The Turret: Starclan Foundation Page 5
Jock felt the world around him shrinking into that suffocating pinpoint again. Crushing him tighter and tighter, all of it building up pressure…
“Son, what happened to you would sidetrack anyone. It wasn’t like a battle, no one expected casualties. And you watched your love and your friends splattered as they waved good-bye to you. Tell me how that makes you feel!”
Jeri’s graphic words opened the lid to that box a little more. The images in Jock’s mind added to the pressure there.
“It, um, it, makes me feel angry! Sad! Cheated! It…I…They…” Jock’s head fell on the table as his pain exploded, his body to his soul shaking. Jeri placed a strong hand on Jock’s shoulder, and waited as Jock’s pain boiled over. This is the strongest kid I’ve seen come through here, and the brightest. He didn’t deserve this.
“They got a bum deal they didn’t deserve, Jock. And so did you. It’s Okay to be angry about that, about the happiness that day ripped out of your life. But it can’t take the memories of what you four had shared. Nothing can take those from you, son. Tell me about the first time you met them, each one. Start by telling me about the dark haired girl…”
***
Stealth Probe 1138
Lunar Launch Station
Tsiolkovskiy Crater
Standard Earth Date December 28 3444
“Comfortable, Pilot?” The half-bald, mustached face asked.
“Like a bug in a rug, Chief.” Jock replied.
“OK, son, Godspeed to you, Sir.” Crew Chief Vito Kowalski slapped a big hand on top of Jock’s helmet. “Glad to see you perked up and smiling, Son.”
“Thanks, Vito.” Jock looked up at the Chief’s face, the ever-present unlit stub of a stogie trying to fall from his lips. The entrance hatch closed, sealing Jock into the stealth probe for the next twelve days. Bucktooth was a smart guy. Even though Jock had passed all his training requirements with flying colors, he realized that twelve days sealed in the needle-tipped probe no one could see would have driven him insane if he hadn’t released his feelings about Angie, Pat, and Sharon. Plus there was the long buried anguish over the deaths of his mother and father that he had never dealt with. Now, thanks to LC Bucktooth, Jock would be thinking of the good times he had had with the three friends and with his parents. That is one good officer. I hope I can be as effective if I ever make it that far.
“You got your hat on straight, Lieutenant?” Jeri’s voice came over his comm.
“Aye-aye, Sir! Thanks to you, Sir! I mean that.”
“Stow it, son. Consider it part of your training. You’ll have plenty of chances to use it.”
“Copy that, Sir. I still am grateful, Sir.”
“MacAlister, get the hell out of here!” Jericho Bucktooth grinned.
“On the schedule, Sir!” Jock looked at the readouts in front of him. The stealth probe was sitting on a launch cradle just outside the main propulsive rails. The basic process was that of a high velocity railgun, lengthened out over the lunar surface to keep the acceleration tolerable for the human bullet. Once every six months the railgun pointed close enough to ADS 1437 to launch a replacement. There was a reason for the stealth launches and undetectable probes. Jock thought of that Remembrance Day with his father at the fairgrounds 13 years ago.
Eighty-eight years ago, the Earth had been invaded, and Humanity had come close to extinction. Due in large part to the actions of an otherwise inconsequential freighter captain named Joel MacAlister and his crew, who managed to turn their creaky old ore carrier into a shotgun blast that destroyed most of the alien fleet, Humanity survived. The result was the construction of the ADS systems at certain favorable gravitational points around the solar system. This put overlapping early warning and point-defense systems into the most likely paths of any future invaders. The ADS sites were almost undetectable by design, and any ships traveling to them needed to be as well, or an invading force would simply bypass the “Turrets”.
And now Jock, great-nephew of Joel, was about to be launched like a dart at one of them.
Twelve days. What would I think about? What would I do? I have no input into the flight until the last few kilometers.
Jock went through the checklist yet again, for the twentieth time he figured. Busy work! Oh, well, he was getting the assignment he had dreamt of since he was ten. Command of a Turret!
“T minus ten minutes, and counting!” the computerized voice informed him. Jock thought about the launch; 1,100 kilometers of magnetic accelerated hell as he was boosted to the speed that would take him to the Turret in a dozen days. 100 million kilometers in twelve days! One third of light-speed!
Now he had a few minutes to think…if he hadn’t chosen a Turret assignment, would his friends still be alive? If he had asked Sharon last year, at the formal when he first realized it was the right thing to do, would they all be alive and happy?
Jock rubbed his right shoulder and screamed, “FORTITER”!
“…in three. Two. One. Launch.” The computer stated calmly. But Jock never heard that “launch” part, as the acceleration slammed him into the gravchair.
Twelve days in isolation is a longer time when you have to live it than when you just talk about it. Jock had little to do now, as the entire process was automated up until the last few hours.
