would be amazed what just the four of us can manage.”
“I am never surprised by what people who wish to be free can accomplish.”
The smile on Keyes’s face broadened.
“Thank you, sir,” he said. “Let me introduce you to the rest of the bridge.” He motioned toward the other three crew members, all wearing UG livery. “This is Lenny Tash, Brooke Nassir, and Katriana Martinez. They all played important roles in acquiring this craft. We have others on board at other stations, of course.”
“My thanks to each of you,” Casmir said. “Rest assured I will see you are each recognized for your service.”
“Thank you, sir,” the blond-haired Martinez said.
“Yes, thank you,” Tash added.
Nassir just gave a tight-lipped nod.
Casmir looked at Martinez.
While the others were just as firm in their greetings, there was an edge to her gaze that he liked. He made a note to review her records. It was his experience that people with that edge were important. They believed in their mission with a passion fueled by something greater than pure ideology. They worked for the cause because the cause was personal in some way that others couldn’t comprehend.
He turned to Keyes. “I think we should be heading home.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then take us to Eta Cass,” Casmir said. “And we’ll see what glorious planets await us there.”
“Aye, sir. We’ll do that.”
Keyes turned to Martinez and Tash.
“Set coordinates, and let’s get this beautiful spacecraft doing what it does best.”
The light show faded as Icarus fell out of jump speed.
Casmir Francis stood on the high pedestal of the bridge and watched colors drain from the view panel. The entire room stirred slowly, each person moving with silent reverence, as if not wanting to break the mood.
“The lights were magnificent,” he said.
Keyes replied. “It’s a phenomenon that stems from the way the ship disturbs the zero field between matter and antimatter. It’s a very unstable slice of space-time. Break the link between us and the wormhole as we’re moving, and it will collapse.”
“What would happen then?” Gregor Anderson asked from his seat at one of the command stations.
Keyes shrugged. “I wouldn’t really like to find out, sir.”
Casmir smiled at him, then at Yvonne.
“Just when you think you control everything, the powers that be show you otherwise.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do we have the planet?” Keyes said.
“I’ve resolved coordinates to Atropos,” Katriana Martinez replied from below, where she was operating the navigation station. “Initial projections were off a bit, but the first spectral scan suggests inhabitable surface temperature, and O2 content. It appears we can confirm liquid water, also.”
By common naming convention, the planet was known as Eta Cass b, the second planet that had been identified in the Eta Cass system, but a scientist involved in their discovery had also named the three planets in the system after the three Fates: Clotho, the spinner of a life’s thread, Lachesis, the measurer of that life, and Atropos, the cutter of the thread. These were the names that stuck.
Casmir admitted he liked the idea of landing on Atropos.
Atropos would shear the ties between the UG and their Universe Three renegades. The name played to his weird sense of irony, independence, and inevitability.
A few members of the United Government’s scientific community also believed Atropos was a good target, but it was not a popular opinion among them at present, which added to its attractiveness as far as Casmir was concerned. It was expected to be a vaguely Earthlike planet, though its temperatures were a touch higher, and early scans suggested it had both an oxygenated atmosphere and organic markers that spoke of fertile ground and potentially active life.
All the data they were receiving from the planet now was in line with what had been remotely determined, but Casmir saw the relieved expressions on several of the crew. Seeing, he realized, was believing.
“Take us there,” he said.
The crew got to action.
The door opened and Deidra entered. His thirteen-year-old daughter’s hair was now caught up in a single businesslike ponytail that hung straight down in the artificial gravity. She held herself primly and walked without haste to her father’s side.
Yvonne put her hand on Deidra’s shoulder, but Deidra edged far enough away that Yvonne merely stood beside her.
“Did you enjoy the display?” Casmir said.
“Yes.”
“You don’t sound impressed.”
“It’s just a show. Are we going to the planet yet?”
“Yes. I expect we’ll be there in a few standard weeks.”
“Weeks? Aren’t we just going to jump to the planet?”
“No,” Yvonne said. “We don’t understand the controls well enough, yet, and we don’t want to make a mistake at this point. After we really understand the system, maybe we’ll be able to make that kind of jump comfortably. Maybe the UG would take that kind of chance, but right now we’ll do it the old way—and intrasystem travel is different from Star Drive travel.”
“I know that, Mother.”
“So it will be a few standard weeks.”
Casmir stifled a smile at the sound of the word mother. Until just recently, Yvonne had been Mama, and he had been Papa, but Deidra was growing up, and now those terms were occasionally becoming too young for her.
“What can I do?” Deidra said to him.
“Is your schoolwork done?”
Her face clouded. “It will be.”
Casmir gave her a warning glance.
“I want to be a part of the landing, Father. Schoolwork can happen anytime. We’re only going to land once.”
Casmir felt the attention of the room. People were watching him now—which was good. That meant they were watching Deidra, too, and he was pleased to see her respond to that pressure in a way he recognized, sensing it and working with it.
He felt the attention of another young woman, too.
Katriana Martinez stood at the navigation panel, absorbing the situation with that same sharp-eyed expression he had seen earlier.
“Well, Deidra,” he replied, raising his voice to ensure people throughout the bridge area could hear. “Your schoolwork is important, but I agree with you. If you want to formally join the movement, now is the best time.”
Deidra’s eyes sparkled. “What can I do?”
Casmir pursed his lips.
“Ms. Martinez?”
“Sir?”
“Would you be willing to help this young woman learn something?”
