Targeting Error (Intergalactic Pandemonium Part 2) Page 2

  #

  Admiral Carter chartered a helicopter to Homey Airport by way of the USS Independence. For such a short notice, Carter was only able to snag a quick salad for dinner in the mess hall and stop in the bathroom, flying out immediately after refueling. He enjoyed seeing the new recruits enjoying their limited free time while feeling guilty about trimming their pay this upcoming year. They already make so little and risk so much. Especially now. With war looming on the horizon, even with help from The Ally, he knew they wouldn’t all survive to see their families again. Watching the seamen laugh and enjoy their new-found friends, he smiled weakly and decided not to cut their pay.

  Upon arrival in the Nevada desert he spent a whole minute relishing the stifling heat and spindly cactuses. He enjoyed skiing as much as the next guy, but he can only brush off the effects of cabin fever in Antarctica for so long. After basking his last relaxing minute in the desert, he drove a rental car straight to Horizon Biomechanical Research Facility Four. Admiral Carter was amused that such important work be done in the heat and barren land of the desert. The air conditioning bill for the equipment alone must be a fortune.

  He plowed through the revolving door, flashing a badge at the front desk, and marched straight through Dr. Megan Foster’s door. He found the sylphlike woman shifting stacks of paperwork with her elegant legs crossed and her floating foot dancing in the air. Her thick glasses and cloud of mischievous fiery hair always made him smile.

  “Got a minute, Doc?”

  Dr. Foster smiled at the pleasant sight. “They let you out of the frozen wasteland?”

  “I’ve been subsisting on chopper peanuts and mess deck salad bar.” He said looking around her office. Three of her walls were covered like a library and through the glass wall behind her desk, a ficus basked in the radiant sunlight. The candy dish would not do. “Got any actual food around here?”

  Dr. Foster opened her desk drawer and tossed a granola bar at him. “I have a meeting on the new biomechanical prototype, S.A.M. I think you’d like it, care to join me?”

  “I’d love to,” Admiral Carter said sitting on the corner of her desk while inhaling the bar. He slid his fingers along her jawline and smiled with a mouth full. “But there’s a bit of an urgent issue at hand. Any word yet?”

  “Nothing. Absolute radio silence.” She said, “It is odd for a response to take this long. I assure you the moment I hear anything, you’ll know.” Her large almond eyes appeared ten times bigger through her thick lenses.

  He tossed the wrapper in her small waste bin and shook off the crumbs from his hands. “We have Plan B lined up, just in case, but I know it won’t do any good. The fleet is too powerful.” Admiral Carter stood up alongside her desk and scratched the back of his head. “It just helps the others to feel like something is being done, you know?”

  “What more can be done?” She asked.

  “Is it possible another message can be sent? Seventeen hours have passed already.”

  “You’re losing confidence in me?”

  “No,” He said, “but--”

  Dr. Foster’s phone rang, interrupting the line Admiral Carter was afraid to utter. His confidence in the doctor was sinking like a brick in the ocean. He knew the coordinates were sent by only her. As she chatted, the news sounded promising in her voice. She hung up the receiver and her tone darkened. Her face flushed as crimson as her hair.

  “Yes, what is it?” He asked impatiently.

  “Admiral, planet Quetoss received the message and now confirmed their intergalactic starship fleet’s arrival in our defense; however,” she said, shifting uncomfortably while staring at the Admiral’s crooked glasses, “they received the wrong coordinates. They are not coming here.”

  “WHAT!” Admiral Carter pounded his fists on a guest chair’s leather backrest. “They must come! I promised...” He tossed his cap on her desk and fisted wads of hair, resuming his pacing. Dr. Foster sunk in her seat, watching him.

  “It gets worse,” she uttered carefully.

  The stress in this voice climbed rapidly. “How? What could possibly be worse than planetary invasion by an elite intergalactic fleet, that may I add, is royally pissed about my killing their negotiator.” He stood still and waited for her answer. What’s worse than messy, painful extermination?

