The Search Page 3

  A couple of minutes passed before the controller's voice came over the comm. "Blackhawk, report.”

  "Blackhawk reporting in 16-L,” Eaton reported back. He could easily imagine the consternation going on in the control center.

  "Bay control has not reported your arrival. Confirm your position."

  "Blackhawk reporting in 16-L,” Eaton calmly replied while watching people scurry up in the docking bay control booth. "I arrived five minutes ago."

  He reached up and disengaged the Optiveil device. As the Blackhawk became both visible and detectable, Eaton enjoyed the reaction to the sudden appearance of his ship.

  "Acknowledged and confirmed, Blackhawk,” the controller finally said. "Nice work. Report for debriefing."

  "Acknowledged,” Eaton said with a grin.

  As he unstrapped from his control chair, Eaton decided maybe this new gizmo might be more fun than he first thought.

  ∞∞∞

  Yohan looked up at the ceiling of his motel room. Sleep eluded him again. It was already well past midnight but he couldn't get his mind off of thoughts of home. He had adapted to life on this planet but his old yearnings had never been stilled.

  Originally, his team was assigned to sweep through the different societies on this backwater planet and evaluate whether or not the inhabitants were making progress toward an eventual change in the planet's status. A planet was usually opened only after achieving sustained space flight. In some cases where the society could accept the changes that accompanied discovery of the Axia by their explorers, the Watcher service had to reconsider their approach.

  Now the Axia deemed it wiser to closely monitor a society well before it reached the point of sustained space travel. Helping a planet mature faster with little nudges was also becoming standard practice.

  Yohan enjoyed being part of an advance evaluation team. He was especially thankful for the support of his wife since his assignments often entail months of separation. Months of intense training followed his acceptance of this assignment during which he learned their crude languages and studied their cultures.

  The awaited day finally arrived when the team had been secreted onto the planet and took up their reporting. Yohan found the multi-cultural society he was studying both intriguing and at the same time repulsive. How the natives could survive and even prosper with such cultural restrains was beyond him.

  All too soon his time on the surface ended and he made his way to his assigned pick-up point. He was looking forward to getting back among civilized people. He was also anxious to seeing his family again on Erdinata.

  He remembered the shock of seeing the shuttle sent to transport him off of this backward planet suddenly attacked as it came in to the pick-up point. The shuttle pilot abandoned his landing approach and desperately tried to escape the attacking fighter planes. Yohan watched in horror as several missiles hit the shuttle, causing severe damage through its weakening repulsion field.

  The shuttle was out of sight over a hill when he heard the impact explosion. Military aircraft of nearly every description descended on the crash site. The surrounding countryside lit up bright as day when subsequent explosions rocked the area.

  Yohan couldn’t be sure if the explosions were caused by the failure of the shuttle’s internal systems, or if the barbaric pilots had launched more missiles at the downed spacecraft. He heard the sound of rapidly firing weapons. He knew it was time to abandon his position and await further instructions.

  Using his original cover story as a visiting linguistics professor, Yohan buried himself deeper into this alien culture. He feared discovery by their military or covert governmental agencies, so he disposed of any evidence that he was an Axia citizen. Thanks in part to the cumbersome bureaucracy of the educational system, he was able to remain undetected while he fleshed out his original cover identity.

  Since Yohan had linguistic skills, it seemed quite natural to pass himself off as a visiting language professor when he first landed on Sol-3. Everyone accepted his bogus identity papers and didn't bat an eye at his obvious accent. So Trooper-First John Eagleman ceased to exist and Yohan Nashar, language and mechanical linguistics professor, became a bona fide reality.

  It was during the process of creating a false past that would bear scrutiny that Yohan ran across the details of the shuttle crash. All aboard had apparently perished in the explosion. Their bodies, along with the remains of the shuttle, were taken away to some secret military installation in the southwestern section of the country. After that, he didn't hear any more news about the incident other than the fanciful fiction portrayed in supermarket tabloids.

