Rebuilt: A Jake Dani/Mike Shapeck Novel (Jake Dani / Mike Shapeck)

by Victory Crayne

  “As long as they’re reserved for me.”

  That got a big smile from me. Her too.

  “I’ve been meaning to talk with you,” she added. She pulled up a chair beside my bed.

  Not a good sign.

  She placed her hand on mine. Another bad sign.

  “Mike, I think it’s time you slowed down. You have a good team in place. There is no need for you to go on every op.”

  She paused.

  “Like a frickin’ cowboy.”

  Chapter 69

  Sheila Fish reported from the Channel One newsroom.

  “Ash Getner is recovering at Gerges Hospital. Four men from the York Federal Police will stand guard outside his room and another two inside. Special Prosecutor Curling was not about to let someone get to him before the trial, especially someone from the angry public.

  “The leader of the troops used in the coup was Lieutenant General Leon Petrovsky. He was charged with spying. Part of the reason was his wearing the uniform of the York Army, instead of appearing in his native Russian uniform.

  “Both Getner and Petrovsky will stand trial.

  “Over half of the Russian troops in the coup requested asylum on Rossa. They didn’t want to go back to Earth and face possible trial and sentences in Siberia. I interviewed six of them and they said there was too much bribery and corruption at the top. They appealed to the prime minister of York.

  “Nikki Su said the Russian soldiers who chose to stay could remain only after standing trial. She would recommend they serve three years in Satchell Prison. The public would demand nothing less.”

  The view changed to show a young soldier with blond hair and light blue eyes. When he turned his head to the right, the large reddish birthmark on the left side of this face appeared. He spoke in broken Amerish and read from his comm.

  “My name is Jan Olafkowsky, corporal in Russian Army. I choose to stay on Rossa, even though this means I will spend three years in prison.

  “I hope to bring my small family to Rossa to live in far northern part of York. I liked my brief stay at Fairport Base. But every time I gazed at the snow on Orca Mountains, I got homesick for my native Murmansk. I could send only one email back to my wife during my brief stay at the base.

  “I knew little of my mission while on Rossa. Only that it involved hazard pay I sent home to Greta. After I chose to stay on Rossa, Russian government stopped my pay as a soldier.”

  Sheila’s face appeared next.

  “An anonymous donor has paid for Jan’s wife and son to come to Rossa and stay with the donor until Jan is released. Those Russian soldiers who returned to Earth continued to receive pay. After all, they were still in the army.”

  Jan’s face came back and he bowed his head.

  “I was allowed to send one email during my trial. I told Greta I loved her and miss her and our son Yerko very much.”

  Sheila reported next.

  “None of the Russian soldiers were allowed bail. The judge said that their time served in jail during the trial would count as part of their sentence.”

  Jan spoke next.

  “I hate the prospect of three years in Satchell Prison after my part in the failed coup. But at least I can send emails every week. When I get out, I hope to get job as park ranger in one of national parks of York. I heard York Park Service has difficulty getting people for parks in the north.”

  Sheila continued, “It’s dangerous work, being a park ranger and working with the wild greepers.”

  The view changed to show two of the animals in the Zor Zoo.

  “The polar greepers who live in the far north bear white fur and are smaller than their cousins to the south. Most polar greepers weigh around one ton in the spring when they come out of hibernation. They are also hungry and can be aggressive.”

  The view changed to show Jan Olafkowsky again.

  “I hope to save money from my job and repay my generous donor. Yerko would be five years old then. Every time I think of staying away so long from my family, I get depressed. But duty is duty. I can soldier on if I know it will come out all right in the end.”

  Two hours later, Sheila Fish reported a new development.

  “Stan Curling, the new head of the York Security Agency, reported that he had read the secret and personal files of Ash Getner. Getner was the former head of YSA and the leader of coup to overturn the legitimate prime ministership of Nikki Su. Mr. Getner had planned to void the Alcott-Gortush treaty and declare war against the mercons to help solidify support for his regime. This was a ploy proved effective by many dictators before him. Getner had planned to suggest the mercons had started the war and his troops were only responding.”

  She looked into the camera.

  “Of course, that never came to be. Getner’s coup failed. Mr. Curling also reported that Ash Getner had an execution list. Names on that list included Nikki Su, Stan Curling, and myself, Sheila Fish. Because that information was available to the Special Prosecutor, it will be used at Getner’s trial.”

  #

  Gliituk viewed that broadcast and shook his head. As ambassador for the mercon government in Ensam to the government of York, Gliituk had a staff member watch every newscast that mentioned his name, the mercons, BIS, or Ash Getner.

  He glanced at his bright orange cape.

  I’m getting bored with the same clothing. Was that another sign it might be time to retire? Let Eaatan pick a new ambassador to the humans.

  Eeatan was the leader of the bemanders.

  Gliituk knew something was up but was surprised when the coup started. He also wondered if the BIS organization of Jake Dani had anything to do with the Getner’s downfall. He had not heard anything from Mike Shapeck.

  Guess that will have to wait until I hear from the spy organization.

