Did you ever wonder how Ross and McQueen first met? Here's my take on it; see what you think. My apologies to the military out there. My ignorance of proper military procedure is total; if I offend, it is absolutely unintentional.

My thanks to Rayhne for the idea that strict religious types might not approve of In Vitros.


Part Two

McQueen carefully scouted the area around Cassie's prison, checking out possible candidates among the sentries for his further attention. Most of the guards were stationed near the two doors of the building; Ross was correct, as usual, about their lack of sound military tactics. They were obviously expecting a frontal assault - so he would sneakily concentrate his search in other areas.

A sleepy, bored young man provided a most promising target; a little pressure on the carotid artery rendered him unconscious in a most satisfying manner. But no matter how long or how hard he looked, McQueen couldn't discover anyone else in the immediate vicinity. He found the oversight almost incomprehensible. Perhaps it was true - civilian thought processes were totally different from the military's. Windows weren't just sources of light and air; they also served as handy points of egress.

As he cautiously raised his entry of choice, he discovered a slight flaw in Ross' plan. It had been awhile since Cassie had seen him. What if she didn't remember who he was? What if she kicked up a fuss when he tried to remove her from the cabin? Would he be able to convince her - quietly - to come with him?

The minute he stuck his head inside, though, he realized that he had underestimated the young lady. A knife appeared at his throat almost before he could blink. "Cassie, it's me - McQueen. Do you want to fight or do you want to get out of here?"

The one factor McQueen hadn't taken into consideration was that he was not a person easily forgotten - especially when seen by an impressionable young girl. That voice was unmistakable. But Cassie was a true Thompson. She wasn't about to throw an hysterical fit or burst into tears of relief - not until they were all out of danger, at any rate. "Where's Uncle Glen?"

"Don't worry. Ross is creating a diversion. He'll meet up with us later. I'm not about to leave him behind." McQueen reached out a hand and pulled Cassie through the window. They made their way as quickly and as silently as they could through the darkness - towards that menacing jungle which hid their priceless ship.

A check on his watch showed that everything was going according to schedule. Ross should have plenty of time to slip away before Cassie's disappearance was discovered. In order to keep his mind off the alien presence he could once again sense, he reviewed what Ross had told him about his plane's loss of power. McQueen was worried that they might be caught by that mysterious radiation during their escape from the planet. He wished he knew more about the source and intensity of Glen's 'belching' magnetic field.

The Purists considered the planet's shipwrecking ability to be a major nuisance. They'd chosen a planet with little to recommend it in the hopes that that would keep the outside world at bay - and they certainly did not approve of uninvited guests. It would please them no end if they could figure out a way to stop the foreign invasion.

Ross had asked them if they'd noticed any other phenomenon occurring whenever a ship crashed. Were the two moons aligned in a particular way? Had any solar flares occurred? What about a massive electrical disturbance? The Purists had either been unable or unwilling to answer his questions. They only paid attention to the important things in life - their God, their land, and their families.

The solar flare theory was McQueen's personal favorite. The star in this system could emit an exceptionally strong burst of electrons that interacted with the planet's magnetic field - like an aurora borealis, only a million times stronger. A ship that chose that particular moment to fly in for a closer look was doomed. It made a good working hypothesis, one he could plan countermeasures against.

He told himself again that, no, they were not being watched and, that, no, the planet was not alive. Cassie had grown increasingly subdued as the minutes passed, and McQueen hesitated over whether or not to discuss her fears openly. Oh, hell - why not. "Cassie, what's wrong? Is the jungle starting to get on your nerves, too?"

The sigh that passed her lips sounded suspiciously like a sob. "Do you feel it, too? I keep remembering that old song - the night has a thousand eyes. What ... what do you suppose it is? They told me they hadn't seen any animals. No birds and not many insects. Mostly just trees."

That grasshopper mind of hers had already jumped to another problem. "Without insects for pollination, how do you suppose the trees reproduce themselves? Spores maybe, or even windblown seeds? I swear they're all related, anyway. They sure do look alike."

McQueen opened his mouth to say, "Maybe that's why the jungle feels so unfriendly. We're interrupting their orgies." Then he remembered the age group of the person he was talking to and shut his trap. She knew all about the birds and the bees in the abstract, but a discussion of the specifics might still embarrass he


In the meantime, life was still not playing fair with Ross. Instead of slipping quietly away with no fuss or bother, he'd managed to attract an entire posse on his trail. Cursing his bad karma, he hauled his butt up a tree and waited for the Purists to pass. He doubted they'd keep up the search for long. He'd noticed they never liked to spend much time in the jungle. And, though he'd never say it out loud, he didn't much care for the place, himself. That feeling of being watched - it was either paranoid delusions or an actual alien presence. He didn't know which possibility frightened him more.

