Part V
February 25th, 2001
SENIOR YEAR
Eric was the first to see the mountain lion. It was crouching, just to the side of the trail, with its head perched over its front paws. It's hind quarters were twitching just a little, and, right away, Eric knew that this was a hungry female cat, ready to rock 'n roll at any cost. Without losing eye contact, he held up his right arm, holding his walking stick firmly, and motioned to the other cadets behind him to stop. The mountain lion was, perhaps, ten meters away.
"Listen up, men!" Eric shouted. "We've got a mountain lion here on the trail. I want everyone to spread out. Move real slow and form a line across the trail. Harper. Just you. Turn around and watch our rear." As the cadets moved slowly to form a line perpendicular to the trail, he could see fear in some of their eyes. "Now look at me! There are too many of us here for that cat to get frisky. Don't be afraid, don't panic. Most of all, don't run. Listen to me! Start banging your walking sticks together. Make noise. Yell. Spread out your chest and look big!"
Eric pulled a signal mirror out of his pocket and started to manipulate it. In a few seconds, he had an image of the sun on the ground. Then he started to move the image towards the cat, a cat that was holding its ground. He figured the noise, the bright light, and the overwhelming numbers would convince the cat that this was a fight not worth fighting. But he knew they'd have to approach and threaten the cat to make it bolt. He motioned to his squad to follow him, slowly, and continue banging their sticks. Just as he was bringing the brilliant light onto the cat's face, he heard a shout behind him.
"Tyler! No!" screamed one of the cadets as Grant Tyler started running towards the trees. A second cadet, panicking, quickly followed right behind Tyler, running as fast as he could.
The cat sprang.
Eric knew exactly what was going to happen, so he raced forward, trying to intercept the cat, but he couldn't catch up. The mountain lion disappeared, with large graceful bounds, into the trees. Seconds later, Eric heard a scream.
As Eric came running into a small clearing, he saw that the animal was on top of cadet Miller. The young man was fighting a losing battle with his forearms against the powerful cat. Eric raised his hefty walking stick and brought it down on the lion's head as hard as he could. The cat jumped quickly sideways, kicked up dirt as its rear claws dug in, and squared off against him. Eric moved his stick to his left hand, pulled out his hunting knife and moved forward to protect the cadet on the ground. He crouched into a Karate horse stance, and made barking sounds.
Then the rocks came flying out of nowhere, pummeling the lion, Eric turned to see the other four cadets approaching rapidly, each with a handful to rocks, hurling them as hard as they could. After four serious, direct hits, the lion turned in an instant and bounded away.
Eric immediately crouched over cadet Miller who was moaning and bleeding badly from his arms and head. He touched the communicator on his collar. "Nine-one-one! This is cadet Eric MacDonald. We have an injured cadet at my coordinates. Mountain lion attack, Bleeding badly. Request immediate chopper pickup." Cadet Harper quickly produced a stick, knelt down, and tore off this shirt to form a tourniquet for the downed cadet's arm.
As the group huddled around cadet Miller, supporting his head, working on stopping the bleeding, cadet Grant Tyler came strolling into the clearing. "Hey, guys! What's happening?"
Major Forney was outraged. He paced back and forth in front of Eric with his hands behind his back. Eric, stiff at attention, could see fire in the Major's eyes. Finally, the Major stopped pacing, walked right up to Eric, and stood, virtually nose to nose. "Cadet MacDonald. You have really screwed up."
"I know, sir."
"You know? You don't know shit."
Eric remained rigidly at attention. The Major continued. "We have a seriously injured cadet, thanks to you. I don't like that. I don't like parents screaming at my boss on the phone. I don't like the commandant quizzing me. I don't like the press barking up my ass."
"Yes sir."
"I am holding you directly responsible for this. There's going to be an inquiry, a cadet court martial. You are in serious trouble, MacDonald."
"But, sir. It wasn't my fault."
"That's not what I said, cadet. Of course it wasn't your fault. But you are responsible. The safety of all cadets under your supervision is your responsibility. Do I need to remind you of that?"
"No, sir."
