Space corps retribution, p.14
Space Corps Retribution, page 14
A few steps later, the men stood in front of the man.
“Something tells me you already know why we’re here.”
Clearing his throat, the man rubbed his jaw with one hand and pulled the door closed with the other. “You’ll need a warrant. I can wait.”
“We’re not law enforcement.”
A smile crossed the man’s face, and he stood on the spot, taking a moment to grind the cigarette once more for good measure. “I should have known that. I don’t know any lawmen that trespass without a warrant. I guess it’s not worth the lawsuit. Why are you different?”
“Are you Payden Higgins?” Gibbs asked.
“Nah. I’m Lucas.”
Gibbs took a step closer to Lucas. Close enough to smell the smoke lingering on his breath. The commander winced at the smell, giving Lucas all the incentive he needed to reach into his pocket and pull out another cigarette.
“Officially, I don’t care what I see here,” Gibbs said, pulling a manila envelope from his bag. “You could have a meth lab, dead bodies, hookers. I don’t care. I’m here for national security, and I have this funny feeling—” He motioned to Harris. “Don’t you?”
Harris nodded with his arms crossed gently over his chest.
“I have this funny feeling you might be the man to help us.”
Smoke streamed into the commander’s face.
“You don’t want to do that,” Harris said.
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
Dropping the envelope to the man’s feet, Gibbs said, “Because I don’t care about you. I’m here for national security. People that help me tend to be glad they did. People that get in the way tend to find that I’m not as nice as law enforcement.”
“That right?” Lucas asked as he bent over to pick up the envelope. “We’ll see.”
He pulled out a picture of a recent mug shot of his brother.
“That’s my brother. A few weeks ago, we were out drinking. Guess we got in a car. I don’t remember much, to be honest. Next thing I knew, we woke up in the drunk tank at the sheriff’s office.”
The cigarette dropped from his lips, and he crushed it under his boot. Gibbs watched carefully as his hands shook while he pulled out another cigarette and attempted to light it. No matter how much he tried, the lighter wouldn’t hold a flame. Gibbs reached over, took it from him, and ignited a steady flame on the first try.
“Keep talking,” Gibbs said.
“What can I say?” Despite the lit cigarette, Lucas let it burn in his shaking hands while he talked. He looked down at it periodically but didn’t take another drag. “We did our time in county. He wasn’t right the whole time.”
“How do you mean?”
“I don’t know, man. It’s like he was there, but it wasn’t him anymore. He wouldn’t talk to me right, he couldn’t take care of himself, like brush his teeth or wipe his, well, you know.
“My mom took us home. Yelled and screamed the whole time, of course. Can’t say I blame her. I sat in the back of the truck apologizing. But Payden? Not a word. He opened his mouth a lot and licked his teeth. We assumed he got into some drugs.”
Gibbs pulled out a notepad and began writing. “Did he do that a lot?”
“No. He’d drink himself stupid, but he didn’t do anything worse than that. Mom kicked him out that night. She still hasn’t forgiven herself for it, because he hasn’t been back home since.”
“What about before all that?”
Looking down, the man saw that his cigarette no longer glowed. He looked over the field and then turned back to the house, opened the door, and motioned for the men to come inside.
They followed and found themselves in the kitchen. The walnut cabinets matched the wood paneling covering the room in both color and grain. Only the white appliances and the matching curtains and tablecloth, both with bright red cherries, gave any contrast.
No sooner did the men sit down before an old woman walked in wearing jeans and a plaid shirt, both of which were at least a size too small. She gave them a stern look, leaned into the refrigerator, and placed a half-eaten pie in front of them.
“Go on, now,” she said. “Get you a bite to eat.”
A small stack of plates and a few forks found their way to the table through Lucas, joined promptly by glasses of tea. Gibbs took a sip and winced.
“Sorry, but do you have any unsweet tea?” he asked.
“This is a sweet tea household. It’s that or water.”
Noticing the disapproving glare of the woman, Gibbs smiled and said, “Understood. This will do. Thank you.”
Lucas sat in an empty chair and placed his fists up to his chin, speaking through them. “If you’re here, I’m guessing you already know what I just told you, and I’m guessing you have a better theory on what actually happened.”
“No,” Gibbs said flatly. “We’re not here to convince you of what happened or what you saw. We need to know your story, and we need to know it as best you can tell it.”
27
“You know about the hog problem, right?”
Feigning interest, Gibbs nodded.
“Well, we’ve had some hogs tearing up the fields lately. It’s gotten real bad this last year. I guess a couple of hogs had some litters that we didn’t see for a while. By the time we started taking care of it, they were pretty well settled in.”
The man explored the commander’s face, but he couldn’t glean anything from his clinical smile.
Lucas stood up and grabbed the plates away from the men. When they hit the sink, he heard the bottom dish break and cursed to himself, but sat back down on the table.
“Good thing is that we had a lot of good meat this year. We don’t even butcher the hogs right now. I’m not sure if it’s true, but I heard that if you leave the carcasses out to rot then it scares off the rest of ‘em. You think there’s any truth to that.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Gibbs said.
