(USS Saratoga, September 2064)
McQueen stepped into the office, to find the rest of his office
mates watching TV. Shane still had her arm in a sling, she still
wasn’t supposed to move her shoulder too much. But she
looked a lot better this morning, especially since Dr.
O’Leary had released her to return to light duty and she
could at least make herself useful catching up the paperwork. She
waved him inside. “Check out CNN! It should be coming up
again here in a minute.”
“What should--”
“The Wolfe Pack busted out Bad John.”
“You’re kidding.” He pulled his chair over and
logged onto his terminal, but kept an eye out for the news story
to come up again. It turned out John Waite had been in court to
testify to a grand jury regarding what he’d seen on Vesta
and the deal the Wolfe Pack had with Aerotech. He’d refused
to name his accomplices, although of course Danny Wolfe had been
identified from the 5-8’s reports and they had descriptions
of the others. Although the testimony Waite had given was still
sealed, McQueen figured he’d told plenty about what
he’d seen down in the mine and about Aerotech’s orders
regarding Amy.
However, on his way back to prison, an SA-43 with Aerotech colors
had forced the prison van off the road, and a similarly marked
ISSCV had taken John off the van. Only one guard had been
seriously injured -- though not killed -- and that one had been
attempting to carry out orders to shoot John rather than allow
him to escape. The guards’ descriptions of the SA-43 pilot
matched Danny.
McQueen knew John deserved to be punished for the bombing, but on
the other hand, he wasn’t sorry that Waite had testified
against Aerotech and escaped with his skin. Also, he had to
admire the way Danny had pulled off that operation, with minimal
damage and no loss of life. There had been a very practical
reason for arranging things that way. It was highly unlikely the
fleet would be ordered to search for the Wolfe Pack, since no
lives had been lost and they hadn’t taken any government
property. It was still the business of the Department of Justice
to bring them in. Of course, they would have Aerotech to contend
with. If Danny had any sense, he and his people were halfway
through a wormhole to some out-of-the-way system by now, where
they would lie low for a good long time.
*****
He hadn’t any more than stepped onto the bridge when Ross
quietly motioned him into his office. The Commodore shut the
hatch. “Have you heard the news?”
“Just now in the office.” McQueen couldn’t quite
suppress a grin.
Ross returned it. “I would like to have seen the look on
those Aerotech boys’ faces when Danny used some of their own
planes to spring John Waite! You all are going to the JFK
to testify before that grand jury by telepresence. Before this is
over, you personally will probably end up back on Earth
testifying before a General Assembly subcommittee.” He
scowled. “Have you and Shane ever been in any way ... uh,
indiscreet? I’m not saying anything, but if there’s any
chance there could be a scandal we need to be ready for it
now.”
“Not to my knowledge, sir,” he replied.
“We’ve been careful, but anything’s possible. As
far as I know, the only people aware of the situation are the
Wild Cards, Amy, and yourself.”
“Amy wouldn’t--”
“No, sir. Amy wouldn’t.”
Ross drew a deep breath and let it out. “In the meanwhile,
we need to play this really close to the vest ... and you need to
be especially careful.”
“Understood, sir.”
“I don’t just mean staying out of the sack, damn it.
Aerotech wants you dead, and the rest of the ‘Cards
aren’t far behind you. Some of the stuff I’ve been
hearing in the last week or so ... Jesus, it looks like this
thing goes back before the turn of the century! You made some
damn big enemies, Ty.
I’ll be honest with you, Danny may be a first-class son of a
bitch, but I’m glad he’s drawing some of their fire. I
had enough to worry about with the damn chigs without this on top
of it. When this is over, I hope every one of ‘em ends up in
a cell until hell freezes over. But everyone who’s tried so
far to make that happen has either ended up discredited or
dead.”
McQueen said, “It looks like I opened up a real can of worms
for you, Glen. Amy and I didn’t see this kind of trouble
coming.”
