Starlight Gleaming Ch. 05

I originally set this story to be six chapters, but it's not working out that way. I know how it ends, but the journey getting there is taking different routes than envisioned. I'll write until the story is told and not make any further arbitrary predictions as to length.

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I should have been sleeping. It was a three hour flight to High Guard War base.

Trouble was I couldn't relax. Part of it was anticipation, of course. I hadn't seen Janetta in four, going on five days and it seemed a lifetime. Even more, it was almost two weeks since I'd been inside her wet, writhing heat. However, it wasn't just excitement about holding my dark sultry warrior in my arms again that kept me awake.

I kept re-playing Senior Sergeant Itznacoco's revelation in my head. It was by his actions that we were all still alive. I hoped his stated reason was a true one and that the incident was buried with that bastard Zoubat and his two toadies. He could have said nothing at all and I would have been happily ignorant of just how close we'd been to being caught. The warning he gave, that all officers were chipped and monitored while on base was valuable, and no doubt something a mere sublieutenant like myself should not be privy to. And the knowledge that enlisted were not chipped was a puzzler. Was it truth? The Empire was strongly bound by caste, and enlisted were drawn from the lower classes. Was it arrogance on Command's part to dismiss them so? Or was it simply that whoever designed such a tracking system would include some means of keeping tabs on enlisted as well? Rank made no difference on ability to kill or commit crimes or acts of treason. Itznacoco himself had opened my eyes to look for layers within layers. Perhaps he'd just masked the enlisted on the data display he'd shown me?

I had a feeling that I now had a blood debt and that one day the Senior Sergeant would come collecting.

The plane turned and banked. It was past our second hour of flight and an hour before midnight. Below us were the Eastern Islands of the Inland Sea. Like the Seven Nations on the east coast of the Northern Continent, the Eastern Islands were a buffer state between the Empire of Chomorro and Atlantis. Flying direct, we could easily have arrived at High Guard in under two hours. It was only eleven hundred rads by direct flight. But by treaty, military craft flew in narrow corridors that added over an hour of flight time in a show of respect for foreign air space. High Guard War base was technically within the Seven Nations, but the War base itself was Imperial territory. Had been for over two hundred years. As large as a small city, it was defended by six interceptor groups, two ground-attack air groups, search and rescue units, and an adjacent naval base as well as a submarine pen. There was even a division of armored Ground Service for base defense. High Guard was vital in monitoring Atlantean activities and for deflecting raids.

I glanced out the window beside me. The moon hung huge and luminous over the Ocean of Atlan, surrounded by starlight gleaming brilliantly in attendance. Outside the thick glass I spotted the Navigator's Triangle of Altair, Vega, and Deneb. The summer stars were in their splendor, sharper and clearer so far from city lights. My parents had their home in the mountains southeast of Tohingo on the Southern Continent, and the nights were pristine there, too. Ahead, I spied the constellation of the Big Bear and traced the arc to the red sun of Arcturus.

"For those of you still awake, we are on final approach to High Guard, ETA thirty-three minutes. If you care to assist, Lieutenant Kandikan, my co-pilot, Lieutenant Canbatca, will do his best to avoid eating at the vending machines at Tikun while he makes yet another detour to the latrine."

The pilot's crisp voice came over the hard earmuffs we all wore. Without them, the numbing noise of the six rotary engines carrying us through the night sky made it impossible to talk. JEBos Condor transports had little insulation, being designed for work, not comfort. Because of that, all of us wore jackets to keep warm. Even in the summer, flying anything above about five rads gets cool or even downright cold. Less atmospheric pressure to keep the heat in. To ease communication, the ear protection also came standard with short range radios and microphones.

I heard the flight engineer laugh at the pilot's tease. Inside the huge belly of the Condor there were three enlisted and myself and over ten thousand stone's weight of food, tools and sundry supplies, as well as eight new HueCac Light Transports and two Tortoises -- the Ground Service's nickname for the heavier, armored electric transports. I looked toward the cockpit and spotted the pilot waving at me. I unbuckled and made my way forward. I passed the co-pilot on the way to the latrine. He did indeed have a look of urgency about him.

Stepping into the cockpit, I first shook hands with the flight engineer. I'd been inside a couple of Condors before. I'd flown and was rated in the much smaller, two-engine JEBos Albatross as well as the cutting-edge Sunskipper, a high-orbital shuttle for long distance runs.

