Burden of Sisyphus (8 page)

           
Vance snapped to attention and saluted.
 
“Captain Young, it’s a pleasure to see you again, Sir.”

           
The captain dismissed the formalities with a flippant wave of his hand.
 
“I make the new recruits do that, because it reminds them we’re a military at war.
 
I served with your father too long to have you stand at attention in front of me.”
 
He motioned Vance to sit and pulled over his own chair.
 
“Speaking of which, how is your father?”

           
“Yes, Sir, our mission went exceptionally well.
 
Thank you for your concern.”

           
The captain rolled his eyes.
 
“What’s wrong with a little small talk?
 
I’ve known your family for years.
 
You were away on your mission for only two weeks.
 
My relationship with your family takes seniority.”

           
“Last I talked to him,” Vance conceded, “he was doing quite well.”

           
“How long ago was that?”

           
Vance shifted uneasily.
 
Though his father was one of the commanding generals in charge of the Alliance Infantry, father and son didn’t always see eye to eye.
 
“Is it OK if we talk about something other than my father?”

           
“Fine.
 
How’s your love life these days?”

           
Vance laughed.
 
“No, believe me.
 
I’d really prefer we didn’t start getting into my love life.”
 
He knocked his boot against the chair leg, jarring caked red sand from the tread.

           
“Someone will have to clean that up, you know.”
 
Captain Young pointed at the growing pile of dirt under the lip of Vance’s seat.

           
“That wouldn’t be an issue if you’d quit sending us to dustbowls on our missions.
 
I’m still not entirely sure why the Terrans continue picking such horrid places on which to establish outposts.
 
Whatever happened to outposts on tropical islands full of bikini-clad women?”

           
“If that were the case, I wouldn’t have any problem keeping my finest soldiers in boots.
 
Well, next-to-finest soldiers.
 
Your group is still the best.”
 
He paused.
 
“I assume they are.”

           
Vance reached under his robe and retrieved a data disk earmarked as Terran property.
 
“We haven’t failed you yet, Sir.
 
We’re still the best in the Alliance.”

           
Captain Young carried the disk to her personal computer console on the podium.
 
He slid in the disk and waited for Alliance technology to decode the complex Terran encryption.

           
After less than a minute, a flood of data poured across the monitor.
 
His eyes flicked back and forth across the screen, trying to take in the information.
 
Hands tapping on the screen, he scrolled through file after file of Terran plans and operations.
 
In the bottom right corner of the screen, a red light flashed persistently.

           
“Anything of importance?” Vance asked, feeling awkward at being ignored while the captain ran through the data.

           
He grunted in confirmation.
 
“Quite a bit, actually.”
 
He mechanically chewed his nails.
 
“Unfortunately, there isn’t much I can share with you until High Council sees this.”

           
Vance nodded.
 
It would be weeks or more before he and his men saw any results from their mission.
 
“Sir, if it’s going to be awhile until we get anything out of the disk, and, I’m guessing, before our next mission, I’d like to request leave for me and my men.
 
We’re a little tired and could use the downtime.”

           
Captain Young smiled, wrinkles extending from the corners of his eyes.
 
“Let me guess—somewhere tropical with bikini-clad women?”

           
“Something like that.”
 
Vance laughed.

           
“I think you and your men have earned a break.
 
We’re stopping at Fatutu IV for resupply and refueling.
 
It doesn’t have a lot in the way of bikini-clad women, but it offers a great stretch of beach.
 
It’ll be a bit of a trip to get there, but your men will manage.
 
When we’re done here, I’ll get the paperwork together to put all of you on leave once we arrive.”
 
He turned away from the screen, his steely gray eyes on Vance.
 
“Are you taking leave with them?”

           
Vance shrugged, telling the captain what he needed to know.

           
“You really need to take some time for yourself,” he said compassionately.

           
“Spending time with her is like taking time off for me.”

           
“I meant away from the ship.
 
I’ll order you to leave if I have to.”

           
“It won’t do you any good.
 
I’m as stubborn as my father.”

           
“I never met a more stubborn Seque of a man than him.”
 
The captain laughed.
 
“Fine.
 
You win.
 
Don’t spend your entire time cooped up in that room with her, either.
 
At least make it up to some of the observation decks.
 
The view of Fatutu IV’s surface from space is truly remarkable.
 
You should check it out.”

           
“I’ll see what I can do,” Vance said halfheartedly.

           
“I’ll take that as a solid no.
 
Suit yourself, but don’t say this old man didn’t try.”

           
As the captain rose from his chair, Vance stood, knowing the meeting was over.

           
“As always, Captain, it’s been a pleasure.”
 
