0300 Book 2 - 9. Chapter 9: Task Force Rift

Chapter 9: Task Force Rift

“Sir, they were put under your command,” the XO said. His voice was a whisper. “Their orders were to guard the rift, admit shuttles whose IFF passed fleet screening criteria, and stop, board, and inspect any other ships. There haven’t been any other ships. The captain of the Charleston started electronic surveillance as a matter of procedure. They were the first on station.”

Damn Admiral Davis, anyway. He didn’t tell me, and I really don’t think I should have figured it out on my own. I’ll worry about this, later.

“Comm-O? Code and send this, please. For Task Force Rift—list the ships—maintain surveillance per original orders. