Hello, my name is Jack.  Some things need to be done.  Some people don’t like seeing things done.  And some people just don’t like being woke up at oh dark thirty to deal with the things done.  They tend to make certain the doer never forgets the doing, whether it was done well or not.  I used to think that wasn’t fair.  Then I realized that was life.  Sometimes the pooch just finds you.

 

 

The Pooch

 

Jack scanned Leif Erikson Spacebase from atop the primary watchtower.  Sergeant Jenkins, a man who looked older than dirt and twice as mean, wore glasses that magnified everything on command, much like the canopy of Jack’s fighter, and looked out through the massive clear walls, scanning the packing taking place on the landing field.  The spacebase was old, most of its buildings made of pre-Peloran technology.  The clear walls were simply that, some kind of old flexible plastic or glass without any of the integrated computer functions that new construction had.  Holoemitters inside the watchtower helped some, at least pointing out anything of interest, but it wasn’t the same as a proper modern watch screen.

It was amazing really, that the spacebase was nearly two centuries old.  It had been the first American base built outside the Terran system, but it was almost an afterthought in the modern American navy.  New Washington was where the navy worked out of now, while Leif Erikson Spacebase was little more than an historical outpost with a single reserve squadron still kept active because some sponsor in the government, probably a Senator, kept funding going to it.  Of course, whoever did that was almost certainly dead now.  Jack wondered if the spacebase would remain open after they left.  Probably.  It was a time of War after all.  Nobody wanted to close military bases during War.  But in this last month, the base had seen more activity than it had in the last century combined.

Nearly three-dozen shuttles squatted over the landing field, ramps lowered to the ground on all sides, making them look for all the worlds like giant spiders at rest.  Crates rolled up the ramps from trucks on the ground, like they did at every other spaceport on the planet.  Fortunes worth of food, medicines, and even weapons filled the crates, gathered from all over New Earth to support the task force of nearly fifty Western Alliance warships supporting the Peloran.

Even the Peloran needed some of them, replenishing stocks of animals and plants killed during the previous battles.  There were also spare parts for the Cowboy fighters, food for the Cowboys themselves, and so much more that the others who were joining the squadron simply assumed were needed because the regs said they were needed.  Jack understood.  He really did.

Two months ago, he’d been in the same position, believing that he really did need to bring the supplies the regs required with him, no matter what the Peloran told him.  Now though, he understood the reality of what it meant to be on a ship designed to fly across the known galaxy without stopping to pick up food.  The Peloran ships grew their own food, built their own spare parts, refueled by flying into gas giants, and used asteroid belts to replenish their metal reserves.

The Peloran could fly forever and never stop, unless they took heavy enough damage to require them to stop and repair.  That of course had happened in the battles over Earth and New Earth.  Despite that, the Peloran were taking on a very small amount of food and raw materials.  The Guardian Light, for a kilometer-long warship, had a very small crew.  The Light carried hundreds of fighter pilots, but Jack had only ever seen a dozen or so crewmembers beyond Aneerin.  The Peloran ships simply didn’t need many supplies compared to modern American warships.

One day, if he survived this War, he would fly a ship like that, just him and Betty.  They would never stop flying and never slow down unless they wanted to.  Jack smiled, enjoying the dream in his mind.  It would be good to fly wherever he wanted, to stay away from the places he didn’t want.  Jack blinked, shook his head, and pulled in a deep breath.  It was time to get back to work.

“Chief, Jester here.  I’m in position.”

A hologram of Charles flickered into existence inside the watchtower.  “Get lost on the way?”

Jack laughed at the hologram.  “No, Sir.  Just took a few moments to look around up here.  Had to get my bearings, Sir.”

Charles nodded and looked out of the watchtower.  “It’s a good view.  I can see needing to get our bearings straight with a view like this.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Charles pointed his hand out.  “You getting a visual?”

Jack eyes followed the hand and he looked at the part of the landing field the fighters rested on.  Avenger, Hellcats, and even some Blackhawks that should have been retired before he was born covered that end of the tarmac.  The two on the very end, both Hellcats, were fueled up and ready to fly within a minute, the time it would take their pilots to run out of the underground ready room they were probably playing games in right now.

“I have visual,” Jack affirmed with a nod.  “So why do you want me up here in person again?”

Charles gave Jack a dark chuckle in response.  “Call it punishment for making me get out of bed last night.”

Jack rolled his eyes.  “Sir, he had a gun.  What was I supposed to do?”

Charles grunted in annoyance.  “Something that doesn’t get us in the news, and me woken up by a police call.”

Jack sighed.  “Sir, it is not my fault that the local police’s idea of proper response to a mugging is to hand over your wallet and then call 911.”

Charles turned to look at Jack with a raised eyebrow.  “You and I both know you could have ended that situation without hurting anybody, without making any waves.”