“I know that, but I’d have told you to go ahead with it
anyway even if you had...especially if you had.”
“After what I saw on Vesta, I can’t leave it alone, no
matter where it goes from here,” McQueen said.
Ross looked up at him, and his dark eyes were just as implacable.
“Neither will I, and neither will a lot of other people. A
lot of politicians jumped off on our side of the fence when
Amy’s story hit the front page. People overlooked a lot when
it was politics as usual. But Aerotech overreached their hand
when they started this war in the first place. It is not going to
be politics as usual now.”
“If they want me badly enough, sir, they’ll be able to
get to me. There aren’t a hell of a lot of places to hide on
the ’Toga. I don’t want to take you, or the
5-8, down with me if it comes to that.”
“That’s bilge, Ty, if it comes to that I know what side
I am on. You and I are not a couple of damn kids on a three day
pass carousing in Mobile any more. This is a matter of right and
wrong, what we will stand for and what we are willing to put our
lives on the line for. I swore an oath to uphold and defend the
Constitution, not some ... illegal shadow government that exists
only to make Aerotech richer. If there’s one coming over the
hill with my name on it, then by God let it find me upholding
that oath. Otherwise I would be a disgrace to the blood of all
the boys and girls that I have ordered to their deaths fighting
this war.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ross figured there was no sense worrying about things he
couldn’t help at the moment, and changed the subject.
“You can tell Shane the 5-8’s replacements are coming
in day after tomorrow. They’re supposed to have been the top
of the class at Loxley this time.”
McQueen commented, “It’s about time.”
“Stop by my quarters tonight, I should have their jackets by
then.”
*****
(USS Saratoga, September 2064)
McQueen tapped at Ross’ hatch. “Enter!” Came the
short reply from inside.
Ross was sitting behind his desk, on it rested a bottle of rum
and a nearly empty glass. McQueen had rarely seen Commodore Ross
so angry. He slammed a stack of file jackets down on the table so
hard the bottle and glass jumped. "Ty, I've got some news,
and I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm just going to show
you. Do you know Georgeanne Jeffords?"
"The name rings a bell. Gitmo, back in '52 or '53?"
"That's right. It's Brigadier General Jeffords now, thank
you very much, and I want you to look at this project she wants
us to participate in."
McQueen picked up the jacket, did a double-take of the
photograph, then opened it and started reading. Quietly he asked,
"Sir, did you get any farther than the picture?"
"I don’t know why the hell you think I’d need to!
After what they’ve put you through--!"
"Humor me," McQueen replied.
Ross glared, but he took the jacket back and started reading. He
indicated a glass and McQueen helped himself. After a moment, the
glare softened into a scowl and then to a puzzled look.
"You're the one who brought this thing in? This really is
your report?"
"That’s how it happened." McQueen stared into his
glass. "Collins and I were flying pirate suppression, it was
supposed to be a milk run. But we stumbled across their hideout,
on a rock called Macauley’s World in the Timorra
system." He told the rest of it. "I never expected to
see anything more of Marcy after that. The camp was the only
chance she had, but it was a pretty slim one.”
“So you think this is on the up and up?”
“There was something different about Marcy ... do you know
any more about General Jeffords’ project?”
“She seems to think an AI might understand the chigs better
than we do.”
“She might be right. The Stranahan AIs were able to form an
alliance with them. It’s worth a try.”
“Jeffords ‘suggested’ that I assign Marcy to you.
I was ready to tell her to go to hell and give Marcy to Crazy
Judy, if an AI can fit in anywhere it’s recon.”
“Sir, I’ve got to admit that the idea of working with
an AI every day comes as ... a surprise ... but working as my
aide will put Marcy in a position to get the data she needs. That
really is the important thing. And, on a personal level, I owe
Marcy. I pay my debts, Glen, the least I can do is look out for
her while she’s here.”