  “Quetoss Master Quid claims too many resources have been spent on our debacle already and he refuses to waste more fuel transporting his entire fleet across six galaxies. They won’t come at all.”

  Admiral Carter sunk into the guest chair and blew out a breath. He replaced his cap squarely on his head. There was only one option left.

  “If they are refusing the correct coordinates, I must go myself and beg. Beg for help from Master Quid himself.”

  “No!” Dr. Foster leapt to her feet. “You cannot risk your life! How will you get there? There is no technology available yet.”

  Admiral Carter stared her down, “I need your pod.”

  Dr. Foster fell into her chair and her arms hung limply. “You can’t translate the Quetoss language, and how do you know it will even fly? It hasn’t been tested for decades.”

  “There is no choice left. I must do what I can. I got us into this debacle, and I will get us out.”

  “Please don’t go, you just can’t.” Dr. Foster said, standing and clutching his arm. “I’ll go. I can speak to the Quetoss master.”

  It pained him to say it, but he had to. “You translated the coordinates wrong.”

  She stood flabbergasted. “I know I’m rusty, it’s been 112 years, but I swear to you I will help you with everything I have. Please let me accompany you, if for nothing else than we perish together.”

  Admiral Carter watched her sullen face. Her eyes misted while her shoulders hung. He couldn’t imagine leaving her, but for her own good, he must. He will send the Quetoss fleet to Earth and stop the war from reaching their doorstep. She will remain safe and he will return to her.

  “Come help me get her ready.”

  Dr. Foster and Admiral Carter drove straight to the three-story Queen Anne. In the cellar, covered in a dusty tarp, sat the pod. He flipped the cover back and they both coughed. Then he opened the hidden bay doors in the basement and peeked out for prying eyes. She pressed the power button on the control panel and the pod lifted and hummed.

  “Bessy still works.” She said.

  “At least we have a smidgeon of luck.” He dusted the intake vents while she turned on the controls. The van-sized gleaming black pod with brownish areas of rust accommodated up to four people. It had just enough interior room to maneuver to different seats or to the bathroom. Along the wall outside the bathroom hung four cots. Lights and buttons surrounded the cockpit while buckles and straps surrounded the seats. Dr. Foster depressed a button of utmost importance and Admiral Carter watched with wonder as the pod faded to invisibility.

  “Is she all set?” He asked her.

  “Ready as she’ll ever be.”

  Dr. Foster walked around the pod to Admiral Carter and found his backpack hanging from his shoulder. He tossed it inside the cabin and stepped to her. He smiled with wistful eyes and stroked her jawline. He kissed her as if he hadn’t seen her in weeks.

  Tears sprung on her eyes. “You aren’t leaving without me!” She cried, feeling his goodbye through his passionate lips.

  “I won’t risk your life. What if they get angry seeing you? You didn’t leave on the best terms.”

  “They did offer to help, right?” Dr. Foster sniffled.

  “Master Quid owed us one, and it seems like the ineffectual effort he made will be the sum. I’ll convince him to set a new trajectory and I need you to stay here, safe.”

  “Safe? If you don’t reach Quetoss in time, the entire planet will be destroyed. With me on it.”

  “I won’t be late. I’m not arguing with you anymore.” He smiled and blinked back tears. “I could use a good cup of coffee when I return.”

  She returned his smiled and kissed him o
ne last time with an incredibly strong embrace. Carter nearly lost his breath from her squeeze. Then he climbed into Bessy’s cabin and closed the air-locked glass door. Firing up the engines and checking the sensors, he charted the coordinates for Quetoss and then stealthily zipped out of the basement into daylight and quickly into the darkness of outer space.