Her hesitation was brief, noticeable only because Casmir had been paying attention—a hesitation that he thought he liked. That pause said she was thinking through the situation, and that thinking said she had seen multiple options and selected the one she thought best.
“I would be happy to,” Martinez said.
“Commander Keyes, make sure we get this new U3 recruit adequately apprenticed to the nav group, where perhaps her first exercise could be to witness the coordinate adjustments as Officer Martinez is working with them. Perhaps she can help your navigation commander ensure we make a clean approach to Atropos.”
Keyes glanced to Martinez.
She seemed to be pleased.
“I can do that, sir,” Martinez replied. “May we wait to begin until we get on intersystem guidance? That should be in a few hours. I need to concentrate until we are certain of that status.”
“That would be excellent,” Casmir said, liking Martinez more each moment. “Most excellent.”
Deidra nearly shimmered with anticipation.
He continued speaking to both Martinez and Keyes. “Please know, however, she is to be treated just like any other cadet. She succeeds or fails on her own merit, just as we all have.”
“Aye, sir,” Keyes replied. “I understand.”
“It’s settled, then.”
Casmir turned to his daughter. “You’ll start working in navigation.”
Her smile was almost as dazzling as the show Icarus had put on a moment ago.
“However,” he continued, “as your mother said, we have weeks to prepare. So tonight it’s homework for you. You can start working with our navigation specialist tomorrow.”
Martinez was clearly pleased with the further delay, and Casmir was impressed that the roll of Deidra’s eyes was nearly nonexistent.
With time to wait, Yvonne took Deidra off the bridge to get their personal items properly stored in her compartment.
Casmir went to Martinez.
“I meant what I said. Of course I want to hear how she’s doing, but she succeeds or fails on her own. I expect you to hold her accountable for more than her name.”
Martinez nodded. “Thank you, sir. That’s what I would expect of you.”
Casmir smiled, and turned, going to his own display of the local star map and adjusting it to show only Eta Cassiopeia and her four primary planets. It was an exciting system, fresh and pristine, open for them to set up the truly free society he always dreamed of. He glanced at the image of Atropos with its flickering screen of data.
Icarus would arrive at Atropos first and would manage the landing plans. Einstein would come later, after it had finished its work jumping back and forth to pull more Universe Three people out of the Solar System, starting with Io and Europa, then moving to smaller outposts where U3 operatives would gather in predefined locations to be extracted, and finally focusing on individual agents who had gone undercover and who were now holed up in safe houses and wayward hiding spots across the Solar System to avoid what would almost certainly be one of the more intense manhunts in human history.
Universe Three owed those people a rescue trip, and Casmir meant to make good on that debt. He and Gregor had been working on that part of the plan for years, setting aside funds to pay for alternate identifications, and to create urban safe houses in places no one would ever bother to look. The organization would pick them up in individual operations when the time was proper.
The crew, however, wasn’t as familiar with the precision of the Star Drive navigation as they needed to be, so the process would be slow. Einstein would jump to coordinates they knew as safe, then motor on standard impulse to position themselves for rescue operations. Once on site, they would take on operatives, then jump immediately back to safety, hopefully before the UG could find them and run their own operation. So, yes, the rescue op would take time, but it would happen, and with luck it would happen more rapidly as they learned more about how to control the jump process.
Casmir stepped to Gregor’s side and slid into a chair next to him.
His friend glanced his way, then took in the rest of the bridge.
Gregor’s son was down working with Commander Nassir.
“He’s a good boy,” Casmir said.
“He’s doing all right, I think,” Gregor replied in his usual understated fashion.
Casmir patted his friend on the forearm and leaned back to glance out the observation window before turning to watch the crew chart their course.
As th
e younger Anderson worked, Casmir recalled how he and Gregor decided to take up Perigee’s cause after she had been killed. He thought about Deidra working with Martinez. That was the way of it, wasn’t it? The job was never really done, but the living and the young pick up after the dying and the old. Try as you might, a society was not a single life and a single life was not a society.
He suddenly felt tired.
“Life moves on, doesn’t it?” Gregor said as he watched his son work.
“It does,” Casmir replied. “But perhaps we can keep it from leaving us behind too soon, eh?”
He sat there with Gregor for a long time, looking into the expanse of space, considering for the first time ever what it meant that he might actually live to see a time when his people were able to live in true freedom, a time when Universe Three might finally have its own home.
CHAPTER 19
Chicago, Illinois
Local Solar Date: March 15, 2206
Local Solar Time: 1115 Hours
The notice popped up in Paul Kane’s holo view. His senses jumped to full alert. Chief Intel Officer Matz wanted to talk to him.
He glanced at the time and gave one of his instinctive grimaces that was just a flicker of a reaction, a rising of the left corner of his mouth into a tight curl for that briefest of instants before it settled back to a straight-lipped expression of neutrality. He had grown this stoic form of expressing displeasure back when he played schoolyard lacrosse, back when the coaches made you pay for any outward display of emotion with laps. It was successful enough that pretty soon he was using it with his parents, his teachers, and his friends. The expression worked for him. It kept him on an even keel when he had to absorb defeat and gave his brain a few moments to spin up a defense.
The note from Matz hung there in his display until he dismissed it.
This wasn’t good.
The Mars strike force had been misdirected. It missed the primary target and spent its force against a useless decoy. While that wasn’t completely his fault, so much shit was going on right now that he couldn’t predict what was going to happen next.