He nodded. “Well, that wasn’t the reaction I was
expecting, but if you’re okay with it, I’ll put it
through.” He pushed the remaining file jackets across the
desk. “You’ll find Marcy’s cover identity in the
top one. Jeffords doesn’t want any more people than
necessary to know what she is. The others are the 5-8’s
newbies.”
McQueen looked at each in turn. Nothing stood out about Yamauchi
or Lucas at first glance. Yamauchi was just out of college with a
major in business, Lucas had graduated from high school last
spring. Their draft numbers were their obvious incentive for
enlisting now. Nothing in the jackets gave him cause to make a
judgment about them before meeting them.
Moore’s history got his attention fast. “Guadeloupe #6
until it played out, then Halleston ... no wonder she sailed
through boot. Halleston had one hell of a reputation, I’ve
never met a survivor before.”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know ... I’ll wait until she gets
here.” He turned the last folder.
Ross said, “An AI, and Jim Avery’s boy, on the same
day. I do believe that I am getting too old for this, Ty.”
Just a few months ago, McQueen had been with Jim Avery when he
died. Both of them had been pinned under the debris of an
explosion, the only help or comfort he had been able to offer had
been his hand for Avery to grip. He could still feel the lock of
their fingers. Now here was Jim’s son, the same gray eyes
looking back at him from a photograph that could have been Jim
himself ten or twelve years ago. McQueen had owned a motorcycle
back then, he wondered if Jimmy remembered the afternoons
he’d taken him riding on the back roads around Loxley. Now
that little kid was a grown man. “You’re not the only
one, Glen.”
(Washington, DC -- September 2064)
Marcy took a stack of reports into General Jeffords’ office.
“Ma’am, here are those things you--” She stopped
when she saw the way the General was standing at her desk, her
face was pale and her hand was pressed to her middle. Marcy
dropped the papers on the credenza and rushed over.
“General! What’s wrong, do you need someone?”
She shook her head. “Get me my purse and a glass of
water.”
Quickly, Marcy did so, and watched with growing concern as the
General took a pill box out of her bag and took a liquid-gel out
of it. She bit down on it, and swiftly downed the glass of water
to wash the godawful taste out of her mouth. After a moment, the
pain eased.
Jeffords finally looked up at her. “Don’t let the cat
out of the bag on me, Marcy.”
“I don’t understand. I won’t tell anyone, if you
don’t want me to, but you should get some help. That was
bad.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve been to the doctors and
there’s nothing they can do. I was out there too long, got
exposed to every kind of chemicals and radiation in God’s
universe. I’ve had cancer for five years, it’s flared
up a couple of times and I had it treated when it did, but they
don’t know where the primary site is. This time, instead of
just reappearing in one place, it’s damn near
everywhere.”
“Oh ... no....”
“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, damn it! If I
wanted bouquets and get-well-cards, I’d have told everybody!
I just want everything to stay the same as long as it can.
General Morgan knows, and so does Colonel Penderson. I can stay
on active duty until it starts affecting my work. Usually it
doesn’t hurt like that, Marcy, but I moved wrong,
that’s all.”
Marcy nodded. “How--” She couldn’t bring herself
to ask how long, but Jeffords read it in her expression.
“The docs told me six months, more or less. I told them, at
least till the war’s over. I’m not gonna desert my
post.”
“I -- what I came to tell you -- I got my flight assignment.
I’ll be leaving out of Loxley, Alabama the day after
tomorrow. I don’t want this to be goodbye!”
Jeffords’ expression softened, maybe for the first time in
years. “You’ll have to get used to it, you know. We
live eighty years or so. The geeks tell me you could be around a
hell of a lot longer than that.”
“I know,” Marcy said miserably.
“I told you I’ll be around long enough to see us win
this thing, you’re not gonna get rid of me that easy. You
just do your job, let me worry about Ironass Jeffords.”
Marcy swore, “I won’t let you down, ma’am.”
