2
Carrie arrived at the Command Center almost half an hour early. Too eager, she thought and decided to walk around the block to kill time and steady her nerves. She looked at the other soldiers and civilians walking past her, all in their own little worlds, completely oblivious to the significance of this day for her, oblivious to the major turn she was sure her life was about to take. She heard the sounds of spacecraft taking off from the UNF Space Dock close by, and looked up at the sky to see a large mass of gray metal shooting skyward trailing a tail of fire and vapor in its wake. A smile spread across her face.
She walked calmly, noticing her reflection in the mirrored glass of a building she passed. She wanted to look perfect, smell perfect, be perfect. Whenever she interviewed, she couldn’t help but feel that she was not only representing herself, but also her father, and therefore had a reputation to uphold. She never mentioned her father, of course, only acknowledging him if she was asked directly. She didn’t want to invite the comparisons, or worse still, have people assuming she’d gotten as far as she had because of him. After all, he was an “Original”; one of the revered few who’d been on the frontier when both the Moon and Mars had been colonized, and that always carried a sense of legend about it.
Excitement prickled through her at the thought of being on the next frontier for the UNF. Space Duty was, after all, the pinnacle; the most sought-after division to enroll in as a soldier in today’s world. But it was a step-by-step process to get there, and one that required patience. Everyone started out in their own country’s national army, air force or navy. For the most part, however, they were confined to country-specific work, at least during peacetime, that is.
Once a soldier had cut their teeth working in a local army, the next step was the United National Forces, which had two arms: Earth Duty and Space Duty. Earth Duty was the first step and enabled a soldier to travel and work in different parts of the world, with multicultural teams, and develop their skills with specialized training. Wherever there was a natural disaster, Earth Duty troops would assist. Wherever there were pockets of terrorist activity, they would help resolve it. If a soldier impressed their senior officers on Earth Duty, an invitation would be extended for them to apply for Space Duty. Invitations were strictly limited; only those considered the cream of the crop or those who showed future promise were taken, and so far very few females had been given the opportunity to go.
For most soldiers it was a personal choice. Some had no desire whatsoever to be working out in space. Others yearned for the opportunity. Carrie was one of the latter. When she’d been called in specifically for the Santos mission in Madrid, whilst on Earth Duty, she knew it was her chance to prove her worth and get noticed. She did prove herself, she did get noticed, and sure enough she soon had her ticket to apply.
Now she was ready for the next step in her career. She wanted to head out into space and help prepare unexplored sites for colonization. It would be challenging, she knew that. Spending months on end in desolate climates, facing the unknown, would not be an easy undertaking, but she thrived on the idea of being a pioneer and leading the way. Just like her father had done before her.
Besides, the human race had no choice but to expand its borders. Earth’s capacity to sustain mankind had been reached long ago, despite the fact that science and technology had overcome most problems of living in previously uninhabitable regions on the planet. But as with all things, the technology that had helped man, had also become a hindrance. The prosperous Earth had become too prosperous. Populations grew, industries boomed, and environmentalists raced to revitalise the parts of the Earth that humanity had ravaged on its way through.
The great minds of the day were forced to find a solution. The Space Duty arm of the UNF was born, and exploration began into colonizing outer space. For the last thirty-five years, the UNF Space Duty Division, with international government and conglomerate assistance, had been setting up outposts and space stations off Earth; pockets of human existence, like small floating cities. Each had a scientific code name, such as “Z106”, but had also been given a common name based on something historical or mythical, such as “Station Pegasus” or “Station Magellan”. It had taken time to convince Earth dwellers to embrace the future and take to the stations, but eventually their popularity had grown.
As space living became a reality, the UNF decided to expand their realm and conquered the Earth’s moon. Several colonies were established under the purification and gravitational domes, using convict labor. Over time this, too, proved so successful that they turned their gaze to Mars. On January 12th, 2059, the first spaceship arrived. A settlement was established, using convict labor, in the northern hemisphere of Mars. Once complete, the entire populations of Earth’s maximum security prisons were transferred into a state-of-the-art penitentiary there that became known as “Hell Town”. The UNF then set about using the convict labor to help run expeditions to the south, and began to develop the Mars Docking Station and the two civilian settlement colonies—Elon and Brahe —that now existed. So successful was the conquering of Mars, it was widely rumored that the UNF had begun planning a massive expansion of settlements there.
