“Are you sure you can handle this dingy?” Jackson said swiping Rougeau on the shoulder. “She’s twenty years old if she’s a day.”
“Captain, you could put wings on the kitchen sink and I could fly it.” He admired Rougeau’s spirit. Jackson didn’t want to send too many of his crew members to Cinco given the experience of the last few weeks. Chen Lee remained in sick bay with Scott Gregory.
“Adams, you’re the lead on this excursion. Get down there, get them set up, and get back up here.”
“Captain,” Ferris piped up. “Against personal wishes or not, I put a sub-dermal transceiver in every member of the team. Here’s the frequency for each person.” She handed him a data pad before climbing aboard. “You should be able to pick us up anywhere but for a maybe a few hundred kilometers of the poles.”
“Good thinking,” he said.
“I’m expecting this to take, oh, five days, now that most of the infrastructure is in place.” Adams also handed Jackson a data pad. “They need to get up to speed in manufacturing. They claim their Otars will be available, trainable, and will do the field work.”
“What about distribution and documentation?”
“Yee Akadar tells me they can handle it. Hell, Jack, if they can build a gigantic stadium and transportation systems like they have, our challenge is to turn it over to them, not do it for them.”
“I have complete confidence in you, Doc. All of you, good luck. We’ll be waiting for you.”
Back on Maria Mitchell’s deck, he closed and sealed the airlock so the Kiian dingy could leave at will. He noticed scorch marks on the jamb and decided those would have to be removed as soon as Mr. Campbell was back.
Jackson’s next stop was the galley where he made himself a cup of coffee. From there he headed for sick bay to see how his injured crewmen were faring, and to check on Wilson Mills. He’d been curt with him the last couple of days and that required an apology. Jackson didn't have a lot of experience in apologies, but he owed the man.
“Doctor Scott Gregory, you are awake,” Jackson said. His friend nodded.
“I am alive, and I understand I owe you thanks, Cap'n.”
“You’d have done the same for me. How long are they gonna keep you here?”
“Adams said another twenty-five hours. How’s Chen?”
“I stopped here first. Adams told you about Cat?” Scott’s face fell and he nodded slightly. He shifted with some difficulty in the bed.
“I wish I could have done something. She risked her life on the planet to get me away from Dukvita’s compound. She deserves a medal for bravery under fire or something, whatever we give to heroes nowadays.”
“You’re the first one conscious from the team. Can you give me a formal report?”
“Sure. It was the most harrowing day of my life. You’ve been in the military, not me.”
“Being shot at is never a pleasant experience. An adrenaline high maybe, but never pleasant.”
“Not just the shuttle, us, our corporeal selves!” Tom watched Scott’s fear seeping out as anger. He put a hand on his friend's arm.
“I didn’t plan to leave you behind.”
“I know, Tom, I’m just not cut out for deep space, I suppose.”
“An astrophysicist not cut out for deep space? Not buying it. You spent a year earning a doctorate just so you could stay home and look at things everyone already knows about?” Tom leaned back against the wall and folded his arms.
“This is my last deployment, Tom. I’m too old for this kind of adventure.” Tom moved his hand to the man’s shoulder and looked him squarely in the eyes.
“Don’t go overboard just yet. Dinner tomorrow night, Captain’s Mess.” He curled his hand into a fist and lightly tapped Scott’s shoulder before he left.
~~~
Captain Jackson stood in the bow of the bridge and looked out at the icy planet below. The tundra poles, the snowy mountaintops, the stark white clouds, all representing the troubles and difficulty of finishing the mission in this system. "Chief Petty Officer?"
“All stations report ready for departure, Captain,” Watson said when Jackson turned away from the windows.
“Very well then. Lieutenant Lee, please take us out of orbit. Ensign Rougeau, plot a course to the Beta Hydri system.”
“Plotted and laid in, Captain.”
“Engage when ready. Best speed to Beta Hydri Four, or as my wife calls it, Kinnae.”
“Aye, sir,” Lee answered. Jackson looked once more at the planet and stepped out of the bay, dropping into his chair. The planet began to shrink slightly, then appeared to shrink almost exponentially when Lee engaged the ISS engines.
“Quixote,” Jackson called over the intercom. “What’s your status down there?”
“We have managed to all but perfect the formula, Captain, FTL two through ten, but do please engage incrementally beyond FTL 10 to the second power."
“Very well then. Lieutenant Lee, please take us out of orbit. Ensign Rougeau, plot a course to the Beta Hydri system.”
“Plotted and laid in, Captain.”
“Engage when ready. Best speed to Beta Hydri Four, or as my wife calls it, Kinnae.”
“Aye, sir,” Lee answered. Jackson looked once more at the planet and stepped out of the bay, dropping into his chair. The planet began to shrink slightly, then appeared to shrink almost exponentially when Lee engaged the ISS engines.
“Quixote,” Jackson called over the intercom. “What’s your status down there?”
“We have managed to all but perfect the formula, Captain, FTL two through ten, but do please engage incrementally beyond FTL 10 to the second power."
“I remember, thank you. Gentlemen, when we are ten AU’s from Eta Cassiopeia, engage to FTL Two and carry on. Watson, please send our customary transmission to Space Admin with my logs and ship status.”
“Aye, Captain.”
“I’ll be in the doyen’s office. Lieutenant; you’re at the con.”
Jackson could breathe easier in his private office than out on the bridge. He suspected his crew could as well. He tossed his hat on the table, took off his jacket and hung it over the back of a chair, then looked around the room. No coffee. It’s 07:06 and no coffee on the table. He didn’t ask for much but a carafe of black coffee and a generous supply of sugar accompanying it was not too much to expect.
“Galley,” answered a masculine voice.
“This is Captain Jackson. I’m coming down and I’d like a carafe of coffee ready for me to collect in five minutes.”
“Apologies, Captain, Ms. Wallace is on her way with it right now.” His doorbell chirped.
“Open,” he called, and as anticipated Anne Wallace tiptoed in with a tray of morning goodies, including the most important carafe of coffee.
“Sorry I’m late, Captain, everyone is adjusting to the new routine.” She set the whole thing on the center table. Jackson didn't hesitate to grab the carafe and pour some fragrant, black courage into his favorite cup.
“I’ve adjusted to the new routine just fine. We all have a job to do; I expect the coffee here before I arrive. It’s not a heavy burden by any stretch of the imagination.” He stopped abruptly. She was a civilian, all of 20 years old.
“It won’t happen again, sir.” He looked up from his coffee at the admiral’s daughter standing artificially stiff and declining any eye contact with him. She looked like she might burst into tears.
“You’re a civilian, Wallace. Be at ease.” She didn’t flinch but to shift her gaze to his hands from wherever it was before. “I apologize, Anne. This is what happens when I haven’t had my coffee.”
“Yes, sir. Can I get you anything else this morning?” Jackson felt a twinge of guilt for calling her out over his coffee addiction, but only a twinge.
“That’s all.” He turned to his data station and tapped a few icons to get started while the girl scampered out. He thought about putting Dr. Gregory in charge of personnel, but given his state of mind his heart wouldn’t be in it. The quartermaster had enough to do as it was. It befell to him but given the small crew he could manage it. His doorbell chirped again.
“Come.” He looked up. “Hello my Favorite Mission Specialist. Close the hatch. Who’s watching Zalara?”
“She and Honey are in the kitchen getting breakfast.” Rianya sat down and looked at the coffee. “How do you drink this toxin?” Tom joined her at the table and poured another cup.
“With something sweet,” he teased, poking her lightly, and put two scoops of sugar into it. “Wait, I know what you might like.” He dug around in a nearby drawer and pulled out some small containers. “I keep these here just for guests.” He opened them and let the contents melt in her cup. “These are cream cubes.” He stirred the elixir and presented it to her with a dramatic flair of his hand.
Rianya took the cup and sipped the tawny brew. Tom waited for her reaction. She took a second taste and looked up at him over the rim of her cup.
“I like it.”
“All this time you just needed a little something to soften its intensity.” She took another drink.
“Are we on our way?”
“As promised, on our way to Kinnae. We'll be there in about six weeks. Excited?”
“Terrified.” Now the intercom chirped. How many interruptions could he have in five minutes?
“Captain,” Adams said. “I would like to see you in sick bay, please. It’s important.”
“Can I finish my coffee first?”
“Of course, Jack. It’s about Commander Wiseman; he’s not going anywhere.”
“Oh, Rianya should come too?”
“No. Just you.” Tom looked at his wife sipping coffee for the first time; she’d heard Adams but didn’t react.
“We’re having coffee here right now, so when we’re done I’ll be down.” Tom shut off the intercom.
“I don’t want anything to do with that body anymore.”
“Dr. Adams knows that?” Rianya nodded and held her cup with both hands, taking a longer drink. Tom swigged the last of his morning ambition, donned his hat, and kissed Rianya on the head before he left for the sick bay.
It certainly was nice to have the ship running normally for a change, with a repaired shuttle and repaired doors, all the crew out of sick bay, wrapping up a difficult mission and enjoying some downtime before the next one started.
“Hello, Doc?”
“Jack, come here to my office; I want to talk.”
“Sounds serious.” Tom sat across from the doctor, the desk between them. He leaned toward Adams.
“This is a bit personal.”
“You’re not gonna tell me Rianya’s pregnant are you?”
“Why does your mind go there every time I call you down? I’ve been running some nucleotide sequences on Vaughn. Rianya started several before she took ill.”
“Okay, so he’s not all human, and apparently, he’s from the future but he came here from the past. At least that’s what we think, right? What else should I know?”
“Jack, it’s more than that. Rianya’s sequences focused on the human segments; she said he had more of those to work with. She said something about notifying his Earth ancestors.” Tom nodded, waiting for Adams to get to the point. “There are some sequences not in our information banks. There are some that are.”
“Doc, you’re stalling. What do you want to talk about?”
“I’ve been able to trace his human ancestry back a dozen generations. His last fully human ancestor was two generations ago. By isolating the Y chromosome DNA, I matched it to his mother. It’s the mitochondrial DNA that has most of the variety.”
“I don't know what you're getting at but it sounds interesting.” Tom shifted in the chair and drew a deep breath to support his patience.
“So, I was thinking Rianya had a good idea to trace his human family. They may want the body, although it’s a little confusing because he doesn’t exist in our time yet.” Tom’s mind began to wander. The chronometer showed 07:51. They’d be going to FTL to the second power soon. Adams stopped talking.
“Sorry, what was that, Doc?”
“Okay, this is kind of tricky. The data on the ship preserved his personnel file. He was born in 2340. Five reproductive generations back, averaging 36 years is about 2160, give or take fifteen years in both directions.” The doctor hesitated, squirmed a bit and started to pinch one of his ear lobes. Tom waited, looking in the old man’s pale blue eyes, steady under heavy white brows.
“So, about now. I’m with you.”
“Jack…Thomas…one of Wiseman’s ancestors…is Honey York.”
“Are you kidding me, Phil? I mean, that's extraordinary.”
“I’m not kidding. I’m dead serious.” Tom’s amusement ended abruptly. He leaned forward in his chair as if that might help him understand Adams’ face more clearly.
“That mummy is sure full of surprises.”
“It is. This is confidential information,” Adams said, squirming in his chair. Tom squinted at the man and caught himself drumming his fingers on the table.
“I like it.”
“All this time you just needed a little something to soften its intensity.” She took another drink.
“Are we on our way?”
