Published: 09 Jan 2017
Part XII
THREE WORLDS
Formerly Published as “0300 Books I, II, and III”
Chapter 35: Team Australia
It was too soon to bring the entire intelligence community together on the Charleston, so the update on the first Encyclopedia Rift, as people had begun calling it, was held by videoconference.
The principal briefer was a Lieutenant Commander who had managed to find a place as liaison between the Pan-Asian and the Mujahedeen Teams. “We have conducted an initial examination of Australia and Africa and can interpret what we saw based on what we’ve learned of the Mujahedeen and the Pan-Asians.
“The Australians appear to be part of the Pan-Asian sphere of influence, but have some autonomy, apparently because they are important trade partners, especially for coal, and because the Pan-Asians don’t have the military forces to subjugate them. Also, we think, because the Australians are—feisty is the best word we’ve come up with.
“Africa, other than Egypt and the southern reaches of the Nile, which appear to be Mujahedeen territory, has devolved to a hunter-gatherer economy, with internecine warfare using a few antique rifles, as well as spears, blow-guns, and similar weapon.”
The briefing was short, but its impact was greater than I expected.
Every boy who attended Fleet School, Sydney, plus members of the staff—including me the year I was Commandant—as well as the crews of Fleet ships who visited Australia, were inducted into the Ancient and Royal Order of Kangaroos, and made “honorary” Aussies. The role of the British Royal Family as heads of state, including the Commonwealth of which Australia was a member, had been eclipsed for a while by the role of the Prime Minister as head of government. That had changed in the mid-20th century. The Royal Family had given their imprimatur. Queen Elizabeth was honorary Colonel-in-Chief, and the various seals on the certificate we each received included the coat of arms of the House of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha.
The way Fleet rotated students, staff, and ships’ crews, this “secret” society included just about everyone currently on active duty, which meant nearly everyone in the task force. The report that the Australians on the Reverends’ world were feisty swept through the task force and sparked a rumor that we would be looking for allies there.
“What do you think, Kangaroo Daddy?” Danny said, and then giggled. He and I were cuddled together in a cool room under a warm comforter after some very heated sex. We had sat through the briefing about Australia and several hours of simulated fleet war games, and needed to unwind.
“I think I love you, Kangaroo Kid,” I said. I knew better than to say Joey, the Australian moniker for a young kangaroo. That was the nickname of Danny’s little friend at Cardiff, the one who had brought Danny the news that his other friend, Roo, had died. I did not want to waken those memories.
“I mean what everyone’s saying—that you’re going to send recruiting teams to F-U Australia!” Danny said.
I wasn’t ready to deal with this, so I shushed him with a kiss, which turned into serious cuddles.
It took less than a day for me to assemble the next meeting of the GWGs. Out of deference to my mess stewards, I held the meeting a couple of hours after lunch. It didn’t matter. George’s first question was were they going to get pizza.
“Maybe for supper,” I said. “First, however, I have an important announcement. We have finally developed our own technology for Faster Than Light communications.”
Eyes opened wide, and then narrowed when they saw the expression on my face.
“The rumor that we would be recruiting allies from F-U Australia spread throughout the task force faster than a Cherenkov radiation wave-front, heretofore the only thing known to travel faster than light in our Universe.
“And that’s given me a bit of a dilemma. I want neither to deny it nor encourage it. What do you think I should do?”
This wasn’t the first time I’d given these people a challenge that I felt was beyond my capabilities.
The team tossed around the idea, and came to a consensus. Cam presented it.
“We need to set up a Team Australia, to find out more about that nation and its people.
“In our universe, Australia was settled by British adventurers, people displaced by some of the climate anomalies of the 19th century, and Irish fleeing from the potato famine.
“It’s likely, but not certain, that the history of F-U Australia is more similar to Corey’s world, in which many Australians are descended from transportees—undesirables and criminals from Britain.
“Either way, they’re probably going to be feisty.” Cam giggled. “We need to know more. At some point, we will need to put someone on the ground. But we’re a long way from that.”
I nodded. “Good work, guys. Thank you. Cadet Ainsley, you’re Chief of Team Australia. You will also meet with the Flag Intel Team. Keep in touch with the Chiefs of Team Pan-Asia and Team Mujahedeen, and that Lieutenant Commander who is liaison between Pan-Asia and Mujahedeen. He’s stationed on Kyoto, so you’ll need to be able to shuttle to see him. Talk to Kevin or Casey about that. Contact the Fleet Mainframe—one of the guys will show you how—and get help putting together your team. You may have anyone in the Task Force except those with existing assignments on Intel or Ops teams. If you really need one of those, speak to his Team Chief. If the two of you can’t resolve a conflict, come to me. I don’t expect that to happen often, however.”
