Rebel Fleet Read online

  “Look, if there’s some kind of space-virus going around, it will take time to incubate. Isn’t that how it works with any disease? You can’t catch an illness instantly. It takes days.”

  “Yeah, that’s how it normally works.”

  “Doctor Chang was just being cautious.”

  She sighed then, and her hand snaked out to catch mine. We held hands as we walked downhill to the line of brightly-lit hotels that were strung along the highway between the beach and the road.

  I took her to her room, and we lingered at the door.

  “That was really brave, what you did out there,” she said.

  “Not as brave as Jason who dove after some kind of fallen UFO.”

  She shook her head. “No, it was braver. He didn’t know there was anything dangerous about it. You did.”

  There were holes in that argument, but I would be damned I was going to point them out. I smiled at her instead.

  She looked me over thoughtfully. “Light brown hair, soft brown eyes, thick jaw… You have the body of an ape, but the face of an innocent. I bet you get away with a lot, don’t you?”

  “Uh…” I said.

  “You want to come inside?” she asked. She was looking down as if suddenly shy. “There’s no way I’m going to sleep tonight.”

  “Sure,” I said brightly. I was tired, but a man has to take opportunities like this by the horns.

  We made love over the next hour or so, in between soul-searching moments. Kim had never been so close to a death before, and it was hitting her hard. Seeing another person die always made you realize how fragile your own life was. She had been dreading a night of brooding insomnia and was more than a little interested in some intimacy—even with the likes of me.

  When she finally passed out, I found I was the one who had trouble sleeping. I couldn’t stop thinking about everything I’d seen tonight.

  I felt like I had to tell someone official about it. Over several sleepless hours, I decided who that someone was going to be.

  Slipping out from under Kim’s sleeping form, I got out my cellphone and took it onto the balcony. Then I called Washington D. C.

  One might think that phoning the capital in the middle of the night would be not only pointless but downright rude. The six hour time difference, however, made up for all that. It was mid-morning on the East Coast.

  I tried to get my old commander on the line, but that failed. Rather than giving up, I called general information at the Pentagon.

  The phone was answered by a bored clerk. After explaining what I wanted, I was pushed up the chain a notch. The second person was a woman who at least sounded like she knew what she was doing.

  “Name?” she asked.

  “Lieutenant Leo Blake, Navy Reservist.”

  I heard her tapping at a keyboard. “What can we do for you, Lieutenant?”

  “Last night I was involved with a stellar flux event.”

  “Lt. Blake,” the voice interrupted. “Thousands of people witness these events every week. They’re thought to be natural phenomena that haven’t yet been explained by science. Any hysteria is an unwarranted—”

  “Look,” I interrupted. “I’m not calling to whine at you. Something fell to Earth, I think, and I swam down to find it. Interacting with the object caused the death of a friend of mine.”

  The voice was quiet for a few seconds. “Blake, are you saying you had personal contact with an unknown object related to a local stellar flux?”

  “I’m saying that, yes.”

  “Hold please.”

  Rolling my eyes tiredly, I did as the voice commanded. Talking to government types was bringing back all kinds of memories. I’d gone into the Navy thinking I would make a career of it, but I’d been newly married at the time. The marriage had failed, and my wife had left me. After that, I’d left my career behind.

  Hawaii had supposedly been a way to relax for a time and gather my thoughts about the future. I’d rapidly turned into a beach-bum, but that hadn’t been entirely a bad thing. Now, my old life was coming back to me.

  The wait on hold lasted for nine minutes. That’s the trouble with cellphones, they’re really good at telling you just how much time you’ve wasted.

  Finally the line crackled again. There were some beeps, and I thought I’d been dropped—but then a new voice spoke.

  “This is Vice Admiral Shaw,” the voice said.

  I was immediately shocked into wakefulness. There were only two hundred and sixteen admirals of any variety in the U. S. Navy, the maximum allowed by law. As a result, they weren’t exactly commonplace. The fact I’d managed to get one on the phone—well, that was a frigging miracle.