Jeffords smiled. She’d already known that, from the months
she’d been working with Marcy and overseeing the project.
“You need to get your things in order to ship out. You can
leave early this afternoon to take care of things. Stop by my
office tomorrow morning before you head out for Loxley.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Dismissed.” Jeffords watched Marcy shut the hatch
behind her, then kicked her chair around to look out over the
parade ground through the open blinds. The first red and gold
leaves strayed by on a breeze. She would see the snow again, and
spring. How could she ever explain to Marcy, or to anyone else
for that matter, how full her life had been, how rich and good?
If she could only complete this last mission and live to see
victory won, she could go to her rest without regrets.
(Loxley, Alabama -- September 2064)
The graduation dance at Loxley had been a gala affair, and the
four new Marines had enjoyed it greatly. They had their orders,
they were shipping out tomorrow. Lucas’ family and
Avery’s mom and his best friend had made it in for
graduation, but Yamauchi’s folks lived too far away, and
Moore didn’t have anyone. “Can you believe we got
assigned to the 58th squadron?” Lisa said.
Jimmy was still feeling a little warm from the champaign. He
hadn’t touched a drop of liquor since he and his mother had
drunk a toast to his father’s memory, so the bubbly had gone
to his head a little faster than he’d expected. “Well,
they needed four pilots, and we were the best all through
training.”
They all had passes to spend a few hours off base. Jimmy and
Kenny were going out with their folks, they parted company when
they saw the families coming out of the building. Nita said,
“Looks like it’s just you and me, kid.”
Lisa giggled. “You know something, Nita? I get tired of
someone who’s only eight calling me kid.”
Nita took a playful swipe at her, Lisa ducked fast because even
Nita’s playful swipes weren’t a whole lot of fun on the
receiving end. She’d found out fast in combat training that
she really didn't ever want Nita to pop her one for
real. Nita was a big woman, but she was all muscle, and it would
have been a hell of a mistake to assume that translated to slow.
They changed clothes and went down to the O-club for a while.
They thought about making friends with a couple of good-looking
guys they met there, but one of them made a remark about Nita and
they almost got in a fight. Neither of them wanted that kind of
trouble so they just walked away from it. They ran into some
acquaintances in the parking lot and ended up riding over to the
levee with them.
There was quite a little party going on when they got there,
people had hot dogs and beer. There were a lot of people
swimming. You weren’t supposed to do that because of
pollution or something but everyone did. Someone had country
music playing loud, and a few people were dancing down by the
campfire. After a while, they joined in the dance, celebrating
this last night on Earth.
(USS Saratoga, September 2064)
Vansen ran her fingers under her sling to ease it slightly.
“So, did you find out anything about our new kids from the
commodore last night?”
McQueen told her about them first, that gave him some time to
think about exactly how to break the news about Marcy. He had
thought no one could hate AIs on principle more than he did ...
until he had met Shane!
When he finished, she commented, “I’m surprised
they’d assign Jim’s son to the 5-8. He must be the next
thing to your own kid.”
“He wouldn’t have been, if I were still C.O. instead of
you,” McQueen pointed out. “I had a motorcycle back
then, I used to take him riding out on the back roads. Jim and I
didn’t think his mother knew about that, until she gave him
a motorcycle helmet for his birthday.”
Shane laughed. “Yeah, right...!”
“I’m not surprised Jimmy decided to go this route,
though. He used to love to hang around the sims, he was writing
code for them before he could reach the controls. I guess he was
about eleven or twelve when we started sneaking him in. The C.O.
went ballistic when he found out about that ... until Jimmy shot
him down best two out of three. You can imagine the grin on
Jim’s face while he watched that one go down.”
“So what happened?”
“The war ended, and Jim was promoted and started spending
more and more time aboard the carrier. Jimmy’s mom could
never get used to the climate in Alabama. When she was there by
herself eight or nine months out of the year she said the hell
with it and moved them back to where ever it was they came from.