Gibbs stared at his notepad. His pen made neat circles in the air in anticipation of something to do, but the blank page stared back at him.
“It’s definitely not true,” Harris said. “It can definitely spread illness—”
A quick kick to the shin made him pause.
“Sorry. You were saying?”
Lucas looked between the two men and offered another cup of tea. Both declined, so he lowered his head and spoke into the table.
“We’ve taken care of most of the pigs around the house, but our fields keep still have damage, almost every morning. So, we decided we’d go out for the day and camp out on the far end of the property. On the way out, we saw a couple of sows. They were small and alone. Took them out without a problem and left the carcasses behind. I’m sure the vultures enjoyed that.
“Around noon we saw a big one. Maybe four hundred pounds? Payden lined up his shot.” Lucas perked up to act out the scene. “His first shot missed, but the hog noticed. He noticed and looked right at us. Then Payden shot off again. You won’t believe this, but that son of a bitch took a shot right to its skull and just shook it off like it was nothing.
“You know, at that point, I’m sitting here thinking that the thing is pissed and going to charge. So, I pulled out my pistol and got ready to run.”
“Did it charge?” Gibbs asked.
“Yeah, but just for a bit. I think it just wanted to scare us, or maybe Payden actually hurt him. I’m not sure. It ran up real fast, then broke off toward the woods. We followed it for a bit, but it’s like it just disappeared.”
Sitting up, Gibbs pushed away his pad of paper and stared at the man. “Don’t get me wrong. I like a good hunting story, but what does this have to do with your brother?”
“Well, we went to the far end of the property and camped out. We had a tent and everything. Nothing big and fancy, but nice enough. It was such a clear night that we decided we’d make a small fire and set up under the stars instead.”
“With a wild hog roaming around?” Gibbs asked.
“Sure, why not? We figured that if we didn’t surprise him in the woods, then he’d probably leave us alone. They don’t go around looking for a fight. We only kill ‘em because the meat’s good and they do a lot of damage. If they didn’t bother me, I’d let ‘em live. Hogs are pretty smart. Smarter than most dogs, at least.
“So, we’re lying there. The fire’s dying out, and we’re pretty lit at that point—”
“You were drinking?” Gibbs asked.
Lucas laughed and forced an awkward smile. “We didn’t think we’d be using the guns again that night. We figured we’d sleep it off before touching the guns again. We actually kept them in the tent to be safe.”
“You didn’t think you’d use them, meaning that you did?”
Lucas nodded.
“That sound we heard was a racoon. It’s not unusual for them to sneak up to a campsite at night and try to swipe some food. If they come at you when they see you moving around, there’s something wrong with it. And you know we have rabies around here, right?”
Standing again, Lucas took up acting out the scene again.
“Payden saw it first and he screams like a girl about it, so I jumped up. It took me a second to figure out what the hell was going on. I saw it running up to us and I dove into the tent, grabbed my pistol and took the shot. It went down like it was nothing.
“I’m still waking up and talking to Payden about the damn thing, but he didn’t answer me when I asked him about it. He’s just walking off toward the trees real slow. I watched him for a minute, thinking he’d see whatever it was that caught his eye, but he just kept walking.”
The commander grabbed his pen and hurried to jot down some notes as the man kept talking.
“I called out to him, and he turned around with his finger over his mouth. I kept my gun with me and we walked over to the trees. I was getting real nervous about the whole thing. Remember what I said about that hog? But Payden just kept on walking. He was curious. Too curious to be scared, I guess.
“There’s this little girl.” Lucas trailed off.
“Was something wrong with her?” Gibbs asked.
“No, not exactly,” Lucas said. “We couldn’t understand what she was doing out there, but she looked like she had been there for a while. I’m not always good with these things, but I’m pretty sure something was wrong with her. You know what I mean?”
Finishing more notes, Gibbs asked, “Like she was hurt?”
Lucas’s shoulders dropped. “No. Come on. You know what I mean.”
Neither Gibbs nor Harris said anything.
“He means she was retarded,” said the old woman.
“You don’t have to say it like that, Mom.” Turning back to the commander, he continued, “But, yeah, something was wrong with her. She wasn’t all there. You know how sometimes you can tell by looking at their face? Whatever it was, it was obvious. She was looking at this thing. It’s kind of hard to describe.”
“Do your best.”
“It was a little device on the ground. It had a lot of bright colors and hummed. We both walked up to it and watched it. The little girl was so focused on it that she didn’t even notice when we talked to her. Then it started changing shapes, and the colors changed faster. I told him not to, but Payden touched it.
“As soon as he did, the whole thing stopped and turned into a cylinder. Just like that, right in front of me. He picked it up, and the little girl started screaming.”
“Did she say anything?” Gibbs asked.
“No. I don’t know if she could actually talk or not. We tried to calm her down. We gave her the cylinder. We tried to hold her shoulders. Payden even tried singing to her, thinking that might help. I didn’t know anyone else was around until they pulled us both back and pinned us down. I couldn’t even get my gun out in time to do anything.”
“How many people?” Gibbs asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Try.”
