Only when Greg was satisfied everything they needed to do on the surface had been done, did the flight group return to his ship. Over dinner he brought up the question he had been brooding over since his return. “Myra, please explain the 86 parked on the asteroid.”
“Actually, Katherine should explain,” Myra suggested.
“Probably it would be better if he listened to the recording,” Katherine hedged.
“Monsieur Greg,” Monique said, “we were in zzis together. It would be best if you listened first and zzen we talked about it.” Angelina nodded her agreement.
Blondie held her hands out and said, “I was moving houses.”
Katherine instructed the computer. “Start at 0800. Leave out pauses longer than ten seconds.”
The recording started. Myra’s voice said, “Unidentified craft entering the system in Sector seven, please identify yourself.” The message was repeated half a dozen times.
Myra’s voice, “Unidentified craft, you have entered a restricted system. Your presence is not authorized.”
Myra’s voice, “Unidentified craft, you have entered a restricted system. This is Lt. Myrakova, Federation Space Force Pirate Interdiction Task Force. Stand down, and prepare to be boarded.”
A man’s voice, “Shut up bitch, I don’t have to take no orders from no woman.”
Katherine paused the recording. “By this time we had him in visual. He parked off the cargo ship’s port bow.”
She restarted the recording.
Myra’s voice, “Unidentified Valiant Model 86 Scout stand down and be boarded or I will be obliged to fire on you.”
The man’s voice, American, Southern, “Ah ain’t no wimp you can push around, woman. Why ain’t you home where you belong?”
Katherine paused the recording again. “He lit Myra’s ship with his targeting radar.”
She restarted the recording.
Myra’s voice, “Acknowledge that you have initiated hostile action by activating your targeting radar.”
The man’s voice, “Look, you think one lonely woman in a little scout ship is going to scare me, I a-am here to claim this here system for settlement. Why don’t you go home where you belong with your man barefoot and pregnant? You know sweetheart, your job is making babies. My job is out here with the big boys. Besides you think one little woman is going to make me run. Get real.”
Myra’s voice, “Hey, little man, you got a name?”
The man’s voice, “I don’t gotta tell ya, bitch.”
Greg interrupted, “I hope you didn’t blow him away because he insulted you.”
“Now would I do that?” Myra retorted.
“Yes,” Greg answered.
“Hush, the both of you,” Katherine scolded.
Myra’s voice, “I want to be able to tell your momma after I kill you how you died. Besides under the Geneva Convention and Federation regulations you do. Pirates identify themselves. Even Swordsmen identify themselves. Tell me your name unless you want to die anonymously.”
The man’s voice, “Bryan Jennings Williams.”
Katherine’s voice, “Myra, don’t splash him. Greg would rather we took him and his ship alive.”
Katherine stopped the recording, “Myra lit him with her targeting radar. I was concerned if she hit him with a missile at that range the debris would hit us.”
Greg nodded his agreement. “Good call.” Katherine restarted the recording.
The man’s voice, “That’s right, you don’t want to splash me, now do you. I have something hot waiting for you right here.”
Katherine stopped the recording, “He fired a single missile at Myra, and she lasered it.”
She restarted the recording.
Myra’s voice, “Listen, you can either live or you can die. You are dealing with a fully armed Space Force P I ship. By myself, I have enough firepower to eliminate all your missiles and have enough left over for two more soda crackers like you. You fired on me. You are now fair game. If you run, we will shoot you down. If you fire again, we will shoot you down. Understand?”
The man’s voice, mockingly, “But Myra, Greg wants me alive.”
Myra’s voice, “Not really. He wants the ship. He doesn’t give a shit about you. Now, let me explain the situation. You know I’m at your twelve o’clock nose to nose with you. While you were running your mouth, one of my friends in an 86 like yours took up a position directly over your head and slightly forward of you. Two more of my friends in a destroyer that used to be a pirate took a position astern of you. You can surrender or you can die. It’s your choice.”
The man’s voice, “You ain’t no threat to me!”
Myra’s voice, “Monique, is this guy one of yours?”
Monique’s voice, “No pirate would be this stupid. Besides what kind of name is Byron?”
Katherine’s voice, “Redneck Swordsman.”
Myra’s voice, “Boy, are you a Swordsman? Our pirate friends say you’re not one of theirs.”
Katherine’s voice, “Can’t you tell by the emblems on his wings?”
Myra’s voice, “That’s right, no pirate would stoop so low as to masquerade as a Swordsman. They’re better than that.”
Katherine’s voice, “Hey Byron, are you a cowboy? A rootin’ tootin’ six gun shootin’ cowboy?”
The man’s voice, “So what if I am?”
Katherine’s voice, “Do you know why cowboys are such lousy lovers?”
Myra’s voice, sounding scandalized, “No! Do tell!”
Katherine’s voice, “Because they think eight seconds is a long ride!”
The women laughed, and the man snarled.
Katherine’s voice, suddenly calm, “Myra, you know this model of the 86 has the reactor shut off switch mounted behind the pilot’s view-port. I can probably laser it from here and shut down his reactor. He should have a couple of days of life support but he won’t be able to flee.”