  Yohan continued to play the part of a visiting language professor while he waited rescue. The university that he had originally been visiting was glad to have him become part of their language department. By a strange twist of fate, he found himself on a research team trying to develop a universal language with which they hoped to communicate with alien space cultures.

  During the intervening years, Yohan's thoughts rarely left the dream of returning to the Axia. He tried several times to signal the Watcher ships he hoped were still observing this backward planet. Unfortunately, his cover now proved to be a hindrance. Try as he might, he couldn't gain access to the equipment he needed to build a signaling device that could alert a Watcher ship. He was also unaware that the Watcher service had listed him and the rest of the Watcher team killed in action and had temporarily abandoned service over Sol-3 after the barbaric attack on the shuttlecraft.

  After a couple of years, he realized he was on his own. The emotional blow that came with this realization was almost more than he could bear. Lost to him now was the life he had always known. Also lost were his beautiful wife and the two young boys that brought him so much pride. How many years on Erdinata had passed since he’d left home? He tried to remember how old his boys, Delmar and Dorn would be now. What kind of men had they become? He wondered if his absence had been a negative impact on their lives. Was being a Watcher on closed planets really worth the sacrifices required of a service member?

  All Yohan could do now was wait and hope to be able to contact any Watcher personnel that might be working on the planet. He knew it was a long shot but it was the only viable hope he had of returning to Erdinata and the home he so sorely missed.

  Rolling out of bed, he pulled his robe around him and opened the motel door, stepping out onto the walkway. The night sky was ablaze with millions of stars spread across the Milky Way galaxy. A single tear rolled down his cheek as a feeling of extreme loneliness filled his heart, a realization that he may never get back home.

  Chapter Three

  The first thing Delmar saw when he opened his eyes was the ceiling of a hospital room. Unsure of what might be wrong with him, he wisely avoided moving. However, it did not prevent him from groaning.

  "What have I gotten myself into now?" he asked of no one in particular. The face of an older man appeared. Judging by his clothing, he was a doctor.

  "Do you mean specifically or generally?"

  "First, I want to know what I'm doing here.”

  "I'll tell you, but only after you try sitting up.”

  Delmar hesitated.

  "Come on, son, you can do it."

  Delmar slowly pushed himself up on the bed.

  "It's just that I've been waking up in hospitals and doctor’s offices lately, and usually after hitting my head on something."

  "I understand,” the doctor agreed, watching his patient. "Your records indicate that you've been testing the hardness of your cranium a bit too much."

  "So what brought me here this time?" Delmar asked. "And where is here and who are you?"

  "You are in the general ward section of the Jasper Station hospital,” the doctor said. "And I am Doctor Alt. As to what brought you here, the best answer I have is that you did."

  "What do you mean, I did?" Delmar asked. "The last thing I remember is flying my ship on approach to Erdinata. Waldon and I had just
been cleared by Approach Control."

  "Apparently you passed out right after that. Your friend used his ship to push your out-of-control vessel back into space where a retrieval ship disabled the drive and reeled you in. Shortly after they landed, you were brought here. That was yesterday."

  "Whew!" Delmar said. "Bet I'm in hot water for this one. First my ship malfunctions, and now its captain."

  "The only two people you're in trouble with right now are your friend and me,” the Doctor said.

  "What did I do to him?"

  "I'll let you find that out for yourself,” the Doctor answered as he headed for the door. "I'll go get him."

  While the Doctor was gone, Delmar tentatively tested all of his limbs and found them functioning normally. A moment after he finished, Waldon strode through the door, followed by Doctor Alt.

  "Got yourself a nice comfy little room here, huh flyboy?” Waldon said, looking around. He grabbed a chair and sat down next to Delmar's bed. The Doctor stood by the foot of the bed and watched his patient.

  "Glad you like it,” Delmar said. "And from what I've been told, I owe you some thanks."

