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The hum of the atmospheric pumps signaled that the landing bay was secure and
pressurizing. The communications officers came over the com:
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to the medical vessel, Nightingale, 'Flo' to
her friends. We will unload in a few mikes." Kylen realized that she was
still holding the notebook and pen, remembered why she had wanted it, and
began to write furiously.
The familiar sounds and the unfamiliar phrases pushed a button in McQueen's
foggy brain. He changed gears. The loading bays on the Nightingale weren't
combat bays and would take longer to reach pressure but there still was not
much time.
McQueen knew what was coming for the survivors. It would be different for
them than it had been for him. They were civilians. It would be gentler but
every bit as insistent. He had been 'debriefed' after his release as a POW
and it had been no day at the beach. They weren't going home yet and they
were totally clueless. They had NO idea.
His own experience as a POW had changed him. Profoundly. But the aftermath
had been equally crushing.
They had called it debriefing but it was
interrogation. Browbeating. My own people - the Corps - had treated me with
such condescension. I had to justify everything that I had done and said.
My own people had demeaned and belittled my efforts. The only thing that had
prevented me from knocking heads - saved me from another three months in
solitary was the fact that the Natural Borns got the same treatment - almost
- more or less.
Though McQueen didn't realize it, the implied and
inferred disgrace had inadvertently brought him into a new understanding - a
new lifestyle. No one had or would ever use those tones with him again. He
would never again allow himself to be treated in such a manner.
But even worse than the atmosphere of his "debriefing" were the memories that
he had been forced to face. It was a bad business all the way around. It had
been weeks before he had begun to feel useful and whole again.
Aerotech will have its hands all over this operation. Their head has just
been cut off and they will be jockeying for power. They have to cover this
up. The other mouths on this multi-headed monster are going to be snapping
and fighting with each other. And they will be willing grind the bones of
the colonists to season the stew. Without a second thought. No compunction.
No reserve.
Kylen; he felt responsible for her on some level. He understood why but he
had recently been blown to hell and didn't have the energy to deal with an
FNK cheerleader. If it had been anyone else McQueen would have ignored her.
He was too cut up and broken to care and needed to husband his own resources.
As deeply as he wanted her out of his life, to have all of these people,
gone; he was unable to relax and let go. The Wildcards had given him their
faith and they had thrown down to save these people; to save Kylen. There
was one thing that he could do for them; for her. One thing that he knew he
could tell her.
McQueen turned towards her. There was a lot to say and too little time.
"Kylen,… Kylen." She nodded but kept writing.
Damn, but I do not like to deal with civilians!
"Put it away, Kylen, they will confiscate everything you've written."
"But it's not for me. It's for y......" She was still writing but her head
snapped in his direction as what he said sunk in. The change in him was
remarkable. It gave her a jolt. His eyes were still glassy behind the meds
but they looked at her fiercely. His face had hardened. One door of his
mind had closed and another one had opened and behind door number two the
'Colonel' was swimming to the surface.
He had her attention. Good, but how fast does she learn? McQueen knew
that his energy was limited.
"They will debrief you." She nodded agreement
as if to say she understood. She didn't.
Enunciating every syllable he whispered harshly: "Kylen, they will
in-ter-ro-gate you."
She felt bile rise to the back of her throat. He kept going: "Aerotech will
be there - tell them as little as you can get away with" He paused waiting
for a sign from her. She nodded. He waited, giving her the eye like an angry
parent.
"Yes, sir," she whispered.
"The 'Spooks' have their own agenda. "he continued. "They will press you.
They will know if you lie. Think before you speak and DO NOT trust them."
Her mind raced. She asked herself, Who the hell are the Spooks? What is
he trying to say?, but she responded, "Yes Sir."
He saw the question in her eyes but there wasn't time to explain. "You're
smart enough, you'll know them when you see them. Now, there will be Naval
or Marine intelligence. Try to get alone with them and if you can, Kylen,
you tell them everything. Think hard, you DO have important information.
Try to remember details and you tell them everything. EVERYTHING.
Understand?"
"I understand, Sir." But there was a lot that she didn't understand. There
was something coming. Something that he didn't have time to explain. Kylen
felt fear and the beginnings of panic. There are wheels within wheels
here and I don't even know the game let alone the rules.
