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EXODUS OF

THE PHOENIX

ROBERT STADNIK

Exodus Of The Phoenix

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,

places, and incidents are either a product of the

author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any

resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons,

living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Acknowledgements

To Kristopher and my parents for supporting me.

Dad, Jani, Chris, and Amie for taking the time to read my drafts and their invaluable feedback.

PROLOGUE

April 20, 2074

“We’re clear of Saturn’s gravitational horizon,” crackled Mary’s voice over the ship’s antiquated speakers.

The captain stood in the washroom drying his rugged face, freshly cleaned from a thorough scrubbing of soap and water, when he heard the update. Some orange hydraulic fluid had dripped on him while he worked in the engine bay and he stopped by his quarters to get cleaned up. The thought of the fluid sitting on his face for any length of time annoyed him and he wanted to get rid of the greasy feeling. He also believed it important to lead by example and maintain a clean look for his crew, even if the crew consisted of just two other individuals.

His fist pounded the speaker button. “I’ll be right up. Set a course straight for Pluto.” He looked at his reflection in the mirror. A few more gray hairs had sprouted around his beard and moustache. Age made its presence known and even hair coloring wasn’t concealing the slow march of silver on the captain’s head. Whoever said a freighter captain’s job was easy was delusional. Sure the money was lucrative, but the stress could be hell at times. Maybe if he had a cushier job a lot less gray would be dancing around his head. The captain’s girlfriend was going to enjoy teasing him about his looks when he got back to Earth.

“Already done, captain,” replied Mary. The captain flipped the speaker off without a response. He hadn’t been in a good mood this entire trip. They just finished up a nonstop run from Earth to Mars, delivering garden plants to the colony nestled on the red planet. With no stopover at Luna the trip seemed lengthy and was taking its toll on the captain. He used to be able to handle such runs without missing a beat. Now that his youth had evaporated from his veins these assignments were becoming increasingly more cumbersome to undertake. He preferred the short jaunts between Earth and Luna and was planning to schedule the next few jobs delivering supplies to the moon. Screw Mars! They could get their cocoa beans and tomato plants from someone else. But first things first, the captain was looking forward to a relaxing three month sabbatical on Earth before resuming any more freight runs.

It would have been a great plan, but the government unexpectedly contacted him with a job offer. The captain’s initial reaction was to say no. Actually, hell no! But the money offered him was simply too good to pass up. Despite feeling older greed always got the better of him. He could be on his deathbed and still be able to pull a good one-two sucker punch to the Grim Reaper if enough money was dangled in front of him. The best part of this deal was being paid in full before completing the job. Talk about a windfall. No company every paid a full advance in the freighter business. With the amount of credits the government threw at the captain he would be able to enjoy his time off.

Up on the bridge Mary reclined in her chair, kicking her feet up on the brightly lit console before her. She gazed out of the panoramic window circumventing the small bridge area and saw nothing but empty space, only the stars dotting the background. It would be several weeks before they reached the outer rim of the solar system, the longest stretch any of them spent in space.

Mary looked over at her pilot and navigational support, Juan, who was sleeping peacefully at his station. He was curled up in his seat like a baby in the womb. Mary was envious of how easy it seemed for him to slumber.

Sleep was an elusive creature for Mary during space travel. It was a problem she wrangled to control and over time the trips between Earth and Mars had gotten easier. She took baby steps in order to overcome her insomnia. At first it was two days with no sleep, then a daily nap. She worked her way up to four hours of sleep a night, only waking up once or twice.

While awake Mary found ways to pass the time by stargazing. She had never been this far out of the solar system before and was hoping for some good glimpses of astronomical markers from the Oort Cloud. But the captain prevented her from partaking in such indulgences. He had been keeping her busy almost nonstop this trip, having her check the ship’s systems nonstop and making minor repairs.

The computer had detected a small spike in the ship’s power core, which was normal occurrence for an extended flight. Nevertheless, the captain went down to the engine bay to ensure there were no problems in either the core or the engines. Mary didn't consider him a true space farer like herself. Over the years she dealt with all sorts of emergencies on ships. You name it, she's experienced it. Nothing bothered her anymore, even something as critical as a hull breach. As long as the captain was flying the familiar routes between Earth, Mars, or Luna he was fine. But out here he seemed like a skittish child, lost and unsure of himself. If the government hadn’t offered so much money for this reconnaissance mission Mary was certain the captain wouldn’t have agreed to come out here.

“Ohh, ma,” muttered Juan in his sleep. Mary nudged him on the shoulder with her foot, not wanting to hear him babble in his sleep.

“Get up,” she ordered in a loud tone.