  “Uh… sorry to disturb you, Admiral Shaw,” I said. “I was just reporting in about an unusual encounter that I thought might—”

  “Let me ask you some questions, Blake,” Shaw said suddenly. “Did you touch the object you found?”

  “No sir, not directly. I went down to rescue a friend who’d done so. His hand became frozen to the object, which was boiling like a witch’s cauldron.”

  “Someone else came into contact with the object?” Shaw asked sharply.

  “Yes sir—but he didn’t make it. He died just a few hours ago.”

  “I see.”

  There was a pause, during which I had time to reflect upon how unsurprised the admiral seemed by all my statements. He hadn’t asked for details about the bubbling or the light or the cold. He hadn’t even seemed surprised to learn that the man who’d touched it had died.

  I got the sense he was conferring with someone else, or maybe taking notes, so I waited. I’m an impatient man by nature, but I was willing to stay good and quiet for an admiral.

  “Blake, why did you leave the Navy?” Shaw asked me suddenly.

  “Um… Personal problems, sir.”

  “Oh yes, your wife. The dates coincide. I’m sorry for that upheaval in your private life, but your commitment to military service goes beyond such matters. You’re a trained naval aviator, and that sort of investment is something we don’t like to lose.”

  Frowning, I wasn’t quite sure what to say. He sounded like a recruiter.

  “I… I served out the terms of my contract, sir. And I’m still in the active reserves.”

  “That’s correct. And as of right now, I’m reactivating you on an emergency basis. Your reactivation is effective immediately. You’re not to speak to anyone else about this, understood?”

  “Sweet Jesus!” I said in an uncontrolled reaction. “I mean—I’m sorry sir, but this is a shock. Uh… to answer your question, yes, I understand.”

  Shaw chuckled. “Welcome back to the Navy, Blake. Stay within ten miles of your current GPS coordinates—yes, we’ve triangulated your phone. I’ll send someone local out from Pearl to pick you up.”

  My mind was whirling around like a bug in a toilet. I couldn’t take it all in at once. What should I do? What should I say?

  I couldn’t argue with him about the legalities. I knew he could pull the strings to do this if he wanted to. Finally, a question occurred to me, and I opened my mouth to ask it.

  “Sir, what was that thing I found down there? You must know.”

  There was no answer. My phone had fallen silent. At some point over the last few seconds, the admiral had disconnected. The bastard hadn’t even said good-bye.

  “Shit,” I said, lowering my cellphone.

  Staring out at the city, my eyes were drawn to the ocean beyond. It was inky black with tiny pinpoints of light moving over it here and there, marking the passage of local boats. Farther out to sea, bigger ships sailed by, and planes glimmered overhead. The dawn was coming soon, and already the eastern sky was brightening with pink, predawn light.

  The world was going on as usual out there, but my life had just taken an abrupt and unexpected twist.

  Inside my head, I asked myself over and over again: Leo, what the hell possessed you to make that damned call?

  =3=

>   As I’d been ordered to stay put, I figured Kim’s place would be as good as any to wait. It was sure better than the rented cot I had out on the highway.

  I slid back into bed with Kim, but she wasn’t asleep anymore.

  “Who was that?” she asked. “Who were you talking to on the phone?”

  “No one,” I lied, because I’d just been ordered to do so.

  She kicked me in the side, and I grunted unhappily.

  “You’re not getting away with that,” she said. “Get out.”

  I looked at her with bleary eyes. I really needed some sleep.

  “What? Why?” I demanded.

  “Because I’m not putting up with you calling other women from my hotel room.”

  “That’s not—”

  She kicked me again. “Out,” she said.

  “Damn, girl…” I said, getting up with a groan.

  I’d been kicked out of bed before, both literally and figuratively. I could have argued, but I knew it wasn’t going to do me any good. Even if I managed to talk her into letting me stay, she wasn’t going to let me get any rest.

  “If you change your mind, call me,” I said and left.

  Almost staggering now, I made my way down to the beach. It was closer than the flophouse room which I’d been sharing with Jason. It was cleaner, too.

  I found a chaise lounge out in front of one of the beachfront hotels. If you were lucky, you could catch a few hours on one before getting chased off.

  Stealing a towel, I draped it over my face and began dozing on the beach. There were dangers involved in this kind of thing, but I was desperate. For one, you might get robbed. Also, more than once I’d gotten a ferocious sunburn by sleeping too many hours without sunscreen.

  Deciding to take my chances, I fell into a hard sleep. My dreams were troubled, and they were cut short by a man wearing a frown and carrying a two-way radio.

  “May I see your hotel card key, sir?” he asked me.

  I looked around. It was about ten a.m., if I had to guess.

  “I must have left it in the room,” I said. “I’ll go get it. My wife can let me back in.”

  He stared at me suspiciously as I hopped up and headed for the hotel’s beach entrance. I needed to move quickly before he asked my name. If he pushed it, I would have just said the room was under some made-up name—but it was best not to start a chain of lies.

  I left him watching my back and talking into his radio. If I’d looked homeless, he probably would have called the cops. But I’m gifted with the looks of a man who should be employed and successful. That simple fact had gotten me through troubles during my beach-bum life on multiple occasions.

  When I got to the door of the hotel, I lucked out when one of the guests came out just as I arrived. I caught the door and slipped inside.

  Heading straight to the restrooms off the lobby, I cleaned up as best I could. You’d be surprised how much a man can do with soap, water and a load of six-inch brown-paper towels.

  After that, I joined the shuffling crowd at the complimentary breakfast. No one objected, and I ate like a king. I even went back for seconds.

  Feeling refreshed, I exited the front of the building. The key to this sort of life was looking like you belonged wherever you were. The doorman let me out with a smile and a nod, as if he was expecting a tip. I could have told him the well was dry, but instead I nodded back.

  “Could you call me a cab?” I asked. “I have to go to the hospital.”

  He frowned but complied without question. I appreciated that kind of service.

  When I arrived at the hospital, I tossed the driver some of my slim supply of cash and walked into the emergency room. After requesting Doctor Chang, I was surprised by the answer.

  “He’s been… detained,” the receptionist said. “But we were told to expect you. Please take a seat.”

  “Detained?” I asked. “You mean he’s off-shift?”

  “No, he works from midnight until mid-morning usually. But he left some time ago.”

  Getting a bad feeling, I nodded as if unsurprised. “The Navy guys picked him up, didn’t they?”

  She blinked at me then nodded.

  “Two men?” I asked in a conversational tone.

  “No, three. But only one of them was in uniform.”

  “I see. Well, I’ll check back with you later.”

  “Hold on, I was supposed to call them.”

  She dug out a card, which I snatched from her surprised fingers.

  “Sir? I need that card...”

  I studied the number then handed it back to her.

  She frowned at me sternly. “Are you some kind of criminal?” she demanded.

  “No,” I assured her. “No more than Dr. Chang was.”

  That seemed to click with her, and she lowered her voice, becoming more affable. “What’s this all about, Mr. Blake?”

  “Military experiments,” I said. “I’m in the Navy.”

  “Ah…” she replied. “The flux event last night! That was you out there, wasn’t it? Everyone’s been talking about that poor kid you brought in.”

  Then I remembered Admiral Shaw’s orders.

  “I’m not supposed to talk about that.”

  “I see.”

  She was cold again, so I left her alone. Heading outside, I saw a car pull up. There were three men inside. One of them was in a Navy uniform.

  These guys looked serious. The two in plainclothes wore particularly unpleasant expressions. They looked like spooks to me—CIA, or something like that.

  I performed a sharp left turn and walked toward the road. I never looked back over my shoulder.

  Behind me I heard them troop into the emergency room.