  Admiral Carter blocked as many memories of Megan as he could. Everytime he pictured her face, tears surfaced. What had he done? The woman he loved was abandoned on a doomed planet. He blinked the tears back and decided a long nap would be sufficient for clearing his head. He needed to be focused to enter Quetoss’s atmosphere of the Tadpole Galaxy exactly nine hours later. His nap was filled with unrest and dreams of the Earth being blown to bits. Each time he cried out and tossed in his chair. The time passed too quickly and he woke to a beeping alarm, shut it off, and checked the clock. Twenty one hours left until the destruction of Earth. He let out an achy stretch of his back and jolted so strongly a pain shot down his spine when fingers tapped his shoulder.

  “What!”

  He turned around and saw the bleary mess of Dr. Foster.

  “Please don’t be angry.” She blubbered.

  “I...” He struggled to find the right words as he looked upon her quivering lower lip.

  “I couldn’t let you go without me.”

  “I... I’m so glad you’re here. That was the biggest mistake of my life.” He answered through thickening tears.

  She let out a weak laugh, “Not murdering an alien being on secret government grounds knowing the destruction of Earth would be imminent?”

  “Well, ok. Second worst mistake.” He weakly smiled.

  She climbed into the front seat and he flipped the autopilot switch off and smoothly landed with confirmed radio permission upon a lit square outside Bleboor City limits. After the hiss of the hydraulic glass door opening, four armed guards with thick black armor approached the pod.

  “Carter?” One of them asked.

  “Yes, I’m here--”

  “Follow us please.”

  Two burly armed guards led the way while two marched behind Admiral Carter and Dr. Foster into Bleboor Castle. They passed through immaculate white floors and walls with silver swirls inlaid and silver railings. Above was a glass ceiling showing the magenta swirls of the Tadpole Galaxy. The caravan followed along a winding bright path up a circular ramp.

  “You’d never need a reading lamp in this place,” He joked to her and she frowned.

  They kept walking until they reached a heavily secured door. It silently swung open and the two leading guards stood aside. Their path ended in a dimmer but white room with two benches running the length. Admiral Carter saw a single skylight overhead and stepped inside, but found Dr. Foster didn’t follow.

  “I don’t like this,” She said. The two trailing guards stepped forward, blocking their way out.

  “We insist you wait here.” The left guard said.

  Admiral Carter returned to her and pulled her by the hand. “It’s ok, I called ahead.”

  “You make it sound like you ordered a pizza.” She slacked while following him and as they crossed the threshold, the door closed and sealed.

  “We are locked in?” He asked through the door and received no answer. “Why? I have an appointment with the master.”

  “Somehow I don’t think they trust us.”

  The pair sat on a bench. Dr. Foster knitted her fingers together and Carter rubbed his hand on her back, comforting her and waited.

  “Should’ve brought snacks.” Admiral Carter said.

  An impatient Carter kept returning his attention to his watch. He strode over to the door and yelled through it, “What’s taking so long? Our meeting with Master Quid passed three hours ago!” He kicked the door until his toes hurt.

  Dr. Foster leaned her face into her hands with elbows resting on her lap. The echoes of his kicks jolted her. “Stop, please stop!” She begged.

  As the last of the reverberation ceased, metal gears clinking startled them both. The door slowly opened. Two guard stood alongside the door and a third approached.

  “Follow me,” He ordered. “Master will see you now.”

  “Finally.” Admiral Carter said with a huff, stepping first.

  Dr. Foster paused an extra second, staring at the masked guard and walked passed. She thought his voice was familiar, but the guard didn’t react. She must have confused him with someone else. She turned her head back to confirm and the guard shifted to watch her. She swallowed thickly.

  The pair, along with the single guard, backtracked until they reached a corner where a new ramp started. It swirled around the multi-story open room to the top where an ornate white door with silver etchings opened for its guests. Inside this white room, flickering orbs of light danced weightless in the air and a massive fireplace spanned the length of the back wall. In front of this spectacular purple fire stood a small white desk and overly intricate high-back white chair.

  Guards stood along the wall, a dozen or so in total, plus the one accompanying them, giving Dr. Foster the shivers. All of them stood immobile and identical to one another.