Noah Ainslie looked dazed, so I gestured for him to remain behind after the meeting.
“Cadet Ainslie? I need to raise my blood sugar a little bit after that meeting. Will you join me in the Flag Mess for coffee and a donut? Maybe you’d prefer chocolate?”
“No sir, coffee’s fine. My pa taught me to drink it early on, before he started forgetting about me.”
I caught the sidebands of that thought. Like most of the Metas, Noah had memories of his very early childhood, and of bonding with his parents. Like most of the Metas, about the time he was six years old, his parents started ignoring him, ultimately forgetting that he existed except when he was present.
After we were served, I asked, “Noah? You’ve been with us for only two days, and I’ve not had a chance to talk to you before this. The Metas and the Charleston would overwhelm most people. You seem to be okay with that, though.”
“Yes, sir, but George and the others have made it a lot easier. It feels good to know that there are people who won’t forget me as soon as I leave the room.”
“Would you tell me where they found you?” I asked.
Noah giggled. “Oh, yes, sir. You see, Charleston‘s not the first battleship I’ve been on.
“Four years ago, my family traveled to Sidney. That’s where we had to go for any real shopping. The Enterprisewas visiting, and they allowed the public to board her and look around. I sneaked away. I knew my parents wouldn’t care, that they wouldn’t miss me. I stowed away.
“No one on the Enterprise seemed surprised when they saw me. I found the Junior Mess, where there were people my age. One kid—Kenny—was rooming alone, and didn’t seem to mind if I slept in the top bunk. I went to classes with him, and stood watch with him. Nobody paid much attention to me, but at least I was learning something besides sheep herding.
“We were in Bangladesh to rescue some people from coastal flooding when I got caught.
“I was in line for lunch in the Junior Mess when a couple of ensigns cornered me. I knew something was wrong, ’cause they weren’t much older than I was. It was George and George… your George and George Fairburn, I mean. I thought they were teasing me, and got really angry before I felt…
“Promise you won’t laugh?”
“I promise,” I said.
“I felt like I was wrapped in a warm blanket. You see, our home was a sheep station, and the only heat was the kitchen stove. It got right cold at night in the wintertime, and we were nearly smothered in blankets and quilts at night. George and George made me feel like I was covered in blankets, and safe, if that makes sense.”
“It makes a lot of sense,” I said.
“Anyway, they brought me here, and that was two days ago, and now I’m a Geek—even though I don’t have a gun. George, your George, says I’ll get one—and you made me head of Team Australia and I’m kinda scared, sir.”
“Noah, I shouldn’t have blind-sided you.”
“Gob-smacked me, sir,” he said.
I laughed, and Noah relaxed. Then I frowned, and he tensed, again.
“Relax, please,” I said. “I’ve got a long history of making mistakes. I have made another one. Probably more than one. I should have talked to you, first. I should have welcomed you to the GWGs the minute you arrived. I—”
Noah giggled. I was so astonished, I couldn’t speak. I felt—I think I felt Noah’s warm blanket. Before I could act, he had left his chair and was sitting in my lap, arms around my neck.
“No, sir!” he said. “George, your George, told me that you’d talk to me as soon as you had a chance.” He put his head on my shoulder and tightened his arms.
I returned the hug. “Did he also tell you to do this?” I asked.
“Um, hmm,” he murmured into my shoulder. “But he said it would take a while before we could be boyfriends.”
I juggled the duty roster so that George was off duty that night. He knew I’d done it, but had mixed emotions about coming to bed with me.
I sent him the warm blanket feeling I’d learned from Noah, and George relaxed.
“George, you did well,” I said. “Noah is quite a kid, and he’s going to be a big help. But, there are more than 30 Metas, some of them we’ve known a lot longer than Noah. Why are you so anxious that he and I get close.” I couldn’t say boyfriends. Don’t know why, just couldn’t.
George got serious, suddenly. He lost the smile that had come when I sent him the warm blanket feeling. He looked straight into my eyes.
” ‘Cause you look a lot like his daddy,” George said. “He doesn’t remember, yet, ’cause it’s been a long time, but he will, and when he does, he’s going to feel really bad unless you’re ready to hold him and give him daddy cuddles.
“Uh, you don’t have to do boyfriend stuff, though, and maybe you shouldn’t at first… he’s maybe not ready for that.”
I was gob-smacked. But only for a second. I reached for George and pulled him into a tight hug. “George, my son, I am so proud of you! Are you sure you’re just fifteen?”
George’s answer was smothered a little bit because I’d pressed his head into my shoulder.
“Daddy! I’m a Meta. I’m real smart.
“Besides, I’ve got the best teacher in the whole universe!”