The adrenaline spiked through Carrie as she thought about the possibilities. She checked her watch, took a deep breath, and made her way back to Command.
*
Carrie waited patiently in the reception hall of Command. The receptionist had checked her in with a Lieutenant McEvoy, then told her to take a seat. She hadn’t been seated long before she heard the Tube open and saw a Space Duty uniformed, dark-skinned woman, with long, braided hair make her way over to the reception desk. Carrie heard McEvoy’s name mentioned and figured she must be here for the same reason. She eyed the woman curiously. She looked fit and strong, maybe mid-to-late 20s. Carrie saw the receptionist motion over toward the seats and the soldier turned and headed her way.
They locked eyes and gave a polite nod. The new arrival sat down a couple of seats away, and the silence and minutes ticked by. Carrie busied herself looking around the grand reception area. It was wall to floor marble, white with gold flecks, shiny and cold. The large UNF shield insignias for Earth Duty and Space Duty were positioned on the wall behind the receptionist, beneath a glorious, protective Pegasus. The winged horse, the perfect choice of mascot for the UNF, representing both land and sky. To the right of the reception there was an elegant rocky waterfall, surrounded by lush greenery. The sound of its running water soothed her. She glanced up at the ceiling, which was shaped like a pyramid, and had glass on one side for the natural light, then she looked over to the wall of elevators and wondered what those inside were doing and where they were going.
The Tube beeped again and a tall, slim, redhead appeared. Both seated women watched her approach the reception desk and heard McEvoy’s name again. Another one! The redhead, also dressed in a Space Duty uniform, made her way over to the chairs and, as she did so, the dark-skinned woman stood and offered her hand to shake.
“Hi, how you doin’?” she said with an American accent. “I’m sorry I overheard, but you’re here to see First Lieutenant McEvoy? I’m Corporal Sabrina Colt.”
The redhead nodded, smiled, and shook her hand. “Sergeant Sarah Packham,” she said with a crisp English accent.
The two women looked over at Carrie, sitting there in her Earth Duty uniform.
“Are you here to see McEvoy, too?” Colt asked
Carrie gave a nod, stood from her chair and offered her hand. “Corporal Carrie Welles.”
Colt shook Carrie’s hand, and then Packham.
“So …” Colt began as they all sat, “do we have any idea what’s going to happen today?”
They shook their heads, but Carrie noticed the other women’s eyes seemed to sparkle with just as much intrigue as she felt.
“So, you’re obviously British.” Colt looked over to Packham.
“Yes,” she replied, “I’m from Oxford. And you? I mean, you’re obviously American …”
Colt smiled. “I was actually born in Barbados, but spent most of my life in Orlando, Florida.” She turned to Carrie. “And you?”
“Australian. From Brisbane originally.”
Colt chuckled. “Well, this really is the United National Forces, isn’t it?”
A smile curled at their mouths.
Carrie thought the two women seemed alright, but until she knew why they were all here, she couldn’t relax.
*
Harris sat in the empty room looking over the three women’s profiles. Isaack was right, they all looked pretty good on paper. Sergeant Packham, 29, had a good clean flight record. She’d trained with both the British RAF and at NASA, scoring top marks during her training maneuvers and impressed her superiors while based in Russia during her time on Earth Duty. Since joining Space Duty she’d had successful stints on some of the space stations, then on Mars, and seemed to be doing well until she applied for a transfer a month ago. Now she was here.
Corporal Colt, 27, also had a good record. She’d trained with Special Forces in the US and then did time in East Africa and China on Earth Duty. She appeared to have a flair with electronics, and in particular with explosive devices. She entered into Space Duty only four months ago and had been based on a UNF cargo runner called Andromeda, taking supplies to all the outposts. She’d requested a transfer to a more “active” posting. So, now she was here.
