Torian Reclamation 2: Flash Move (7 page)

The High General gazed out his large circular window before tossing back his tube of Redflower-20. When the effects of it subsided, he turned back to his guest.

“The governor specifically requested I bring you with me. It’s been a long time since he had foreign visitors. The alien fleet moored at the station is big enough to make him squeamish, even after I ordered our patrols tripled. Nineteen transport ships, all of which we assume are loaded with fighters. The other alien fleet over Amulen is roughly the same size. I don’t have to tell you how serious this is.”

Brandon smiled in response and took his drink as well. He was sitting in the medium-sized leather chair and looked rather comfortable. At that moment, Olut6 realized he wasn’t coming.

Brandon spoke. “I’m not a military man, General. You know that. Whatever the trouble is, I’m confident you and Mip7 will handle it. He’s a very experienced foreign relations delegate.”

“You—and him—are two of the best military men I’ve ever known. I realize it’s not an experience either of you wish to relive. But he did seem adamant that you come.”

“And I will come, General. But I have business on Amulen first.”

“Urgent business?”

“I fear so. With two alien fleets having arrived, including troops on the ground at C3, I’m concerned over the security of our situation there. It’s a little too close for comfort, just one continent away.”

Olut6 nodded. “The contaminated network?”

“Yes,” Brandon said. “It’s been 25 years. The culture should be fully developed and ready to deploy.”

“Almost 25 years,” Olut6 pointed out.

“Close enough, hopefully. I can’t help but feel the current disturbance on Amulen is a danger to all human life there. We need to get the rest of our people off that planet—all of them.”

“Do you think they’ll all agree to leave?” Olut6 asked.

Brandon slowly stood up. “Yes. Yes, I think they will now. The time has come. There’s nothing there for them anymore, and the atmospheric deterioration is becoming too much of a health hazard. Those few who remain have been living in denial, but even they must now admit the end has arrived. Especially with alien battles taking place so close by. That could prove to be a blessing to us.”

“When can I tell the governor to expect you?”

“I don’t know, General. Soon, hopefully.”

Olut6 turned back to the window. “Mip7 claims no knowledge of the light orb that was seen moving upon the station last night.”

Brandon came over next to him and said, “Do you believe him?”

“No, I don’t think I do. He seemed …aloof when I asked him about it.” Olut6 looked down at Brandon. “Do you believe him?”

Brandon hesitated before answering and stared up at the early evening sky. Olut6 looked back up as well. The light from Cardinal-4 was becoming visible next to the great white sphere that was Amulen.

“No,” Brandon finally said. “I don’t believe I do.”

*

“I heard you guys spent a wild night out.”

Jumper turned toward the familiar, sweet voice—although he knew from experience how quickly it could turn from sweet to stinging when provoked.

“Hey, Kayla. Did Alan open his big mouth and tell you all about our trip?”

“Ha-ha, no. But it sounds like maybe I should say yes, and trick you out of the juicy details. I just know you guys always have a wild time when you’re gone overnight.”

“It was a little wild. Going for a swim?”

“Ooooo, aren’t you smart. Figured that out, did you?” Kayla threw her towel in Jumper’s face.

“Well, your wetsuit looks kind of like my dad’s new float suits, so who knows? And the towel could have been for… ah, forget it.”

“I wouldn’t go near any of your dad’s inventions, and sure as extat wouldn’t be wearing one. Wanna watch me swim? Did my best time ever when you guys were out adventuring. Maybe you should leave more often.”

Jumper allowed his vision a moment’s feast. Kayla’s firm, petite form, which had never been rough on the eyes, was looking better than ever. The breeze blowing strands of her straight black hair across her face didn’t hurt the image any, either.

“No,” he said. “Writing in my journal. Maybe if you had your warm season suit on.”

“You’ve seen me in less than that.”

“Not in a long time.”

“Yeah. Your fault.” Kayla ran to the channel and dove in. She was undeniably the fittest human in the colony, thanks in part to the large square trench in the main courtyard that Jumper’s dad helped turn into a continuous swimming channel. Originally it was used for growing water-plants, back when the housing complex served as residences for Torian university students. This courtyard was the primary recreation area for the 64 Earthlings who still lived here.