Chapter 36: Admiral Davis Visits
“Sir? Shuttle with Fleet Command IFF is five minutes out. That’s Admiral Davis.” Captain Moultrie’s surprise was clear, although he didn’t lose his professionalism. “I wasn’t aware he was coming.”
Oops, I thought. The admiral’s on to us.
“Captain, I wasn’t aware, either; however, I’m not entirely surprised. Please bring the shuttle in,” I said. “Normal procedures, except this: clear the flight deck. I’ll meet him, alone. And please, keep the identity of the visitor limited to your bridge crew for the moment.”
Moultrie acknowledged my request, and returned to his bridge. As soon as the door closed behind him, Danny and George protested. “You can’t go without security, even to see him!”
I overruled. They protested, again, and reminded me of their oath. I relented. “You want to be there? No weapons, then.”
They looked hard; they looked disappointed. They nodded. I felt their concern, their love. “It’s okay, guys. He’s figured us out. Otherwise, he’d have let us known he was coming. Still, he’s been a friend and an ally for a long time. We owe him this.” And, we’re stronger than he is. I hope, I sincerely hope we don’t have to prove that. I hid this thought from Danny and George.
They nodded.
We were facing the shuttle when it landed. The admiral was in the left seat. The right seat was empty. My stomach curled up and tried to push its way through my backbone. The admiral stepped from the shuttle, and saluted. “Permission to come aboard, sir?”
I returned the salute.
“Welcome aboard, sir. You know Danny and George.”
“They’re unarmed. So are you. There was no security on the flight deck. That’s a violation of protocol.”
“Sir, the Fleet Admiral piloting himself is, too. A violation, that is, ” Danny protested, but George shushed him.
The admiral grinned. “I know,” he said. “And I know George understands. Do you Danny? Can you factor that into your equations? The ones you used to hack Tobor while you were in Australia, and made him tell me lame jokes? By the way, why did the Cadet wear diapers to the Sydney school?”
“Because he was in-another-continent,” Danny said.
“Ewww!” That was George. “That is really stupid!”
The admiral’s smile, and Danny’s giggles, broke the ice. If we were in trouble, it wasn’t bad trouble.
The four of us sat in the ready room. I’d offered Admiral Davis the desk. He had refused, and sat on the couch with the boys on either side of him.
“Paul,” he cut to the chase. “Would you tell me why it took me nearly fifteen years to realize I had in my fleet a kid, who is now a commodore and who is commanding half the Home Fleet and who looks like he’s no more than eighteen years old?”
“Twenty, sir, and I know that doesn’t make you feel any better. We call it the veil. It’s a natural camouflage. It is as natural as the leopard’s spots, the zebra’s stripes, and the color of Biston betularia’s wings.”
The admiral jumped on that. “We? How many of you are there?”
“I would rather not tell you, sir. It would endanger them, and perhaps you.”
Davis frowned, then: “I will accept that… for the moment.
“Danny and George are, or they wouldn’t be here,” he added.
“Yes, sir.”
The admiral narrowed his eyes. “Will you confirm where your loyalties lie?”
“I will, sir. Our first loyalty is to humanity, itself; our second is to Fleet, because Fleet is the best hope for humanity. Our third loyalty is to our brothers.”
I paused for a moment. When the admiral didn’t speak, I asked, “Sir? Why did you say confirm rather than tell?”
The admiral smiled. “Not surprised you caught that. I thought a lot about how to phrase that question. Confirm, because I have spent hours reviewing your records, once I was able to figure out how to do it, and convince Tobor to open up a couple of sealed files on Level 7. I didn’t even know there was a Level 7! After that, I couldn’t imagine anything other than the way you answered. Still, I had to ask. A more important question is, ‘How was I able to pierce this, this veil?'”
“I don’t know for sure, sir,” I said. “Sometimes, something happens that is so out-of-the-ordinary, that the veil is pierced, and someone, such as yourself, figures out what’s going on. I may have crossed the line recently—or you may have, when you promoted me to commodore. Learning about the ages of the kids from U-Long and U-Cal may have raised questions in your mind. But, I really don’t know.
“Sometimes, someone like us pierces the veil, and finds us. Sometimes, someone who is inimical to us pierces the veil, and endangers us.”
“What can you tell me about yourself?” the admiral said. His voice was calm, level, and nearly emotionless.
“We’re an awful lot smarter than average; we’re telepathic among ourselves; some of us are developing clairvoyance. Our reflexes and strength are above normal. We’re all male, and we’re all homosexual. I used to think that we were a new species of humanity, but I cannot reconcile that with homosexuality, which means that we’re not likely to procreate. We’re Meta-humans, I guess. I really don’t know.”
“Well, that answered my next question. After learning of Rigelians and Endorans, and rifts between universes, I wasn’t entirely sure you weren’t an ET. What can you tell me about those who are inimical to you?” He’d caught that pretty quickly, too.