"You are dismissed." Major Forney stepped back and glared at Eric. "Get out of here."
Eric sat at a table by himself in the dining hall. As a senior, he no longer had to march to meals and could come and go as he pleased. He sat at his favorite table in a darker corner of the hall and poked at his food. Eric was always early for dinner and often managed to leave before the place filled up. But on this night, he was depressed and lingered with his meal.
"This seat taken?" Eric looked up to see two male cadets, also senior class, unfamiliar to him.
"Nope. Help yourself."
The two cadets sat down and started chatting with each other. One was a big, healthy fellow with an Alabama accent. The other was much shorter and thinner. After a few minutes, as Eric was finishing his pie, the larger cadet began to stare at Eric's uniform and started making a fuss. "Well, how 'bout that?"
Eric looked up to see the cadet pointing at his chest. "What's so interesting?" Eric asked absently.
"If I'm not mistaken, that's an Air Force Medal of Honor. My uncle had one of those."
"That's what it is," Eric said has he finished his milk and wiped his mouth on a napkin.
"There ain't no way you coulda earned that medal," the young man from Alabama sneered. The smaller cadet started laughing. "Looks like you bought the wrong medal, mister. Better take it back."
Eric looked at the two cadets for a long second. "I earned this medal on active duty. On the starship Lovell."
"Yeah, right," the smaller cadet said. "And I'm Captain James T. Kirk."
"I won't argue with you. Look it up," Eric said firmly as he stood up.
"He's a damn liar," the larger cadet said. "The Lovell was lost in combat two years ago. You were just a scrawny little sophomore here, cleaning toilets and marching to chow."
"Stick it," Eric said and picked up his tray.
Both the other cadets stood up smartly and moved to block Eric's exit. The larger of the two poked his finger into Eric's chest. "Why don't you give me that medal right now. Jus' for safe keepin'. My uncle might want an extra one, for his ... dog ... you see." He leered at Eric in a menacing way. Clearly, he had ten or fifteen kilos advantage over Eric.
From under his tray, Eric reached up and grabbed the other cadet's extended forefinger and bent it sharply backwards as he stepped quickly around him. As he passed, he shoved the tray forward and let it drop to the floor. Plates and a glass shattered loudly, drowning out the other cadet's scream. Eric, now on the other side of the big man backed up and hastily apologized.
"Oops! Excuse me, gentlemen I've been in such a rush all day. Tell you what. I'm late for an evening class. Would mind cleaning that up for me? I really have to hurry. I'll owe you. Gotta run!"
The next morning, very early, Eric was summoned to Major Forney's office. As he entered the administrative building, removed his cap, and walked up the marble steps, Eric pondered whether the cadet at dinner had filed some kind of charge and whether Major Forney was going to declare his tenure at the Academy over. His mind was swimming with lingering visions of four years in Biloxi as an airman basic teaching robots how to peel potatoes.
He knocked sharply on Major Forney's door and waited. "Enter!" Major Forney was sitting at his desk, reviewing what looked like Eric's personnel data on his vid-pad. Eric walked in briskly and stood at attention.
"Cadet MacDonald, reporting as ordered, sir."
"At ease, cadet." The Major looked up at Eric. "I have been reviewing your records in preparation for the inquiry." Eric braced himself for the worst. "I find that your grades and fitness reports have been exceptional. I see here that you are now a Nimbus instructor pilot and that you've earned a first degree black belt in Kenpo Karate. Is that right?"
"Yes sir."
"And your GPA is 3.95. Is that also correct?"
"Yes it is, sir."
"That's excellent work." The Major cleared his throat. "Well, you will be happy to hear that all charges in the pending inquiry have been dropped."
Eric was both stunned and elated. "May I ask why sir?"
The Major tapped his fingernails on the desk in frustration. "Normally, I would say you don't need to know that." He stood up. "But just between you and me?"
"Of course, sir."
"Cadet Tyler's father is an Air Force General in Space Command. He wasn't really all that thrilled with the prospect of a hearing that would, shall we say, showcase the behavior of his son. So he asked that all charges in this matter be dropped."
"I understand sir."