The last of the women, Corporal Welles, 28, was the daughter of retired Australian UNF Space Duty colonel, Jeffrey Welles. Harris undertook a brief search on the UNF portal to ensure it was indeed the same Jeffrey Welles that he thought it was. And he was correct. Her father was the Col. Welles, one of the Originals; the first group of Space Duty soldiers there’d ever been. He’d been at the forefront of the space station migration, the Moon colonization, and the early days of the Mars colonization. All three waves. It made Harris wonder if this was why she’d been selected to take part in this PR exercise. The daughter of an Original continuing the tradition and flying the flag for the UNF. What a PR story that would make.
Regardless, she’d impressed her superiors with not only her excellent marksmanship, but also her determination and drive to succeed. Although she’d started out later than most, she was coming to Harris after several years on Earth Duty, mainly based in Indonesia, the South Pacific and Antarctica. Just recently she had been specifically called in on the Santos mission and according to her file, it had been her bullets that took down the rebel leader Jose Gardos and five other rebels, after a ten day standoff in Madrid. She had not yet been inducted into Space Duty, which was a concern, but she was about to get a quick initiation.
Harris was torn away from the e-file by a knock at the door. He heard the beep of the security card swipe and the door opened to reveal First Lieutenant McEvoy.
“Captain Harris, I have Sergeant Packham, and Corporals Colt and Welles for you,” he announced.
“Show them through,” Harris ordered, closing down the file and putting it to one side.
He stood and watched the women carefully as they entered. They marched straight ahead, single file, then turned to stand in front of him and saluted. They had passed their first test.
He stared at each woman for a moment as they stood in the lineup. He towered over them, which was not uncommon for him with most people, but compared to his soldiers on the Aurora, they looked minuscule. As well as visibly lacking in strength they didn’t particularly look like the kind of hardened soldiers that would cause fear to the likes of space pirates, either. They were all quite feminine and attractive in the flesh, and could’ve just as easily replaced Veronica out on reception. That’s what concerned him. He could just picture the reaction of some of his men.
Sergeant Packham was of reasonable height, at 5' 10", but she was too slim for a soldier. Corporal Colt was shorter at 5' 7", but she did have the best build of the three. Corporal Welles was even shorter and had a petite build. Again, he pictured the reaction of his men, and it mostly involved laughter.
“At ease,” he ordered, his voice devoid of any emotion. He wasn’t happy about this late change to his team, but he had to accept it. Whether this was a babysitting job or not, he made a promise to himself to treat them no different than the rest of his men. If they wanted in, they would have to do it his way.
The women each took a seat on the opposite side of the table to him. He eyed the three of them again, studying their faces. They each made good eye contact. He liked that.
“My name is Captain Saul Harris,” he began. “Today you will be joining my team on the UNF Aurora, as a test case, for a one-off mission. We leave this evening at 1900 hours. You will need to be at Dock 559 by no later than 1500 hours. You will be briefed and meet the rest of the crew then. Are there any questions?”
He noticed a spark of excitement light up their eyes.
“No, sir,” Colt and Packham shook their heads.
“Sir,” Welles began, her voice sounding a little unsure, “does this mean I’ve been accepted into Space Duty?”
“Well, you can’t fly on my ship if not, so I guess that would be a yes,” he said, in a slightly mocking tone.
The expression on her face showed regret for asking the question. “Yes, sir.”
“Someone will be down shortly to take you to administration where you will complete the final authorities for your transfers,” he told them. “They will then send you onto Stores where you, Corporal Welles, will collect your new uniform and any other items you may require for this mission,” he continued. “After that, you will need to go home, pack your stuff and be down at Dock 559 by no later than 1500 hours. Are we clear, soldiers?”
“Yes, sir!” they chimed in unison.
“Good,” Harris said flatly, then gathered up his things and exited the room. He was a matter-of-fact kind of man and felt there was nothing more to be said at this stage. He wasn’t going to pretend to be thrilled that they were part of his team, but he would be professional nonetheless. He knew his men probably wouldn’t take too kindly to the change in lineup. The team worked well as it was, and it could be a bad thing to mess with a winning formula.
Besides, three attractive women could prove a distraction. It was fairly common thinking that men instinctively felt the need to protect female soldiers more so than their male counterparts in a life and death situation, making the male soldiers that much more vulnerable. This could not and would not take place on the Aurora, he told himself. Test case or not, if they wanted to be part of his team, they were going to work as hard as the men, fight as hard as the men, and if it came to it, die as hard as the men.
