Authors: Nathaniel Danes
Trent snapped a sharp salute as the admiral approached.
“At ease, Colonel.” He sat down. “Please take a seat. I must say it’s a pleasure to meet you. We actually have an old connect. You knew my grandfather.”
Staring at the admiral’s face, a familiarity surfaced.
“The
Commerce
.” Trent snapped his fingers. “You’re Captain Chen’s grandson?”
“Yes, however it was admiral after he returned from the Big Red mission.”
“Good for him! Hope he got a chance to lead a battle group. He would have hated being stuck behind a desk.”
“Absolutely. He chalked up quite a few victories before finely passing away when his flagship was destroyed defending one of our colonies.”
“Sorry to hear that. He was a good man.”
“Thank you. He went exactly how he would have wanted. He bragged often about transporting the famous Red Barons on their first mission. He took great pride in knowing you.”
“The feeling is mutual.” Trent settled into the plush chair, relaxing a little. “I understand that we have more than a few colonies to defend these days. The Fleet must wield a significant force. When I left, there wasn’t much more than a couple large battle groups.”
“We have certainly grown by every measurement. Computer, bring up the colonies.” The coffee table at their feet lit up, displaying eleven worlds of varying size, color, and composition. Most reminded Trent of Earth, but some looked wildly different. He fixated on a tan planet. Its appearance reminded him of a desert.
Chen noticed and offered an answer to the unasked question, “That one is Phoenix.”
“Awfully barren.”
“Most of the planet is too hot for settlement. The poles are actually quite lovely from what I hear. Massive naturally occurring underground aquifers supply the colony with all the water they need. They are trying to start a forest...or something like that. We’re terraforming another six worlds, but they’ll take centuries before we can colonize them.”
“Impressive...empire.” The word felt uncomfortable but accurate.
“Some have taken to calling it that, but the official name of the overarching government is the United Earth Systems. These planets and some mining operations on worlds not suitable for settlement supply the raw minerals we depend on for the war effort. We have shipyards on several of them, cranking out new warships on a constant basis.”
“How big is the Fleet now?”
“The actual number is classified. Let’s just say it’s capable of defending all of our interests plus offensive operations.”
“The Legion?”
“It too has grown considerably. Thirty-four, sorry...thirty-five legions now that you’ve returned. Yours is still the 1st Legion. We were never able to confirm your destruction so we didn’t feel right forming another 1st. Your victory on Black Marble is still the stuff of legend.”
“Thank you. I take it the war is going well.”
“Yes, relatively speaking. The situation is stable. It’s been a lot of give and take.” The admiral spoke with his hands. “We take a planet, and they take it back, and vice versa. We’re hoping to change that with our latest massive offensive.”
“Hit them in so many places that they can’t respond to them all.”
“That’s the general idea. We’ve spent a decade building up the forces for it.”
“Your timing couldn’t have been better as far as I’m concerned.”
“Aiding your return is a nice unexpected bonus. It will be helpful to have
Earth’s Fist
back in the fight. Battlecarriers always seem to be in short supply. She’ll take a little bit to repair and refit with modern systems, but that can be done in a fraction of the time and cost compared to building a new one. Your prisoner is certainly a nice surprise.”
“Happy to have done something useful in the past eighty years.”
“Colonel.” The admiral leaned forward. “You’ve already done more to win this war than ten generals. Maybe with a little more help, you can play a role in ending it.”
Trent shook his head and waved his hand. “Thank you, sir, but right now I just want to get home for a bit. Another mission is the last thing on my mind.”
“Yes, yes of course. You’ve earned a rest. A chance to see what it is that you’ve been fighting for all this time. You’ll be going home today. Nothing will change that. I just wanted to tell you that your friend—Hido is it? It will be going back with you.”
“Why? I mean...just seems to make more sense to keep him here.”
“I agree with you, Colonel.” Chen rose, stepping to a small personal bar of crystal decanters. The top of one holding a dark fluid clinked as he pulled it out and poured it into two clean glasses. “That decision is out of my hands. Ego and politics are the foundation for the decision to transfer the prisoner to the Pentagon. The top brass are far removed from the real action. They’re always looking for ways to make themselves feel and appear relevant. Your gift is a perfect opportunity for them.”
“Was hoping such impediments to battlefield efficiency had been done away with by now.”
