Authors: Wilson Harp
Tags: #(v5), #Alien Invasion, #First Contact, #Military, #Science Fiction, #Space Marine
Bright Horizons
Bright Horizons
By Wilson Harp
Copyright © 2012 by Wilson Harp
All rights reserved
Table of
Contents
Chapter 1
31 March
2042
It was a few
minutes before 1500 when Colonel Kyle Martin strode into the outer office. He
was a Marine through and through; ramrod straight back without the effort that
it would seem to take and eyes that constantly moved, taking in every detail of
a room. He exuded the confidence of a senior officer and the wariness of a man
used to danger. He spoke briefly with the secretary and then sat in a chair to
wait.
General
Davies took a deep breath and prepared himself for this meeting. He had never
seen Colonel Martin shaken, not even during the hearings that occurred some six
years earlier. If that had gone differently, he would be hard pressed to
imagine Martin still in uniform, and that would mean that this meeting, and
indeed this mission, would be much different.
The
door opened right at 1500 and Martin walked in.
“Have
a seat, Colonel Martin,” General Davies gestured to the chair in front of his
desk. “Coffee?”
“No
thank you, General,” Martin said as he sat and made himself comfortable.
A
quick nod from the General to his secretary was followed by a secure click of
the office door closing. Davies lowered himself slowly into the large,
well-worn leather chair facing Martin.
“So
Kyle, it’s been a few years, hasn’t it?” Davies said as both men settled in.
“Yes
sir, I believe it was right after Hyderabad.” A slight wincing was detected in
the Colonel’s body language, but his voice remained firm. “I believe you were
relieving me of command at the time.”
“Look
Kyle, that was six years ago and I didn’t agree with it then. The President was
adamant that you be relieved of command. Congress wanted you court-martialed,
thrown in a cell and left to rot. It was only the direct intervention of
Admiral Rider that you avoided being put before an inquest.” Davies leaned back
and took a deep breath. “The Medal of Honor should have been yours, and
everyone who knows of the situation thinks so. What you did was absolutely the
correct course of action… as the rest of the world will eventually find out.
But I didn’t call you here to hash over old times.”
A
long awkward pause filled the room with a sharp silence.
“Why
did you call me here?” inquired Martin.
Again
a long silence. It was useless to try to make him uncomfortable by waiting,
though, so Davies just pushed forward.
“Kyle,
how familiar are you with NASA?”
“My
sister was a flight specialist until the Endeavor was lost. I guess you could
say that fifteen years of having an astronaut in the family makes me pretty
familiar with the agency.”
“That’s
what I thought,” Davies continued. “Do you know what happened Kyle? What really
happened?”
Martin’s
eye twitched and he stiffened as if weighing his response.
“I
have made a few inquiries with some friends… and… I know that the official
story is part of a cover-up.”
“Yes,
yes, I assumed you would have figured that out. Well, time to show you this.”
Davies pulled out a folder from his desk drawer and placed it on the desk.
“Sir,
that folder is marked SC-07, I don’t have that clearance.”
“You
do now Colonel Martin, you need to take that with you and study it.”
“This
has to do with Cindy’s death?”
“No,
this is your next assignment. I will tell you what happened to your sister. The
Shuttle Endeavor did not crash on the moon. The Shuttle Endeavor was destroyed
in orbit around Mars.”
Martin
was clearly stunned. His mouth moved several times and he had to swallow before
speaking. “Sir, with all due respect, I don’t see how that’s possible. I had
dinner with Cindy three days before the accident. The shuttle couldn’t have
been at Mars. We don’t have that capability.”
Davies’
smile was strained as if he were trying to hold back laughter. “That’s what I
thought, Kyle. But I found out last week that we indeed do have that
capability. In fact, we can reach Mars in less than six hours in the best case,
and less than forty hours even with Mars at the furthest possible position.”
“I’m
sorry sir, but did I hear you correctly? We have the capability to travel to
Mars in a few hours?”
“Yes.
I don’t know the technical mumbo jumbo, but essentially the shuttle goes to a
location where they hook it onto a separate… well basically just an engine with
an engineering crew, and that engine has the power to take it to Mars in a
matter of hours. They had brought the engine, the torpedo they call it, back
to Earth orbit to keep working with it when they stopped getting signals from
the shuttle. They thought it was a communication failure, but when the torpedo
returned the next day to bring the shuttle home, they found that the shuttle
had been destroyed.”