“Wha…,” sputtered Juan as he woke up. He looked around the bridge as he stretched his stiff body. “We there yet?” Juan had only been hired onto the ship four months ago and Mary had still not gotten accustomed to his little nuances, like sleeping at his flight station. It was bad enough he slept at the drop of a hat, but to do it at his post in front of her...

“Hardly,” said Mary, as she adjusted her posture in her seat. Juan rubbed his eyes and looked down at the instrument cluster.

“Aw man, why you wake me up so soon?” said the young Hispanic. His whining tone grated on Mary’s nerves.

“You’re not being paid to sleep,” said Mary.

It had been some time since she broke in a new crew member. Their last pilot served five years and Mary had him trained exactly to her liking. When he quit Mary was not relishing the thought of bringing someone new onto the team. She even argued with the captain that the two of them could operate the ship. In the end it was his decision and Mary had to abide by it. She was only a hired hand, but she felt her twelve years of service on the RENAULT should have counted for something. At the very least she should have been consulted on the new hire, which the captain neglected to do. He hired Juan and expected Mary to get him up to speed on their operations.

The situation infuriated Mary and she intended to talk to the captain about firing Juan once they returned to Mars. The pilot was too inexperienced and immature and Mary believed she was entitled to voice her opinion on the matter. Since Juan’s arrival she felt like a babysitter, a role she despised. The only consolation was that Juan was being paid a flat rate for this run instead of the usual commission crew members earned.

“We’ve cleared Saturn, so you might as well deploy another sensor package,” instructed Mary.

Juan grudgingly complied. Why couldn’t Mary deploy the sensors herself? It seemed like a waste to be woken up to punch a few measly buttons. He hit the sequence of colored buttons on his console to open the small launch bay. “Where’s the loco at?”

“The captain,” said Mary, stressing the word captain to Juan. “Is doing a check of the engines."

“Man, I never met anyone more paranoid than him,” said Juan as he waited for the computer to signal him the probe package was ready for launch.

Despite his immaturity Juan’s intuitiveness was correct about the captain. He had been on edge this entire trip and did not mask it from the crew. Mary confronted him and the captain admitted that something about this job bothered him, but he couldn't put his finger on it. His instincts were telling him to turn back to Earth, but he had no reasonable explanation why.

“He may be concerned, but I don’t blame him,” said Mary, trying to not draw too much attention to the captain’s apparent nervousness about the mission.

“You're not worried too are you?”

“A little bit. I’m actually more curious. I’d like to know exactly why the HORIZON stopped transmitting.”

The HORIZON was the International Space Agency's (ISA) pride and joy. It was to be the first ship to depart the solar system and travel through interstellar space, all thanks to the sophisticated jump gate it was carrying.

“What do you think happened?” Juan was eager to hear what an experienced space junkie like Mary thought. But she wasn’t interested in feeding any of his space faring fantasies.

“I think it’s a busted transmitter, nothing more.” She recounted all the ‘rescue’ missions she did where a supposedly lost ship had nothing more than failed communications equipment.

“Ahh, bullshit! You’re not any fun. You know what I think? The HORIZON encountered something.”

“Oh really?” Mary was amused but not surprised with his theory. It was typical for a young man to let his imagination get the better of him. “Some little green aliens we didn’t find on Mars are actually living on Pluto?”

“Maybe. I’ll bet you the HORIZON is in a thousand pieces, blown away by a ship or weapon hidden on Pluto.”

“You’ve been watching too many movies.” Even in this early age of space flight, no one took the thought of aliens seriously. It was a concept exploited over and over again in movies. The ISA had been sending out communications signals for years, but never received any replies. Personally, Mary didn't believe in aliens. It was the stuff of fiction, not reality.

"The HORIZON is probably already at Alpha Centauri." A blip from the computer interrupted their chat. Mary’s attention was drawn to her console. She immediately sat up straight and took a look at the information the sensors provided her. “We’ve got an object moving at high velocity in our general direction.” Juan checked his monitor which registered the same blip.

“I have it on my scope. Is it the HORIZON?” asked Juan.

That was Mary's initial assumption. The RENAULT and HORIZON were the only ships known to be in the outer solar system, but the sensor data indicated the object was moving faster than the HORIZON’s top speed. The HORIZON could only achieve such velocity if it used the gravity well of Pluto to slingshot back to the inner solar system. Mary also noticed the mass of the object was smaller than the HORIZON. She tried to get more details on the projectile, but the RENAULT wasn’t equipped with sophisticated scanners to provide detailed information. She fiddled with the controls, but she couldn’t get an accurate reading of the object.