“As promised, on our way to Kinnae. We'll be there in about six weeks. Excited?”
“Terrified.” Now the intercom chirped. How many interruptions could he have in five minutes?
“Captain,” Adams said. “I would like to see you in sick bay, please. It’s important.”
“Can I finish my coffee first?”
“Of course, Jack. It’s about Commander Wiseman; he’s not going anywhere.”
“Oh, Rianya should come too?”
“No. Just you.” Tom looked at his wife sipping coffee for the first time; she’d heard Adams but didn’t react.
“We’re having coffee here right now, so when we’re done I’ll be down.” Tom shut off the intercom.
“I don’t want anything to do with that body anymore.”
“Dr. Adams knows that?” Rianya nodded and held her cup with both hands, taking a longer drink. Tom swigged the last of his morning ambition, donned his hat, and kissed Rianya on the head before he left for the sick bay.
It certainly was nice to have the ship running normally for a change, with a repaired shuttle and repaired doors, all the crew out of sick bay, wrapping up a difficult mission and enjoying some downtime before the next one started.
“Hello, Doc?”
“Jack, come here to my office; I want to talk.”
“Sounds serious.” Tom sat across from the doctor, the desk between them. He leaned toward Adams.
“This is a bit personal.”
“You’re not gonna tell me Rianya’s pregnant are you?”
“Why does your mind go there every time I call you down? I’ve been running some nucleotide sequences on Vaughn. Rianya started several before she took ill.”
“Okay, so he’s not all human, and apparently, he’s from the future but he came here from the past. At least that’s what we think, right? What else should I know?”
“Jack, it’s more than that. Rianya’s sequences focused on the human segments; she said he had more of those to work with. She said something about notifying his Earth ancestors.” Tom nodded, waiting for Adams to get to the point. “There are some sequences not in our information banks. There are some that are.”
“Doc, you’re stalling. What do you want to talk about?”
“I’ve been able to trace his human ancestry back a dozen generations. His last fully human ancestor was two generations ago. By isolating the Y chromosome DNA, I matched it to his mother. It’s the mitochondrial DNA that has most of the variety.”
“I don't know what you're getting at but it sounds interesting.” Tom shifted in the chair and drew a deep breath to support his patience.
“So, I was thinking Rianya had a good idea to trace his human family. They may want the body, although it’s a little confusing because he doesn’t exist in our time yet.” Tom’s mind began to wander. The chronometer showed 07:51. They’d be going to FTL to the second power soon. Adams stopped talking.
“Sorry, what was that, Doc?”
“Okay, this is kind of tricky. The data on the ship preserved his personnel file. He was born in 2340. Five reproductive generations back, averaging 36 years is about 2160, give or take fifteen years in both directions.” The doctor hesitated, squirmed a bit and started to pinch one of his ear lobes. Tom waited, looking in the old man’s pale blue eyes, steady under heavy white brows.
“So, about now. I’m with you.”
“Jack…Thomas…one of Wiseman’s ancestors…is Honey York.”
“Are you kidding me, Phil? I mean, that's extraordinary.”
“I’m not kidding. I’m dead serious.” Tom’s amusement ended abruptly. He leaned forward in his chair as if that might help him understand Adams’ face more clearly.
“That mummy is sure full of surprises.”
“It is. This is confidential information,” Adams said, squirming in his chair. Tom squinted at the man and caught himself drumming his fingers on the table.
“Of course, I can keep it to myself.”
“I’m not necessarily talking about what I just told you. It’s what I’m about to tell you.” Tom’s stomach turned hard. Something bad was coming. He nodded, agreeing to keep the information confidential. Adams looked him straight in the eyes.
“I’m not necessarily talking about what I just told you. It’s what I’m about to tell you.” Tom’s stomach turned hard. Something bad was coming. He nodded, agreeing to keep the information confidential. Adams looked him straight in the eyes.
“Thomas, another one of Commander Wiseman’s ancestors is … is you.”
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