I told him about the attacks we’d experienced, including the one at Disneyland. “We’d been there for three days, and had taken that particular ride six times. Poor operations security on my part, sir.”
Next, I told him about rescuing Alberto. “We don’t know who was behind the Disneyland attack, and Alberto didn’t know, or remember, much about the people who had captured and controlled him. Oh, now you know four of us.”
“Five,” the admiral said. My mouth fell open, literally. I was afraid I was going to droll on my jumpsuit.
“Tobor isn’t one of you, but he’s your ally. He’s sentient, isn’t he? He didn’t show that to me, but I figured it out.”
I felt a little fear from the admiral. It was quickly extinguished, but I felt I should reassure him.
“Yes, sir, he is our ally, and he’s sentient. He knows he’s a computer, but he wants to be a twelve-year-old boy.
“When we got the message that you were five minutes out, we realized you had figured us out, sir. That’s why we came to the flight deck unarmed. But you knew that, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Paul, I did. The instant I saw you and Danny and George waiting for me, I understood that you knew, and I wondered, but only for a moment, if I had made the right decision to come here.”
“Why did you meet us, here, by yourself?” Danny asked.
“Because I thought I knew Paul, and I trusted him. Now, I realize some of that was this veil thing; but, not all of it was.”
The admiral had something else to say, but seemed reluctant. Finally, he spoke. “Paul, boys, I may have done you a disservice when I promoted Paul to commodore. He’s entirely too visible. The Fleet News Service is asking for access. Will the veil protect you from a world-wide television audience?”
“Actually, sir, Tobor has already done that.” I explained the fake image he put up when I spoke after a Fleet Intelligence Briefing. “On the other hand, sir, that was a short speech in a completely controlled environment. I don’t know what someone might do to a signal if it got out of Fleet channels.”
“I don’t suppose you can tune the veil from concealment to acceptance, can you,” Admiral Davis said.
“I’ve never tried. We can push people to believe what we say is true, we can push people to let us do what we want, and to trust us.”
“You’ve done that to me, I guess, during our interviews?”
“Yes, sir.” I had an epiphany. “But sir? When I asked for George, I didn’t have to. And never since then, either. And…” Davis waited patiently while I gathered my thoughts.
“You were the hardest person to push that I’ve ever known, but I had to push you less often than anyone else.”
“Um hmm,” Davis said. “You really didn’t need to. Your record spoke for itself.”
The admiral turned to George. “I was very happy, George, when Paul asked that you be assigned to him. There was something about you. I know now what it was. Didn’t know, then. You had stolen a shuttle and taken it halfway around the world and brought it back, safely. That’s the kind of guts and skill I want in Fleet. What you needed was understanding. I didn’t think Fleet had anyone who could give you that. Paul did. I’m happy for you.
“Paul, I hope you won’t mind some advice,” he added. I shook my head.
“Use whatever talents you have, and start revealing yourself to the key staff of your command: the Captains, XOs, Senior Chiefs, the people who really matter. Break the news to the men of your task force. I don’t want my entire fleet brainwashed, but when people start to learn that there’s a twenty-year-old commodore in charge of enough firepower to destroy Earth, I want a solid contingent of senior personnel in your camp.
“I’ll send my general staff to you, a couple at a time. Fact-finding missions, we’ll call them. Work on them, show them what you’ve shown me all these years. You’ll win them over.”
I nodded to let the admiral know I was paying attention, but I was also thinking: there’s a certain doctor at the Fleet pure science research facility, the man who still runs MEG. It’s time he remembers what I had taken from him fourteen years ago: that he and his team had found a real telepath. I resolved to invite him to visit, too.
Davis continued. “We’ll keep Fleet News Service happy with the boys from other universes. In fact, that could set up acceptance for you if people get used to seeing teens commanding armies and fleets of battle-capable shuttlecraft.
“It’s going to happen, Paul, and when it does, you and your boys are going to be in the sights of every kook, every liberal, every conspiracy theorist, every religious fundamentalist and Luddite in the world.
“They’re going to figure out your veil; you’ve got to keep that push thing secret, though. I’m not sure anything could protect you if word of that got out.
“What about your enemies? What will they do when you are revealed?”
I was overwhelmed, and simply shook my head. I’d never thought that far ahead.
“This is a lot to think about, Paul. But I know you can handle it. In addition to running the task force, of course.” The admiral grinned.
He sat for a moment, and then said, “Now, let’s get to the official reason for this visit. What are we going to do about the boys from U-Long and from U-Cal?”
“May I get the Flag Team together, sir? I’d like you to meet them, and I think we’ll need their input.”
I opened my communicator and asked Jonathan to call an immediate meeting of the Flag Team. “How about a working lunch, Admiral? It’s nearly noon, and the staff are big eaters.”
