Ice and Peace (6 page)

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded and moved to stand next to her.

She felt alive and in control and she loved it.

Inside a protective bunker just over a mile away from the action, Caitlin peered through the reinforced glass. Because they were using live ammunition, she and the assistant chose to remain inside. Raising her binocs to her eyes, she peered at a storm cloud moving over the horizon. It threatened to ruin their clear day. No matter because the worse the storm, the better the training would be.

As her team continued their maneuvers on the dry plain in front of her, she watched them fumble through their newly learned skills. Today’s lesson was safety during an engagement. For the purposes of the exercise, she’d chosen Petty Officer Nico Jesswan to be the leader. He was smart, capable, and had the potential to handle the job. The only problem was, he was not where he was supposed to be. Therefore, neither was the rest of the team. She shook her head in disgust.

“Nico, get your ass up there,” she mumbled, lowering her binocs.

She knew from personal experience this maneuver called a Ready Team Fire Assist, or RFTA, was a lifesaver. And now it was their turn to learn it, too.

Better they learn it here than out there
.

Crouching down on the raised platform inside the viewing room, she picked up her com. It was time for them to wise up.

“Lawn Mower, this is the Homeowner, over,” she called to the sniper and spotter who took on the role as the hostiles for the day.

They were the base’s top sniper and spotter trainers. It was their job to keep the team’s head down, starting now.

“Lawn Mower,” the sniper’s voice responded in a gravelly tone.

Caitlin paused and licked her lips. “Cut the grass. I repeat, cut the grass.”

“That’s an affirm.”

She folded her arms and hardened her expression. She did not want the assistant to see her remorse, but this was the only way to train them to keep their heads and asses down. Looking through her binocs once again, she studied the six men and women as they peeked over the low brown terrain. With no cover to speak of, and with the mountains at their twelve o’clock, they were sitting ducks.

“Turn up the mikes,” she said to her assistant trainer.

“What the hell was that?” she heard Sykes yell as plasma bolts flew passed where they lay pressed against the earth.

The feelings of helplessness and fear they were experiencing was nothing compared to what would happen in the field.

“All right, that’s enough,” she said softly into the com. “Let ’em up.”

As abruptly as it began, the firing stopped. Still stunned, they lay in the dirt.

“Turn on their mikes,” she said to the chief.

It came to life with a burst of static, jarring their attention.

“Get up. Get off the ground. It’s over.” She paused. “And so are you.”

***

Safely in port, Keegan could finally rest. The metal cot creaked underneath him. He stared up at the ceiling, wanting to sleep but unable to. The responsibilities of the day continued to plague him. He folded his arms and looked at his room. The quarters were cramped and lacked a full bath. He should move but hadn’t had the time to do it. If Caitlin were here, she’d have taken over the responsibility of making a home for both of them. His heart ached for her. But then again, Command wasn’t big on husbands and wives working together. In fact, it was forbidden.

Closing his eyes, Keegan allowed his thoughts to linger on his wife. He missed her intoxicating scent, soft skin, sweet kisses, laughter—even the way they constantly argued over her work. What he would do just to hold her at this moment. A tiny smile crawled across his lips as he recalled a short nightie she had picked up at a small boutique in D.C. Though she was unsure of the fit, he assured her it was perfect. The smooth silk against her soft, warm skin sent chills up his spine. It wasn’t on long before it ended in a crumpled heap on the floor. He wondered if his last goodbye had been sufficient for her. It hadn’t been for him. Without her, his existence lay in question, as did everything he’d gotten himself into.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

COs never sleep. They only rest their eyes
.

“Yes?” he answered, wanting whoever it was to go away.

There was an officer on watch to take care of these things. He wondered why whoever it was was bothering him.

“Sir, it’s Commander Berger. May I enter?”

“Enter.” He wearily swung his legs over the side of the bed.

The bright light from the hall nearly blinded him as the door slid open. Keegan stood in only his boxers and T-shirt and approached the commander.

Berger closed the door behind him.

“Lights,” Keegan barked. The room lit up immediately. “How may I help you, Commander?”