He wanted to gauge her abilities to think under fire. McQueen risked some
time to ask her a question and it wasn't an easy one. "Kylen, I need to know
what you learned about surviving when you were a POW. Other than water,
shelter and food. Right NOW, Kylen I need to know. What are the rules?"
She responded to his authority and urgency immediately like a child reciting
a nursery
rhyme. Kylen did not pause to think. She just reacted to his command.
"One" Never draw attention to yourself
She stopped counting but kept up the list: "Keep your eyes open. Know your
surroundings. Create a sense of purpose. If you can, help the weaker but
you can't help everyone. Do whatever it takes to survive."
McQueen was, frankly, astonished. There had been brief pauses and she had
stumbled some but it was obvious to him that she had known the content of the
recitation and had only sought the words. She did learn and the little
package had a backbone of steel. This was more woman than he had thought.
"Good girl. Think. Find the patterns. Look at their relationships. Don't
trust these people automatically but there will be people you CAN trust. Use
your instincts. Choose carefully. These people are NOT your enemies but not
all of them are your friends."
"I will, Colonel."
He had told her what to expect. He had tested her and did not find her
wanting. Kylen felt a strange peace and the confidence given by his tacit
approval. "The Complete Commander," Yes, people would follow him into
battle. Nathan would,
He had slogged through a sea of meds, his lungs
burned, ribs broken - had pressed himself to the limit to give her this
knowledge. At that moment Kylen felt that she would follow him into battle
too. She would do as he said. McQueen had given her courage.
He was exhausted. They both knew it. McQueen closed his eyes, sighed and
rested back onto his pillow. Kylen was afraid that he might have pushed too
far and nervously watched him relax and breathe more smoothly. She felt his
pulse and relaxed herself when she felt it strong and even under her touch.
Door number two had closed.
Her note.....She had wanted to give him the note that she had written. The
note that had pissed him off. Kylen was seized with real urgency. She had a
need to get this done.
He has no pockets, no place to put it.
"Damn it."
He doesn't have any more to his name than I do. No... There had been a bag.
"Find it."
Khaki. Somewhere... Somewhere...
"Damn it."
I saw it. About so big. (She began to search)
No, not underneath.
"Remember the details."
Smaller than a knapsack. You know you saw it!
Someone scrawled his name on it. That black officer had handed it to one
of the Corpsmen. Not at the foot of the stretcher.
"Damn it."
It
has his serial number on it too. Hand written. A rush job. It had been
thrown together in a hurry. And the Corpsman had......The corpsman had....
done what with it? Ah yes, he had clipped it on the rail at the head of
the stretcher.
She felt uncomfortable opening the Colonel's only possession but....Saved
again - it was a good day - She rammed the note into the zipper pocket on the
flap. No harm/No foul.
Kylen moved back to his side. With nothing else to give him in return - to
help him - she smoothed his blanket, tucking him in. His upper lip glistened
with sweat from his recent efforts. She touched his forehead with the back
of her hand. Warm and dry. No temp. She was a bit surprised and proud that
he had accepted her attentions. He had probably fallen asleep.
A quiet voice reached her ear. "Did you find what you needed?" She touched
him lightly on the arm. She had but not the way he had meant.
Chapter Five - CSN&Y
The door of the med transport opened with a clank and several corpsman
appeared at the opening to assist the walking wounded. Kylen elected to
remain seated for a while longer. It would take a while to unload and they
were in the rear. She smiled to herself. She had come to think of herself
and McQueen as 'Us.' They would be separated now and she wanted to delay
that as long as she could. Her loyalties had shifted subtly in the last few
hours. He was as much of her responsibility as any of the former POW's. She
knew that it was true and decided that it probably wasn't too wise to
question it.
He had as much as ordered her to stay in the middle of the pack but he had
also told her to trust her instinct. He had told her to choose carefully
whom to trust and she knew that she trusted him. So, she stayed where she
felt strength and comfort. She would blend in later. She had gotten good at
"The Old LHB" in the last 18 months. 'Lurking, Hiding and Blending.' The
survivors had made it a joke and a dangerous game - given it a name - and
even a point system. They had joked about adding it too their resumes. "An
advanced degree in LHB from A.I.U." She wanted to tell McQueen the joke. She
wanted him to wake up.