“Five? Six?” Lucas sat down and looked out the window at a spot in the distance. “They weren’t rough with us, really. They just pulled us back and held us down. After that, I blacked out. I woke up a while later in a small room, tied up. I don’t know if I was on a table or what, but it was cold to the touch. There were bright lights everywhere, and these things, I guess they were people, they kept poking me and prodding me. I called out for my brother, but he never responded.”
“Was he in the room with you?” Gibbs asked.
Nodding, Lucas reached back and refilled his glass with water without leaving his seat. “At least I think he was. I couldn’t actually see him. I saw all these boxes on the wall and lots of light, but not much else.
“We blacked out again. When we woke up, we were back in the field, but our guns were gone.” The man’s expression changed from concern to bewilderment. “I really thought we must have just gotten too drunk. I hold my liquor well, but we all make mistakes sometimes. My brother, he just wasn’t quite there. We talked about what happened, but he didn’t want to believe it. He kept saying it must have been a dream.”
“Was it?”
“I don’t know,” Lucas said. “We went back and looked for tracks but didn’t find any. No footprints or anything like that. Maybe we weren’t looking in the right spot. I didn’t even find the racoon we shot. Maybe something else picked it up. Like I said, I just don’t know.”
The old woman stood and shouted, directing all her energy at her son. “And you just had to go drink again, didn’t you?”
“Mom, you’re the one that kicked us out of the house.”
“You lost your daddy’s guns. I told you to find them, not go into town and drink.”
“We wanted to see if anyone turned them in.” Lucas rolled his eyes and slammed his palms on the table.
“Why would anyone turn them into the county if you lost them on our land? You had to drive several miles into town.”
“I don’t know,” Lucas said, pushing his chair back. “So, we went drinking. We had too much. Sheriff’s office picked us up after. You know the rest. He’s been missing ever since.”
Gibbs and Harris shared a solemn glance. “Did he have his phone on him?”
28
Motivational posters lined the walls of the conference room. A spattering mess of beaches, forests, and mountains, all with similar trite sayings, stared at the man as he poured over his reports.
The high-level view of his schematics showed dozens of callouts and clarifications. That didn’t change as he flipped through the pages to show the details of the device.
When the door opened, Thomas Reynolds didn’t look up or acknowledge the entrant in any way.
“This really bothers you, doesn’t it?” Stephen said as he pulled out a chair, spun it around, and took his seat.
Reynolds kept flipping through the designs.
“I know it’s hard. And, look, I don’t want to dismiss how you’re feeling, but your goal—your stated objective—is to keep people safe. Project Hermes is one of the few that can really make that happen.” He paused and took a quick breath. “At least, in the private sector and on the scale that you’re used to.” When Reynolds didn’t respond, Stephen doubled down. “It’s like Ambassador Station. How many times has that helped keep your friends safe? The world? Project Hermes can do the same.”
Again, Reynolds remained silent, but he paused his reading.
“All right. Fine. Have it your way, mister glum. How are the designs?”
“They’ll work,” Reynolds said, barely above a whisper.
“So does a wheel. That doesn’t mean it wouldn’t benefit from a little tread. Maybe some better bearings. Hell, a nice logo can make a world of difference.”
“Cut the crap,” Reynolds said. “Tell me what you expect, and I’ll make it happen.”
“That’s the attitude! We’re here for a friendly chat with our sales team. Are you familiar with Just in Time Learning?”
“Vaguely.”
“Perfect! These guys need to go out and sell the product, but they don’t know much about it. You’re going to catch them up to speed. Easy, right?”
Reynolds rolled his eyes, and the director jumped up, shook him by the shoulders and ran to answer the knock at the door.
“Ladies and gentlemen, come on in,” Stephen said.
A team of eight people, all dressed casually in jeans and tee shirts, sauntered into the room and immediately made their way to the refrigerator in the corner. They deliberated for a bit about the virtues of the variety of drinks. Some worried about the calories, others about the production style, and one about the rarity of the drinks.
When they finally selected their beverages, they sat down, began drinking, and talked about their plans for lunch.
After looking everyone over, Reynolds asked, “Is this everyone?”
The director nodded, smiled, and turned off the light, allowing the projector the light up the room.
Images flashed on the screen that had slowly lowered from the ceiling. It showed images of devastation from tidal waves, floods, hurricanes, and ended with an artist’s rendition of an alien ship. Reynolds couldn’t help but notice the unnecessary protrusions around the ship that came across like horns.
“As most of you know, we’ve been working on Project Hermes. I’m sure all of you are painfully aware of the scramble by governments around the world to build defenses against the alien threat. Project Hermes hopes to alleviate some of these concerns by offering effective military solutions originating from the private sector.
“Because we don’t suffer from the same bureaucracy as our public-sector counterparts, we can be more agile in responding to evolving technologies. When we need an expert, we can hire one in an instant and put them right to work. The project defines our budget, not a politician’s desire to be re-elected.”
With the press of a button, Reynolds changed the picture to a blueprint of a ship.
A woman in the front shifted in her seat. “What’s that?”
Reynolds looked down at her and noticed a genuine interest in her eyes. As he spoke, excitement showed in his voice. “This is the Hornet, a prototype orbital fighter.”