“Juan, alter our course by 30 degrees portside,” ordered Mary. Juan did what she asked, but he was unnerved that she never answered his question. Not yet alarmed, Mary got on the ship’s speakers to inform the captain of their current situation.

“Captain, we’ve got a UFO moving in our direction,” she said, without a hint of nervousness in her voice.

“Unidentified? Damn it! I’ll be right up.”

Mary clicked off the speaker and stared at the screen. What could it be? The object was smaller than the RENAULT and Mary couldn’t recall any other commercial craft with the ability to move so fast. They were told the military didn't have any long range ships. Even if what they were tracking was a military craft it would have broadcasted a transponder identification code.

“Shit man!” blurted Juan in a panic tone. “It’s changed direction to match our course correction. It’s still heading right towards us.”

“Relax Juan. It’s not little green men coming after us.” Mary tweaked the scanners to their most sensitive setting, hoping to get something of a fix on what the object might be. But the sensors wouldn’t yield any new information.

Now Mary was becoming worried. She thought it may have been some interstellar debris or comet, but that assumption flew out the window when the object matched the RENAULT’s course correction. She always had logical explanations to explain a situation, but this defied all logic. The only conclusion that fit with this situation was that the object was a ship.

“Fire up the top cannon and target the object,” ordered Mary. Her instruction confirmed Juan’s fears that they were in trouble. But she had no interest in coddling him. “If we can’t avoid it we’ll have to prevent it from colliding with us.”

As Juan worked the cannon controls, Mary altered their heading by another 20 degrees and fired up the ship’s thrusters to full speed. Again, the object matched the RENAULT’s change in course. Mary said nothing, but a lump developed in her throat. Not knowing what was approaching was beginning to scare her. She still hoped it was a military vessel, but the lack of a transponder code made it unlikely. In addition, the captain received specific information from the military stating they had no long range ships out this far. So if it wasn’t the HORIZON and assuming the military was telling the truth, what could this object be?

“The cannon’s charged and ready,” said Juan, who was beginning to sweat as nerves started to overwhelm his senses. Mary didn’t look at him as he spoke, instead focusing her attention at the blip on her station screen.

“I said the cannon’s ready,” repeated Juan. Mary ignored his panic tone out as she speculated on what they were dealing with. The object continued to move at the same rate of speed towards them. Given its rate of velocity, a collision would certainly destroy the RENAULT.

Then it clicked. They hadn’t done the one obvious thing. Mary turned on the communications antenna. “Unidentified object, this is the ETS RENAULT. Repeat, this is the Earth Transport Ship RENAULT, Mars registry M-B412. Please identify yourself.” She wanted to hit herself for letting her fears get in the way of her thinking, but now she felt a bit more at ease. Certainly they would get a response from it.

She held her breath, hoping to hear an answer to the hail, but at first only background static filled the speakers. Then, without warning, a large screeching sound came through the speakers. It was deafening and painful, piercing through the crew’s ears. Juan could only sit with his hands clamped over his ears in a vain attempt to block the sound out. Mary ignored the pain, despite it feeling like a hundred knives were stabbing her brain. She scrambled in her seat and turned off the speakers to get relief from the sound.

“Chica,” said Juan, ignoring the ringing in his ears. “The object, it’s moving faster.” Mary checked her scope. The object had indeed accelerated to twice its previous speed. It was moving too fast now to avoid it. The RENAULT couldn't outrun something moving so fast. Fear had now gripped Mary and she was paralyzed at her station. It had been years since she felt this way.

“Juan, how long will it take to deploy and activate the sensor packet on the probe?” she managed to mutter in a low tone.

“Two minutes. Why?”

“Deploy the probe and activate its sensors. Have it send all data to the nearest listening post around Mars.”

“What’s that going to do to help us?” he sputtered almost hysterically.

“We don’t have much time,” replied Mary, becoming calm as her fear subsided. It was strange but somehow she knew their fates were sealed. It did nothing to eliminate her fear, but somehow the realization provided her with some small comfort. “Launch the probe.”

“Aw, shit, shit, shit…,” said Juan over and over again as he hit the release button and launched the probe. He watched on his monitor as the probe slowly glided away from the RENAULT. Once it had reached a far enough distance from the ship he activated it. Its outer silver-colored cylindrical casing blew off and two large poles retracted outward. Within moments the sensor pallet on the probe powered up and became active. Juan linked the probe to the ship’s scanner system.

“It’s done.” But Mary didn't hear him. She just looked out through the bridge windows.

“Chica, what is it?” he asked, seeing her in an almost trance-like state.

“It should be in visual range any moment,” said Mary, trying to catch some glimpse of the object. “As soon as it’s in range, fire the cannon.” Juan set the cannon to auto fire on the object once it got close enough.