  The high-back chair spun and Master Quid himself sat hunched, feeble, as if the weight of his gems and precious metals was winning the battle against his aged bones. A white beard draped down to his lap and his sunken eyes looked pained, tired. Admiral Carter was surprised at how fragile Master Quid appeared. All the legends about him suggested otherwise.

  Master Quid spoke with a tired air in a foreign tongue that Admiral Carter had no hope of ever figuring out. He was eternally grateful Megan snuck aboard.

  Dr. Foster translated his words to him. “He said I will get to the point Admiral: I don’t appreciate our limited resources being wasted.”

  Admiral Carter took minor offense, “We don’t appreciate being locked in a dungeon for hours when our planet is on the verge of total destruction. We made a deal, you owed a favor and I’m sorry that a miscommunication sent your fleet to the wrong location, but can you please redirect them to Earth?”

  Dr. Foster roughly translated back and the aged leader’s response seemed angry. He stood with surprising strength and shouted. She spoke back to Master Quid and the two exchanged words for a short while.

  Carter broke in at the first pause. “What did he say? What’s going on?”

  “He said he didn’t appreciate his daughter being placed in harm’s way.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Roughly.”

  “Tell him I don’t know who his daughter is, but with the help of his fleet--”

  “Dennis.” Dr. Foster said softly, “It’s me.”

  “What?”

  “I’m Master Quid’s daughter.” She repeated. “I’m sorry I never told you.”

  Master Quid started shouting in his native tongue again and Dr. Foster sunk to her knees in tears. Admiral Carter protectively stepped in front of her and scowled at Quid. The feeble humanoid’s face softened. He finally spoke English as well as he could.

  “I see you two. If this she really want, I do it.” Then he asked in his tongue for her confirmation. She nodded and Admiral Carter helped her to her feet.

  “Very well. Consider deal done.” The master folded his arms.

  Dr. Foster mumbled to her father incoherently and then walked out of the chamber with Admiral Carter trailing her. The same single guard marched behind as they headed for Bessy.

  “What happened in there?” He asked.

  “He was upset that I chose Earth over Quetoss. I explained to him that I love you, I love my work, and that I won’t stay here.”

  “That’s why he’s sending the fleet? Because you’re returning to Earth?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well then I thank you. I mean, I was going to be neck-deep in trouble if I couldn’t save the planet.”

  “At least no one would remember it.” Dr. Foster sent him a little smile and they held hands to the pod.

  The ar
mored guard stood at attention until the two climbed in. “See you around, Meid.”

  Admiral Carter turned in surprise to Dr. Foster, “What was he talking about?”

  “Meid is my—was my Quetoss name. I don’t recognize the voice though.” She lied.

  At liftoff the sole guard retreated to the castle. The pod zipped off into the darkness of outer space within seconds.

  “So after 30 years, I now find out you’re a princess?” Admiral Carter asked.

  “Uh, don’t remind me. That’s not the life I chose and he’s resentful about it.” She said.

  “I always wondered how you had such strong connections to Quetoss.”

  “My charming good looks and personality weren’t dead giveaways?” She sniffled.

  “Honey, you’re gorgeous and brilliant, but no, I don’t think that would be enough.”

  The pod soared through space at 60,000 miles per hour. Admiral Carter glanced at the digital clock after hearing ticking in his head. Seventeen hours remained and the flight was nine hours long, without disruptions. Little beads of sweat popped up on his forehead. He wiped them with the crook of his arm and Dr. Foster watched.

  “Don’t worry,” She said. “They’ll be there.”

  The pod soared through the inky blackness for hours and occasionally swerved around a rogue comet. As they neared Earth’s atmosphere, their worst nightmare stood blocking their descent.

  Molivon fleet blacked out half the earth as their battle cruisers drifted into position. As soon as they were within range of the satellites, Admiral Carter’s cell phone played a mini orchestra of voice mails and missed text messages.