The chase quickly degenerated into something out of an old Keystone Kops comedy. The pursued climbed out of his tree and stealthily followed the pursuers as they stumbled their way through the jungle. The noise they made in their floundering attempts to remain in contact offended his professional standards; not for the first time, Ross blessed his Navy SEAL training. Hunting down an unknown, never-before-seen rendezvous spot in hostile territory, surrounded by enemies, was child's play. Well, fond as he was of hide and seek, it was time for him to leave the others behind. Unless he'd totally lost his bearings, a 90 degree turn towards the west for 1.25 klicks would bring him to the rest of his party.

When Ross reached the LZ, he stopped short and stared upward in open-mouthed disbelief. Two full moons provided plenty of illumination to the scene above him. McQueen had said he'd landed the ship on a rocky outcrop; trust Ty to achieve the ultimate in understatement. It was one thing to land a plane on a carrier, aided by bright lights and electronic trackers. This was another story altogether - no margin for error on this landing; no metal surface to guide the sensors. This was seat-of-the-pants flying, with absolutely no computer assistance.

"How the hell did he ..." The ship strongly resembled a butterfly stuck on a pin. The top of the column of rock wasn't big enough to accommodate all of the vessel - a disquieting portion of which dangled in thin air. The surrounding trees leaned over the whole, as if discussing the strange creature in their midst. Ross took a quick tour around the outcrop, looking for the easiest way up.

Instead of a convenient elevator, his hand brushed against a rope dangling from the side of the ship. He looped it around him in a primitive climbing harness and hoped McQueen had anchored it securely. He still got cold chills whenever he thought about the last time - dragging himself over the top of the cliff to find that his trusty rope was simply wrapped around Ty's middle. It was all very well to claim to be stronger than most humans; Ross had still promised to skin him alive if he ever did such a thing again.

The grin on Ty's face when Ross reached the ship was proof that their minds had been marching in unison again. "Don't worry. I learned my lesson; the other end is tied to a nice strong support." Ross almost fell through the open doorway as Cassie threw herself at him with ecstatic abandon, but his answering hug nearly broke a few of her ribs. They weren't out of the woods yet - so to speak - but their chances were definitely improving.

Giving Cassie one last hug, Ross picked her up and secured her safely in one of the seats. "I strongly urge that we get the hell off this planet before something else goes wrong. Any notions on how to combat that radiation? I'd hate to crash into that clearing a second time. The last time I saw them, the local inhabitants seemed a trifle peeved."

"I think the best way to remain airborne is to find protection from possible solar flares. Hopefully, the planet will shield us from the worst of the effects, so we'll just keep it between us and the sun. Since we're already on the nighttime side, I propose we just cross our fingers and head on out into space."

Ross found no fault with this plan, so they both moved up to the cockpit and strapped themselves in. McQueen fired up the thrusters and unconsciously held his breath while the sleek little craft lifted slowly off its pedestal. Nothing untoward occurred to disturb their flight off planet - no glitches, no blips, no burps. Either Glen's run of bad luck had finally broken, or Ty's surprisingly good fortune served as a counterbalance. As it disappeared behind them, no one expressed an interest in ever seeing that cursed place again.

"Ty, I think we can make a good case for setting this area of space out of bounds - permanently. There's nothing here to attract settlers - or even Aerotech. The dangers far outweigh the advantages, and I don't propose sharing with anyone my impression that the jungle is alive. Nobody would believe me - especially those fact-loving, if-I-can't-measure-it-then-it-doesn't-exist geeks at Aerotech. At least we solved the mystery of the Nebulon Triangle - a potent combination of an erratic star and some privacy-loving colonists. Speaking of which ... we don't have any proof that the Purists murdered those other passengers. About all we could legally charge them with was destruction of government property. And they could claim that I'd done most of the damage to the plane myself. I'm inclined to leave them to their own devices; I just wonder if they'll ever win their fight against the jungle."

A huge yawn interrupted McQueen's response to Ross' plans; he hadn't gotten much sleep in the last few days, and the deprivation had finally caught up with him. Glen wasn't about to let him off the hook, though; gratitude shouldn't interfere with unfinished business. He had specifically stated that no rescue should be attempted if he ran into trouble. Ty's habit of sidestepping orders he didn't agree with needed to be nipped in the bud. Besides, the exhaustion clouding that normally cool and calculating brain might give him the vital edge in this argument - for once.