South Dakota, I think. Then Jimmy started college. After that,
the only time I saw Jimmy was when Jim was home on leave at the
same time we were at Loxley. He and his mom came only came down
when Jim was there. The last time I saw him was spring break last
year, he stopped to visit on his way to Florida. He’d made
it into an honors software engineering program at MIT then.”
Shane could understand Jimmy real well. She’d been a Marine
brat herself ... and for a long time there, every AI she’d
killed had gone towards evening the score for her parents. At
least he should fit into the unit real well, he already knew the
ropes and he was practically family already. As for the rest ...
she’d know soon enough. “When do they get here?”
“Should be today.”
Shane studied him for a while. He was usually hard to read, even
for her, but now she could tell he was holding something back.
“Well, drop the other shoe and get it over with,” she
said finally.
He told her about Marcy, and Macauley’s world, and
Jeffords’ idea. “It just might be crazy enough to work,
Shane.”
“You’re asking me to trust your back to a --
freakin’ AI!” she exclaimed. “I am sorry, Ty, but
I just don’t think I can do that!”
Reasonably he said, “If she wanted me dead, I’d be
dead. All she’d have had to do was take a front row seat
back on Macauley’s World.”
“She needed you alive to get her off that rock,” Shane
pointed out. “You’re even, you don’t owe her
anything! Let someone else have her!”
“I’m not asking you to trust Marcy. I’m asking you
to trust me. Besides,” he grinned, “You do owe me an
anything bet.”
Shane gave him a long look, and slowly relaxed. She wasn’t
used to Ty sweet-talking her into things, she could foresee a
lifetime of doing things against her better judgment just because
of those blue eyes. “All right, Ty. But I still think
we’ve both lost our minds. I wouldn’t go along with
this on anyone else’s say-so!”
“I knew I could count on you.”
“Just promise me you’ll be careful around this thing.
Unless you want to end up like me, with a Ka-bar in your
back--”
“All right, I promise, if it’ll make you feel better. I
want you to promise me you’ll give Marcy a fair chance
before you make up your mind about her.”
“I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt,” Shane
said. “Before I met Alvin on the Bacchus, I wouldn’t
have believed there was any room for doubt. But now ...
I’ve been wrong before. Maybe I’m wrong about this AI.
Are Todd and Jeff-D and Holly supposed to know about her?”
“Need to know. Right now, it’s just you, me and
Commodore Ross. If she’s here that long, we’ll
eventually end up having to let ‘Phousse in on it.”
“Right.... Ty, how do you think they got her to do
this?”
“What was the line from that old movie about an offer you
can’t refuse? I’m sure it was something like that. In
her place, I’d have agreed to just about anything to get out
of that detention colony.”
“Yeah,” Shane said thoughtfully. “I’m going
to head back to the barracks and make sure nobody has their stuff
in the spare lockers. We aren’t going to have a hell of a
lot of time to get the new kids settled in before we have to ship
out for the JFK.”
“What are you thinking?”
“That it was all just on paper before, my being C.O. of the
58th. We all knew what was really going on. These kids don’t
know, and that scares the hell out of me. They’re going to
be looking to me ... and I don’t know if I’m
ready.”
He sat down on the corner of his desk. “Now you know how I
felt before the Battle of the Belt,” he told her.
“I’d just lost the 127th, and most of us had ten or
fifteen years of experience. And there you people were, fresh out
of Loxley.” He shook his head. “I was supposed to give
you some kind of fighting chance out there....”
“You did,” Shane said.
“Shane, you’re the one who’s been really leading
this squadron almost from the start. I can give you advice, but
you’re the one who’s out there in the thick. Whenever
you’ve had to make the snap decisions, you’ve done it.
And for two months while I was in rehab, you were the one who
pulled the 5-8 back together. You’ve done a hell of a job. I
don’t see that changing now.”
Shane smiled. “I needed to hear that.”
<End Part Two>