The pilot, a Senior Lieutenant, turned and held out one hand. "Zim Blaychan." As with the navy, the commander of any aircraft with a crew was called captain. To captain a ship and to have the rank of Captain were not the same thing. A lot of flight crews also referred to the bigger transports as ships, a holdover from when anything that flew was an airship.

I shook his hand, pleased to have something else to do. "Ranji Kandikan." I settled into the co-pilot seat, scanning the instrumentation around me. I spoke what they were, to check them off, and he nodded each time. I noticed we were about eight point two rads above the ocean.

"The Flight Controller at Tikun mentioned you were a pilot. I'm satisfied. We'll be at Point Reception in about fifteen minutes and at High Guard about two minutes later," Blaychan said. "Enough time for you to ride the stick a little before we land. Have you flown a Condor before?"

"PE-15 Albatross is the biggest I've flown. I appreciate this opportunity." I adjusted the seat a bit and buckled in.

Blaychan shrugged. "This is a cake run. This time of night, we don't have to worry about the Atlanteans or the East Islanders. We passed the big island of Pangosta and the wild city of Dyn Choga about half hour back. We'll reach Mehayan Peninsula and the Seven Nations shortly. Grab the stick and I'll let you drive a while."

Flying the Condor was a little rocky at first. The controls were firm but the slightest adjustment easily moved the plane. I put my feet to the rudder controls and experimented with some slow yaw to the left and right. Pulling a bit on the wheel, the ailerons moved and we rose a bit, and then I pushed down and our pitch descended. I asked about payload capacity, rate of fuel consumption loaded and empty and other useful information as I felt for how the big transport responded to me. Big and ponderous was my assessment, but manageable.

Naturally, that was when the proximity alarm began to blare. Blaychan grabbed the master wheel and I let mine loose.

The engineer was reading the radar scope behind me. "One unidentified, flying Mach four, repeat Mach four. Crossed behind us. Now he's turning and coming up behind us at eighty-five degrees."

Almost directly behind us then. I glanced back at the engineer as he rubbed his mustache nervously.

"What do we have?" I asked.

"No armaments, if that's what you mean. The Condor's big and slow. Four chaff bursts and four anti-missile rockets. She'll take multiple lightning strikes and keep going, but against an interceptor? Forget it. Mach Four? It's an ET."

The engineer leaned over and scanned out the window. "He's pacing us alright. Fucking aliens. Elongated bubble. Confirmed as a Grey."

The Grey leader types were spindly with only four fingers and enormous black, almond-shaped eyes. Bald, too. Ran around with dwarves that acted as their drones. Reports were that they were somehow linked in some sort of hive mind. And they were allies of the Atlanteans. I didn't like them. They reminded me of insects, and I always got the impression they looked at humans the same way that humans viewed animals. The draconians, uneasy allies of the Aesir-Vedans, simply wanted to subjugate us. There were other interstellar races on earth but they were in much smaller numbers than either the Greys or the draconians.

Blaychan pulled on the wheel for altitude. "Hang on, boys," he muttered.

"Need a hand?" I asked.

"No. Keep your hands clear in case they--"

There was a bright flash of light outside that flooded the cabin, brighter than a clear day at noon, and at the same instant, static electricity danced over the instrument panel. Blaychan shook as the energy leaped from the console, up the wheel, arced up and jolted him. At the same moment, all six engines sputtered and died.

"What was that?" I demanded.

"Electro-Magnetic Pulse," the engineer answered. I heard a big breaker being flipped, and then he was pulling the pilot back into his seat. There was a scorch mark on the captain's right temple, and a trickle of blood coming from his nose.

"Grab the wheel and keep us steady as you can," the engineer continued. The Condor began pointing its nose down. "We have a sixty-second wait before the system resets and we can restart the engines. The Condor may be old, but the tubes in the avionics are immune. It's the modern circuits up front here that need time to reboot after being hit. Research is working on shielding, but in the meantime, it's the best we've got. "

I grabbed the wheel and pulled. There was still some assist from the hydraulics, but without the electrics, it was a lot tougher to move the controls.

The alien ship zipped ahead, crossed back and forth across our nose three times, then shot up into the sky in a full vertical ascent.

They were now officially Grey Bastards in my book.

