Chapter 14
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An hour and fifteen minutes later, I was asleep in my chair.
Another hour-and-a-half went by before I woke up again, lying on the
floor. My back was sore and my arm had fallen asleep, and I didn't feel
like doing much of anything but rolling over, but someone was knock-knock-knocking
at my chamber door. <God, I hope it's not a raven. I've been dreaming
about ravens,> I thought as I pulled myself up by my desk. As my eyes
passed by my terminal screen, the screen saver had kicked in, and was bouncing
a picture around the screen: the cartoon character that I had pulled out
of Thallin's file. I stood up the rest of the way and staggered over to
my office door. I leaned against it
for a moment, trying to remember something I had forgotten, and then
opened it.
It was a man, younger than I, wearing a technician's uniform.
I mumbled, "You're not a raven..." and closed the door in his face.
Then, leaning against the door, I sighed, "Nevermore."
A minute later, my mind suddenly snapped into gear. "What did I just
do?" I asked myself. "I can't believe it... I wonder who that was." I pondered
over such mysteries of life as I wandered into my quarters behind my office
to change out of my uniform and into some civilian clothes: blue jeans,
tennis shoes, red T-shirt with some rock band's slogan across it, and my
favourite leather flight jacket. I was digging through my clothes chest
for my scarf when someone knocked on the outer door. I yelled out, "Come
on in! It's not locked."
I heard the door open and I heard a familiar voice say, "You wanted
to see me, Lieutenant Landers?"
<Ooops. That's what I forgot,> I thought, grabbing my scarf
from the chest. I called out, "I'll be just a second." Then I closed the
chest and my closet, and walked into the front office. David Marshall was
standing by my desk, looking at a photograph I had left by my terminal.
It was the one I had acquired earlier today from Corporal Ditkins. He was
still wearing that wrinkled uniform, which was looking even worse. I walked
up to my desk and said, "She's in my squadron, Beta Wing."
Marshall looked up at me, his eyes showing confusion, saying, "She was
in your squadron? My condolences, Sir."
"Was? I mean she is in my squadron," I corrected him.
Now he looked even more confused. He said, "But, Sir, Christina Leeds
died in the battle at Macross. How can she be in your squadron?"
<Christina? What?> "No... That's Izabelle Fate, I just spoke
to her yesterday, and she was transferred to my squadron today."
We both looked at each other, then at the photograph. Which one of us
was right?
"You're saying that this is a picture of Christina Leeds, the pilot
from the Veritech you acquired on Macross Island?" I asked. Then I took
the picture and looked at the writing on the back, whispering, "Christina..."
"Yes, Sir. I found this photograph in the cockpit that day. I put it
into a pocket on her flight suit before I... 'landed' on the SDF-1."
"That's strange, because this picture looks exactly like one
of the officers in my squadron. Could you tell me what Christina looked
like when you found her?"
With a grimace, he replied with a description of a woman that exactly
fit Izabelle Fate, with the exception of the terrible wounds Christina
Leeds had taken. Then he pointed to the smeared blood that covered one
half of the picture, and continued, "This is her blood... I don't mean
to be crude about this, Sir, but she was definitely dead. The shrapnel
cut through her like a scythe. Nobody could survive that kind of..." Then
he paused, thinking.
"What's up, Marshall?" I asked.
"I was just thinking, Sir, about a woman I saw in the cafeteria yesterday.
She looked almost exactly like Christina, especially in the flight suit
she was wearing." He shuddered slightly; maybe at the memory, maybe something
else.
<This is sounding familiar...> "What was she buying? Did you
see?"
He looked at me oddly, probably because of my urgent tone, before saying,
"Ah, I'm not sure. I do remember one of the workers objected to a strange
request, but changed his tone when she flashed an I.D... something about
dietary supplements for a co-worker."
"Yes. That was Izabelle you saw. I heard she was accosted by another
woman while she was there. Do you know about that?"
Oddly, he smiled slightly at this question, looking thoughtful, he replied,
"Yes Sir. The other woman was Vanessa Leeds, Christina's sister. Vanessa
saw her and mistook her for Christina and became quite upset when she denied
it."
"That's almost exactly what I heard. Have you heard anything else about
her? About Christina or Izabelle?" <There has to be some connection...
Strange things are afoot, and I just might have stumbled onto a bigger
story than I thought.>
"Well, let me see..." He mused. "I know that Christina's body was identified
in the temporary clinic, but that's about it."
"Right," I said, thinking, <What am I forgetting? There's some
connection to all this, but I can't, for the life of me, remember what
it is.> "Well, that's enough on that subject, I guess. Now I want to
get down to what I originally asked you here for."
"I thought we had already covered that, Sir," he said, looking confused
again.
"No, not yet," I said, thinking, <How should I start this? I don't
want to sound like I'm bragging, but I can't think of any way...> "David,
before you found Christina's Veritech, you were running around the city
unprotected, right?"
"Well, sort of, Sir," he shrugged.
"I don't quite know how to say this without bragging, David... Do you
think my voice sounds familiar? Had you heard it sometime before I started
teaching your class?"
"Uh, I don't know Sir."
"Well, you do remember a skirmish that took place between a few battle
pods and a Veritech firing over your head, right? And do you remember the
missile volley that almost killed the both of us?" His eyes changed, slightly,
but I couldn't read his expression. "I picked you up off the street while
you were unconscious from the explosion and tried to bring you to the SDF-1,
but I was attacked by an officer's pod and had to put you down. You were
conscious by then, and ran off for cover, I suppose. After that, I didn't
see you again until much later, when I started my class. Do you remember?"
He smiled and said, "Yes. I remember. That was you, Sir?" I nodded and
he stuttered, "I don't quite know what to say, Sir... Thank you. I certainly
hope to return the favour some day."
I gave him a wry grin and said, "Let's hope you never have to, Marshall.
Let's hope you never have to. Well! That's taken care of. What do you say
we go grab a bite to eat, eh?"
He looked surprised and replied, "Well, I don't know. Aren't there rules
against fraternisation, Sir?"
"Who's gonna notice?" I asked. "I'm not in uniform, and I'm not especially
well known around here..." I paused, then added with a grin, "Yet."
He pondered this for a moment before answering, "I guess it would be
all right, then. Do you mind if I change out of my uniform, Sir?"
He glanced down at it, then looked back at me, blushing slightly. "I'd
like to clean up a bit first."
I grinned an Izi grin at him, nodding, "Of course. I'll even walk you
back to the barracks.
"Why would you walk me to the barracks, Sir? I'm in the berthing area
right around the corner."
"What do you mean? I got rooms in the barracks for you and the other
ranking personnel. You're supposed to be in room 112B... Didn't Sergeant
Malone show you?" I asked, getting a little upset. <He didn't...
The fucking bastard.>"No Sir. He told us we were bunking in the berthing
area. He mentioned his room in the barracks, though. Said it was
a privilege of rank."
I was fuming, but I tried not to show it. "Where is the Sergeant now?
I want to talk to him."
"He said he had some errands to run. He left us on the hangar deck with
an obnoxious technician. I haven't seen him since then."
"I know where he is," I breathed. "And I know where he's going to be
spending the rest of the month, too." I turned my gaze on David and snapped,
"Go find your wing man, Marshall. Let him know about this and take your
stuff to the barracks. Get set up and enjoy yourselves, but report back
to the ready room tomorrow morning, 0800 hours. We're on patrol tomorrow,
so make sure you're rested. Dismissed." I sat down in my chair and started
tapping furiously at the terminal keys. I think I heard him step through
the door and close it, but I was too busy being angry at Sergeant Jack
Malone.
Forward to Chapter 15.
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