Chapter 12[] Lunch was uneventful. I had figured on catching some friends or students for conversation, but none were still eating. <Ah well. I'll just listen to other people talk, then.> There were only a few people still at lunch, so I parked myself next to a table full of enlisted guys. One of them said, "Did you guys hear 'bout the dame in the primary cafeteria this afternoon?" "Which one? They was a bunch of real nice ones dat I heard 'bout," another snickered. "Well, there were two, actually. One of 'em was a REAL looker. From the number of guys I've heard talkin 'bout her, I'd say she'd have to be the hottest piece 'o meat on this ship. Looked reaal nice in that flight suit o' hers." "Even better lookin' then Jan Morris?" "Oh yea." The guys paused for a moment to consider this. <You guys have got to be kidding me.>One of the others spoke up, "Hey, yea! I know the one yer talkin' about. Kinda tall, short brown hair, pilot type?" "That's the one. Did you see her?" The first asked excitedly. "Nah. Just a picture. One of my buddies from the med deck was passin' it around. I've also heard a few things here and there. Like the incident this afternoon. Didn't figure it was the same chick 'til now." Another asked, "What happened this afternoon?" "Well, this chick, the one we've been gabbin' about, walks into the mess hall downstairs. She's mindin' her own business and another one just starts screamin' at her, accusin' her of lyin'. Well, the first denies everything, and the second one breaks down, cryin'. Then, get this, the first one just walks off!" "That was cold." "Yea, I woulda at least tried to cheer her up before I took off." "Ooohoo. I know how I woulda cheered her up." The rest of the conversation degenerated below any level of understandability after this point, so I ignored them and finished my lunch. <Tall. Short brown hair. Pilot. Flight suit. That's got to be Izi. A photograph, eh? I wonder...>I broke from my thoughts as one of the guys excused himself from the table. It was the one who had mentioned the photograph. As he left the mess hall, I got up from my table and followed him out. He was heading down the hall, so I quickened my pace and caught up with him. "Excuse me," I said. He turned around and snapped, "What?" Then he noticed who I was and his tone changed somewhat, "Weelll, hellooo there." <Pig,> I thought, saying, "I heard you mention a photograph in the mess back there. Of a brunette pilot. I was wondering who might have that photograph now." "What's it to you, doll? She your sister?" he sneered, looking me over. "You've got the makin's for it." "Watch your tone, Private," I snapped. "She's a member of my squadron, and I would appreciate your cooperation." I was wearing my flight suit still, with my squadron markings and the CO patch. I think that he had just noticed the patch, because he swallowed, snapped to attention, and held a salute. "Err... Yes, Ma'am. Corporal Ditkins has it. He's in Medical section 32. He's the one who found it." "Thank you, Private. Dismissed," I said, stepping past him and walking down the hall. Checking my watch, I realised I didn't have time to head down to Medical, and I probably wouldn't be able to just walk in and push the Corporal around, either. I needed a legitimate reason for taking a look at that picture.
[] After the my time in the simulator was over, I went back to the Nighthawks berthing area to take another shower. The simulations weren't getting any easier, at least not with the difficulty levels I was programming them with. As it was, the enemy pods were reacting at 1.2 times actual speed, even if they weren't as smart. <Somehow, I'm going to have to get a more creative opponent to practice on,> I thought. My computer program had finished already. In fact, it had finished its run shortly after I had left it. The password was relatively simple, a name. <I wonder who 'Eve' is?> I pondered, sitting down. <Ah well, maybe I'll find out.>Sitting down, I brought up Thallin's file and entered the password, "Eve". I couldn't wait to see what sort of juicy details were kept in here. The screen blanked for a moment, calling the file into memory, and I waited. The screen popped up and my mouth fell open. "Damnit!" I screamed. "He knew I was coming, Damnit! Damnit! Damnit! Damnit! DAMNIT!" I pounded the desk with each expletive. On the screen was a female cartoon character, sticking out her tongue and pulling on an eyelid. Down below the picture were the words: "Better luck next time!"
[] The next afternoon, I was walking into Medical, Section #32, with an appointment to have my head looked at by Corporal Ditkins, a medical aide with just exactly the right amount of attitude problem that would get him stuck with such inconsequential things. <Sometimes I just can't believe my luck,> I thought, sitting down on a bench-turned-examiner's-table. Corporal Ditkins muttered under his breath about ranking systems and how stupid officers don't have a sense of humour as he checked me over for a concussion. "Your name is Ditkins, right? James Ditkins?" "Yeah... So?" He asked sourly. "I've heard your name around the ship," I said. He stopped. "What exactly have you heard?" he asked. "Was it good or bad?" "Neither, really. I just heard that you had a picture of a friend of mine," I said, sweetly, "One that I lost back in Macross." "Really?" He asked. "What'd she look like?" "Well, she's got brown hair, she's tall and she has blue eyes. Does that ring any bells?" "Yea. I know the one," he said, hesitantly. "I'll get the picture." He went over to a duffle bag in the corner and pulled a photograph from one of its pockets. When he came back, he handed the picture to me and asked, "Is that it?" The picture was badly creased and was stained with a few drops of blood, but I could still see the three people it had been taken of. Sure enough, there was Izabelle, standing in front of two older people. <Probably her parents,> I thought. The young lady in the picture looked slightly younger, her hair was a touch shorter, and she was wearing an RDF cadet's uniform, but it was definitely a picture of Izabelle. Turning it over, I saw, "Mom, Dad & Christina. Graduation Day, 10/05/08." written on it. <Christina... Who's Christina?> I thought. "Yeah. This is it," I said, standing up. I smiled at him and said, "Thanks," as I walked out the door. "Wait!" he yelled. "What about your examination?"
Forward to Chapter 13.
Return to the Kay Landers contents page.
|
|
Easy-find
|