Chen handed a glass to Trent.
“I’m afraid it will take a lot longer than eighty years for that leap in evolution.”
Bringing the glass to his nose, Trent gently sniffed.
Chen said, “It’s a Highland single malt.”
Taking a sip, Trent let it hang on the tongue.
“Nice and woody.”
“I guess there’s at least one advantage to sending Hido back with you.”
“What is that?”
“He’ll be near you.”
***
Several times already, Trent had been reminded the year was 2277. A word he didn’t recognize, a piece of equipment foreign to him. Little stuff like that constantly alerted him to the fact that he now lived out of his time.
None of these experiences delivered the body blow of awe he received when he walked into the medical bay.
In place of beds, patients hovered in midair with the help of anti-gravity patches stuck onto their back and limbs. The severely wounded like Captain Simms were immersed in tanks of clear bio med gel. The gooey substance was a concentrated nano bath. Simms floated unconscious without a breather. However it worked, Trent could literally see his body grow back the missing parts.
Captain Thomas, looking tired and emotionally spent, sat in an uncomfortable metal chair. The irony of being surrounded by incredible medical advancements, but seeing visitors still made to suffer poorly designed hospital chairs almost made Trent chuckle.
A friendly hand on the shoulder cleared the fog in her mind.
“Oh...hello, Colonel. I didn’t see you come in.”
“How’s he doin’?”
She yawned. “The docs say he’ll make a full recovery in a couple weeks.”
“A couple of weeks?”
“I know, nothing like a war to spur a surge in trauma medicine.”
“Great point. That’s exactly what happened during the American Civil War. The Union was confronted with so many casualties that they had to rethink military medicine completely. The result was the same basic structure of treatment we use today. Well, at least in our day.”
“Sir, the doctors say that he can’t make the trip back with us. They want to hold him back.” Tears started to well up. “We can’t leave him here all alone. Either he goes, or I stay.”
“Captain,” Trent said, “Don’t think for a second that we’re leaving one of the 1st behind. We’re all going to Earth together.”
Chapter 32: Transfer
W
alking off the shuttle, the warmth of the real sun and the crispness of a spring breeze washed over Trent, encasing him in a cloak of refreshment. The forgotten sensation of how a
real
natural environment felt surpassed the officers club’s artificial one by a factor of ten. Closing his eyes and lifting his face directly into the sun’s rays, he took a deep breath, savoring the moment.
Decades of time and an avalanche of war heroes had eroded the fame of the Red Barons, and diminished the reception to greet Trent at Andrews. It fell short of the pomp and circumstance that met him on return from the last glorious mission. Nonetheless, the victorious arrival of the fabled lost 1st Legion still warranted a media response.
Reporters from every news agency of significance within the United Earth System’s realm lingered inside the receiving hanger. They were like vultures, waiting to profit off the slain littering the field of battle.
“Colonel, Colonel!” the greedy horde shouted, fighting one another for position.
Pointing at the nearest reporter, Trent opened himself to the first question.
“Pepper Johnson, Galactic News Network,” the young, peppy vixen announced into her recording thumb before jamming it near his mouth. Her intense stare burned into him, causing him to feel uncomfortable. He instinctively recoiled. “Sorry, Colonel. I guess you wouldn’t know. We don’t use holo recorders any longer. A chip is implanted in my visual cortex. It records everything I see, my eyes are the camera.”
“I thought you were looking at me funny. What was your question?”
“There have been unconfirmed reports that you brought back a POW. Can you comment on these rumors? If true, it would be a first—another in your historic career.”
“I’m not in the business of dealing with rumors. That’s military intelligence’s job. What’s your question?” he nodded toward a dark skinned man.
“Yes, thank you,” he replied in an African accent, “we understand that you discovered an Earth like planet suitable for human settlement. Can you comment on this?”
“Not a whole lot to say.” Trent shrugged. “It’s a beautiful planet and certainly friendly to human life, except for the intelligent, but primitive life there. They didn’t take to kindly to us being there. Came darn close to killing me. Who’s next?”
Trent fielded question after question until none remained. As always, press relations remained a sorry duty for a soldier in a modern military unit, but its importance to the war effort couldn’t be overlooked.
As the satisfied reporters filtered out of the hanger to file their stories, Trent discretely made his way to a distant hanger on the edge of the base. After displaying his credentials to an armed security checkpoint, he stood on the tarmac to await the arrival of a special shuttle.