"Will he be all right?" I put my feet to the floor, straining to pull the wheel and keep the nose up. Without power, we were descending fast. Empty, the Condor had a glide ratio of about eight point five, but loaded down, I estimated we were doing about five to one. Probably less. And we lost a bit of altitude between the time Blaychan went unconscious and I grabbed the wheel. The altimeter now read five point four rads between us and the glittery ocean below, and falling steadily. The Inland Sea south of Mehayan Peninsula was known for both tiger and bull sharks.

The flight engineer broke smelling salts under the pilot's nose. Nothing for several seconds, then Blaychan jerked awake, arms flailing. I glanced at him as he wiped the blood from his nose. Then he swore, rubbing the burn on his temple gingerly.

"Time?" Blaychan whispered hoarsely.

The flight engineer glanced at his watch. "Ten seconds."

Blaychan turned my direction. "Can't quite see yet, Kandikan. Altyun, did you hit the master control? Good man. Ready the reset. Kandikan, when Altyun resets the power, count to five, then begin engine restart in this order: innermost engines first, then center pair, and then finally the outer pair."

Altyun, the engineer moved behind me. "Four, three, two, one. Engaging."

I heard the master switch click into place. Lights flickered and the console came alive again.

"One thousand," I counted aloud. "Two thousand, three thousand, four thousand, five thousand. Engine restart, inner pair." I flipped both switches. Both engines coughed and nothing. Without both hands pulling on the wheel, we descended faster. Three rads and falling. Even blinded, Blaychan had his hands on his own wheel and was struggling to help me keep the nose up. And still we were coming down like a brick! The surface of the ocean loomed closer.

I shut the switches off, then flipped them again. The second time, the left engine caught, and then the right one. The distance between us and a watery grave narrowed.

"Engaging second pair," I intoned. Two engines weren't enough to keep our weight airborne, but now the electrics were working. I flicked the second pair of switches and they too coughed to life. Inside, my pounding heart eased a bit. With four engines working, we could now maintain and even slowly regain height. I glanced at the altimeter. Just four-tenths of a rad!

"Bringing outer pair online." I flipped the last two switches and they too roared back to life.

The co-pilot entered the cockpit. I glanced at him. "You want me to move?"

"How bad you hit, Cap?" Lieutenant Canbatca asked, ignoring me.

"My eyes are fried. Seeing double when I can make anything out. What's wrong?"

"My ass is burned, Cap. I think half of it is still cooking in the latrine. Don't think I can sit and drive. I don't care what they say, Cap, I want a wooden seat. Is that too much to ask?"

"Holy hells. Welcome to Condor Flight School, Kandikan. You've done PE-15s. Time for you to graduate to the Big Boy School. Canbatca, come over by me. I can do the main bit by feel, but I need you to reach for the right switches. Otherwise we'll overshoot the runway and end up in the drink. Altyun, do a quick scan of the cargo, make sure none of the locks disengaged when we lost power. We don't want a lot of weight shifting when we're trying to land. Then get back up here for a radar fix."

"Aye, Cap." The engineer ducked through the hatch and was gone.

"How many hours you have on the Albatross, Kandikan?" Blaychan turned to look at me, but his eyes were focused just to the right of where I actually was.

"Over three hundred," I replied. The Condor passed the second rad mark and was still climbing.

He nodded. "This will be a new one, but you have enough flight time to ease my mind quite a bit. The Condor is big and she's fully loaded, so when she comes down, she'll want to do so hard. Keep her nose up until the last second. Once we hit the ground, start tapping the brakes. I'll help. At the same time, throttle down all the way. Canbatca will turn the dial to reverse the engines. Once the switch is locked, bring the throttles back up half way. We'll use the reverse drag of the engines to slow us down. Got it?"

I repeated what he told me.

He breathed a sigh of relief, nodding. "Good. Good." At three rads above the ocean, we leveled off.

Altyun came back into the cabin, moving to the radar scope. "The front half is secure, Cap. A quick visual of the rest. Coming up on Beacon 2612, two-point-five rads south-by-south-east of Point Reception. Confirming contact with secondary Beacons 2687 and 3010."

Over the radio came the Flight Controller from High Guard War base. "Aircraft on southern approach, you are not broadcasting identification codes. You have entered Restricted Air Space under the protection of the Empire of Chimorro. You have fifteen seconds to respond. Identify yourself or be considered hostile."