*
Carrie smiled subtly to herself as that adrenaline spiked through her again. She stood in her apartment eyeing her new Space Duty uniforms. The first was an “official” service uniform that consisted of a smart-looking light gray blouse with matching skirt, which had the electric blue UNF Space Duty Division insignia over the left breast. Similar to that of Earth Duty, the insignia held an image of the Earth within a shield, but where the Earth Duty Division had the Earth surrounded by a laurel wreath, the Space Duty Division had the Earth surrounded by stars. The second uniform was the “general” combat uniform, consisting of gray cammo pants and a matching variety of gray tops: singlets, T-shirts and long-sleeved gray cammo shirts, all with electric blue stitching and the UNF insignia.
As if determined to thwart her eagerness, the time dragged. She’d packed within minutes, doing so lightly. Restless, she sat on the couch in her apartment and looked over at the photo displayed on the wall beside her LCD screen. It was a picture of her parents, laughing and fooling around, happiness splashed across their faces. It had been taken only days before her mother had passed away. She often stared at that photo and wondered: if only they knew? But there had been no way of knowing. Her father had left for a conference in Poland the day after that photo was taken, and her mother was dead two days after that.
It was sad to think that no matter how advanced mankind had become, humans could still die in automobile accidents. Human error was something that no-one could ever erase. You couldn’t control the fact that a man could turn off his vehicle’s intelligent autocruise control system, take his eyes off the road and take a corner too fast, and drive head on into an innocent woman on her way home from dropping her daughter at school. And so, at fourteen, Carrie had lost her mother, and her father had lost his wife.
Deep down she knew that was the moment her father changed. The hero, the Original soldier, seemed to grow old almost overnight. After her mother’s death, he sent her to live in a boarding school and she saw even less of him, if that were possible. She figured he was running away, trying to escape the pain by keeping himself busy. She understood it to a certain extent, but at the same time, part of her felt abandoned.
Her father grew to become a mystery, held together only by fond memories from her childhood of target practice, talking in secret codes, and inspiring transmissions sent from space. That spark he lit in her childhood, despite his absence, had not diminished. The lure of space was irresistible, and her father’s success the cherry on top. He’d left his mark on this world as a respected space pioneer; now she felt compelled to do the same.
After working on Mars for a while after her mother’s death, she guessed that her father finally realized he couldn’t escape the pain or the loneliness. Tired and dejected and somewhat resentful of the military, he resigned and returned to Earth, just as his little girl was making plans to explore new worlds herself.
It was a surprise to her that, despite his years of service, despite raising her like he did, he’d initially discouraged her from joining the armed forces. When she’d wanted to enlist straight from school, he’d refused, arguing that he wanted her to experience life outside the military first. After much debate with the ex-colonel, she’d reluctantly agreed to work “normal” jobs in administration for the first couple of years, and she could barely manage that. The pull was too strong. It had never been far from her mind, and all it took to convince her in the end was an offhand comment from an old ex-soldier who’d seen her down at the local shooting range one day. He happened to witness her shoot, eyed the target she’d hit, then shook his head and said, “Jeez, you’re a bloody good shot, love. The army could do with someone like you!” The very next day she applied to join the Australian Army.
Her father wasn’t happy, but he’d managed to hold his tongue. She’d wanted to talk to him about it, why he was so against it, but that just wasn’t the way they were. They never discussed the things that lurked beneath the surface. He was a soldier through and through, always on guard.
Her father knew she’d been promoted to Earth Duty a few years back, but she’d never told him about her application for Space Duty because she knew, deep down, the gap between them would widen with the news. After all, despite the distance between them, she was all he had left since her mother had passed away. But she knew the time had come. It had to be done.
And so Carrie sat there, planning the conversation with her father in her mind. She would do it the Army way, soldier to soldier. She’d just tell him like it is. There would be no questions. She had been accepted into Space Duty and she was going. He couldn’t say or do anything about it. He had done it, and now so would she. It was that simple.
Spurred on by some imaginary courage, she picked up the phone and called him. At this time of year, he would be at his holiday villa in Florida. She tried the numbers she had for him, but they went through to a message service. Where is he? I can’t just leave him a message telling him I’m heading into space tonight! She did leave a message, but only to ask him to call her. She looked down at her watch. 13:08. There’s still time. He’ll call back. It’s okay.