The craft broke through a thick cloud. White strands followed the shuttle for a second. It soon touched down without a sound not far from him.
The door whined open.
A team rolled Hido down the ramp. A cage just large enough to enclose the Bearcat imprisoned him.
“Welcome to Earth.”
“Thank you. I always imagined I would one day set foot on the human home world. Though, I must admit, in my mind it was under different circumstances. Where do we go from here?”
“To a special place.”
“Are you accompanying me?”
“I’ll see you there then leave for a while to see my family.”
“I’m pleased to hear your daughter is alive. You’re a lucky man. The universe has an interest in you. I can sense it.”
The cage continued to a waiting truck. Trent kept pace.
“Listen.” His tone became serious. “There isn’t anything I...”
“I know, Colonel.” Hido held out a hand to interrupt. “My time on your world will not be pleasant. We have discussed this. Don’t worry. I imagine your superiors have ordered your involvement in my...questioning. It’s your duty. I understand.”
“Thank you.”
***
Riding in the back of the convoy escorting Hido to his new place of residence, Trent marveled at the smoothness of the trip. Both in the ride of the military utility vehicle he cruised in at a hundred and twenty-five KPH and the low level of traffic on the highway. The wheel-less design of the vehicle utilized anti-gravity generators to float over the road easily answered part of the mystery. Peeking at his watch, he realized rush hour should have set in.
Letting curiosity get the better of him, Trent turned to the sergeant in the driver’s seat. He looked bored at having nothing to do. “Why aren’t there more cars on the road? Where is everyone?”
“Hmmm? Sorry, what did you say, sir?”
“Why is there no traffic? It’s rush hour. There’s hardly anyone on the road.”
“Oh...that. Yeah, traffic is kind of a thing of the past. Most folks with office jobs can work from home via virtual reality portals. People can plug into them and pop into their office with all their co-workers. We only use the roads for local travel. For longer trips, we use the skylanes.”
“Skylanes?”
“Flying highways. See.” He flipped open a panel on the dash, revealing a series of controls. “If we were headed to say...Richmond, we would activate the skycar function. That would take us up a couple hundred meters, and we’d merge with high speed traffic. Be in Richmond in no time.”
“That’s cool. We had flying cars back in my day. Between trial lawyers and lack of infrastructure, there wasn’t much of a market for them. Gotta say, I could get used to traveling like this.”
“I wouldn’t know what to do in traffic. My family is from around DC. My granddad says it used to take him forty minutes to get from downtown Baltimore to downtown Washington in rush hour. That sounds like hell.”
“We made due in the old days, Sergeant.”
The Pentagon caught Trent’s eye.
“It’s nice to see some things haven’t changed.”
“Oh, that’s changed plenty. You just can’t see them.”
***
After depositing the precious cargo deep in the bowels of the Pentagon, where many of history’s great secrets found themselves swallowed whole, Trent made his escape. Two weeks leave awaited him. He didn’t want to waste a minute of it.
The first order of business entailed a clandestine link up with Amanda before the two of them caught an early morning transport to Des Moines, where Anna resided in a nursing home.
Night fell as Trent took an effortless cab ride to his first destination. He found himself on Pennsylvania Avenue, staring at the radiant white marble of the White House through a black metal fence.
In his mind, he traveled back to his childhood, before first contact with the Kitrights, when his father took him to visit DC. The awesome gravity of the city at the time awed him. The town, for all intents and purposes, was the center of the known universe.
An invisible energy permeated every person, building, and monument. The man or woman who lived inside the majestic home before him now was the undisputed leader of the world.
That energy and confidence of the city temporarily renewed itself in the early days of the
Second Contact War
, what people called the conflict with the Bearcats. The United States was the only nation with the money and technology to lead humanity in the mighty struggle. Now that energy, once derived from knowing all real power in existence flowed along the streets, rusted away. The role of preeminent power was willingly forfeited for the betterment of humankind. The job before the world was too great for any one nation to undertake alone.
The governing structure of humankind had changed dramatically in the last eighty-two years, to confront the modern challenges of galactic engagement. The history books Trent read on the transport to Earth taught him as much.