Ross still felt like an ungrateful idiot. How do you berate a man for saving your life? And keep a straight face while doing it? "Now that things have quieted down, you and I can have that little talk we had to postpone earlier. I know Jack told you I didn't want anyone coming after me. Why the hell did you do such a foolish thing?"

Ty's sleepiness was effectively counteracted by a well-timed adrenaline surge. Calling upon all of his powers of duplicity and chicanery, he responded with a slight alteration of the truth. "Sir, I didn't come out here to rescue you. The Admiral requested that I testpilot his new runabout. You know he trusts my abilities ... values my judgment. Sheer chance brought me to this area; I simply dropped in for a closer inspection."

This piece of sophistry earned Ty one of Glen's famous 'looks.' He was as adept as McQueen at communicating without words, and his skepticism at this explanation was writ large on his face. Ross also found it illuminating that Ty was unable to look him in the eye while he spouted his nonsense. Interesting.

Since he was a charitable man, Ross decided not to pursue this line of questioning any further. No telling what other poppycock Ty would come up with. Instead, he turned to one aspect that had him truly puzzled. When had Ty become omniscient? "How did you find me so quickly, so easily?"

McQueen debated with himself about claiming psychic powers, but he knew Ross would have an even tougher time swallowing that one. So he made a clean breast of it and told Glen about the homing beacon. As he had foretold, Ross thought the whole thing hilarious. "Shh - you'll wake Cassie."

Ross knew perfectly well that most of his hilarity had been generated by relief at being rescued. But he welcomed the ache caused by side-splitting laughter; it had been a long time since he'd even felt like smiling - let alone rolling on the floor laughing. God Bless McQueen.

However, there were still aspects of this mission that he needed to reflect on, so he told McQueen to get some sleep. He would take the first watch. Ross needed some time alone to sort through his emotions and come to some conclusions.

Why had McQueen come after him? Was it simply gratitude for past favors? A sense of obligation? Surely even an exaggerated sense of duty wouldn't drag a man halfway across the galaxy on an iffy mission with a damned poor chance for success.

More to the point, Ross had to acknowledge that he'd known all along that Ty would come. That subconscious belief had brought him comfort and held at bay some of his darkest fears during his captivity. But why had he been so certain? They were friends, yes - comrades-in-arms who had shared danger and laughter and pain. However, this surely fell under the category of above and beyond.

He knew why he'd come looking for Cassie; he loved that little girl like she was his own. That poor word 'love' - burdened with such a lot of baggage. People only felt comfortable using it to describe a parent's feeling for their child or the passion between consenting adults. He'd grown up in a house full of sisters, and he'd always wondered what it would be like to have a brother. Ross suddenly realized that he'd stopped thinking about that a long time ago - shortly after he met McQueen. Apparently blood ties weren't an essential part of the process; brotherhood was a state of mind as well as heart.

Ty had a definite problem when it came to expressing any of his emotions - besides anger, of course. He belonged to the school of thought where actions spoke louder than words. And his recent actions spoke loudly indeed. Ross decided that hell would probably freeze over before he'd ever get a coherent reason out of McQueen for this crazy stunt. He'd just better accept the fact that this friendship would require a great deal of mind-reading on his part.

And he'd better snap out of this sappy mood, or he'd soon start blubbering. The time would be better spent trying to find the right words to say to his wife the next time he saw her. Ouch - that had effectively destroyed his warm and fuzzy frame of mind.

How could he convince her that he'd done the right and proper thing? This was not the case of some glory hound trying to make an indelible mark in the history books. It hadn't been a suicide mission; he'd fully intended coming back. But if he hadn't made an attempt to look for his goddaughter, he wouldn't have been able to live with himself. And although she loved Cassie just as much as he did, he had a feeling that tap dancing his way through a minefield would be easier than talking his way out of this one.

There was no hope for it; he'd better just stand up straight and take the punishment meted out. Maybe she'd be so relieved to see him that she'd forget to yell at him for going in the first place. And maybe pigs could fly. Nope, no matter how you stacked it up, he was going to be in big trouble when he got home. Home ... such a beautiful word. He looked over at the sleeping figure of his friend and whispered, "Thanks, Ty."

The End


Previous : Part One

Paula Higgins
© 1996