She stood and walked around her apartment, one last time. She double-checked the windows and doors were locked, then surveyed how neat and tidy everything was. Everything was in its place. Everything was under control.
Now she just needed her father to return her call.
*
Harris felt somewhat better now that he had eaten, although there remained a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was pinning it on the hangover, although his mind did wander briefly to thoughts of Sibbie and Etta and that strange dream again. He shook his head. Damn that whiskey!
He’d been reading over the e-file that Colonel Isaack had given him. The station itself, Z076—known as Darwin—was located, as the colonel had said, in the outer realm of the UNF Space Zone, which covered all the inhabited area of space to date, radiating out from Earth as far as the Mars orbit. The station was positioned not far off Mars, and given its close proximity to The Belt, it was an area generally avoided, as few recognized civilian flight paths ventured that far. Nicely placed for something so classified, he thought.
Although Darwin had one designated shuttle, the Spector, the crew replied heavily upon a regular rotation of specially assigned, UNF-cleared cargo ships for all their needs. So visitors were a rarity. He read the summary profiles on Darwin’s crew. They’d all been officially inducted into UNF Space Duty and therefore had received the basic training, but their specialties lay within their particular scientific fields.
The man in charge, Professor Ray Sharley, had been on the station for approximately two years. Prior to that he’d been involved in the design and set-up of the high tech, state-of-the-art maximum security prison on Mars—MSP001 (aka “Hell Town”) for the UNF who were effectively in charge of Mars. After establishing the prison, he then went on to become Warden for several years, before taking up the post on Darwin. It seemed he was not only a man with vast scientific credentials, but also a PhD in psychology.
When Sharley started work on the Darwin, he had a small crew of two, and this had grown to eight rather quickly, due to the success of his programs, which were, of course, highly classified. Harris found it interesting that he could not access the crew’s full staff profiles on the UNF HR portal, as they, too, were classified.
As Isaack advised, administration would be contacting his team with their call for duty. They would have been contacted by now and flying in on special UNF Super-Jets from wherever they’d escaped to on their leave. They would have received no more information other than where to be and when. Harris sat thinking about the mission ahead, and how he’d address his men. He stared at his phone sitting on the table, and decided to call Doc.
“Captain!” his first lieutenant answered. “No rest for the wicked, huh?”
Harris heard the sound of an SJ engine in the background, and smiled. “No. We’re clearly far too good at our jobs.”
“Only the best will do, sir!” Doc retorted.
“So, were you sunning yourself in Hawaii?”
“Yeah, thanks for that! I was in a bar on the beach, about to drink some exotic cocktail served in a coconut when I got the call. I’ve just got back to the base.”
“Coconut cocktails, Doc! You going soft on me?”
Doc laughed. “Hey, the cute barmaid recommended it!”
“I see! In that case, I am truly sorry for the call-up.”
He laughed again. “It’s fine, captain. Her boyfriend was the rather large doorman. You probably actually saved me.”
Harris chuckled.
“So, we still on for 1600?” Doc asked.
“The rest of the men will be there at 1600, but I need you to be there a little earlier.”
“Sure thing. What’s up?”
Harris paused momentarily, wanting to choose his words carefully. Doc obviously sensed something was different.
“Saul …?”
Doc was the only one in his team that could get away with calling him by his first name, but he only ever did it in private. In front of the men it was always “captain”. Doc was the longest serving member of the team. They’d worked together for about two years now, and they had a mutual respect for each other and the chain of command. Harris knew he could depend on Doc to help him with this situation. He knew Doc would be the conduit between the new recruits and the rest of the team, and his eyes and ears when he wasn’t around. Doc was second-in-command on the Aurora. He was a good soldier, a great medic, and on top of that, they had become good friends.
“We’ve got three new recruits joining us on this mission,” Harris informed him.
“Three? Jesus, where we going?”
“Not three ordinary recruits, Doc. Three women.”
Doc took a second to respond. “Three women? That’s … new.”
Harris nodded to himself. “Yes, it is. I want you to give them their pre-flight physicals before the others arrive.”
“Yes, sir.” Curiosity was clearly jumping out of Doc’s voice. “Do we know why they’re joining us? Is there a particular reason?”