The engineer reached over to the panel on my right and pushed a button twice. A light flickered next to it, first red, then green. "Got it, Cap."

Blaychan spoke into his mike. "Sorry about that High Guard. This is Zeta Victor Seven Niner Three. Our flight plans should be on record and you should also be getting our ID now. We had a party a bit ago but you seem to have missed it."

Altyun said quietly. "Four interceptors in the air, on northern approach vector."

"A party?" asked High Guard. "How many interlopers?"

"Just one. He did his trick and left."

"Confirmed, Zeta Victor Seven Niner Three. ID codes also confirmed. Any injured? Emergency Teams being notified. Cleared for Runway one-one-two."

"Moderate injuries only. Runway one-one-two, roger," replied Blaychan. Turning to me, he warned, "If we overshoot, Kandikan, we'll go straight into the water. And I hate to swim."

High Guard did more verbal checking, and in sixty seconds, four Itcha AT-7 Lightnings screamed by doing a confirmation pass. Once High Guard was satisfied of our credentials, the tactical fighters assumed escort position above us.

To help get me more used to how the Condor flew, I did one fly-over of the landing strip before coming back around and lining up on the runway lights. Canbatca read off the altimeter as we dropped lower. Then we were down. We bounced a little, but with their assistance, we landed without difficulty. Canbatca reversed the engines and then I throttled them up midway to slow us down further. Once the plane stopped, we all breathed a sigh of relief. I throttled back down again. The first officer re-engaged the forward gear while Engineer Altyun clapped me on the shoulder. Easing slowly up on the engines, I turned the plane around and taxied to the terminal.

As we neared the building, several emergency vehicles paralleled us, lights flashing in the darkness.

Blaychan told me not to discuss the ET.

"Why?" I was incredulous. "That craft attacked us! We very nearly ended up in the water! And how long has this been going on?"

"You're in it, so you deserve an explanation. Over a year now. Orders from Command, Kandikan. They come from high up, too. Security will become very interested if you push it. We get hit about every tenth trip or so. Most of the time we recover with just a headache to show for it. Even as they are unloading, ground techs will scan us for any residual damage. Lost three ships before they figured out the EMP sometimes leaves hot spots that smolder and then flare back up. Maintenance will be all over the ship even as the ground crew unloads."

I shrugged. "All right, Cap. You got it."

Canbatca flipped on the wing lights, tripling our viewing radius. The Ground Master, in bright, reflective gear and waving electric torches, directed me toward the hangar, giving minor corrections until he was satisfied. Then he gave the signal to kill the engines. I did so.

Tossing my earphones onto the console, I unbuckled and stood up. The cabin lights came on, and then I noticed Blaychan was looking directly at me. "Hey! You can see!"

"Got it back about three seconds after we touched down." He grinned and held out his hand. I happily shook it, genuinely pleased about his vision returning. "Nice landing, Kandikan. You can fly with me anytime. You get tired of riding a desk, let me know and I'll put in a good word for you."

"Thanks, Cap." Canbatca and Altyun also shook my hands.

Blaychan and Altyun went back to check the cargo and the three passengers before opening the rear bay doors for unloading. From the side hangar, portable stairs pulled up to the doorway by the cockpit. I went back to my seat and grabbed both of my duffles. Canbatca stiffly followed me out.

When the door opened, the ground crewman stepped aside so I could deboard. Already on the ground was a small bus, a Quartermaster sergeant and a lieutenant from Security.

Moving slowly, Canbatca came down the steps as a medical transport arrived. They helped him onto a stretcher and carried him off.

"Anything to report?" the Security officer asked me.

I shook my head, handing him my transfer orders. "Party's over."

The sergeant looked at his roster. "You are to report to Logistics in the morning."

Logistics? Not Operations? Logistics had been my second choice. Oh, well. You go where the military sends you.

"Your quarters are in BOC," he continued. "Dorm Six, Room Fourteen, Sublieutenant Kandikan. Need directions?"

Just then, a HueCac quietly pulled up beside us. Second Sergeant Zinja drove, and Janetta, in her Class B coveralls, sat in the passenger seat. There was plenty of illumination from the terminal, but it was past midnight and still she wore flight glasses. Even as I rolled my eyes, I couldn't suppress a grin. It was unbelievably good to see her.