  After he sent it, he pressed the button for his chief of intelligence. He spoke in the mercon language.

  “Tettar, please come to my office as soon as you can. Bring information on the military build-up of the bemanders.”

  The bemanders were the liberal party. Every few years, civil war broke out between the skolanders, the more conservative party, and the bemanders. The last civil war had used nuclear weapons and had rendered their home planet hostile to life. The only remaining mercons now lived on the far side of the moon of Durr, named Triina, and on the eastern end of the island continent of Braco in the nation called Ensam. The mercons in Ensam were preparing for another civil war.

  Gliituk shook his head.

  When will we learn that civil wars don’t solve anything?

  The overwhelming tendency of mercons to give birth to twins, triplets, and even sometimes quadruplets, meant the mercons were already crowding for space. And such crowding always meant war was not far off.

  Here we go again.

  Chapter 70

  Dr. Setterlyn barely left after her daily check on me when I got a surprise visit from my daughter. Her long hair was straight and she had on jogging clothes─gray sweatpants, gray long-sleeved sweatshirt with the University of Zor logo.

  The first words out of her mouth were, “Dad! I just got word. Are you feeling okay?”

  “Why is it everybody asks me that?”

  “Because we care about you,” she replied. “I’m staying with Gancha until she finishes building her new house. She has already invited me to live with her. It will seem like old times, living with you and her. Have you given any more thought to her wanting to be a mother again?”

  “Whoa! One thing at a time. Let me get out of here first.”

  #

  Lying still on a bed with only the occasional visitor and the telly to keep me company left a lot of time for good ol’ thinking.

  I know from my research that labs on Earth have developed ways to change genes to enable a longer life. They recommended plenty of exercise. A half-hour a day was simply not enough. I read, “We are animals and might as well get used to it. We need physical exercise to live a longer life.”

>   From Acorn, I learned BIS agents experienced a surge in cortisol, the stress hormone, whenever they went on operations. That shortened our lives. But since we knew we could die on each op, we didn’t care.

  What’s the point of living longer if you can’t do what you want to do?

  Living a life to please someone else is not motivating enough for me, or anyone. And I need to plan my life’s actions to live a long time.

  Those who are trapped into lives to please their parents, or being “normal”, are really trapped. They don’t think they can behave to satisfy their own interests. They don’t even know what their personal interests are. They’ve been so programmed by the time they were five years old, or by the time they left high school, that any personal interests have been buried a long time ago.

  Those few who think for themselves have learned how to provide their own motivation.

  We are called ‘outliers’ and often have to function despite the pressure of others to behave in a more normal way.

  That’s life. We might as well face the reality and accept being outliers.

  I enjoy being a BIS agent. It’s what I am cut out to do. I can’t think of doing anything else. But how I do it can change. Must change.

  Damn! I’m getting more like Acorn every day.

  Gancha was right. As usual.

  I need to follow the advice of Acorn, my team, and my daughter. I had to slow down and let others do more of the work.

  The question for me was when. Now was a good time. I couldn’t help much with a bad heart. Everyone would worry about me and focus less on their jobs.

  Then Gancha laid another one on me.

  “Mike, don’t micromanage.”

  Ouch!

  That woman had a knack for spotting my weaknesses.

  When Vincent came into my room, I asked him.

  “Vin, do I micromanage?”

  He didn’t reply.

  Which was a big answer in itself.

  When I was fully rested and feeling a bit like myself, who should walk in my door but my daughter?

  “Dad!”

  She rushed up to me and put her arms around my torso. Not an easy task while I was lying down. At least I didn’t have the damn breathing mask to contend with.

  “And what do I owe this visit to?”

  I must have grinned because she smiled back as she took her seat in my only guest chair. Then I noticed Gancha standing behind her.

  Alena said, “I saw you on the news. You’re the guy who brought down Ash Getner. You’re a hero!”

  I glanced at Gancha, who merely shrugged her shoulders and raised her eyebrows.

  “I got it all on my comm. Care to see it?” asked my daughter.

  “You bet.”

  She pressed a few buttons on her comm and we touched them to download the vid. She pressed a few buttons and turned to the overhead telly. In seconds, her recording came on.

  Sure enough. I saw a vid of a prone man being carried out of the federal building and into an ambulance. The male reporter turned to face the camera.

  “This is the man who shot Ash Getner and put handcuffs on him.”

  Prime Minister Su came on next and said, “All I have is his first name, Mike. I’m sure the hospital will provide more information. One thing for sure, though. I want to give this man the highest medal in our nation, the York Medal of Honor.”

  The telly went blank. That was it.

  “How the hell did I miss that?”

  Alena just sat.

  “I think you slept. Here.”

  Then she sported a big grin.

  “My dad is going to be famous!”

  There went any chance of my going to ops. My gaze went to Gancha’s face. But she nodded slowly.

  Dr. Setterlyn came to visit on my third day.

  “No mask? Are you feeling okay?”

  “Doc, I heal much faster than most folks. I gave up the oxygen mask yesterday. Don’t need it. I can breathe fine without it.”

  “We’ll see by the MRI. I was going to have you take one on your ninth day, but if you’re feeling up to it, I can schedule it for tomorrow.”

  I nodded as best I could lying down.

  “Tomorrow would be fine.”

  Chapter 71

  I thought of my life. Couldn’t do much else, lying on my back here. My mind kept wandering back to thoughts of how I want to spend my remaining years.

  Gancha’s recommending I slow down kept bugging me. Something told me she was right. I realized I couldn’t make much difference in the long run. But I could affect the lives of millions of people through BIS. Maybe it was time to back off going on every op. My team was good and it was time to depend on them more. They would respond to my trust.

  I had just finished lunch and was looking forward to another nap when I heard noises from the hallway through my closed door. Then the door opened and in burst several tall men in suits, followed by a short woman, two tall guys, two cameramen, and a taller woman.

  The photographers wasted no time and took my picture while I was still lying down. I raised my left hand to block their view but it was too late. I recognized only one of them, the short woman. Nikki Su, the prime minister of York.

  She came up to the right side of my bed.

  “How are you feeling today?”

  Why is it that most people ask me that when they meet me?

  “I’m fine. At least I was until your group barged into my room.”

  “Sorry about that. I want to give you a medal for taking down Getner. You saved our government. I want to give you the York Medal of Honor, our highest medal.”

  I was worried about that. It seemed natural she would offer it.

  “Sorry, but I can’t.”

  Surprised at my response, she frowned and asked, “Why not? This would help your business of private investigations.”

  The mention of my cover occupation reminded me of Acorn.

  “It would mean I couldn’t tail anybody or watch from a distance.”

  She pursed her lips.

  “But with your fame, you could charge higher prices and hire someone else to do that part.”

  Makes sense. Oh dear. This was going to be harder than I thought.

  “I still don’t want it.”

  “Last chance. If I walk out of here, it’s no go.”

  I nodded.

  “My mind’s made up. Have a nice day, madam Prime Minister.”

  She shook her head. But she turned and left, taking her secret service detail and most of the reporters with her.

  Only two people remained. One guy and the taller woman. The guy kept the right side of his face hidden behind a small camera.

  The woman came to my bedside and extended her hand. I recognized her, as would any healthy male who ever watched Channel One News.

  “I’m Sheila Fish.”

  We shook hands. Well, I extended my left and she shook it with her right.

  “I recognized you from your newscasts.”

  “I’m curious as to why you would refuse.”

  Why? Because being famous would hurt my going on operations as a spy.

  But I couldn’t tell her that. So I shook my head.

  “I have my reasons. Personal.”

  “You’re going to be famous anyway. Nobody ever refused the Medal of Honor.”

  “’Till now.”

  That evening, I watched myself on Channel One. A close-up of my face appeared on the topic “Hero refuses Medal of Honor.” The words of my short speech with the prime minister appeared.

  When I saw my face from the prone position, I had only one thought.

  Crap!

  Next came the vid of my talk with Sheila.

  My reclined pose appeared on several websites.

  Double crap.

  I watched as General Carl Adon received his York Medal of Honor. Impressive guy. And an impressive ceremony.

  The next day, I received a message from Acorn.

  “Applaud decision t
o reject medal. You are becoming more planet-wide station chief every day.”

  Well, at least one person understands.

  #

  Like everyone else I knew, I watched the public trails of Getner and Petrovsky on Channel One. Getner remained quiet and did not testify on his behalf. The big event lasted three days and was broadcast on all four stations. The jury debated only two hours before returning their verdict of ‘guilty.’

  They both received the maximum sentence for treason. Death by firing squad.

  I suspect the judge, prosecutor, and the citizens of Zor were anxious to put this behind them.

  Sheila reported, “Ash Getner’s and Leon Petrovsky’s ashes will be returned to Earth for burial. Recordings of the trial and convictions will be sent to the rejuv center on Earth where Getner had a template made. That copy will be deleted.

  “The Russian government said Petrovsky’s ashes will be handed over to his parents. There was some debate about where to send Getner’s ashes but the American government said they will be turned over to his parents.”

  After the verdicts came, Sheila ended her broadcast by saying, “Jan Olafkowsky and the other Russian soldiers who elected to stay on our planet began serving their sentences at Satchell Prison.”

  I met Dr. Setterlyn in the hallway. Two male orderlies walked by my sides as I strode the corridor.

  “Whoa! Are you feeling okay? Most people don’t walk for a least a week after what you’ve gone through.”

  I looked her in the face.

  “I’m fine. How soon can I get outta here?”

  “From the looks of your heart on the MRI, the chances of your having a repeat heart attack are down. As I said before, the first seven days are critical. A lot of patients have a second attack by the seventh day and die. Your heart looks much better. Not perfect but fine enough for me to sign your discharge as you requested. As long as you promise to take it easy for the next couple a weeks.”

  “Right. Take it easy for two weeks. Got it.”

  She looked as stern as she could.

  “That means no heavy exercise or stress.”

  I nodded.

  “Now can I get out of here? This place is creeping up on me.”