Martin
sat staring at a point on the wall. Davies had seen him like this before. It
was during the final hours before the assault on Hyderabad and Martin had made up
his mind to use the pholux rockets to destroy the city. It was a decision he
couldn’t turn back on once it had been made. It was also a decision that
changed the course of the war and his personal career.
“Sir,
what is my mission?” Martin softly asked.
“I’m
sure you know that there is even more than you can imagine Kyle, and your
briefing folder holds all the data. In short, the United States has made
contact with an alien race and we need a competent escort detachment for our
diplomat. You will need to pick your team, report to Kennedy and go through the
NASA training.”
“An
alien race?” Martin asked skeptically.
“Yes,
this is a first contact situation which is why it is at the top level of
security. It’s all detailed in your package,” Davies said, patting the folder.
“Do
you anticipate trouble?”
“Am
I a Marine?”
They
both laughed for a few seconds before falling back into the professionalism
that the severity of the situation required.
“Kyle,
you need to make sure your team can handle any situation. No specialty without
redundancy and no one looking to make a name for themselves. Linguistics are a
plus, as are any diplo skills.”
Davies
leaned back and looked at the ceiling for a few seconds before locking eyes on
Martin and leaning in as far as he could across the table.
“Because
of the danger involved, no one under 25, no one married, no one with minor
children. That is from the top.”
Martin
broke eye contact for just a split second. Davies knew that his daughter, Sara,
had just turned 18 the month before.
“I
need Ramirez,” Martin stated as if asking for a cup of coffee.
“No.
Out of the question.”
“Then
you can find a new CO.” Martin started to stand.
“Fine.”
Davies sighed leaning back “I’ll have to pull some strings and lean a little,
but you’ll have him.”
Both
men sat in their chairs and looked at each other with a feigned casualness.
“If
you want Ramirez, you can have him. But it’s a risk and you know it.” Davies
was irritated by this demand, but also had expected it. He knew he was going to
spend the rest of his political capital. He figured he might even end up owing
quite a bit to some people he didn’t like owing things too.
“Fine,
it’s a risk. We’re Marines and Alex is the finest Marine I have ever seen.”
“Ok,
well, I think that’s all for now. You have some reading to do and some
decisions to make. You need to be at Kennedy in three weeks, so you better get
started.”
“Thank
you for this opportunity, General. It was good to see you again,” Martin said
as he stood and started to leave. “And thanks for telling me the truth about
Cindy.”
Davies
waited until Martin had walked down the hall and through the double doors
before calling his Secretary in.
“Donna,
clear my schedule today and call my wife and let her know I’m coming home now.
Make sure she has a drink ready for me when I get there.”
He
knew change was coming, and he may have just unleashed the harbinger of doom or
an angel of deliverance upon mankind. Kyle Martin might destroy all humankind
or lead them to a greater age, but it was unlikely that he would have no impact
on history. And it was General Willard Davies who showed him the path.
Chapter 2
04 April
2042
Kyle
stretched and yawned. A quick glance at the clock told him it was 2230 and he
had hours left to go.
The
first few days of his new command were skimming through three disc’s worth of
reports. Most of them were technical specifications and radical physical
theories that he barely was able to comprehend. A few, like the first radio
encounters with the Hedali, as the aliens introduced themselves, would have
been exciting, but they were written by engineers and bureaucrats.
After
he finished stuffing his brain with new information, he had set about going
through the two discs full of biographical data of the Marines eligible for the
security clearance that was required for this assignment.
So
far he had chosen five Marines that had seen action in India and three that had
joined in the six years since the war. He was down to three slots left, and was
having a hard time finding the right Marines.
Another
yawn followed by a failed attempt to coax more coffee from his empty mug
resigned him to getting up and walking to the kitchen for a refill. As he
poured more lukewarm bean leavings, the phone rang.
“Martin.
Go,” he answered in his practiced voice of authority.
“Collect
call from U.S.D.B. for Colonel Kyle Martin. The caller is Alexander Ramirez.
Will you accept the charges?”
“Yes.”