Vance saluted.

           
“Get out of here before I throw you out.”

           
Vance collected his things and started climbing the steps.

           
As Vance neared the door, Captain Young called, “I’ll let you know when we’re approaching the planet.
 
Until then, keep your kids out of trouble.”

           
“We’ll be waiting impatiently,” Vance called over his shoulder, as he left the room.

           
Once Vance was gone, the smile faded from the captain’s lips.
 
His eyes went to the blinking red light in the bottom corner, and his frown deepened, as he looked toward the recently departed Pilgrim.

           
“You really shouldn’t have opened the disk, Vance.”

CHAPTER FIVE

           
The large civilian transport dipped through the wispy clouds over Arcendus and skimmed over the tips of the tall mountain range.
 
As snow-capped mountains gave way to gently rolling foothills, Keryn watched the city of Arcendor rise from the artificially flattened plain.
 
Resting in a valley, surrounded on all sides by towering mountain ranges, it sat like an oasis on an otherwise mountainous planet.
 
Sitting between the sparkling blue waters of the city’s namesake lake, the city was the architectural equivalent of the Avalons’ soaring majesty.

           
Large, flowing spires rose sharply from the sunlit streets, supporting a litany of twisting turrets of smooth, white stone.
 
Banners crackled above domed roofs on the spires, caught continually in the cool breeze pouring from the nearby mountains.
 
Between the buildings, interlocking like an intricate web of capillaries spreading across the city’s majestic body, pedestrian walkways linked the spires’ peaks and wound down their length.
          

           
As Keryn watched, Avalons launched from the topmost balconies of the spires, spreading their wings and gliding from building to building on the warm updrafts generated from the streets below.
 
Between catwalks buzzing with foot traffic and soaring Avalons in the air, the city seemed alive, like a constantly shifting, writhing organism.
 
The Avalon home world was everything she expected.

           
Watching through the narrow portcullis of the civilian transport, she saw the tall spires drop away, as they approached the edge of the lake, giving way to luscious green grass.
 
The edges of the green lawns were traced by ground-level sidewalks that led to a massive, four-story brick structure that covered nearly a half-mile of property along the shore.
 
To the building’s periphery sat enormous hangar bays, their retractable roofs glistening in the warm air.

           
The civilian transport passed over the green fields and angled toward a flat section of poured concrete marked with alternating blue and yellow lights that chased each other around the perimeter of the square landing zone.
 
Firing its maneuvering rockets, the transport changed trajectory one last time before settling smoothly to the ground.

           
The few other students onboard stood and collected their gear.
 
Keryn nervously tugged on her light gray cadet’s uniform, as she wanted for the crowd to thin before standing and pulling her duffel bag free from the overhead compartment.
 
Many other students struck up friendly conversations with each other and joked about the long journey to Arcendor.
 
Occasionally, they gave Keryn an odd look, obviously surprised to see a Wyndgaart at the Academy.
 
Feeling surprisingly exposed and out of place, she readjusted her confining uniform jacket one last time before falling into line with the exiting cadets.

           
Squinting against the bright light, she savored the warmth of the Arcendus sun, as she stepped off the cramped transport.
 
The trip was cold, made doubly so by the Oterian sitting nearby, who insisted on keeping cool air on his furry body at all times.
 
Keryn couldn’t remember the last time she felt so cold, having spent her entire life enjoying the constant temperatures of the Wyndgaart home world.
 
Still, she knew she was in for a new series of experiences and adventures, as she began pilot training.

           
Having no guidance from the transport crew, the cadets gathered outside the ship.
 
Breaking into cliques often separated by race, they talked and gossiped among themselves.
 
More than once, Keryn saw a finger point at her.
 
Frowning, she walked around the side of the ship, leaned against its heated metal exterior, and soaked in the sun’s rays.

           
After resting for less than a minute, she heard a commotion stop at the back of the plane, as the group fell into harsh silence.
 
Sticking her head around the rear of the ship, she watched a pale-skinned Avalon garbed in a black uniform, step before the gaggle of cadets.

           
“Cadets!” she shouted.
 
“Fall in!”

           
Hurrying to join the others, Keryn stood in the rear of four rows, as the cadets jostled for position in the lines.

           
“Let me be the first to welcome you all to the Alliance Fleet Academy,” the Avalon said.
 
“My name is Magistrate Victoria, but you may call me Ma’am.
 
I’ll be one of your primary instructors for the first year.
 
Some of your faces are familiar to me, your families having long-standing legacies here at the Academy.
 
For some in this crowd, your families have as many as eight generations of previous graduates from this institution.”