Jack sucked in a breath and shook his head.  “No, Sir, not in good conscience, Sir.  He was going to hurt someone waving that gun around, sooner or later.  He needed to be stopped, Sir.”

Charles shook his head in disbelief.  “This from the guy who tells all those horror stories about running from shotguns?”

Jack snorted.  “Sir, that’s shotguns.  They’re a lot scarier than dinky little pistols.  And, they were fathers.  I never wanted to hurt the girls by hurting the fathers, so yeah, I ran.”

Charles rolled his eyes.  “And next you’ll tell me they kept on missing on purpose too.”

Jack cleared his throat and smiled.  “Well, Sir.  As to that, they just wanted me out of the house.  They didn’t want to make their little girls cry any more than I did.  And I was smart enough to keep away from the ones crazy enough to shoot for real.”

Charles paused for several seconds, blinking.  “I do not know if I should believe a word you just said or not,” he finally said.

Jack’s smile turned large and full of charm.  “Sir, it is the requirement of an officer and a gentleman of the United States Marines to never lie to a superior officer, Sir.”

Charles shook his head.  “Great.  When you find one of those, let me know.”

“Sir, yes, Sir!” Jack answered with gusto.

Charles turned back to look at the landing field.  “Now shut up and watch and think about how happy I’ll be the next time you think about doing something that will result in me being called in the middle of the night.”

“Sir, yes, Sir!” Jack answered as he turned to follow Charles’ gaze.

The “unscheduled” combat exercise proved to be every bit as impressive as the tech wizards said it was going to be.  In the end, Jack was actually glad of the perspective he got.  He might have been far away from the action, using glasses to zoom in to see anything, and completely lacking the full holographic displays that tracked all participants in the exercise, but he had an amazing field of vision that took in the entire spacebase in one view.

And the tech wizards had totally outdone themselves.  The swarm of holographic dinosaurs that came charging towards the base from the distant trees looked so real that they actually stopped the emergency pilots in their tracks when they came out of the bunker.  Jack watched their mouths hang open as they stared in disbelief at the unexpected assault…giant lizards.

Jack winced as the fire breath washed across the base perimeter.  He had to admit it looked cool, but it was too much.  The pilots on the ground broke out of their trance and ran to their Hellcats.  If the tech wizards had kept the dinos normal, it might have taken the pilots longer to get their heads back.  As it was, they realized it was just another exercise, jumped in their fighters, and got into the air before the rampaging dinosaurs made it to the inner defense ring.

A few swift laser pulses, and a few missiles exploding in the air, sent the dinosaurs running for the trees.  The fighters swooped down, chasing the dinosaurs until they faded into the forest.  The surprise attack exercise by not-so-indigenous wild animals was driven off with minimal collateral damages, exactly as the regs required.

Jack turned to Charles with a smile.  “Well, Sir, I think they did admirably.”

Charles nodded and brought a hand up to rub his chin.  “Yes, I would agree.  Where do you think they won?”

Jack shrugged.  “The fire, Sir.”  It was an easy answer.

Charles nodded.  “Good eye.”

“I try, Sir,” Jack answered with a chuckle.

Charles scratched his chin again.  “I think I can trust you then.”

Jack blinked in confusion.  “Sir?”

Charles dropped his hand and slipped both behind his back as he turned to Jack, assuming the stance of a true officer.  “Sergeant Jenkins is due off station soon.  I need someone to man the tower until he comes back tomorrow morning.”

Jack glanced over to the sergeant to see the other man as confused as him.  “Um…Sir?”

Charles gave Jack a true officer’s smile, the kind of smile that made misbehaving privates run for the nearest PT run.  “You can do that, right?”

“Um…”  Jack wasn’t one to run, but he really didn’t like where this was going.

Charles waved his hand for silence.  “Thank you for volunteering.  Sergeant Jenkins appreciates it.”

Jack looked at Jenkins again, then back to Charles.  He opened his mouth to protest that he hadn’t volunteered for anything.

Charles aimed a miniscule shake of his head at Jack.  “Jester?”

“Yes, Sir?” Jack answered, wisely choosing not to protest after all.

Charles smile turned amused again, with a slight vindictive glint.  “Don’t do anything that will wake me tonight.”

“Sir.  Yes, Sir,” Jack answered without hesitation.

Charles gave him and almost sincere smile.  “I knew I could count on you,” he finished and his hologram faded out.

Sergeant Jenkins examined Jack for several seconds with an amused gaze before opening his mouth.  “Screwed the Major’s pooch?”

Jack cleared his throat.  “No.  But he got called to put it down.”

Jenkins patted Jack on the shoulder.  “Good luck, kid.”

Jack winced, not at the pat, but the reason for it.  “Thanks.  I think I’m going to need it.”

Jenkins chuckled.  “Your station, Sir.”

Jack nodded.  “My station.”

“Yes, Sir,” the man finished and turned to walk onto the lift.