“What should we do?” he asked, looking for direction from Mary, but she said nothing. He turned around and looked at her, panic clearly visible on his face. “Mary, we need to do something.”

He was young and inexperienced. Mary didn’t have the heart to tell him she was out of options and she was too preoccupied with trying to locate the object outside.

Juan jumped out of his chair and approached her. “We can’t just sit here.”

“There’s nothing else we can do,” she muttered, never taking her eyes off the bridge window. All Juan could do now was look out the window with her and try to find the object approaching them.

For what seemed like an eternity both searched for signs of the oncoming object. Neither noticed the captain entering the bridge behind them. He heard everything that they both said in the last few minutes and realized his instincts were correct. He should have never accepted this job. All they could do now was see what would come.

A bright light blinked in the far distance catching the crew's attention. It slowly grew bigger and bigger, as if a star was being born and shining its light for the entire universe to behold. The three hearts of the RENAULT’s crew began to beat rapidly in unison. The captain and Mary both stood their ground, but the fear finally overtook Juan as he scurried to the rear of the bridge like a frightened child.

The light grew in both size and intensity as it reached the ship and enveloped it. The cannon never had time to fire as the targeting system malfunctioned from an energy overload.

For a brief moment, in the vacuum and darkness of space, a bright ball of orange light shimmered where the RENAULT held its position. When the light dissipated all that was left were shards and burnt pieces of metal where the freighter ship once hovered. The only other movement was that of the unknown object, a green triangular ship.

The ship slowly passed by the remnants of the RENAULT. It stopped briefly, as if observing the wreckage, but only for a moment. The ship then turned and sped away from the scene, quickly racing out the same path it came in. The only witness was the sensor probe that had survived the incident. It floated unassuming through space as it continued to transmit its data back towards Mars.

CHAPTER ONE

December 2142, seventy-four years later

Location: Governors Island - New York City, New York

Planet Earth

The sounds of the electronic bells reverberated through the corridors of the academic buildings at TERRA Academy. At Liberty Hall, students burst from the lecture rooms and spilled out into the large hallway. Cheers echoed throughout the building as the cadets celebrated the end of the winter semester. A mixture of first, second, third, and fourth year students wasted no time sharing tales of final exam horrors as they exited the building. One student walked casually through the crowd without speaking a word to anyone. He was oblivious to his peers and did not care to participate in their ritualistic banter. Only a shout from behind stopped his advance out of the building.

“John! Hey, John! Wait up!” John turned to see his best friend racing to catch up.

“Hey Billy,” said John. Once Billy reached him both young men headed out of the building onto the campus grounds which was now flooded with cadets.

“How do you think you did on McLeeland’s final?” asked Billy, as he brushed his hand through his short, dusty blonde hair.

“Wasn’t a problem,” replied John nonchalantly. Billy knew his friend’s low key response meant he aced the exam.

“Bullshit! I saw you finish it in, like, twenty minutes.”

John smiled. “What can I say? McLeeland’s tests are never that hard.”

Billy shook his head. “Maybe for you. You’re the only person who would say something like that.” It was generally agreed amongst the student body that LaDonna McLeeland gave the toughest exams on campus. “If only I could get by without studying.”

“Hey, I actually read the textbook this semester,” said John. “Well, portions of it.” Billy just stared at him. "Alright, I only skimmed the chapter summaries."

Billy rolled his eyes as they walked through the campus. “So you actually turned your DAT on this semester. You're probably the first one who's passed spatial physics without reading the text.” Both cadets stopped when they reached the quad area. “Since we’re done with finals we better head back to Dorm Row and get ready for the parties tonight.”

"Can't, I’ve got to see Superintendent Mortino in a couple of hours,” said John. “So I’m just going to hang around here until the meeting." The request from the superintendent’s office came in on John’s DAT (Data Acquisition Terminal) just before the start of his last final.

“You either got a spring assignment in the fleet or pissed Mortino off again.”

“Yeah, I'm sure I'm at the top of the list to work in the fleet this spring," said John as he rolled his eyes.

Those seniors lucky enough to be chosen had the opportunity to spend their last semester getting hands on experience in the field. Competition was fierce as cadets spent their entire four years at the Academy proving to the faculty they were worthy for selection. Cadets posted to the fleet their last semester typically climbed faster through the ranks of TERRA.

John never made any attempt to solidify his chance for an assignment. It meant trying to ingratiate himself with the staff and John didn't operate that way. As a result, there were very few professors who liked John.

"No, I'm still scheduled to take classes,” said John. “So that means I must have ticked off our superintendent.”

“Any idea what it’s about?”