“Colonel
Martin, this is Ramirez, I understand you wanted to contact me?” Alex asked as
smoothly as he could. But there was something beneath it. Maybe anger, maybe
irritation.
“Hi
Alex, I need you for an assignment,” Kyle casually responded.
The
laughter on the other end was loud but short lived.
“Brother,
do you know where I am?”
“Cell
109, United States Disciplinary Barracks, Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. Currently
you are speaking from the Commandant’s office as was requested by the
Pentagon.”
“You’re
crazy, there is no way they are going to let me out. You know that.”
“You
will be released tomorrow at 0700 with a security detachment which will escort
you to the old Whiteman field. There you will be picked up by a small aircraft
and be flown to Kennedy.”
“Are
you serious?”
“Yes.
That is, unless you want to finish your sentence. I understand with good
behavior they might let you out in another eighteen years or so, isn’t it?”
“Twenty
two with good behavior. Which you know isn’t going to happen, so I’ll probably
serve all fifty. What is this about Kyle, why me?”
“Put
Colonel Wilkins on the phone Alex.”
“This
is Colonel Wilkins, how may I help you Colonel Martin?”
“Good
evening Walt, I know this is against standard protocol, but I need you and your
team to leave Ramirez alone in your office. Is your office soundproof?”
“Uh…
no it isn’t Kyle. May I ask why this breach in security is needed?”
“I
am about to communicate some classified information to Ramirez and I’m afraid
you don’t have the clearance needed to be in the same room. May I request that
you vacate your Secretary’s office as well to provide even more security for
our conversation?”
“I
am familiar with his record, and I don’t believe he has higher clearance than I
do, Colonel. Has this changed?”
“It’s
about to. When I give him the information, he will be at SC-07.”
There
was a short pause. Kyle knew Wilkins’ unflappable reputation, but he also knew
how unusual this would seem to him
“Ok,
we will clear out. Have a good evening Colonel.”
“Thank
you Colonel.”
Kyle
exhaled a big breath, that was his last task to get Alex on his team; apart
from Alex agreeing to the terms.
“Kyle,
what did you say to them? Commandant Wilkins just literally pushed his team out
of his office and they are now leaving the area. This never happens.”
“Alex,
are you in?”
“I
don’t know, I mean, how big is this?”
“It’s
big Alex, and there are some rules that you are going to have to live by.”
“What
rules?”
“Your
court-martial ruling still stands and while you will be reinstated as an E-7,
that’s as high as you go for the rest of your career. You are still never to
enter the District of Columbia again. You are still prohibited from being
within one mile of Senator Hovey or any member of his staff or family again.
You will be free after this mission, but only if you agree right now to be part
of my team.”
“If
you want me bad enough to pull off this kind of deal, I guess you really need
me. I’m in.”
“Good.
You are now cleared for SC-07…”
“Whoa,
wait a minute! I grew up in the Marines, my father was a three star by the time
I joined up, and I was on six Delta operations before India. I have never even
heard of that clearance.”
“Neither
had I until eleven days ago. But you are sealed to it now. Can I go on?”
“Yes,
sorry, that just threw me for a loop. Continue please.”
“Ok,
you will be my team leader on this mission. It’s a diplo escort mission, but I
need the best of the best.”
“A
freaking diplo escort? Man, this is insulting. You could grab a couple of
Academy rats to do this run.”
“No,
the Academy rats don’t have the clearance, skills or experience I need on this
one. It’s more than just an escort run, Alex.” Kyle took a deep breath and let
the sentence force its way out. “We are meeting an alien race to sign a
treaty.”
“What…
Are you kidding me?”
“No,
we need to go to Kennedy, get the training needed, and rendezvous with the
alien ship in less than five weeks.”
“Where
are we meeting them?”
“In
orbit around Jupiter.”
“I
think I’m going to be sick.”
“Then
puke and get over it. Colonel Wilkins will process you out tonight. Your escort
will be at the gate at 0700.”
Kyle
hung up the phone and immediately felt lighter. The worry and burden he had
been feeling was greater than he realized, but it was over now.
With
Ramirez on board, he had much less to worry about, but in some ways a little
more to worry about. Alex wasn’t a loose cannon, but he was impulsive. That
instinct, and the complete trust of that instinct, made him one of the most
efficient warriors Kyle had ever known.