  Something was up. Call it a bum’s intuition, but I can always tell when security is looking for me. Right now, the back of my neck was all tingly.

  Sure, I could have gone inside and demanded answers. But what if they’d arrested me on the spot? What if Admiral Shaw wasn’t an admiral, but a spook of some kind instead?

  The number one question in my mind concerned Dr. Chang. Why had they taken him away then returned without him? Where was he now? It wasn’t going to take long for the chatty receptionist to tell them I’d just left. On instinct, I tried the first door I found that led back into the hospital. It was locked.

  Trotting around the building to the back, I found another entrance near a dumpster. This door had been propped open. Why? Maybe the janitor wanted a fresh, morning breeze.

  Slowing down to a walking pace again, I nonchalantly stepped into the place. Anyone eyeing me would know right off I didn’t belong here. I was wearing swim trunks, an open shirt and sandals. It was a far cry from scrubs and lab coats.

  Not even I could pull off walking through the back offices of the hospital. I was stopped by the first desk-jockey who popped out into the hallway.

  “Sir? Can I help you?”

  “You sure can,” I told the pencil neck with squinty eyes and big round glasses. “I’m afraid I’ve lost my way. Could you show me to the main floor? I’m supposed to be visiting my mother.”

  “Ah, I see. Did you know visiting hours haven’t started yet?”

  “No—sorry. Could you point the way to the waiting room?”

  The drone gave me a look, and I knew he was deciding whether or not to call security. I waited with confidence, and he smiled at last. My honest face was really paying off today.

  “The main floor is that way,” he said. He pointed then went back to his office. I headed in the indicated direction for a dozen paces but ducked into the first side passage I could find. After that, I ended up in a janitor’s closet to avoid more prying eyes.

  Janitors usually work at night, and the closet was nicer than others I’ve been in. I figured that if I sat in here a half hour or so, they’d probably give up and search somewhere else.

  I had ample time to reflect upon the nature of my life-choices, and how they’d brought me to this low moment. But mostly
, I kicked myself for calling Washington in the first place.

  These dancing stars must have the government on edge. Whatever they were doing in response, it was apparently heavy-handed. Bureaucrats hated unexpected events, and watching the stars flicker on and off in the sky must have been near the top of their “undesirable” list.

  I thought about calling or texting someone, but I knew my transmissions would be traced. So, I shut off my cell and took the extra step of unplugging the battery. I didn’t want to take any chances.

  Despite my best efforts, I heard a scuffle of footsteps outside my closet about forty minutes later.

  “In here,” said a voice.

  I steeled myself. Somehow I’d failed. Maybe they’d played back security camera files or questioned a nosy worker. It could have been anything, and it really didn’t matter what had gone wrong. They’d caught up to me.

  Manufacturing a smile and snapping open the door, I stepped outside in their midst like I owned the place.

  “Gentlemen,” I said, “I’ve been waiting. Shall we go?”

  They showed their teeth in anger. One of the plainclothes types, a brute with a crew-cut so tight it looked like it might bleed, jutted out his lower jaw. “You’re coming with us, Blake.”

  “That’s what I said—but can I call General Shaw, first?”

  The brute looked confused for a second.

  “That’s Admiral Shaw, Lieutenant,” the Navy man said. He was a black guy with a paunch, but he looked like he’d be tough in a fight. They all did.

  I turned to the Navy man. He was a Commander, which meant he outranked me.

  “Right... Of course, sir.”

  This exchange had given me a small amount of information. For one thing, Shaw was the man behind the scenes, pulling their strings. Apparently he really was an admiral—either that, or he was using that covering title with everyone. CIA stiffs often pretended to be officers in one service or another.

  I eyed the Commander. He seemed real enough. As a Navy man, would he really harm a fellow sailor? I wasn’t sure, but I felt certain I was going to find out.

  =4=

  They led me to the car I’d seen them drive up in. That had been damned near an hour ago, and I couldn’t help but feel proud I’d kept them running around the hospital for that long. It wasn’t even a large building.