Fleet Action (10 page)

"We're not all idiots," she replied, "and what you heard from Torg isn't what most people think. Sure, we want peace, but most of us, myself included, are still suspicious of this whole thing. And I'll tell you this, you might have your idiots like Torg ranting and raving on some campus and boring the hell out of his students but he's a joke to anyone with real sense. Nine out of ten people are damn proud of you. My older brother put in two tours with the Marines till he got invalided out and I'm proud of him. Ordinary folks aren't big on talking about it, but they feel it inside," and as she spoke tears came to her eyes.

"Well, the way the papers and holo stations report it, it doesn't seem that way," Jason said

"You know and I know the full story never really gets told, and didn't your mother ever tell you don't believe everything you read?"

He laughed softly.

"As a matter of fact, she did."

Elaine smiled.

"Look, I've got to go," she said and then fumbled in the bag over her shoulder. She pulled out a card, scribbled a number on the back of it and handed it to him.

"That's my phone number while I'm out on assignment, and the card's my business office. I'll be up here for a couple of more days, maybe we can get together for a drink."

"I'd make a great story, is that it? Ex-hero, what is he doing now?"

"Don't be so defensive," she said quietly. "It's not that at all."

"A pick up then, is that it?"

"You wish," she laughed. "No, just being a friend. That jerk really embarrassed me. Most all of us are damned grateful for what all of you did in the war. A lot of us lost people we know. If we're buying the peace thing its because we just want the damn thing to stop. The offer's just being a friend, nothing more."

She looked at him and smiled.

"Honestly."

"You know we want it to end too," Jason replied, "but we want it to stop after we know it's really over, and that we or our kids after us don't have to go back out and fight it all over again. '

She nodded in reply.

"Just a friendly gesture on my part, no strings attached. OK?" She extended her hand.

"OK," and he smiled softly.

She shook his hand and turned to leave and then hesitated, looking up at Kirha.

"So you really think its a trap?"

Kirha nodded.

She sighed and left the bar.

Shaking his head Jason watched as she headed out into the main corridor and disappeared around the corner. He had to admit she certainly was attractive, he always did have a thing for very slender brunettes. But then the flash memory of Svetlana hit him and all the old pain came back again. He folded her card up and pushed it under the coaster for his beer. The whole thing with Svetlana was still too close for him to want to even make a try at getting involved again.

"Think what that professor guy said is for real?" the bartender asked

"If so you'd better learn how to serve Vak'qu, because many of my former comrades will be drinking in this place once the next war is over," Kirha growled.

"What the hell is that?"

"It makes what you call single malt scotch look like bak."

"Bak?"

Kirha and Ian laughed

"It has something to do with old diapers, Ian cut in. "Let's just say Vak'qu will burn a hole right through durasteel."

"Hey, look what just dragged in," Doomsday announced and to the shock of everyone he leaped from his seat and went up to greet a short, almost baby-faced pilot coming through the door.

"Lone Wolf Tolwyn," Jason shouted and went up to join Doomsday in a round of backslapping.

At the name Tolwyn the other pilots and ex-service crowd in the bar got up and gathered around him.

"How's the old man taking it?" and the question was shouted a dozen or more times as Kevin made his way up to the bar and allowed Doomsday to buy his "old life saving buddy," a drink.

"It's been tough on him," Kevin announced quietly. "He's retired to the family estate out on the Shetland Islands. At least out there the press can't get at him."

Kevin chatted with the crowd for several minutes and then caught Jason's eye and motioned for him to break away from the group.

As they moved away Kevin nodded for Doomsday and Ian to join them in a corner of the bar. Settling down around a table which was covered from one end to the other with carved initials and squadron insignia Kevin looked around at his old comrades and smiled.

"My uncle sent me up here on a little, how shall I say, recruiting expedition."

"For what?" Jason asked.