Myra’s voice, “Well Byron, I guess that’s it. My friend is going to drill a tiny little hole in your shell with her laser and shut down your reactor. How do you feel about that?”
The man’s voice, “It’s Bryan and take that, you bitch!”
Katherine stopped the recording. “He fired again, and Myra lasered it again. He had now used up half his missiles. I was surprised he hadn’t tried his laser yet.” She restarted the recording.
Katherine’s voice, “It’s gonna be one teeny tiny little hole. Just like the dentist.” There was a pause. “Oh my God! I didn’t mean to!”
Myra’s voice, “Judging by the looks of things, you missed. What did you hit?”
Katherine’s voice, “The view-port. It blew apart.”
Myra’s voice, “It’s an 86. They do that. The good news is that he probably didn’t feel a thing. The bad news is that he’s probably splattered all over the inside of the flight deck, and the reactor is still on. We need to shut it down.”
Katherine’s voice, “I made this mess I should clean it up.”
Angelina’s voice, “Katherine, I will help you.”
Katherine’s voice, “Thank you.”
Katherine stopped the recording. “I screwed up, big time.”
Greg was pensive for a while and said, “None of you were hurt, and that’s the main thing. Yes, I would have preferred taking him alive, but having another ship is not bad. I can’t believe you teased him so much. He could have been a lot more dangerous angry than calm.”
Myra paused before responding, “My experience with men is exactly the opposite. When they’re angry they get stupid. We wanted stupid so we could sneak up behind him and board. He wasn’t giving us the opportunity.”
“I understand,” Greg said. He paused, “Katherine, was the first time you have killed someone?”
“Yes.”
“Have you dealt with your feelings about killing?”
“Yes, I have. When I cleaned out his ship.”
“I have other concerns,” Greg said. “Myra, I am surprise
d you put yourself in line of his laser. We know an 86 has limited targeting capability with its laser, but you were in the direct line of fire. You exposed yourself to unnecessary risk.”
“I wasn’t actually nose to nose. I had the underside of my ship exposed. The heat shield would take the hit. I was watching through a camera once he came into range.”
“Did we ever figure out why he did not use his laser?”
“No.”
“Katherine, can you work with the computer and program this scenario as a simulation?”
“Certainly.”
“Good, we should learn from this. Have the computer run all the options of what could have gone wrong, especially including what would have happened had he tried to laser one of you.”
Katherine smiled, excited, “You mean I get to write one of your games?”
Greg paused, bemused, “Yeah, is it a big deal?”
“Oh, yes,” everyone said together.
Greg smiled. “If I had realized you wanted to write the games, I would have let you ages ago. Computer! Command Mode!”
“Aye Sir.”
“Authorize all parties present and any others authorized by them to script and edit any new combat simulations they desire. Existing games including mine, may be edited with the addition of new scenarios, options, weapons, personnel and equipment, but no game, once started, may be deleted.”
“Aye, Sir.”
Greg turned to the women, “Go for it! I expect this will get competitive as to who can produce the best game. I don’t want you sabotaging each other’s games. Which is why games can’t be deleted. A game that doesn’t work is a better starting place than creating one from the beginning. Understood?”
There were nods and smiles all around.
Greg continued, “I have other business I need to bring to the group. May I continue?”
Several registered surprise that Greg would ask for permission to do anything given that he had long ago established command. “I think we should bring Helen up from the surface,” he said.
“You looking to get laid? One of us – deviates – not good enough for you?” Blondie sneered.
Katherine leaned across the table and slapped her across the face.
As soon as Blondie brought her head back around from the force of the slap, she attacked again, “I’m sure if you wanted a friendly poke any of us would have obliged you!”
Katherine drew back to hit her again, but Greg grabbed her hand. Katherine’s face was bright red from the force of her anger. The rest were paralyzed in shock. Greg gently put both of his hands around Katherine’s and touched her hand to his lips.
“Let it go. I have offended her and hurt her. No apology will ever change that. Unresolved anger is a poison, and it has been eating at her for a long time. I know she is angry, and I understand. Why do you think I assigned you the way I did especially since Blondie has the most experience in an 86? Katherine, I mean no disrespect, but I think had Blondie been at the helm, our obnoxious fly-boy might not have died. That was my mistake. I feared her anger would have made her do something stupid. Was I right or wrong? Blondie, would you have told Myra to back off or splashed him yourself?”
Blondie thought for a second, as the finger marks from Katherine’s slap turned bright red. “I would have splashed him. No question.”
“I guess,” Greg continued. “I did make the right decision. Back to the subject at hand. We must always be able to speak openly without recriminations. We need to be free to express unpopular ideas.”
“Monsieur Greg?” Monique interrupted, “What is this word ‘recrimination’?”
“It means getting slapped across the face for saying what we believe.”
“Ah, bon, c’est vrai. I agree. Why is she mad wizz you?”
“When we first connected with Myra after our voyage from Earth, I called the settlers misfits and deviates. I lost my temper and said things I regret.”