“Good old-fashioned PR. They tell me it’s a test case.”
“A test case? Okay …”
“Not buying it?”
“Well, captain, there’re hundreds of other ships out there I’d choose before us. We’re not really a PR bunch of guys who do PR kinds of jobs, you know. We’re not the kind of soldiers you see on the recruitment posters.”
“Maybe that’s why. Perhaps they’re trying to give us a makeover?”
Doc laughed. “Are you kidding? I can’t see McKinley, Brown or Bulk as the face of the UNF!”
Harris smirked to himself. “No.”
“So, how do you think it’s going to go down?” Doc’s tone turned serious.
“I have no idea, but I’m relying on your assistance to get this over the line. I want you to help ease the transition.”
“Yes, sir. No problems.”
“It’s just one mission, right? How hard can it be?”
“Sure.” Doc’s minimal response spoke a thousand words.
“I’ll see you at 1500, lieutenant.” With that, Harris hung up the phone. He felt better that Doc knew what was about to happen. He didn’t want to spring it on his men all at once, and he knew Doc would be the one to jump on the other end of that seesaw and help him balance things out.
He checked his watch. 13:57. Better call Tyson, he thought. He grabbed the phone again and hit the speed-dial for his wife’s number.
“Hello?”
“Taya, it’s me,” he greeted her.
“Saul, hi. What’s up?”
He never realized how much he missed her voice until he heard it again. Sometimes it was easier not to talk to her. After all, they were separated and had been for some years, but neither of them had mustered the courage to finally divorce. The fact that they often fell back together didn’t exactly help things either.
“I’ve been called up on an urgent mission,” he told her. “I leave tonight, so I’m going to have to delay my visit. Is Ty there?”
“No, he’s not home from school yet. He had basketball practice. What’s going on?” She sounded concerned, and he hated worrying her.
“It’s nothing, things are fine. I just need to postpone my visit, is all.”
She sighed. “Saul, when are you going to give this all up for a desk job? Ty’s getting older, you know. He’s going to want a man around soon.”
“Yeah. What happened to Larry?” he asked somewhat sarcastically.
She paused a moment. “Larry’s Larry, but he’s not you. Ty wants his father. And don’t pretend like you’re happy for another man to be raising your son, either. I know you, Saul Harris!”
“Well, tell Ty I’ll see him in a week or so. Tell him I’m sorry and that I’ll take him to another game as soon as I’m back, alright?”
“Yeah, okay,” she sighed reluctantly.
“So …” He couldn’t help the curiosity overflowing. “Is Larry going to be in town when I get back?”
“I don’t know, Saul … I haven’t seen much of Larry lately.”
“No? Why not?” he asked, trying not to sound too pleased about it. She didn’t answer him. “Don’t be keeping him around if he’s not treating you right, Taya. Ty deserves better than that.”
“Yes, he does, Saul.” Her voice was sweet and warm, but Harris still felt a hidden blow to the ribs with that one.
“So do you, Taya,” his voice softening some. “You both do. Now, I have to go. I’ll speak to you when I get back.”
She hesitated, then spoke softly. “Stay safe, Saul.”
He paused, the sound of her voice sending a shot of regret through him. “I will. You too.”
He hung up the phone and stared down at the finger where his wedding ring used to be. They’d known each other for sixteen years now. He’d met her while he was on Earth Duty and she was working on secondment for a legal firm contracting to the UNF. Instantly attracted to her, he’d asked her out within five minutes of meeting her at the local UNF bar. She agreed, and within seven months they were living together and he’d proposed. Something just felt right about her, he couldn’t explain it.
Unfortunately, they’d had their difficulties over the years, adjusting to the amount of time he spent away from her, especially after Ty came into the world. They held it together for a while, but eventually succumbed and separated, although neither of them had been keen to take the final steps to divorce. Even thinking about it now, with the likes of the Jazz Club Woman and Veronica floating around in his head, he still couldn’t bear the thought. Taya was his wife. It just was what it was.
He sighed again and shrugged the thoughts from his mind. He had to let that go and concentrate on what lay ahead. He grabbed his kitbag and headed for the door, focusing his mind sharply on station Darwin.