Kylen felt strangely like a child at that moment. When she had been little,
if she had a bad dream or felt nervous or scared, she would wake up her
father or her eldest brother, Christian. Sometimes even if she had a good
dream. There had always been such a feeling of security and completeness
with them. A blanket of masculine 'sureness'. She restrained herself from
reaching over and shaking McQueen awake. She desperately wanted him to wake
up and be with her.
The corpsmen came to fetch the Colonel who was the only stretcher bound
passenger. Kylen stood and accompanied them at McQueen's side. As the
entourage neared the exit they heard what could only be described as a
commotion outside the craft. Something was not going well at all. Kylen
could hear crying and several of her friends were shouting.
They hit the doorway and the debacle greeted them. The military wounded were
being lead out of the bay by med techs. The survivors were being herded to
the other side of the bay by soldiers holding rifles. The soldiers barked
orders. The survivors in various flavors of distress tried to break out only
to be firmly placed or even shoved back into the group. She grabbed the bars
on the stretcher with one hand and the arm of a corpsman with the other
halting their progress. There was no way she was going to leave the ISSCV.
No way she was going to leave the ability to hide under McQueen's wing and
step out into the melee. She was scared and outraged.
"It's like the selection at Auschwitz," She glared at the man and shook his
arm. "What? You brought us all this way to kill us?" She knew this to be
exaggerated and false but there was too much going on. It was the last straw
and she wanted to trade insult for insult.
McQueen brought himself back yet again at the sound of the growing confusion.
Why don't they shut up so I can sleep, damn it. Kylen's 'kill us?' had
thrown the final switch and he was as alert as he could make himself, injured
and drugged. He looked around.
"My God, Kent State" he whispered.
"Four dead in Ohio" spat Kylen.
"Clusterfuck," he shot back.
McQueen tried to sit up to see better. She rushed to help him. He surveyed
the scene searching for anyone who looked to be vaguely in charge of this
mess. This is a tactical disaster of monumental proportions. He simply
did not have the energy or really the desire to take command. He caught
movement on his periphery and shifted to see a Marine Major just entering the
bay.
"Him - the Major," He gestured with his head. "Go. Quickly."
Kylen rested him back down. She rested her hand briefly on his chest. She
wanted to say good-bye. Wanted to see him settled and safe. Now wasn't the
time. She was forced to swallow her grief and fear. She gave him a pat and
turned to leave when his whisper again caught her ear.
"Dignity. Don't whine"
She fairly bolted from his side. Making her way through the melee she
mentally surrounded herself with McQueen's bubble and tried to formulate her
request. She slowed to fabricate a dignity she did not feel. Screw rule
number one. So much for not drawing attention to yourself. Imagine yourself
a queen. Doing something - anything - having a purpose gave her courage.
A private grabbed her by the arm. She stopped, reached down and plucked his
hand from her arm. Having no idea of his rank she improvised.
"Excuse me soldier, I'll be with you in a moment" She smiled sweetly and
turned on her heal leaving a stunned private in her wake and was almost
immediately at the Major's side.
The Major was none too pleased. That was obvious. This officer would not
want to be bothered with her, but McQueen had told her this was the man. She
blessed McQueen silently for giving her the man's rank.
She mentally
repeated her marching orders: Major, Dignity, Don't whine. Kylen was
surprised at how ordinary this officer looked. She had thought that people
with the rank of Major would look somehow bigger than life. This man looked
like a teacher - an average guy. It was the only way she could think of to
describe him. Average.
She knew very little about the military but she knew
that they used what she felt to be exaggerated courtesy and more importantly
she did know that a Colonel, even a wounded InVitro Colonel, outranked a
Major. Work with me on this, McQueen, she prayed silently.
"Excuse me, Major, for interrupting (like he was doing anything, right?). But...
(emphasizing ever so slightly) Colonel McQueen (a small gesture to the
wounded man) indicated to me, Sir, that I was to ask if you would do
something, Please Sir, to ameliorate this situation. (ameliorate - good word
- a teacher's word).
As she opened her mouth to speak again the Major raised his hand to silence
her.