Sixty-four. That wasn’t many. Jumper wished there were more. The complex could easily house hundreds—and at one time it briefly had, before the initial human exodus to Banor. That was before Jumper was even born. There were also several smaller migrations during his lifetime, especially in the last five years after the deteriorating atmospheric conditions became known. Then there were the half-dozen or so loners who had struck out from the colony on their own from time to time in an attempt to go live elsewhere on Amulen by themselves. Jumper respected those guys. If he wasn’t so close to his parents, he could picture himself doing the same thing—even knowing that most of them were never heard from again.

Alan was the last remaining close childhood friend of Jumper’s. Kayla was his only ex-girlfriend still living on Amulen. Not that Jumper was all that taken with the pursuit of romantic relationships. He was beginning to conclude they were more trouble than they were worth.

Only seventeen of the remaining population were first-generation Earthlings, including Jumper’s parents. Both Alan’s parents were still here, too—but Kayla’s were separated. Kayla stayed behind with her mom when her dad left for Banor several years ago.

Thirty-nine were second-generation, of which Jumper was the oldest. The first generation, those revived from the cryonic preservation tanks, had their hands full with the kids. That made it easy for Jumper and Alan to sneak off whenever they wanted. There were now also eight small children in the colony who comprised the fledgling third generation. Jumper realized Alan was right and they would probably all be moving to one of the Earth colonies on Banor someday soon. Jumper would miss his home world when that happened.

After watching Kayla swim for a minute, Jumper turned back to his lightpad. It was gift from Uncle Brandon when he was young. Jumper was one of the few Amulite humans who had one. Mostly, he used it to do research for the outings he and Alan cooked up. But he also kept a journal of all his experiences. Occasionally, Jumper kept in touch with certain old friends on Banor via his lightpad, and sometimes even received messages from Uncle Brandon on it.

Alan’s voice interrupted him from behind.

“Man, my dad really drilled me for details on this one.” He sat down on the bench across from Jumper.

“I hope you didn’t give him too many,” Jumper said without looking up.

“No, but it was difficult this time. I told him we met some Northern Militia natives and learned a lot about the agritent farming in the north, because I figure me having that knowledge is going to come up in conversation. Heck, it’s the only real newsworthy topic we have to discuss. But he thinks I know everything about that secondhand.”

“Good thinking.”

“Yeah,” Alan said, “except he doubts my story.” He chuckled. “Thinks the militia guys were lying about the agritents being so far south now.”

“What did you tell him about the alien battle?”

“Just that we saw some of it in the sky in the distance on our way back in.”

“And the mountain dwellers?”

“Erob, no! I told him we stayed in the foothills testing your dad’s suits on shallow slopes, and decided to camp out for the night because we were having cruiser trouble. At least there’s partial truth in that.”

“Okay,” Jumper said. “That’s not too bad, any of it. Your story needs to match the one I give my dad.”

A chirp sounded from Jumper’s lightpad.

“Speaking of which, he’s messaging me right now.”

“I’m sure he wants to know about the suits,” Alan said.

Jumper shook his head as he read. “Actually, he’s asking me to come out to the university. Hmm.”

“Why?”

Jumper set the lightpad down. “Uncle Brandon’s contacted him and is on his way to the university right now! He wants me there to see him.”

“Cool. Let’s go.”

“Go where?” Kayla’s voice said. Water drops hit Jumper’s head as she pulled her towel out from behind his back.

“Why don’t you use the evaporation chamber like the rest of us?” Alan asked Kayla.

“Dries out my skin. Go where?”

“The university,” Jumper answered.

“Oh, take me with you! I want to make a run through the air gym.”

Jumper shook his head. “No, not this time.”

“Why not? You’re going anyway.”

“The prophet’s coming to see his dad,” Alan said.

Kayla dried her hair furiously. “I won’t interfere with that. I just want to take a swing through. You can drop me at the front and pick me back up later.”

Jumper looked at Alan for a few seconds. They both eventually shrugged.

“All right,” Jumper said. “Meet us out front.”

“Oh, no you don’t. Last time you ditched me. One of you is coming with me to my room and wait while I change.”

“I’ll do it,” Alan said a little too quickly.

Jumper scowled and said, “Fine. Meet you both out there.”