I’ve been over the last few hours at the Academy at least twelve times. There is nothing I could have done. The bus driver had a heart attack; he was dead before he could have seen my friends. How long has it been? Twenty minutes, great! Mom, she died of a broken heart. Dad was her life, dad and I. Nothing I could have done there, either. Dad, I wish…dad, I wanted to spend every second I could with you. The trips to the lab you took me on sparked my interest in gravity research: the accident in the lab. I’ll find out what killed you, dad. I promise.
“Computer, run simm Mac-A-1.”
“Simm initiated.”
Jock watched the vid of the research lab his father oversaw. He watched as his father moved into the staging area near the gravitronic field. The other technicians looked at their readouts, one screamed in panic, and the entire lab imploded, collapsing in upon itself. His father and three technicians included, sucked into the microscopic singularity at the center of the field. As the field collapsed, all that was left of the people, the lab and a quarter of the building was a baseball-sized sphere of super dense matter.
Again and again Jock watched. At first it distracted him from thinking of Angela, of Patrick, of Mom, but most of all, it kept him from thinking of Sharon. And Sandy. He felt so guilty about shutting Sandy out of his life after his father died, that he didn’t contact her for the four years he was at the Academy. Yet his feelings for Sandy were what kept him from embracing Sharon for four years. Now the guilt of those precious few embraces, of planning to marry another woman, made thinking of Sandy even more painful. So he buried her memories very deep.
Studying his father’s death almost kept all of that guilt out of his mind. It kept him from remembering Sharon’s golden hair, how soft and shiny it was, how it’s smell always made him smile, how soft her skin was, the taste of her lips the last night together…
I need to get off of that. I’m not ready yet.
“Computer, replay at one-half speed.”
“Replaying at one-half speed.”
Something’s not right there!
***
Hilton D. C. Resort
Room 513
Arlington
Standard Earth Date December 28 3444
“How could you have screwed this up so badly? Do you know what he’s going to do to us? You were supposed to whack that MacAlister kid, instead you whacked his kid!” Harry Ashton growled at his partner.
“It’s not my fault. The guy really croaked! We had it set up so he could claim a heart attack, and he really had one!” Ralph Mitchell begged.
“Even so, the only way one of us will survive this is…”
“NO, no, wait! Harry, Harry, don’t!”
&
nbsp; ***
Stealth Probe 1138
Lunar-Ort Transit
Standard Earth Date December 29 3444
Jock lay staring at the neutral grey panel above him. Finding the strength to look into certain memories was not an easy task.
One at a time he lifted the mental images out of his mind’s keep. Angie, that first day, in awe of some story she had heard about him. And how embarrassed she was when Jock found out later that she had researched the three smartest cadets in her class before hand.
Patrick, his unconditional friendship, his aversion to studying. And his infatuation with Sharon’s beauty…
Sharon. Sharon. All thoughts of her go to that last night: The wind was cool, and smelled faintly of cherry blossoms. My hand shook as I slid the ring onto her finger. She was afraid of going into the chapel, oh, but how wonderful it was inside! When we kissed, that exhilarating feel of her skin, the smell of her soft hair, the electricity of her lips, the magic of her fingers…
“Sharon, I’ll never forget you. I’ll never waste time that way again. I miss you. I love you. Always.”
Jock fell asleep. He dreamt of the things that should have been.
***
Chrysler Building
55th Floor
New York City
Standard Earth Date December 31 3444
The 55th floor of The Chrysler Building had only one occupant. The private elevator stopped only there, and opened up into a large reception area, where a pretty, yet efficient looking receptionist guarded the two massive, dark stained wooden doors. Behind the doors was a meeting room, designed to hold a dozen VIPs comfortably.
A well-dressed yet brutish looking man dragged the swollen, half conscious Harry Ashton through the doors, past the polished mahogany table and into the private office beyond.
“Here he is sir, just as you requested.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hale. You may leave him now.”
“Yes sir.”
“Mr. Ashton, the results of the assignment you were given were disastrous. I send you to remove a thorn, and instead you kill my daughter. And, I hear you have taken some steps to try and protect yourself from the consequences of your failure.” An evil sneer crept onto the bald man’s darkened face. “In so doing, you presumed to take action for me, from me. You assumed my place.” The words were spat out as if sour milk. “I have some friends that I think will enjoy meeting you.”
The half-bald man walked over to the large mahogany desk and pressed a button.
“Mr. Stack, I have someone here I wish you to introduce to your hounds.”
Harry began screaming then. He stopped screaming soon after he was introduced to the hounds.
***
Base Commander’s Office
Lunar Launch Station
Tsiolkovskiy Crater
Standard Earth Date December 31 3444
“How is the kid doing, Bucktooth? Will he be able to handle what he will find there?”
“Better than I would have been able to at that age, Admiral. He’s pretty damn strong. It’s a shame to send him out there, though. And damn bad luck on the assignment.”
“We’ve tried to talk him out of it for two years. He’s not only the highest scoring in physics, history, tactics, and strategy but in diplomacy, as well. Everyone wanted that kid! And, this is the ONLY ADS site available before we shut them all down.”
“I still don’t think that’s a good idea, Sir.”