“Who knows? But I’m sure it’ll be followed up with a lecture about me not putting forth my best effort.” Billy laughed as John almost sounded like Mortino on one of his tirades.

“Well, that sucks if you’re stuck here ‘till June,” said Billy.

“I don’t care. I'll gladly pass up a post this spring as long as I get a position on one of the capital ships after graduation.”

“I heard Martin Freeman got picked for an assignment,” said Billy. “He’s going to be working in orbital control on Luna Station.”

“Martin’s a brown noser and an asshole,” said John. ”He probably slept with an admiral to get the assignment.”

“Damn John! A bit bitter, aren’t we?” remarked Billy, who was surprised by his friend’s strong reaction. “You may have standards, but I’d sleep with the superintendent’s 80 year old wife just to get off campus early.”

John shuddered at the thought. “That is the sickest, most twisted thing you’ve ever said! Thanks for the visual. I'm going to have nightmares.”

Billy playfully shoved his friend on the arm. “Oh, come on. People would do anything for a spring assignment and you’re no different.”

“Yeah, but I’m a realist.” Billy couldn’t disagree with his friend. John’s cavalier attitude about his studies and his perceived capability of the faculty as inferior had alienated him from any chance of being sponsored for a coveted spot in the fleet for his last semester.

The pair approached the central square of the campus. “Well, whatever Mortino is going to lay into you about, don’t let it go on too long. I’ll be with the guys at Sirk’s celebrating. So hurry up otherwise you'll miss the fun.”

“I’m not missing out on tonight,” said John as the young men parted ways and headed in opposite directions. “I’ll call you when I’m done with Mortino.”

“Sounds good,” called back Billy, signaling with his thumbs up.

As John and Billy parted ways, Superintendent Paul Mortino was standing alone in the conference room on the top floor of the administration building. He watched from the window as the students scurried around the campus grounds like ants, the same process repeated each semester. With finals over and the stress of their studies behind them, cadets wasted no time heading back to Dorm Row for a weekend of celebration. The campus would soon be nothing more than a ghost town as even the faculty left. Everyone would be hurrying home to spend time with their loved ones for the winter break. No instructor ever graded winter exams on campus. In a matter of hours only the maintenance bots would be left to tidy up the grounds.

The superintendent enjoyed watching his students go about their activities. He felt like a father figure as he observed their interactions with one another as they meandered off the campus grounds. He took his duties as superintendent seriously and believed the performance of the cadets was a reflection on his ability to run the Academy. He felt pride seeing his cadets head home after another semester of hard work.

The creaking sound of the conference room door opening interrupted Mortino’s thoughts. He turned to see the campus instructors file in.

“Ah, ladies and gentleman. Please come in and sit,” he said in his usual formal tone. He moved to the head of the conference table and waited patiently for the instructors to take their seats. “I know you are all anxious to head home so I won’t take too much of your time.”

As the last instructor took his seat, Mortino handed a stack of papers to the instructor sitting to his left. “What I’m passing to you is a list of some of the seniors graduating this year. As you know TERRA is overburdened with excess personnel and has been looking to curtail the numbers. Lowering the number of students we accept to the Academy has not had an appreciable effect on this problem. You've all heard these past few weeks the rumors about a new program being instituted to solve TERRA’s problem. I'm here to confirm those rumors are true."

The faculty looked at one another. They had heard about a new program circulating the rumor mill. It had been extensively discussed how to reduce the number of people entering TERRA without upsetting the population. The problem had been examined for so long no one expected a solution.

Mortino continued. "The list provided to you is of this year's graduating seniors selected to go into the new program.”

“It looks like almost a quarter of the senior class is on here,” commented tactics instructor George Paez.

Mortino nodded. “Correct. As you know each graduating senior that enters TERRA is guaranteed financial security and benefits for life. The fleet simply does not have the means to support this arrangement any longer. To remedy the problem the command council created a reservist program that these seniors will be the first to enter. Rather than work as TERRA officers, they will be placed on reserve status and will only be called upon to serve during times of war.”

“And what exactly does reserve status mean?” asked engineering instructor Brandi Marcus.

“These reservists will not actively work in TERRA, instead applying the skills they've learned here in the private sector. They will receive no pay or support from TERRA whatsoever.”

McLeeland interrupted Mortino. “Our cadets work hard and sacrifice a lot to qualify for entry into the Academy. Many spend their entire lives preparing themselves for the entrance exams. What’s the point of them going through all that if they won’t become officers?”

“The reserve program won’t diminish the respect TERRA graduates have from the public. Our academic program rivals those of the best civilian universities. Private companies will be begging to have graduates work for them, if for nothing else but the prestige of an Academy graduate on their payroll. Reservists will enjoy the same respect as an officer.”