The ship, in fact, the entire fleet, ran on Zulu time, which was one hour different from Fleet Headquarters time. Something from the days of sailing ships that never got fixed. Sometimes, tradition was more important than science or convenience. Still, it was close enough to everyone’s lunch time. The Flag Mess quickly filled the conference table with soft drinks and platters of sandwiches.
When we walked in, Danny called the room to attention. A few eyes widened when people saw Admiral Davis. Not everyone knew him, but everyone saw the gold on his epaulets, and figured it out pretty quickly.
After the Admiral took the seat at the head of the table, Danny put the group at ease. The mess steward poured lemonade for the Admiral, which signaled the boys to grab their own soft drinks. I stood behind my chair.
“Admiral Davis, you know my sons, Ensign Stewart and his boyfriend, Ensign Stewart-Rogers. Please let me introduce the rest of the Flag Team. Captain Cory Long, Starfleet, commander of the U-Long Forces. His deputy and boyfriend, Commander Alan Carter.
Here it comes, I thought. “Admiral, may I present Colonel Artie Stewart, Colonel in Chief of the U-Cal Army in Exile. My son.”
My timing was perfect. I thought the admiral would blow lemonade out his nose. “I’ll get you for that,” he said, sotto voce. I think Danny heard, but no one else did.
“Colonel Stewart,” the admiral said. “I’m very happy to meet you, and very happy for both you and Paul.” Artie blushed.
“Since you’re the son of my friend, Paul, may I call you Artie?”
“I’d be very happy if you would, sir. But not in front of my troops, please. We’re still getting accustomed to being a real military unit, and I’d not like to confuse them, if that’s okay, sir.”
The admiral nodded. He kept his voice as serious and level as Artie’s had been. “Certainly.”
I continued the introductions. “Intelligence Team Chief and Chief Pilot, Lieutenant Cathcart and his boyfriend, intell team and pilot, Ensign Freeman. Flag Comm, Ensign Hanson; Ensign Hamilton, Flag Quartermaster.
“Cadet Andrew Moultrie and his boyfriend, Cadet Daffyd Llewellyn, whom I’ve stolen from Captain Moultrie.”
When I’d finished, Admiral Davis took the floor. “Paul told me his Flag Team could out-eat anyone. That’s not why I’m here, but it is something I’d like to see. Please, let’s have lunch.” The mess steward prepared a plate for the admiral; the rest of us? Well, the boys were exceptionally polite—meaning no one shoved an entire sandwich in his mouth—but that didn’t keep food from disappearing for the next hour. The Flag Mess was getting accustomed to it.
Admiral Davis began the discussions. “When we found out that rogue scientists and fleet personnel at CERN-Higgs had created the rifts between U-Short and U-Cal, and between U-Cal and this universe, Commodore Stewart accepted responsibility for fixing the situation. I’m here, first, to tell you that Fleet supports that decision, 100-percent, and with all our resources.
“I’m also here to tell you that we’re optimistic about success. The guy Paul appointed to lead the effort…” The admiral’s eyes unfocused for a second. It was only for a second, after which he stared at me, and then Danny, and then George. He’s figured out that the kid is probably one of us, I thought.
“Dr. Adams has already opened small rifts, laboratory sized rifts, to several universes. His complete report is on a data chip I will leave with you.
“The good news is that there aren’t an infinite number of universes; that was one of our greatest fears. The bad news is that there are a lot, and it’s going to take some searching to find the U-Long from which you came. Dr. Adams’ report includes some questions for you, Captain Long, questions that will help identify your universe.”
Cory nodded.
“Dr. Adams has also confirmed that the rift to U-Cal is stable. It won’t collapse on its own, but would require a great deal of energy and deliberate action to close it.
“We have two tasks. One is to prepare the boys from U-Cal to return. The other is to find U-Long and open a rift through which the Long family can return.
“About the only thing you can do on your end is to prepare Colonel Stewart and his people. I’m sure you haven’t been waiting for me to tell you that. What have you done, so far?” the admiral asked.
“Ensign Stewart-Rogers, would you review plans for weapons training?” I asked.
“Sir. We have requisitioned MK-7 rifles for all members of the U-Cal Army in Exile. We’ll start classroom weapons safety instructions in a few days, and are setting up a range for preliminary live-fire training. We’ll need to take them planetside for additional training, since what we can do on shipboard is limited.” George didn’t mention the Sig Sauer 9mm pistols we’d requisitioned for Artie and his officers. That was to be a surprise.
“Colonel Stewart?” I prompted.