Twice
in India he was captured and twice showed up at his Command before a rescue
operation could be launched. He personally led over 200 infantry assaults over
the six-year long war, won two silver stars, five bronze stars and was
considered for a Congressional Medal of Honor before his… incident. And he
never received a purple heart; never so much as had to be patched up by a medic.
His ability to avoid injury while finding the heart of the danger was unreal.
Kyle
rubbed his left thigh as he thought about it. It no longer ached, but every
morning when he took his shower, the puckered scar showed where he had taken
the shrapnel from the mortar strike. He was lucky; a table had landed on him.
His Aide-de-camp, the other two officers he was conferring with, and their
communications tech were not so lucky and were dead by the time the medics got
there.
When
he looked up from the dust and smoke, he had seen Alex crawling out from under
the filing cabinet that had fallen over him shielding him from the blast. Alex
was on his feet by the time the first rescuer had run to the tent, and was
shouting for medics for the wounded and a helo to take out “the curry eating
bastards” that got a mortar that close to their base.
It
was then that Kyle became a superstitious man. Ramirez would be on his team in
any operation he ran from that point forward.
He
settled back down in his chair and picked up the phone again.
“This
is Diane, may I help you.”
“Major
Kitch, this is Colonel Martin. Sorry it’s so late, but your pick up at 0845
tomorrow morning has been confirmed. I’ll be down at Kennedy in three days; the
rest of the team should be there by then.”
“Ok,
Colonel. Is there anyone else who needs a ride while I’m out and about?”
“No,
that should do it, Major. Just give him his folder and let him get adjusted to
being out.”
“Will
do, but how “out” is he going to feel stuck inside a plane for six hours?”
Kyle
laughed at her keen observation. “True, make sure the guys at Kennedy let him
have his run of the facilities. He will perk up a bit after being able to just
walk where he can’t see a fence, I’m sure. Oh, and Diane, make sure you have a
six pack of Dr Pepper chilled for him.”
“Have
a mini-cooler with DP and ice ready to go to the car.”
“Great,
see you in three days.”
Kyle
hung up the phone and dropped down into his chair. He looked over his checklist
and the notes by each Marine’s name.
Alex
would be his team leader, in charge of security and logistics.
Kiskaliski
was a given. No one could handle a weapon like K-man. At least no one Kyle had
ever seen or heard about. Three Lauchheimer trophies by the time he was 21 was
unreal. When he had been selected for his first Omega team, Kyle had personally
ordered him to forgo any future attempts at the award in order to prevent
anyone from looking too close at his service record.
Anderson
and Boone were both career State Department men who had signed up for the
Marines at the start of the Indian war. They had vast linguistic and diplomatic
skills and he knew how they handled themselves under fire.
Kitch
was his go-to girl as one of his pilots. Her sixty-eight confirmed tank kills
in the opening days of the war had landed her on the cover of Time magazine in
front of her A-10d. After that, she continued to have the storybook career. The
Distinguished Flying Cross had earned her an attaché position under Admiral
Rider while he was in charge of the Joint Chiefs. Kyle met her right after
Hyderabad and was impressed by her intelligence and ability to handle stress.
He had never seen anyone better at handling an emergency.
Sergeant
Major Carl Williams was just amazing. In addition to being a genius with
anything mechanical, he had a PhD in philosophy from Harvard, spoke six
languages, and was the son of a Marine General. He was also involved in
eighteen firefights in Delhi and Mumbai and had earned two bronze stars, a
silver star and the Navy Cross, so he could hold his own under fire.
Williams
had highly recommended Corporal Terry Ranke for the mission after learning the
details. Ranke had dropped out of MIT after two years because he didn’t feel
challenged. He joined the Marines at the age of twenty four after several years
of boredom in the private sector servicing Cray’s as a freelancer. Kyle added
another mechanic that Williams had worked with during the war, Sergeant Ben
Hollis.
So,
he needed another pilot, another security member, and another mechanic to fill
out his roster. He looked over his spreadsheet again. Sixteen pilots to review,
forty-five Marines that had great combat experience for security, and nine
engineers recommended by Williams and some contacts at NASA.
Kyle
took another drink of coffee and pulled up another comparison chart.