Individual national governments held dominion within their borders. As long as they observed basic human rights, they could do as they pleased. War between nations was illegal. This idealistic dream for millennium was easily enforced. The only real militaries in existence, the Legion and Fleet, took their orders from the United Earth Systems.
UES governed relations between nations, the colonies, and acted as humanity’s representative to the stars. Each body under UES’ jurisdiction appointed representatives to the Council, the number determined by population and economic ability to support the Council’s financial decisions.
Today, Washington, DC was just another city. The person who occupied the White House was nothing more than a first among equals, a single voice in a cosmic chorus of humanity.
Trent didn’t need the books to tell him that. He could feel the difference, standing there looking at a house that happened to be white. The geo-political shift in political arrangement stung him, as an American from another time.
As he mourned the relative fall of American power, a sweet mirage out of the corner of his eye grasped his full attention. There under the street lamps on this warm spring evening, Amanda strolled toward him.
Her wavy golden hair bounced each time her high heels slapped against the sidewalk. The hem of her yellow dress fluttered in the soft breeze. Her radiant smile, surrounded by sexy red lipstick, projected pure beauty. The living vision came right up to Trent.
“Why hello, officer,” she said in an extra feminine voice with hand on her hip. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to escort a lady to dinner?”
Having never seen her dressed in such a manner, his foggy mind struggled to conjure up something to say, “Oh my God...you’re a…a woman.” The lameness of the words caused him to punch himself mentally.
Amanda giggled. “I’d think of anyone, you’d already know that much.”
“I’m sorry. You just look so gorgeous. I’m not used...I mean you don’t.” Taking a breath, he, retreated and regrouped, like any good officer faced with a totally fucked up operation. “You look beautiful.”
“That’s better. Thank you.” She pecked his cheek.
“About dinner?”
“Where would you like to go?”
“Anywhere they have real food.”
“I think we can arrange that.”
***
Dinner treated the two happy warriors to a feast of Earth delicacies. Wine, grilled rib eye, lobster, fresh vegetables, and decadent desserts landed on their table and were promptly devoured. The two homesick adventurers savored every bite as their taste buds quickly remembered what non-reconstituted freeze-dried food tasted like.
The meal was surprisingly affordable, not that it mattered to them. A stable birth rate combined with an exodus of people to the colonies allowed the highly evolved agricultural sector to produce an abundance of quality food. The experience reminded Trent that he should swing by the old family farm to see how things were being run.
Full and satisfied, they made their way back to the hotel room Amanda had rented for the night, the penthouse suite. The expansive space was three rooms with attached bathrooms, a full bar and large living room complete with a baby grand piano.
“Bit much for just the two of us don’t you think?”
“Oh maybe,” she said. “I figured what the hell. Told them that I was tired of being cramped and wanted as much space as possible. They gave me a good rate once they learned who I was.”
“It does feel good to have some breathing room.”
“Why don’t you go into that bedroom? I did some quick shopping so we didn’t have to wear our Legion uniforms. I want to blend in.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice. I can’t wait to feel something else against my skin.”
“You don’t have to worry about them fitting. They’re self-fitting clothes. They’ll adjust to whatever your size is.”
Walking into the master bedroom, he found a pair of tan slacks, polo shirt, and brown leather shoes. Slipping them on, he couldn’t believe how soft and light the fabric felt. It was almost as comfortable as being naked.
Reentering the living room area, a loud pop greeted him. Amanda had opened a bottle of champagne. The fizzing sound tickled his ears as she poured the wine into a pair of tall glasses.
Trent said, “You read my mind.”
“It’s a gift of mine.”
“One of many.”
They picked up the glasses by the stems, clanking the tops, feeling no need to verbalize the toast.
“You nervous about tomorrow?” she asked after a sip.
“Terrified. I’m trying really hard not to think about it.”
“How’s that going for you?”
“Pretty shitty.” He laid his hand over hers. “I’m not as scared with you around.”
She smiled.
Trent continued, “I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re coming with me, but I can manage. Are you sure you don’t have anyone you want to see?”
“There really isn’t anyone left.” Sad eyes lowered to the bar. “A couple of nephews are alive. Thanks to our first mission, I never got a chance to know them. You’re the closest thing to family that I have left. I want to be there for you tomorrow.”
Trent put an index finger under her chin to lift her eyes to his.
“I’m sorry. I know how much you wanted to try to reconnect. It’s not fair, not fair at all.”