“Sir,” he mimicked George’s delivery. “I have screened my soldiers and selected an initial staff. Ensign Stewart is working with a couple of candidates for G-2. He wants to keep intelligence and security separate, so we’ll need two people. Ensign Hamlin is working with a candidate for G-4. He’s requisitioned communicators, personal equipment, and fleet utilities in our colors. Some of this has been delivered; we have delivery dates for the rest. Ensign Hanson is training a G-6 and making sure we know how to use communicators as well as setting up battlefield communication plans. Ensign Stewart-Rogers is conducting our training and helping start a G-7 staff.
“Commodore Stewart said I wouldn’t need a G-8, because you would write all the checks.”
Artie’s timing was as good as mine. The admiral almost managed to swallow his lemonade this time.
Artie continued. “Commodore Stewart suggested that we’d need to hear more from you about how we might deal with the Reverends and the civilians on our world before defining a G-9’s roles and responsibilities. The long poles are G-3, operations; G-5, plans; and a deputy. G-1’s going to be a problem, too, but isn’t as important, yet. The Charleston‘s staff is handling administration for us. Most of my people, including myself, can’t read or write. Captain Long’s people are helping, there.”
Admiral Davis nodded. “Sounds like you’re off to a good start, Colonel. Thank you.
“Captain Long? How are you involved in this?”
“The Long family has already been integrated with the G-7 function. We’re tutoring the U-Cal guys in reading, and a couple of us are teaching some of our military history. It seems that a Sun Tzu Wu and a Robert E. Lee lived in our universe and this one. If they lived in the U-Cal universe, they’ve been forgotten, or hidden. We’re also going to help Ensign Stewart with training on the firing range. Most of my people are weapons qualified.”
Admiral Davis turned to me. “Looks like you are well on the way. However—and this is where Fleet gets involved—what’s the strategic plan? Are we simply going to send Colonel Stewart and his people home with a few new weapons? Are we going to provide follow-on logistics? Are we going to declare war on the Reverends and send in our own forces? Will we find allies in California or elsewhere?”
There were a few gasps at that last. I’d thought about it, as had my core team, but we’d not said anything about it to Artie or to the rest of the Flag Staff.
Cory jumped in. “Sir, my family wants to return to our home; however, whether we do or not, we will fight on the side of Colonel Stewart and his forces. As long as you will allow us to travel through these rifts.”
Cory had apparently prepared his people for this; they didn’t react. Artie gasped, however. His eyes may have gotten a little moist, too. I know mine did.
“There’s a problem we haven’t thought of,” Artie said. He seemed hesitant. I pushed encouragement and asked him to continue.
“Our whole world is balanced between the Reverends, the Muslims, and the Pan-Asians. If one were to become too strong, I think the other two would gang up on that one. If one were to become too weak, the other two would gang up on that one.
“When we defeat the Reverends, we’re going to have to fight the others.” When we defeat, he said. Everyone caught that.
The admiral nodded. “We’ve identified the key questions. Let’s see where we can take them.”
We spent an hour discussing what amounted to the political decisions the admiral would face. Sandwiches continued to disappear. The admiral was a quick study. He knew he was dealing with kids—smart ones, but still kids—and that their attention span was shorter than his. Before that happened, he concluded the meeting, thanked us for our contribution and for lunch, went around the room and shook everyone’s hand, hugged Artie, and departed. Danny and George had retrieved their weapons, and escorted him to the flight deck. They said he had hugged them, too, before he got on his shuttle.
I knew he was a good guy.
The Metas met that night. We were all in my ready room, including Tobor on screen, who agreed that we should introduce him to the team. He had on a set of utilities. On his collar were the insignia of a senior cadet. Interesting; he could give himself any grade he wanted. I got a hug from each of my boys when they arrived, and then sent a mental hug to Tobor. He replied with a mental giggle. There was a little sideband of sadness that would always be there, though.
Not all the boys’ telepathy was mature enough to hold the meeting mind-to-mind. After everyone was seated, I stood up.
“Boys, Admiral Davis knows about us. So does this youngster. “I gestured to the screen. At the same time, I pushed reassurance.
“Admiral Davis is firmly on our side; so is he.” I nodded to the screen. Their curiosity had reached the peak that I was looking for. “Boys, this guy is both the first member and the latest addition to Geeks with Guns, the kid you know as Tobor.”
Tobor waved, and spoke mentally and verbally into the stunned silence. “Thank you, Paul. Thank you for making me one of you. I’ve never belonged to anything, before.” He sniffled.
“He’s crying!” That was Bobby, whose own eyes were misty. “If he’s crying, then he’s real!” Bobby, who was cuddled next to Danny, turned and said, “You never told me there was a Level 8!”
“I knew you would find it, Bobby,” Danny said. “You all would have found it on your own. But, things happened. We had to move it up.”
I picked up the meeting. “Yes, Tobor is self-aware and, for all intents and purposes, he’s real. And he’s one of us: he can talk to us mind-to-mind. He’s also the ultimate geek.