  "You owe me more than that. You owe me for a new paint job. Scratched up my pretty Flash saving your scruffy hide."

  "Oh,” was all Delmar could think of to say. "What happened?"

  "You passed out like some ninny,” Waldon answered. "Then you jerked around like a circus monkey and threw your ship into a power dive for the surface. I used Flash to protect your hull where your repulsion field failed, and then forced that bucket of bolts back into space. Just the usual hero, save your bacon kind of stuff."

  "Sorry about that,” Delmar said. "And thanks for saving my skin. I'll see what I can do about getting the Flash repaired."

  "Don't worry about it,” Waldon said with a wave of his hand. "The repair chief that's supervising your refit said they'd take care of it."

  "So, Doctor Alt. What caused all this?"

  "In a word, stress,” Doctor Alt answered. "You've pushed yourself too hard after your adventures on Panay. Now you're paying for it."

  "Is there anything physically wrong?" Delmar asked. "I mean, I did pass out."

  "Nothing we can find.”

  "So when do I report for duty?" Delmar asked. He imagined what the liaison officer would have to say about all this.

  "You don't,” Doctor Alt answered. "As of this moment, I'm putting you on medical leave for the next month. After that, I want you back here for tests."

  "Are there any restrictions I should know about?" Delmar asked hesitantly.

  "Only that it should be fun and relaxing. It doesn’t look like you’ll be doing much flying anytime soon,” the doctor said. "The repair shop said your ship is in good hands, so don't worry about it. He promised they'll get to the bottom of all the problems."

  "That's good to hear,” interjected Waldon as pushed up out of his chair. "And I'd like to stay longer and chat, but I have other helpless maidens in distress to rescue and worlds to conquer. Besides, I have to report to the liaison office for my new assignment."

  “Thanks for everything,” Delmar said "Let me know where they send you. Maybe I can save your cookies some time."

  "I'll do that,” Waldon said and headed for the door. "Right now I just want to get out of this hospital and back into space where I belong. Sick people make me nervous."

  Delmar and the doctor watched the Trooper head out the door, his long strides echoing down the hospital corridor.

  "You've got quite a friend there,” Doctor Alt commented after the sound of Waldon's steps faded.

  "He’s a total nutcase!” Delmar answered. "But he’s my friend. And I never realized how much of a friend until just recently."

  "That's the way it usually is with true friendship.”

  "So when can I check out of here?"

  "After I run a short series of tests and see that you eat a decent meal,” the doctor answered. "If everything goes smoothly, you should be out of here sometime after lunch."

  ∞∞∞

  With a final tug on his wrench, Robert Hassel tightened the last bolt on the new barn door hinge.

  “Got it,” he called to his wife, Agnes.

  Agnes released the emergency brake, threw the tractor into gear, and moved it forward a few feet. The cable running from its front up through the block and tackle and down to the new door went slack. Robert climbed down from his perch on the ladder and released the rope tied between the tractor and the block and tackle. As soon as it was clear, Agnes backed the rig away while Robert climbed back up and cleared all the rigging from the new barn door. He heard her park the tractor and shut it down.

  "How's it look?" she hollered up at him.

  "Try it for yourself.”

  Robert climbed back down and moved the ladder. Agnes gave the new sliding barn door a gentle push. It slid silently along its new roller track until it was stopped by the bumper at the end.

  "Sure is a lot quieter than the old one,” Robert said with a grin.

  "And easier for an old man to open,” Agnes added with a grin. "Now you get this mess cleaned up. I'm going up front to get the mail and then make some lunch."

  "Yes ma'am,” Robert said, throwing her a mock salute. Agnes took a swipe at him and then started walking up their driveway toward the mailbox.