"Consider yourself very lucky. Obviously, there will be no need for you to discuss the details of the incident with your fellow cadets. Understood?"
"Yes sir."
"Case closed. Now. I have another document here that you might be interested in. It's from the Commander of the Holloman Air Force Base flight school. You have been accepted there to start in July."
Eric smiled. "That's great news sir. I am honored."
The Major came around from his desk and held his hand out. "Congratulations, son ... cadet." They shook hands vigorously. "You earned it. That will be all."
As Eric turned to walk out, the Major hailed him. "Oh, and one more thing MacDonald. You handled yourself well in the dining hall last night."
Eric could hardly contain his laughter as he left the Major's office.
Fluffy white cumulus clouds drifted lazily across a clear blue sky. It was a warm, spring Saturday afternoon in late April, 2049 as Chandler and Eric sat outside, under an umbrella, eating lunch at Cherry Creek Mall in Denver. Eric sat back and peeked around the umbrella top. The warm, brilliant sun felt good. He closed his eyes and soaked up the warmth as it burned into his face and arms. After a few seconds, he ducked back under the umbrella, opened his eyes, and watched the passersby, shoppers and students, on their Kamen scooters.
Chandler was wearing white shorts and a very tight red shirt that was driving Eric to distraction. He leaned forward and sipped on his iced tea.
"So how is medical school?" he asked.
"So far, so good. I'm enjoying it," she said. "I just wish we could see each other more often."
"I know, I know. Me too." Eric took another sip of his tea. "Anyway, I have some news. I was in a war status briefing yesterday. After two years, the Earth Forces are going to stand down."
"Why?"
"I appears that the extraterrestrials, or whoever they are, only want to engage us in the Kuiper belt, always at 30 to 40 astronomical units. Not here. No one knows why."
Chandler leaned forward and spoke quietly. "It seems they have no interest in war. Just keeping us from exploring nearby stars?"
"That's what the brass is thinking."
"So what are we going to do?"
"When the Haise returned, they reported on some new enemy weapons they encountered as well as some observed weaknesses in strategy and maneuvering. We have chosen not to send any more starships out to engage them until we've studied the situation and built a completely different kind of starship."
"Like what?"
"I'm not sure about the details. But the Lovell and Haise, even though moderately armed, were originally designed for exploration, not all out battle. I hear they're working on some new designs that should kick ass. And, as long as those critters are going to just sit out there, we're going to take our time preparing for the next engagement."
"Amazing."
Eric sat back in his chair and took a deep breath. "I have some other news. I'm not ... quite ... sure ... how to tell you."
"Hey, just blurt it out. That's what I always do!"
As Eric looked at Chandler's long reddish brown hair, gently blowing around her face and shimmering in the sun, he suddenly felt a swelling in his throat. He blinked and tried to talk, but nothing happened.
"Out with it," Chandler said as she furrowed her eyebrows and put her slender, tanned arm on the table, reaching for Eric's hand.
"After I graduate, I'll be assigned to Holloman Air Force Base in July. Flight school. One year. It'll be pretty intense."
Chandler sighed deeply. "That's in southern New Mexico, right?"
"Yep."
"What are you trying to tell me?"
"I'm saying ... I think it's going to be pretty hard for us to keep seeing each other."
"Are you saying you want to postpone the wedding?" Chandler squeezed Eric's hand.
Eric couldn't bear to look at her. He dropped his head and mumbled. "Yes. That's what I'm saying. It's not like the Air Force is going to reassign you down there for our convenience."
Chandler started to speak, but found herself choking back tears. She sipped her drink and took a deep breath. In a few more seconds, she had her thoughts composed. "So I guess I'll just continue on here, and you'll go to New Mexico. And we'll see how it goes, huh?"
Eric watched a tear work its way down Chandler's cheek. "Yeah. We'll see how it goes." As he lifted up her arm and kissed her hand, Eric MacDonald realized, with sudden sharp pain and an aching realization, that he had promises to keep.
Copyright 2001 by John
Martellaro, All rights reserved. Quantum Threads banner
artwork by Tracy Haynes.
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