  “Sixty-seven missed messages,” He said, “Must be a record.”

  “How are we going to land without being spotted?” She said.

  “Don’t worry,” He said calmly. “We have the invisibility shield up.”

  “That only works to fool the eye, not the radar.”

  Immediately after her warning, a bright red light flashed in the pod’s cockpit.

  “What does that mean?” He asked.

  “We’ve been spotted.”

  “Can we swerve around them or something? Bessy must have some special skills hidden in all this clockwork, right?” After Admiral Carter asked, the flashing light started beeping. “Now what?”

  “We’ve been targeted,” She said, “Quick, flip the autopilot off. I’ll see what Bessy has left in her.”

  He did as told and Dr. Foster took the reins. The pod shifted and swerved at break-neck speed and cornered like a gazelle. She careened the pod straight down--relative to their perspective--and flipped under the wall of cruisers. After clearing the mass they breathed a sigh of relief and exchanged smiles. Suddenly their pod jerked to a stop, their view blocked by a black wall.

  “What’s going on?” Admiral Carter asked.

  “Too late. We’re too late!” She said, “The Molivon absorbed the pod into their ship. We’ll be lucky if they don’t vaporize us in the next twenty seconds.”

  The small room, as large as an airplane hangar, was plain stainless steel all around. The room ended with two halls running in opposite directions. There were no windows.

  “Oh, great.” He said, “Can’t you reverse or something Meg?”

  Dr. Foster turned to him and sent him The Look. The same warning look women have been sending men since the dawn of relationships. Admiral Carter silently leaned back in his seat.

  The glass lid opened on its own and six enormous guards covered in tactical equipment and carrying vapor blasters surrounded the craft. Dr. Foster spoke Quetossian quickly, hoping to confuse the enemy.

  One guard and Dr. Foster exchanged dialog for a few moments, leaving Admiral Carter helplessly out of the loop. He dared not to utter a word for fear of being labelled Earthen and vaporized immediately.

  A large buzzing sound vibrated down the left hall followed by a crash. The six guards turned their attention to the source and started blasting their weapons.

  “What’s going on?” Admiral Carter whispered to her.

  She smiled broadly, stood and retracted the glass door down. She pressed the reverse button and zipped through the optical illusion of a wall like a mouse from a cat.

  “Quetoss soldiers arrived and they disengaged the field.”

  Admiral Carter searched the dark space for any indication of the ally ships. They all looked the same. “How do they tell each other apart?”

  “What do you mean?” She scrunched up her face. “Quetoss is there. Very different from Molivon. I can’t believe you’d even say that.”

  Admiral Carter had no idea what she was seeing so he waited patiently while Dr. Foster drove and parked in their basement. They exited the pod and Carter dashed for the stairs.

  “Seven hours until the end of the earth and you’re leaving? You’re not a soldier.” She exclaimed.

  Admiral Carter returned to his love and gave her a kiss. “I’m a leader, princess.” He said with a smile, “And I can’t miss my coffee date.”

  END

  Personal Message from Stephanie Flynn:

  I hope you enjoyed my short story. Come on back for the next installment in the series. Please take a moment and leave a review at your favorite retailer. Much appreciated!

  About Stephanie Flynn

  Stephanie Flynn is the author of the young adult novel Taming the Iris as well as a slew of science fiction short stories and poetry slowly being added to tabs above. She lives in Michigan with her children and husband. When she’s not glued to her computer, she’s inhaling books about words, books about novels, books about publishing and a little bit of everything else: chick lit, horror, science fiction, fantasy, and the classics. She gravitates toward writing thrillers and romance novels; sometimes both inside one cover, and science fiction short stories.

  On the odd day Michigan has warm weather, her family enjoys kayaking, biking, rollerblading, and walking in the parks.

  Connect with the Author

  Connect with Stephanie at her website

  Follow on Facebook

  Follow on Twitter