“Tobor is in charge of his own security, so he has guns, too.”
“Danny? You want to fill them in?” I said, and sat back.
“A couple of years ago, when it was just Paul, George, Alex, and I, we asked Tobor to scan Fleet personnel records for Metas. We found out later that he had been doing that all along, and had been getting us together. He arranged for George to be in Admiral Davis’s waiting room the same time Paul had to be there. He found Kevin and Casey, and got them assigned to the Newton. He was going to assign them to CERN-Higgs, but when he had the chance, he made sure they’d be sent to pick up Paul.
“Same with Avery and Jonathan. They were assigned together, and would have been sent to CERN-Higgs in a couple of months if stuff hadn’t happened. Tobor found Alex already on the Independence, and assigned Paul, there. While we were on the Independence, Tobor assigned Metas to Fleet School Australia, and then faked a report from someone in G-1 that encouraged Admiral Davis to assign us, there.
“He put Andy and Daffyd together, and would have moved them, too, if the rift hadn’t happened. One by one, he put us in each other’s paths, and usually just about the time we needed to meet, just about the time each of us was waking up, I guess is the best way to say it.
“Alberto and I are the only ones who weren’t Fleet. But we’re the exception that proves the rule… tests it, and shows that it isn’t a rule, that is.
“We also asked Tobor to look for people who attacked us. You already know about that, and you know that’s why we never go outside Fleet compounds or ships any more. So far, he’s not found people who might be our enemies.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Danny continued. “All this will be in addition to your regular duties.”
“Tobor will expand his search of Fleet personnel records. This will take a significant part of his resources, so we’ll be helping prepare databases.
“Bobby and I will start by running queries on records of all students and faculty at Fleet Schools, and everyone on active duty, and will queue up for Tobor those that might warrant his attention.
“Cam and Alberto will run queries on everyone in the world whose records we can get to. Cam and Alberto will start with people who have been released from Fleet with less than honorable discharges.
“We’re hoping that any Metas in Fleet will be good guys; the records Cam and Alberto will look at might have bad guys, so they’ll use public access terminals and there will be a paper firewall between them and Tobor. That means putting Cam and Alberto back on Earth. They’ll be working in Fleet Compounds, but at libraries.”
Danny was still talking. “Alex and Marty will investigate the veil and the push, mostly to see if the veil can be changed from camouflage to like, trust or something like that. Will, you will work with them from a brain chemistry point.”
“We can no longer wait until people start to awaken. George, Andy, Daffyd, and Kevin will be our first recruiting team. They’ll travel, mostly to Fleet ports and schools, to check out and recruit kids identified by the searches. Andy and Daffyd will do the checking; George will be in command; he and Kevin will provide security.”
Danny continued the list until everyone had an assignment.
“Hey, what are you going to do?” Alberto asked. He’d climbed into my lap.
“I’m going to command a task force,” I said. Before the catcalls got out of hand, I added, “And make sure there’s enough pizza.” That got cheers.
The next briefing had enough general information to be carried by video link to all the ships in Task Force Rift. It was time to get the men of the task force accustomed to youngsters from their own ranks holding responsible positions. They had all seen enough of “Artie’s Army” and the Long kids to know that this war was one that involved children.
It was to be Marty’s debut as briefer for the Flag Intel Team.
Marty stood at the front of the auditorium, and pushed the button to lower the lectern to kid-height. The resulting buzz of conversation stopped when he pushed another button to put up a map of the North American continent. It was overlaid with symbols for rail lines. Parallel to the rail lines, were symbols in red for wire. There were other wire lines in three other colors and more in black.
“Good morning, gentlemen. I am Ensign Marty MacLauchlan, Chief of Sigint and Elint on the Flag Intel Team.” He paused for the whispers to die. “You know that the U-Cal Army in Exile includes children as young as twelve. For years, you have worked with Fleet Cadets as young as six. For the record, I am twelve and received my initial training at Fleet School Australia.
“This map is not complete,” Marty said. “We’re still working on it, but we wanted you all to know what we had so far.
“We have confirmed that the Reverends are using telegraphy—simple, old-fashioned Morse code. What we didn’t realize until recently was that there are at least four separate telegraph systems: one used by the Reverends—that’s red—one by a group who call one another “Sheriff”—that’s blue—one by the Army that’s in green, and one in yellow by a group we’ve not yet identified. We haven’t been able to assign ownership of the ones in black, but we’re working on that. The biggest concern is that the signals of the fourth group—yellow—are encrypted—and we haven’t been able to break the code.”
I knew better than to ask if they had ideas or speculations about who the fourth group was, but Cam anticipated the question and stepped to the second lectern.