It took him away, leaving Jack alone with Betty.

Jack let out a long breath.  “Well.  I guess that tells me.”

Betty didn’t answer.  She just walked up next to him and looked out over the spacebase with a smile on her face.

They stood that way for a long time, watching the crawling ants below them doing their thing.  Finally, Jack turned and moved to sit down in the chair before what controls the tower had.  It was going to be a very long watch.

And it was a very long watch.  He scanned cameras.  He played cards.  He looked out on the base with his own eyes and glasses.  He played the harmonica.  He watched the displays to make certain no single idiot light began blinking red.  Red was bad.  Red meant somebody had to be called.

Several hours into the watch, Betty interrupted another scan of the cameras.  “You have a call, Jack.”

Jack blinked up from his scan, suppressed a yawn, and shook his head.  “Who?”

“Bruce McEntyre.”

“Uffda,” he whispered without thinking.

Betty smiled.  “Don’t worry, I don’t think he wants to kill you.”

“Can you keep up the scan?”

Betty’s smile grew.  “Of course, Jack.”

She nodded and Bruce McEntyre’s hologram appeared in the middle of the tower.

Jack came to his feet and nodded at the older man.  “Hello, Sir.”

Mr. McEntyre did not look happy.  “Hello, Jack.  We need to talk.”

Jack suppressed a sigh.  That was never good.  “Yes, Sir.”

Samantha’s father just stared at him.  “About last night.”

Jack did not suppress the sigh this time.  “Yes, Sir.  Look, Sir, I’m not sorry for what I did.  Though I am sorry that she had to see it like that.”

Mr. McEntyre finally smiled.  “No apologies necessary, Jack.  I grew up in the hills back when we knew what do with guns.”

Jack paused a second before taking the safest route.  “Yes, Sir.”

Samantha’s father shook his head.  “You and I both know the world can be dangerous, Jack.  I always wanted to save my little girl from seeing that world.”  He gave Jack a sad shrug.  “I’m sorry I did it too well.”

“Sir…” Jack pulled in a deep breath as he searched for the words.  This really wasn’t the conversation he’d been expecting to have with her father.  “Would she be the Samantha we both know if you didn’t?”

“I don’t know,” her father whispered and shook his head again.  “I just wish there was something I could do.”

Jack blinked in confusion.  “Why?”

“I care about her.”

Jack shook his head and rubbed his temple.  “No.  Why do you feel the need to call me?  To be honest, I’ve never met a father who didn’t dream of his little girl kicking me to the curb.  And more than one tried to help me along himself.”

Mr. McEntyre stared at him for a long time before answering.  “I didn’t know you before Yosemite, so I’m not certain I can say.  And I’m not certain you’d want to hear my theory.”

Jack cocked his head in interest.  “Actually, Sir, I’d love to hear your thoughts on the matter.”

Samantha’s father shrugged.  “Very well.”  He shook his head and sighed.  “I’m going off what you’ve said here.  But if half of what you’ve said about your life back then is true, you were a young man with great gifts who completely and utterly wasted them in some young adult fantasy.  You were going nowhere, and happy to be doing it.  No father wants his daughter mixed up with a boy who doesn’t want to do anything.”

Jack swallowed and cleared his throat.  “Well, I did ask, didn’t I?”

Samantha’s father smiled.  “You did.”

Jack shook his head.  “I would go back to that if I could, you know.  In a heartbeat.”

Mr. McEntyre’s smile grew.  “I know.  I would go back if I could too.

Jack studied the older man for several seconds, wondering what life the man would go back for, before nodding in agreement.  It didn’t really matter at the moment.  It was the past.

“We can’t reclaim the past,” Jack whispered.

Samantha’s father nodded.  “The trick is knowing when the past is really the past,” he said with a sly smile, “and not just a difficult present.”

Jack frowned in thought for several seconds before nodding.  Then he smiled as another thought came to mind.  “Isn’t that how most stalker movies start, Sir?”

Samantha’s father laughed in amusement before shaking his head.  “Tell you what, Jack.  You can call me Bruce, and I’ll see what I can do with Sam.”

Jack sighed and looked away from Mr. McEntyre’s holoform, taking in the preparations on the landing field.  The launch day was classified, but the fact that they were preparing to leave was just about the worst kept secret in the entire Alpha Centauri double star system.  “There’s not much time, Sir,” he said, with half of his brain.  “I don’t know if there’s enough.”

Samantha’s father cleared his throat.  “What did I tell you to call me?”

Jack brought his attention back to the man, blinked once, and cleared his throat.  “Bruce.”

“Better,” the man who would never be Bruce in his mind said with a smile.  “No promises, but I’ll do what I can,” he finished before his holoform cut out.

Jack sat back down, hard, and shook his head.  Of all the people to be on his side, he’d never expected the father.  The universe had a truly vicious sense of humor.