"I can't tell you, because I don't even really know myself, but he's been calling in a lot of his old comrades and personnel to stop by his estate for a visit. He sent me out to round up some of you hanging around out here at the old base. Would you three be willing to drop down to Earth for a day or two?"

"Anything the old man wants," Ian said.

Kevin smiled.

"There's a shuttle leaving in three hours and I took the liberty of booking some seats on it for you and a couple other people I'm looking for. Transfer over to the London shuttle once you get to Earth orbit. Touch down and head to gate 443, there'll be a ground hop waiting for you there. I don't think I need to tell you that this little trip is very private, so lets keep a secure lid on it."

Ian suddenly frowned and looked back to the bar where Kirha was looking over expectantly at him.

"Got a problem," Ian said quietly and motioned to where his Kilrathi friend was sitting.

"What about him?"

Kevin looked over at Kirha and smiled sadly.

"My uncle said that poor Cat might try and look you up. I'm sorry, Ian, security is just too tight on this."

Ian nodded sadly.

"Look, let's do it this way," Jason interjected. "Your family still has that farm back in Australia. Send him there until we finish up whatever it is the Admiral wants."

Ian smiled and then reached into his wallet and pulled it out.

Doomsday, Kevin, and Jason, seeing the dilapidated condition of Ian's wallet and overall financial condition pulled out what money they had.

"That ought to be enough to buy him a ticket. Thanks, lads."

"Look, he can take one of my seats down to London, and then you can fly him to Australia from there. I'll get in contact with my uncle and make sure someone meets us at the shuttle port to take him out."

Ian nodded his thanks.

Kevin smiled and shook hands around the table.

"I'll see you at Windward."

As the London shuttle turned on final Jason found that he had to nearly fight with Kirha for a look out the window. Though he had spent a year Earthside while Tarawa was going through refit, he had never had a chance to get to London. He was seeing precious little of it now as Kirha kept leaning over him to look out the window.

"Ah boys, it'll be good to hear real kings English spoken as it should be," Ian said.

"Hell, you're from Australia," Doomsday replied.

"Once part of the same glorious Empire. Look, there's Westminster, beyond that the Tower of London."

"I read they used to cut heads off at the Tower," Kirha said with a note of admiration in his voice.

"We kind of gave up the sport," Ian replied.

"Too bad, I'd have liked to have seen the ceremony. You know it still amazes me how you humans could beat the Empire to a standstill."

"How's that?" Jason asked, finally relinquishing the window to Kirha and settling back in his chair.

"I always thought that you were rather soft, not a warrior's breed, no claws, no fangs, no thrill at the sight and smell of blood."

"We still get by when we have to," Doomsday said.

"Yes, I know, most curious."

The shuttle banked over on to final approach and Jason closed his eyes, the turning and decelerating of the shuttle giving him a nostalgic longing to be in a cockpit again. The shuttle touched down smoothly and taxied to its gate.

When the hatch was popped the warm damp air of London filtered into the cab and Kirha wrinkled his nose.

"How do you breathe this? It's like inhaling water."

"You should try it when a spring fog rolls in," Ian replied. The four travelers pulled their duffle bags down from the overhead compartments and went through the access tunnel into the main terminal. Kirha was, of course, immediately noticed. The basic reaction, which was typical of most people from a metropolitan area, was to act as if he wasn't there, except for lingering sidelong stares. Several people displayed open hostility, and Jason was embarrassed when an elderly man came up and spit in front of Kirha, cursing all Kilrathi for killing his family.

Kirha, displaying a remarkable degree of tact, bowed to the man, offered an apology and then continued on. As they walked down the main corridor of the shuttleport they passed a booth displaying a banner announcing that it was seeking donations for the Human-Kilrathi Friendship Society. At the sight of Kirha several members came out from behind the counter and approached him.

"Ah, friend, so good to see you," one of them gushed.

Kirha looked at them suspiciously.

"How can we be friends? We have not been introduced, our blood lines unknown to each other."