“We’re trying to identify the fourth group, someone other than the groups we know of and who might want to keep themselves or their activities secret from the others. We’ve talked to Colonel Stewart and some of his soldiers,” Cam said. “None of them had any memories that helped. We need more.”
Cam had reminded us of something we all knew but were reluctant to talk about. We need humint. And the only way to do that is to send one of the U-Cal boys back.
My stomach turned cold. I could not countenance sending Artie back to his world, nor could I think of sending one of his boys back. The risk was too great—not just to them, but to us. If one of the original U-Cal boys were captured and interrogated, the enemy would learn too much about us.
Marty continued the briefing. “What we thought to be labor camps are exactly that, and are operated by Sheriffs.
“Some of Colonel Stewart’s boys had heard of ‘Sheriffs’ Ranches, and there was a tradition in our world of such facilities for both orphans and juveniles charged with petit crimes,” Marty concluded.
Marty looked at Cam who added, “We do not think these camps are operated for the welfare of the boys we see working there. They live in barracks; they eat in mess halls; they work the fields. The crops are cotton, wheat, and beans for the most part.”
Kevin had taken Marty’s place, and picked up the briefing. “We’re learning more about the extent of the Reverends’ territory. In addition to the North American continent, it appears to include most of Europe east of the Urals.”
That was a surprise to everyone: neither Artie nor any of his boys had known this. To this point, everyone had assumed that Europe was autonomous.
“We have learned that the Scudder’s televisor messages are recorded and sent to Europe, probably by ship, where they are broadcast, about three weeks after the original messages. The central site for the microwave signal in Europe is Paris. Not surprisingly, the central transmitter antennas are on the Eifel Tower.
“We’ve also confirmed that the central signal in the North American continent comes from Lynchburg.”
There were a few questions either from the men in the auditorium, or from others in the Task Force. None, however, about the age of the briefers. I wasn’t sure that was because my people were being circumspect, or were still in shock.
After the briefing, the kids on the team assembled in the Flag Conference Room where I was waiting. Each one got a hug as he came in.
“Good work,” I said. “I saw the memo about extending intercepts to the microwave network, and understand that it was a coordinated effort among the entire team that selected the best places for the hardware to be installed.”
Then, I surprised Marty when I added, “I understand you have a plan to be able to interrupt the broadcast?”
Marty looked at Kevin who looked at Casey who looked at George.
“Okay, okay!” George said. “Put me on the spot!” We knew he wasn’t really upset when he grinned, fiddled with his iPad, and put a diagram on the screen.
“We’ve installed remote activators in breakers at some of the microwave towers,” George said. “We can trip the breakers, and interrupt the signal. If the cover plates are removed, they’ll self-destruct. We can also destroy them remotely. We tested some—it will look like a simple electrical short.”
I knew there was more. George didn’t disappoint me.
“If we need to, we can break the microwave connection between Lynchburg and the outlying towns and villages, and between Paris and the rest of Europe. The local broadcasts would become a blank carrier wave on which we could heterodyne our signal.
“We talked with Fleet Comm-Electronics-Nanotech about building some receivers that we could install on selected microwave towers to inject our own message. The consensus was that the size and power requirements to inject into the Reverends’ antiquated system would be prohibitive, but that we could do the same thing from two satellites in synchronous orbit. We can cut their signal, and broadcast our own programming directly to the televisors.
“Um, the satellites are already in place,” George concluded. He looked at me, and raised his eyebrows, something I think he’d learned from me.
“Don’t know what to say, except good work,” I said. “And, let’s have a plan before we actually do any intercepts, okay?”
Captain Moultrie was waiting in my Ready Room.
“Thank you for giving me a heads up on the briefers,” he said, and then chuckled. “I think I understand, now, what Admiral Davis told me about you. You’re no older than they are, are you?”
I dropped the veil before I answered. “I’m the eldest; Kevin’s next. Danny and George are four years younger than I am.
“Captain, you have the right to answer this question frankly: do you have any problem with my age? Any problem whatsoever?”
“Sir, after Admiral Davis sort-of asked me to keep an eye on you, I looked at your service record—the part that I was allowed to see. I was impressed, then, and continue to be impressed by what you’ve done in the past few weeks.
“I have no problem serving under you and I would be happy to make that clear to anyone—anyone—who would question your authority or capabilities.
“I do have one question, though.
“You’ve recruited my son, Andy and his boyfriend Daffyd. Are they like you?”
“Yes, Captain.” I explained a little about the Metas. “Andy and Daffyd are both Meta-human; they’re also telepathic. Like all my boys, they know better than to read someone’s mind without permission.”
Captain Moultrie smiled at that. “And since they’ve never asked me, I can be sure my thoughts are still my own?”
“Exactly that, Captain.”
As always, please let David know what you think of his story: david.mcleod@castleroland.net