“Hope he doesn’t ditch us both,” Jumper heard Kayla say to Alan as the two of them walked towards the building.

“That might not be so bad,” Alan responded.

“You wish, Alan.”

In the parking lot a short while later, Jumper knew he had two choices. The first was he could drive, and let Kayla squish herself in with Alan in the passenger seat. He chose the second option.

“I thought you always drove,” Kayla said as she squeezed in with Jumper. Her flesh felt good against his, even through the thick climate-controlled clothes they all wore, which consisted of stretchy pants and a long-sleeve shirt. Her voice was flirtatious in a way Jumper wasn’t sure about. He decided to act annoyed.

“I’m working on my journal entry—but I keep getting interrupted.” Jumper turned his attention to his lightpad as soon as she settled down.

“Oh, your journal. Right. When are you going to let me read that?”

“I’m thinking …never. Yep. Pretty sure it’s never.”

“Don’t want me to read about Ashlie and Carmen?”

“As if girls were important enough to write about,” Jumper jeered.

“You’ve been writing that thing since we were kids. Are you seriously saying it has nothing about me?”

Jumper looked into Kayla’s dark brown eyes. They were becoming more beautiful as she matured.

“Oh, I’m sure there’s something. Like you said, it goes back a long ways.”

“The file size has to be getting gigantic by now,” she said.

“Yeah, it’s pretty big.”

Kayla put her muscular, soft arm around Jumper’s shoulder and lowered her voice. “How much about me is really in there?”

Alan appeared outside the driver’s door.

“I’m driving? Great! Kayla, you might be good for something after all.”

“What took you so long?” Jumper mumbled.

It was a short drive to the university, especially with Alan determined to enjoy his opportunity to drive. They dropped Kayla off at the front building—Jumper gave her a little shove to help her exit—and then took the 2-seater around to the social sciences building. As they were parking, an overhead sound made them both look up. There was a small space shuttle above them, descending fast over the far end of the parking lot.

“That’s got to be Uncle Brandon!” Jumper said.

They watched as the boxy spacecraft lowered, hovered, and landed. The cabin door opened upward. A lone human figure emerged and began walking towards the social sciences building.

Jumper sprung from the 2-seater and ran to meet him.

“Uncle Brandon!”

Brandon’s smile was so wide it was the first thing Jumper saw as his face came into view.

“Jumper!” he said and raised his hand. Jumper leapt through the air the last few yards and slapped his hand as he landed—a special greeting Uncle Brandon taught him as a young child, something he called a
running
high five
.

“So great to see you Uncle Brandon!” Jumper stepped back and checked him out a little better. Brandon wore old Earth style clothes, denim pants that the older generation called
jeans
, and a cloth coat of the type they referred to as
letterman jackets
.

Jumper then glanced at the shuttle craft behind him. “Did you bring Aunt Rachel or Rachel2?”

“No, Jumper. I’m here on important business. Is your dad waiting for me in his office?”

“That would be my guess. We just arrived ourselves.”

“I see. That must be Alan2 with you.”

“Right. Kayla—Kayla2, that is—begged a ride from us, so she’s here, too. We dropped her off at the front so she could exercise on the bars.”

Brandon unfocused his eyes for a moment. “Kayla2. Yes, I remember her. Cute young thing. Her father was depressed over not having seen her in so long, the last I talked with him. That was last year sometime. How’s her mom?”

“She’s always been depressed, as far as I can tell. Doesn’t seem to bother Kayla2, though.”

Brandon talked as they walked. “We’re all pathetically unaware of how our actions, particularly those which transgress Erob law, are a detriment to our children.”

“You’re still the same old Uncle Brandon, I see.”

“Yes. Let’s hope that never changes.”

Alan joined them and exchanged greetings with Brandon, then the three of them walked to the sociology building and entered. Jumper’s dad wasn’t in his office, so they went to his lecture hall. He was there, talking with several native students. When Jumper’s dad saw the three of them come in, he stepped back from the group and crossed his arms in front of his gray climate-controlled shirt. To anyone else, it would appear he was indifferent to their arrival—possibly even irritated—judging from his expression and body language. But Jumper knew his dad well enough to detect an ever-so-slight smile at the corners of his lips. He knew he was happy.