“Neither do I, or any of the Joint Chiefs. But, the decision’s been made. The new plasma drives are supposed to enable a fleet of ships to take the place of the Turrets, and we just don’t have the budget for both.”
“Well, Sir, I still don’t like it. Or sending MacAlister out with…her there.”
“They are simply the two best minds we have on Gravitic Drive Theory. I’m betting they’ll start working together on it pretty quick.”
“If they don’t kill each other first. You’re setting them both under a huge emotional Sword of Damocles, Sir.”
“Take care of this kid, Bucktooth. And take care of the girl when she gets back. She’ll likely be a wreck. Or, more of a wreck than when she went out.”
“I’ll keep an eye on him, sir. And I’ll do what I can for her as well.”
“I know you will, Jeri.”
***
Stealth Probe 1138
Lunar-Ort Transit
Standard Earth Date December 31 3444
Jock woke up after eight hours of sleep. He felt much more at peace with himself than he had in a long time. Now a refreshed Jock was back at his self appointed task of investigating his father’s death. Why did the gravitic field expand, what collapsed the controls?
Jock watched the vids over and over again. He looked at the data readouts over and over again. And he looked at the data feeds superimposed upon the vids over and over again. Jock came to the uneasy conclusion that the gravitic field was normal right up until his father came into the control room, and then, as if a switch had been thrown…
Something’s just not right there!
Jock called up the vids of each technician and observer. He thought he may have seen something, but he needed more information, a better data feed with more detail.
Later. Jock had come to realize that after reviewing the same vid five times, he stopped seeing details. So he alternated.
He went back to his theory of gravitic beam control. Running simm after simm of his theory, tweaking each little detail just a little here, a little there. After a few hours of working on that, he just needed to stop thinking, stop trying to solve puzzles.
So, he remembered.
He remembered watching Pat play basketball. He was deceptively powerful with that thin frame, and very quick. He smiled at the memory of Angela’s vicious logic on the debating team; so much joyful ferocity in such a small package. Sharon. Every time he brought up a memory of her, his mind went back to the softness of her hair, her scent, like flowers on a spring morning, her touch, like an angel’s breath. To the first words he ever said to her, that said what he thought the best:
“Your eyes reflect my soul like shimmering pools,
And your hair outshines the morning sun,
When you smile, wise men are but fools,
All my senses, your beauty stuns!”
And then his mind wandered out of that comfortable room of memories, into places his guilt darkened; Don, his best friend, the kindest person he’d ever met, never saying a bad word about anyone. Aggie, always smiling, the most perceptive person he could imagine.
And Sandy. The dances. The Proms. The Friday nights on the lake. The way her head fit perfectly on his shoulder. They way he felt… whole when he was with her. The shimmer of her eyes whenever she looked at him. Her joy when he won a wrestling match. Laying next to her on the summer’s grass, holding her hand as they looked up at the stars…
He fought through the darkness of his guilt. How he had cut them all off after his father died, and how he had closed the door on them completely after his mom passed. How his mom’s death, or his reaction to it, had almost cost him Pat, Angie, and Sharon as well.
How they all could have helped him deal with the deaths, as Lieutenant Commander Bucktooth had. How they all would have become friends. How he would have had to choose between Sandy and Sharon. How he couldn’t have made that choice.
Was that why I kept them out of my life after I got to the Academy? I knew I’d have to choose? But, wasn’t that choosing of a sort?
No, it wasn’t choosing; it was the memories of Dad teaching Don and me how to sail. Of Mom teaching Sandy and Aggie how to make haggis. Of the talks with Dad about being a Man, about right and wrong, about honor, duty, and kindness. About girls, how a real man treated women. And how that topic had always came back to Sandy.
It took Jock three days to fight through that darkness he had draped over those memories. He couldn’t bring them fully into daylight yet, not until he asked her forgiveness.
And that had to wait another eighteen months.
After seven more days, he thought he had his gravity answer. He also thought he’d had his fill of the subject of gravitics.
And, he still hadn’t figured out why his father was dead.
***
Stealth Probe 1138
Lunar-Ort Transit
Standard Earth Date January 7 3445
“Deceleration program commencing in ninety minutes.” The cold computerized voice announced. Jock wondered why the USF never gave a bit of personality to a computer’s voice.
Battery power had run the stealth probe Jock was riding in until now. The small gravitic generator was scheduled to start now. Jock watched the readouts that told him the hydrogen atoms were being slammed into each other, releasing great amounts of energy. .
Jock monitored the startup of the reactor. This was a critical moment in his trip. If the reactor did not fire, Jock would become an interstellar traveler, drifting endlessly through the universe. Thankfully, that had never happened. Yet.
The reactor started, and Jock saw the power available increase. He initiated the IFF transmission so the ADS would not vaporize him, then the gravity beams as he reviewed the deceleration profiles calculated before his launch. He was dependent upon those calculations, since his stealth probe had no way of verifying his position, course, or velocity.
At the predetermined point, Jock’s probe energized the gravity beams and began slowing into the orbit that should place him into the docking port of ADS 1437.