"Except that they won't be officers," stressed McLeeland.

The instructors talked amongst themselves and offered their opinions about the new program. Mortino gave them a moment to digest the information before continuing the meeting.

“I understand some of you may have the same concerns as Professor McLeeland, but the decision has been made. The command council has asked for your support in helping these seniors transition into the program.”

“I notice John Roberts on the list,” said Marcus. “Is there a particular reason why?”

Mortino cleared his throat. He had hoped no one would have noticed that cadet's name on the list, but he knew someone was bound to point it out. “It was decided that Cadet Roberts would be a better fit for the reservist program.”

“The most intelligent cadet ever to come through the Academy isn’t officer material?” asked McLeeland. She never minced words, always going straight to the point. “I know everyone here has had their own experience with him, especially you Superintendent. But punishing him by denying him a place in the fleet is a bit petty, is it not?”

“It’s no secret that Cadet Roberts has been a difficult student for us. A TERRA officer has to respect the chain of command and his peers. Cadet Roberts does neither. He openly mocks TERRA’s philosophy and our methods. With placement in the fleet mandated to be cut we cannot afford to waste space on individuals who may prove to be a disruption where they are assigned. I am not concerned about Cadet Roberts. With his intelligence he will undoubtedly have the choice of any job in the private sector.”

“Our students aren’t here to get rich in the private sector,” piped up the usually quiet field maintenance instructor Alfred Hither. “They come here so that they can serve in the fleet. As Professor McLeeland pointed out they sacrificed a lot to make it to the Academy.”

“They will continue to serve TERRA, just in an auxiliary capacity,” said Mortino. His patience trying to appease the faculty's questions was coming to an end. “The purpose of this meeting was to inform you of the program. The debate on its merits has already been thoroughly discussed by the command council. Our job is to provide a united front and support it when it goes public Monday. I don’t want to keep you any longer as I’m sure you’re all anxious to see your families.”

Mortino was always good at politely telling people to get the hell out. He was a natural politician which is why he was considered one of the best superintendents to run the Academy. He knew how to get things done and how to deal with people.

The faculty got up and filed out of the conference room, talking with one another as they left. McLeeland approached Mortino as he was gathering his papers. “Who has the fortune of informing the selected cadets about this?”

“The cadets will be informed of their assignment no differently than those entering the fleet.” Graduating cadets were informed of their assignments the first week in May each year.

“Even Cadet Roberts? Seems to me he deserves better than a letter delivered to him by a mail bot.”

“I suspect he will not take the news lightly, which is why I will be informing him personally today.”

“Don’t try to enjoy it too much, Paul,” remarked McLeeland. "Despite what you told everyone, it will appear that Cadet Roberts was selected out of spite." Without waiting for Mortino to respond she turned and left the conference room.

She was right. Mortino had chosen John because of all the trouble he had caused. He had humiliated and undermined Mortino's authority these past four years, and no one gets away with crossing him. The superintendent bided his time to get back at Cadet Roberts and thankfully the time had finally arrived.

CHAPTER TWO

John looked at the large analog clock on the campus tower to check the time. It was fifteen minutes past two o'clock. He was already late for his meeting with Mortino. He had lost track of time letting his mind wander, something he was in the frequent habit of doing. For most students the end of final exams was a huge weight off their shoulders, but not for John. He never worried about exams and never stressed about any of his classes. He studied little and walked into class knowing he could pass any test presented to him.

John's mind was preoccupied with the upcoming spring semester and it wasn't regarding a fleet posting. The young man had already resigned himself that he was never going to get one. In May, the seniors would be notified of their placement in the fleet and John was going over the possibilities of where TERRA might put him.

Cadets could submit requests for assignments with the placement board, to let them know what career track they wanted to pursue. John had made a request to serve on a capital ship, but he didn't specify a position. He didn't care if he was assigned to sweeping the decks or unclogging toilets as long as he was on a ship.

For years John dreamed of living in space and the only option available was a position on one of TERRA's five capital ships. He wasn't expecting to get a desirable position if he was posted to one. The evaluations on his transcripts were less than stellar, but his grades in ship operations, starship design, and engineering were top notch. He thought that after twenty or so years, when his reputation at the Academy had faded, he would have a chance to command a capital ship. Maybe by then humans would be exploring space outside the solar system, but that was a silly thought. John believed that an assignment to a capital ship was a realistic goal, but venturing into deep space? That was an entirely different matter. Deep space exploration was not a possibility with the threat of the Screen looming over humanity.