The man hesitated for a moment and then smiled.

"Yes, your ritual of meeting, how clumsy of me." He bowed low. "I am Harrison of the hrai Harrison."

Kirha simply looked at him, shook his head, and continued on. Jason looked over at the booth as he passed and saw the other members staring at him.

"You'd think they'd take those service pins off and get back to a real life," an attractive young girl whispered, making sure her voice was loud enough so that Jason could hear. He was tempted to say something but realized it was futile and continued on.

A tall, slender woman with long blonde hair approached the group.

"Captain Hunter."

"Why, yes, that's me," Ian said with a grin. "Do we know each other?"

"No," she said with a mischievous grin lighting her features. "I'm here to meet your friend and escort him to your home in Australia. Everything's been arranged, we have him registered and security cleared."

"How about if we switch things around," Ian replied smoothly. "Kirha can go take care of my business and you can escort me home."

"Not likely, sir," she said with a laugh. "Better luck next time."

Ian shook his head and sighed, looking over at Kirha who was evidently distressed that his friend was leaving him.

"I know I cannot ask you where you are going and why," Kirha said softly, "but I suspect it is dangerous. May Sivar watch over you and guide you through the flowing of blood till we meet again.

Kirha went to his knees and Ian looked around embarrassed as he pulled him back up to his feet and then shyly hugged him

"Take care, buddy. I'll see you soon. While you're there, try to learn some horseback riding, you'd like it."

"As you command, my lord," Kirha said huskily.

The blonde took Kirha by the arm, looking a bit nervous, and she led him down a side corridor. Ian watched them leave looking somewhat wistful.

"Come on," Doomsday said, "you're not getting sentimental over a Cat, are you?"

"Well actually it's the blonde," Ian replied, but Jason could tell that Ian was actually fond of Kirha and hated to see him go.

"Damn, the sight of a Cat riding a horse," Doomsday said. "I'd pay good money to see it."

Walking to the far end of the terminal, where private craft were docked, they turned down a side corridor and reached their gate. A light Zephyr trans-atmospheric transport was parked outside.

"Hey, it's Round Top!" Doomsday cried, and he raced up to the pilot and grabbed hold of his hand.

"Did you run emotional therapy for that guy?" Ian asked, watching a second display of joyful greeting on Doomsdays part in as many days.

"I guess he got kind of attached to our pups."

"Like hell I'm a pup, sir," Round Top announced, coming up to shake Jason's hand

"Excuse me, gentlemen."

Jason turned and saw a slender gray-haired man, wearing a simple pair of flight coveralls, approaching them. He looked vaguely familiar and then he realized that it was Tolwyn's old steward from the Concordia.

"Johnston, isn't it?" Jason asked, and the man nodded.

"I think you're the last for this load," Johnston announced. "Why don't we get aboard?"

Jason picked his bag back up.

"And might I add, gentlemen, that it'd be best, for now, to drop your old noms de guerre."

The group followed Johnston out the door and scrambled aboard the Zephyr. Johnston secured the rear hatch and went up to the forward controls. Putting on a headset he called in to the tower for clearance, powered up the engines, and turned the ship to head for the runway. The Zephyr gained the launch track, did a short fifty-yard roll and then nosed up, soaring up on a sixty-degree climb.

Ian looked around the cabin and checked over the half dozen other passengers crammed into the small plane and realized that several of them looked familiar.

"Vanderman from Tiger's Claw, isn't it?" Ian asked, and the old pilot sitting across from him on the other side of the aisle nodded and shook his hand.

"Hell, I thought you bought it when the Claw got it, Vanderman asked.

"I got transferred off on a two week furlough the day before she got hit," Ian replied, a flicker of sadness crossing his features at the mention of his old ship.

"Luck of the draw I guess," Ian mused, "if it hadn't been for the furlough I'd have died with the rest of my friends.

"But what about you," he asked, forcing a smile, "I saw you go down over Draga just before we pulled out."