The man about Keegan’s age handed him a beat-up scriv. He entered his code and read the orders. He chuckled at the words across the screen. More surprises. It would have been nice if they had informed him of the appointment ahead of time, but then again, beggars couldn’t be choosers. “Interesting.”

“Sir?”

“Now they tell me.” Keegan handed the device back to him. “At ease, Commander.”

Berger relaxed his stance. “What is it, sir?”

“Apparently you are my new executive officer.”

Berger’s surprised look told Keegan it was news to him, too. Keegan sized him up. The younger man appeared to be the consummate career officer. He wore his khaki brown service uniform in a neat and professional manner. His hair was cut short on the sides, allowing his deep brown skin to show. His dark brown eyes gave no hint of the turmoil Keegan guessed was going on in the man’s head.

With all that information, would he take the job? Keegan waited.

A line creased the younger man’s forehead. Berger’s mouth was set like stone then he said confidently, “It will be an honor, sir.”

“Believe me, I know what you’re feeling.”

“I don’t think so, sir.”

“Yes, I do. At any rate,” he said with an outstretched hand. “Commander Berger, do you accept this assignment?”

Pausing momentarily, Berger answered soberly, “Yes, sir, I do.”

The two shook hands.

“Thank you for accepting this assignment. I’m certain it will be a pleasure. And maybe when things calm down, we can have a drink. Until then, we have work to do.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Commander, if you don’t mind, we can finish this later,” Keegan said, climbing into bed.

“Yes, sir.” He walked to the hatch.

“Lights off,” Keegan barked.

The hatch clicked shut. Keegan fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, hoping he wouldn’t come across any more surprises.

***

A full moon hung over the training grounds at Cole Naval Air Station. The blizzard passed as quickly as it came, leaving a fresh blanket of snow on the ground. The big Montana sky wore a black blanket overhead, allowing the stars to twinkle like distant beacons. The cryo team stood in the night dressed in their pixilated white Arctic camouflage that mimicked the shading of the native brush. Some smiled, others were irritated, but all found the sight interesting.

As the team closed in and around Caitlin, she stared at the alien body on the ground, swearing to herself. She could hear the boots pulverize the snow and dirt underneath as the wind kicked up around them. Looking up, she saw some of them standing with their hands in their pockets, trying to stave off the cold, while others stood as casually as if they were on a beach in Florida. Their tight circle acted as a windbreak for her and protected the downed trainee from the freezing air.

“Wake up!” Caitlin demanded as the cold wind howled in disagreement.

Wind chill was the biggest culprit in cases of hypothermia. She knew this, all her trainees knew this…but this thing—this so-called higher intelligence didn’t have a clue regarding basic precautions against exposure. She stared deeply at the body of the alien in front of her. Its lidless eyes were round with dark pupils as black as deep space. There was no life in them. She couldn’t tell if the thing was dead or alive.

“Maybe it’s too cold. Somebody ought to get a blanket,” Petty Officer Nico Jesswan quipped.

The others laughed at his remark.

“Quiet!” Caitlin frowned at Jesswan. Her harsh glance kept him from making any more remarks.

This was a screwup from beginning to end. Dammit, I knew this was going to happen. First dropping this thing in on us unexpectedly and then allowing it to train was a major fuck up. I knew there was a reason I never wanted to work with aliens
.

“Mosely, give me your coat.”

“Here you go, Chief,” he said, taking it off and handing it to her.

She placed it over the creature, hoping to warm it. These things with all their technology couldn’t take a little cold air? In fact, she found the outside a little warm.

“This ain’t even the South Pole, and he’s out this fast?” someone asked. “How’s he gonna take the real thing?”

In the debrief, she’d been informed that if Siaeu, the small, gray alien on the ground in front of her, took a nap, she was to give him a little shake to wake up. She’d tried it, and it hadn’t moved.

“How can you tell it’s a he?” Mosely joked.

The natives were getting restless. Something had to be done. All this chatter was just a way of hiding nerves.