John finished his lunch and got up from his seat on the bench. He threw the leftovers in the trash bin and brushed off the crumbs from his uniform. He was prepared for another encounter with Mr. High-and-Mighty. Roberts and Mortino had a mutual dislike for one another and that was putting it politely. John had wound up in the superintendent’s office numerous times over the course of his time at the Academy. It was rumored that John held the Academy record of most times sent to the superintendent's office.

Mortino had threatened to expel John on more than one occasion, saying he couldn’t hide behind the safety of his good grades forever. It was a privilege to attend the Academy and every teenager on Earth, Luna, and Mars competed fiercely to earn a spot on the freshman class roster. Usually at that point in the lecture John would roll his eyes, making sure Mortino saw to incense him further, and tune him out. John would make an obnoxious grin while Mortino spouted his holier-than-thou TERRA philosophy and what it meant to be an officer. He was certain that Mortino's evaluation of John was the most scathing in his records.

John trekked slowly across campus to the administration building as he thought about the superintendent. The campus itself was a scientific wonder. Every conceivable plant life on Earth was displayed here. Plants that couldn’t thrive on the campus grounds were housed in one of four large crystal domes that sat at each corner of the campus. The domes were fifty stories tall and served as a physical marker to locate the campus from the air. The domes were all interconnected by walls that were actually buildings. It gave the feeling that the campus was a fortified installation. The building at the north entrance was split in two where the entry gate was located.

John reached the eastern wall which was the administration building. It was composed of a polysynthetic glass which acted as a large mirror. The inner wall was red brick that composed actual building. A line of windows stretched across it, allowing those inside to watch who was coming in or out. Unfortunately, Superintendent Mortino’s office was one of the offices located on the inner side of the building so John felt Mortino had the advantage of seeing the young cadet approaching. The first thing Mortino would probably comment on would be the casual pace John was walking which caused him to be late.

A few jumps up some small steps and John was at the main entrance to the building. He gripped one of the door handles with his hand and held it there for a moment. He took a deep breath, trying to expel the nervousness in his body. He would never admit it to anyone, but he always got butterflies in his stomach prior to any meeting with Mortino. It wasn’t that he was intimidated by the superintendent. He thought Mortino was nothing more than a puppet who couldn’t handle a crisis in the real world. It was just one of those things he couldn’t explain.

John pushed the glass door forward and entered the large, circular lobby. Several snapshots of the campus during its construction adorned the walls, each with a brief description of the year it was taken and what the photo depicted. People entering the lobby immediately zeroed in on the receptionist area at the center. Like the lobby itself the reception desk was round. It was elevated to the chest level of most students so the receptionists had to look up at visitors to speak with them.

Sally Cornich was the head receptionist here. She worked at the school for the past seventeen years and had become a permanent fixture at the Academy. She excelled at her job, unlike the other two receptionists she oversaw. Sally didn’t need to consult the directory when a visitor checked in. She knew the names of every administrator and instructor on campus, the layout of the campus, and possessed comprehensive knowledge of the school's academic programs. It wasn’t unheard of for students to get Sally’s advice on their choice of courses when they were unsure of the information given to them by their academic advisors. She had a pleasant personality no matter who she dealt with and could turn a person's bad mood into a positive outlook. Students generally considered her the mother on campus.

Two of Sally's kids had gone through the Academy and were now members of TERRA themselves, but she never talked much about them. Any parent with a son or daughter in TERRA made sure everyone knew it. It was simply too great an accomplishment to keep under wraps. Yet for some reason Sally never discussed her kids. She was a widow and rumors circulated that her husband died while serving in TERRA. But no one could even verify if that was true. No student ever asked about her family as no one wanted to risk offending her.

Sally was always supportive and positive to the students here. She considered them her extended family and would do whatever she could to help them through their years here and John was no exception. Whenever he was summoned to see the superintendent Sally would always say, “You’re such a good boy, why must trouble always find you?” As if John was innocent of everything he did and merely a victim of circumstance. But she never frowned upon him. She gave him a big hug after every reprimand, telling John everything would be fine. Her positive demeanor was an antidote to Mortino's harsh words.

Sally’s bubbly personality was no different today. She was by herself, having let the other two receptionists take the day off. The lobby was deserted, not a soul to be seen anywhere. The students had long since vacated the campus with celebrations already underway throughout the city. John likened the empty campus to a Screen alert which the campus underwent once a year. When the alarms went off the students and faculty headed to one of the numerous underground shelters, leaving the topside of the campus deserted.