Angelina whispered in Monique’s ear. Monique whispered back. Angelina blushed. No words were needed to interpret what had passed between them.
Monique looked at the others, “With all due respect, Monsieur Greg, we are all of us misfits or deviates or we would not be here. We would be on a planet making happy babies and working regular jobs. I have great respect for you, more than I had for my fath-air, but you are not what we would call normal either.”
Greg laughed, “Let me hear an Amen for that!”
“So, Monsieur Greg, why do you want to bring Helen up here wizz us?” Angelina asked.
“I want you to teach her to fly because we are short flight crews, and I want her to teach you hand-to-hand combat. She is miserable dirt-side and bringing her up here would help her.”
“Is ziss the same Helen who killed my hus-band?” Angelina asked.
“Yes,” Greg answered softly, suddenly realizing he might be making a huge mistake.
“She will teach us?” Angelina asked.
“Happily, I believe,” Greg said.
“She has much to teach,” Angelina said. “I forgive her for killing my hus-band. I will find anozzer.”
Blondie said, “May I be the one to go get her? I owe her an apology on another matter. This will be a good way to make amends.”
“How about a vote? All in favor say Aye!”
“Aye!” Even the computer voted which drew a laugh.
“All opposed!”
There was silence.
“Motion carries. Next order of business. Myra, Dr. Miller gave me an extensive shopping list. Since you are the one with access to the bank accounts, you should go shopping. Instead of schlepping all the way here, send a courier missile. We’ll leave the beacon on. While we are at it, I need a couple dozen courier missiles and a hundred or so of these with standard Federation Postal Service mailing boxes.” Greg handed her a data module. “Further instructions are on the module,” he added.
Myra looked at the data module and then at Greg. “May I ask why?”
“Mark’s unauthorized history of the church is about to become a best seller. We are going to tie all our ships’ computers together and link to Bridgette on the surface. We are going to create the most realistic combat simulator anyone has ever seen for the wide array of hand-held devices and personal data assistants in use now and for the foreseeable future. We are going to make the movie Linda and George are working on and as soon as I figure out how to get paid for all this, we will be able to finance the future growth of this community.”
There was stunned silence. This was the first time that Greg had publicly committed himself to the community’s future. The unspoken fear that he might take his ship and flee was finally laid to rest. He had always done what needed to be done for the refugees, but there had been lingering doubt as to his commitment. The doubt could be relegated to history.
The ship’s computer broke the silence, “Communication between all ship-board computer systems is verified. Communication with Bridgette Carson’s personal workstation is verified. Communication with all personal workstations on the planet’s surface is verified.”
“I didn’t know you could do that!” Greg exclaimed.
“There are lots of things I can do you don’t know.”
Myra hopped out of her chair with the data module gripped firmly in her hand and bounced over to Greg. She bounded into his lap and said, “Hug for luck!” She kissed him and bounced away racing as fast as she could in the direction of her ship.
“Sam and I should do a damage assessment on that 86,” Brownie offered.
“Good idea,” Greg replied. “It’s been a tough evening. Everything I have to do can wait for morning. I’m turning in.”
“Um, gang,” Blondie said. “If you don’t mind, I would like to get Helen now. I would feel better not waiting.” She got up and left.
Greg whistled a few bars of “Good Night Ladies” as he wandered off to bed, leaving the others chatting at the table.
HOMESTEAD - CHAPTER FOURTEEN
&n
bsp; HELEN LEARNED TO FLY faster than the others learned hand-to-hand combat. She understood the strategies used in the simulations and quickly absorbed the tactics of combat in space. The difference in how objects moved in a vacuum as opposed to in the atmosphere became second nature to her. Perhaps more than the others, she understood why killing in the relative impersonal distance of space was so different from killing face to face. She had assimilated the experience of killing Angelina’s husband, a man with a face, a name and a family, but found no peace in the knowledge. Even so, she knew if she were faced with the same situation again she would do again as he had done before.
The idea of swapping the landing gear on the two shuttles turned out to be impractical. The parts could be removed, but once on the planet’s surface, they would be too heavy to manipulate. It looked as if Blondie’s shuttle was going to be permanently grounded. Greg was standing under the “up on blocks in the front yard” shuttle obstinately, desperately, trying to figure out how to get the shuttle off the ground again when David wandered by.
“You know,” he said, “if we cut six containers in half and bolt them together we can make a barge big enough to float this monster. We can haul it to that lake you used last winter and maybe once the lake freezes over, it can take off on its belly.”
“A barge three hundred meters long? Greg asked.
“One hundred meters would do it. We only need to pick the ship up near its center of gravity.”
“How wide?”
“Perhaps twenty meters wide and three meters deep.”
“What would we tow it with?” Greg asked.
“That little cargo tug,” David answered. “We could weld a prow on the containers to make a barge so it doesn’t pull down or swamp and you would have to go slow to keep the shuttle from bouncing out, but you could get it to the lake before the cold weather hit.”
Solomon Family Warriors II Page 13