"AT EASE," he bellowed and a silence fairly crashed onto the crowd. The Major
then began two simultaneous conversations each with it's own tone and
intensity.
To Kylen: "As a matter of fact, I'm here to escort the Colonel to Sickbay,"
his tone easy and gracious. Without taking his eyes off of Kylen he barked:
"Sergeant."
Back to Kylen: " How is the Colonel doing miss?"
To the sergeant: "A word if you please, Sergeant."
He is interrogating me already, thought Kylen. The Sergeant
miraculously appeared in front of the Major giving her time to search for an
oblique answer.
To the Sergeant; " I believe your task, Sergeant was to guard; as in protect
from harm and interference, the former (emphasis on former) POW's. Your
mission was not and is not to place them under (emphasis on 'under') guard;
as in placing them under arrest or behaving in a manner which could be
construed as threatening."
"Sir, yes, Sir"
To Kylen : "One moment miss......?"
"Celina, Sir, Kylen Celina," I wonder if all officers can do this; Have
two opposing conversations at the same time? she thought.
To the Sergeant: "Let me suggest to you, Sergeant, that you take this
opportunity to make a general announcement to the survivors as to your
purpose and intent. Tell them what is going on, Sergeant."
He turned his gaze to Kylen awaiting her answer.
"Major...?"she asked, waiting for him to fill in his name.
"Howard, Miss Celina. "
"Major Howard, I don't know how much you may have heard regarding the
Colonel's injuries but he appears to be stable. Stable enough to have been
placed on the transport sir."
Major Howard sighed internally. The girl was either a dolt or very
perceptive. Undoubtedly the second. McQueen was not one to suffer fools.
"Sergeant, see to our guests. Dismissed"
"Miss Celina, Will you please take me to see the Colonel." The Major
requested. The girl had known she was being interrogated. But the
question about McQueen's health had been an honest one. I saw the tape.
Kylen lead Major Howard across the bay while the Sergeant droned on about
food, showers, more meetings and blah blah blah blah....She was glad she
wasn't part of the crowd at that moment. It felt in a way powerful not to
be part of the group. To assert herself again. Her fear had gone. She found
the whole thing fascinating. This Military Courtesy was arcane but the
formality and structure also made things in some way clearer. Not to mention
the patina of civility. She was escorting this officer, undoubtedly from
Intelligence, through the flotsam of the loading bay as if she was showing
him into a Victorian parlor for high tea. She understood the irony and she
enjoyed it.
When they arrived at McQueen's side, Kylen took the lead. The student was
reporting to the professor after successfully completed her assignment. She
bent down and spoke quietly, "Colonel McQueen may I present Major Howard
from ..." She left it hanging, dangling like a sword in the air.
Howard realized that he had been hoist on his own petard. He had tried to
finesse her and she had returned the favor in equal measure. He could offer
the information or leave it open which would give them the same information
as if he had shouted it from the rooftops. McQueen had little or no new
information to give him. The girl, on the other hand, may be a motherlode of
information. He had underestimated her. He needed her trust.
OK, Kylen, point to you.
"I'm from Intelligence, Sir. "
McQueen had had it. Let's just get this over with. "Major Howard,
please see to Miss Celina's welfare immediately then get me the hell out of
here. " He was more than sick and tired of the affair but he felt
inordinately proud of her. She may have shown her hand a little too early
but she had tripped the Major. She would do well.
The Major called a marine to his side. "Private, please see to Miss Celina's
comfort" Kylen filed the info away. She now knew a private, sergeant and major by
insignia.
How many damn ranks are there in the Marine Corps? Major
Howard had put Kylen in her place. She knew it and didn't like it one bit but
it was probably best to blend. She turned to McQueen. She really wanted to
hug the man but that was out of the question.
Her mind whispered, Dignity.
"Colonel, McQueen?" He turned his gaze toward her. "Colonel, Thank you,
Sir, for your kindness and concern." He searched her face for a trace of
irony and found none. McQueen found that he rather liked her, almost admired
her in a way. * "I hadn't thought that I would like her."* Strangely,
McQueen didn't trust his voice. He gave her a nod and an 'almost' smile.
Kylen brushed her fingers against his in way of farewell, turned and left
with the private.
Next : Chapter Six to Seven
Previous : Chapter One to Three
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