  While he gathered his tools, Robert happily watched his wife walk away. There had been such a tremendous change for the better after they learned Delmar had not been killed when the mothership he was on had been destroyed in a Red-tail attack. Instead of being killed, he’d been stranded on a planet called Panay, a pre-industrial world on the far edge of the Sector 2046-W patrol grid. But those months in between had nearly scared him to death.

  After the initial report of Delmar's demise, Agnes had begun to waste away. She lost nearly all interest in life. Fortunately, the report had been proven false thanks to Delmar’s friends Stan Shane, Leatha Mordon, and Ert the Horicon computer. A school girl named Melissa had also been involved. The reunion after Delmar’s recovery was perhaps the brightest day in many years for the Hassels.

  The wedding of Stan and Leatha a few weeks later only added to their happiness. Agnes started to improve almost immediately. If it were possible, Robert thought his wife now looked years younger. A yell from Agnes standing on the back porch of the farmhouse interrupted his thoughts.

  "Are you coming in for lunch or not?"

  "Hang on, woman,” Robert hollered back. "I'll be right there." Agnes harrumphed and headed back inside.

  Agnes watched from her kitchen window facing the barn while her beloved husband finish cleaning up and started for the house. With a critical eye, she paid particular attention to Robert's gait when he walked the last few yards up the path.

  Although he had recovered from the attack by thugs some time back, she still worried. She noted he still favored his injured leg and decided that he should rest after lunch whether he liked it or not. She could drive the tractor herself when it came time to return it the Daren and RoseMary Sabeti down the road.

  Robert came stomping through the back door and started washing at the slop sink in the utility room. Agnes placed the last of lunch on the table. While she poured their drinks, Robert came in and took his seat. Propped up against his glass was a letter from Delmar.

  "You didn't tell me about this!"

  "You didn't ask. Now pray so we can eat."

  They bowed their heads while Robert asked the blessing of the Unseen One on their food. When he finished, Agnes served while Robert reached for the letter.

  "Wait until you've had lunch.”

  Robert reluctantly set the letter back against his glass and took his plate. He and Agnes sat silently at the table. There was no need for words. He loved her, and he knew she loved him unconditionally.

  "Is that enough now?" Robert asked his wife after taking a final bite. A look at her face told him she was satisfied.

  He removed two sheets of paper from the enve
lope and looked at the tight scribble of Delmar’s handwriting. It always amazed him that the boy would rather correspond this way, even between planets, which could take a couple of months than by starmail which was almost instantaneous.

  Dear Mom and Dad,

  Thought I'd take a moment to write a few lines to let you know I’m ok and doing well, at least physically. I still have a few memory gaps from time to time, but the doctors say that will pass once I get back into my regular routine.

  I'm still experiencing trouble with the Patch in both the navigation system and the repulsion field. I thought they got everything fixed when they rebuilt her on Theta but the damage caused by the explosion of the mothership was more extensive than the repair chief first thought. There’s internal damage no one could see until they got her torn down, and even then they didn’t find everything. So now it’s up to me to take her on short missions, courier runs mostly, document any problems, and then report them when I get back on station. It’s a real hassle. No pun intended.

  For the time being, I'm restricted to local flights only. I feel like a milkman just running these short shuttle trips between planets. The repair crew has also run into problems with the comm system, and now the food synthesizer is acting up! Will it ever end? I'm afraid I'll be stuck out here for some time while they try to figure everything out. If it gets really bad, I might have to fly a desk for a while. Yuck!

  Enough of my complaining. Have you heard from Stan and Leatha lately? I’ve only received one starmail from them in the last month. They’re off running around the galaxy, living it up on their honeymoon while I’m pushing paper. Sure makes me miss Abby back on Panay. Oh well. Maybe I’ll get back there some day.

  I do hope you are both well. I know you had it rough when I was stranded on Panay. I apologize for the hardship I caused. I miss you very much and will try to write more often. I am considering doing some correspondence courses to keep from climbing the walls. A starmail from Jake and Sherry started the idea rattling around in my head. I'm open to suggestions.