“Somebody get the doc out here!” Caitlin yelled, pulling a thermo read from inside her pocket.

The small, black cylindrical object activated immediately upon hitting the cold air. It was a cryo specialty. Most didn’t want to use it, as a matter of pride, but it was standard issue, especially in training.

Removing her gloves, she placed it against Siaeu’s neck. Its smooth skin was a pale bluish gray and had a shiny, almost greasy look to it in spite of the dry air. A small hum emanated from the thermo as the nano probe inserted itself inside Siaeu’s skin and deep into its body.

It’s temperature read seventy-two degrees.

“Is that normal?” a member of her team asked.

“How the hell am I supposed to know?” she barked and slapped the creature on the side of its face again. No response. She wondered if she’d have to give it mouth to mouth. Its tiny mouth was slim and barely open.

Would I even be putting air in the right place?
She hadn’t even been prepped on their physiology. The brass had said it was on a need-to-know basis, not considering eventualities such as these.

“Where in the hell is the doc?” she yelled again. “Don’t you die on me. I don’t have time for the paperwork.”

Jesswan leaned down and stared at the creature. “Never send an alien to do a man’s job.”

He was one of her best cryos, trained for sub-zero weather, and the thing’s supposed partner. So much for the buddy system.

“Stow it,” she retorted, wiping a bit of moisture leaking from her nose.

The creature stirred, emitting a low moan.

“Thank God.” Caitlin let out a relieved sigh.

The arriving medics carried a stretcher and a thermo blanket. They lifted the frail creature onto the stretcher and wrapped it from head to toe in a blanket before they carried it away.

“So much for the crawl, walk, and run. I guess we should call it the fall down, freeze, and die,” Jesswan quipped with a grin.

Ignoring the crack, Caitlin rose to her feet and regained her composure. She handed Mosely his coat and gave him a look, signaling him to get lost.

“What do we now, Chief?” Jesswan asked standing beside her.

“Let the heavenlies in the Adminisphere handle it. It’s out of our hands now. Have ’em fall in. We don’t stop training just because someone takes a nap.”

They believe in training via red tape. Let them fix this
.

“All right, get back into formation,” Jesswan ordered, stepping over the impression left in the ground by the alien. “We do it again, this time without the drama.”

The boots of the soldiers crunched on the frozen ground as they began their cold weather acclimation drills. She glanced at a yeoman approaching her wearing a thin jacket and an uncomfortable expression likely due to the cold.

“Ma’am,” she said, saluting her.

Caitlin returned the salute.

Reaching into her jacket pocket the woman, barely able to hold her chattering teeth still, said, “Message for you.”

She handed Caitlin the folded piece of paper.

“Thank you.” Caitlin glanced at it and annoyance struck once again. What could they possibly want to see her about this time?

“What is it?” Jesswan asked, approaching her.

Placing it in her pocket, Caitlin looked off into the distance dispassionately.

“I’ve got to report to the CO,” she replied.

He nodded.

“Keep ’em cold ’til I get back.”

Chapter Seven

The motion sensor automatically activated the lights inside the cryo wing as Keegan strolled through the vacant hall. Inspecting empty quarters was the last thing he wanted to do. With the ship’s repairs, new pilots, and cargo, there were more important things to tend to. But per orders, he had to make sure their new shooters had a proper place to sleep.

“All right, give me the specs,” he said to the maintenance officer following him.

He handed Keegan the scriv before promptly returning to his place behind him. The cryo quarters had been renovated and redone since he’d last seen them. Instead of one room containing the metallic sleep units they’d used before, the new quarters consisted of individual rooms. Sensors within each monitored their vitals and controlled the air temperature at all times.

“Make a note to turn on the op systems. Everything should be ready to go as soon as they come aboard.”

A holdover from the twentieth and early twenty-first century, cryogenics at one point was considered the only hope for loved ones who had a flare for the ridiculous or an incurable disease. For Caitlin it was the latter. Her late husband had her frozen so she could be awakened once a cure was found. But he either gave up on his belief or fell in love because he moved on and she was left to sleep for almost a century.