During his second year John decided to go against protocol and did not proceed to a bunker. As the alert sounded off he snuck away and hid in the bathroom while his starship design class joined the rest of campus underground. After about fifteen minutes of hiding John headed outside onto the grounds. It was eerily quiet as the entire top level was devoid of people. Even the campus bots were programmed to head to their stations and shut down during the drill. John meandered down to the center tower and even took a couple pictures of himself alone on the grounds with his DAT. He was sure no one would catch him and that he would just rejoin the other students as they emerged from the bunkers. Unfortunately, John didn’t know that a TERRA fighter squadron did reconnaissance sweeps over the campus during the drill and they locked onto John when their scanners picked up the only human life sign topside of the campus.

John never saw Mortino so angry. He was surprised the superintendent didn’t blow a blood vessel. Mortino rambled on about TERRA ethics and standards, his arms waving wildly as he stomped around his office swearing numerous times that John had ended his career with that stunt. But strangely a day after the drill Mortino changed his tune and instead of being expelled John was disciplined by working a week in the campus kitchen. John was surprised by this seemingly change of heart and he wasn't the only one. Everyone expected him to be booted from the Academy and for weeks rumors circulated what John did to avoid expulsion. His favorite rumor was that his father was actually an admiral on the council and smoothed things over with Mortino. Not a lot of people knew that John's parents had been dead for years.

“Good afternoon John,” said Sally, interrupting John as he reminisced about that incident. “Finals go well for you?”

“I did ok.” He leaned up on the desk. “How bad is it?” referring to Mortino’s demeanor.

“He’s actually in a very good mood,” answered Sally as she scratched her curly red hair with her stylus. “He finished a staff meeting not too long ago and seems quite upbeat. I don’t think you have to worry.”

John smiled. “I never have anything to worry about.”

Sally chuckled and patted John on the cheek. “You’re such a good boy. Why does trouble always follow you around?”

“Dumb luck I guess.”

“I’m sure he saw you coming. Go on in,” said Sally, waving John towards the hall. “And good luck.”

John gave Sally a quick smile before heading down the hallway. Mortino’s office was the first one on the left side, so it wasn't much of a long walk. John reached the door and knocked, not wanting to stall any longer. His mind was already shifting to getting over to the bar for some fun. John may not have been stressed with finals exams but he still had some steam to blow off that only a night of drinking could handle.

“Come in,” came the sound of Mortino’s voice behind the door. John always shuddered hearing that snotty tone of the superintendent's voice. He took a deep breath, turned the knob and opened the door.

Mortino’s office was well decorated as the superintendent was an enthusiastic fan of various forms of artwork. Paintings and sculptures littered his office, but not to the extent that it looked cluttered. As one entered the office Mortino’s desk sat to the right of the room. It was a large redwood desk, a classic piece of carpentry that was made sometime in the early 21st century. The wall behind the desk was a bookshelf and was filled to the brim with books ranging from philosophy, TERRA tactical manuals, and literature from some of history’s famous writers. John wondered if Mortino actually kept the books in some sort of order, but never had a chance to carry on a civilized conversation with him long enough to find out. John thought it would be a great prank to break in and rearrange the books on the shelf, maybe throw in a few DATs loaded with pornography. It would be a great farewell senior graduation prank.

On the other side of the room sat a dark brown leather couch that ran the length of most of the wall. Adjacent to the couch was a table, similar in color to the couch, where a lamp and several pictures of Mortino’s family were arranged. The pictures were of his wife and two daughters. John never met them, but he assumed the daughters were probably bitches and the wife some upper-class socialite who flashed a phony smile whenever in public. He disliked Mortino so much that any family member of the superintendent had to be as despicable as him.

As John entered the office he saw that Mortino was standing in front of his office window looking out at the campus. His hands were clasped behind his back, looking aristocratic as ever. He didn’t turn when John walked in so the cadet announced himself.

“You wanted to see me, Superintendent?”

“You seemed to have forgotten that we had an appointment at two, Mr. Roberts.”

“No, I didn’t forget,” replied John in a matter-of-fact tone. John decided to start Mortino’s vacation off to a good start by getting him mad. He watched the superintendent slowly walk over to his desk and sit down.

“Have a seat cadet,” Mortino said as he reclined in his chair. He didn’t seem to react to John’s comment which disappointed the cadet.

John sat in one of the two chairs that faced the superintendent’s desk. Roberts watched as Mortino picked up a DAT. These small rectangular computer devices had replaced paper in TERRA as the primary form of holding information. John observed Mortino as he read his DAT. At first he was curious at what the superintendent was looking up, but his mind slowly gravitated towards the older man’s head. John couldn't help but stare at the large bald spot, Mortino’s gray hair now covering only the sides of his head. John prided himself on thinking he helped accelerate Mortino's baldness.

“I received your grades for some of your classes already. Not bad, three A’s so far. Looks like you might have your best semester ever.”

“I chalk it up to an easy semester,”“”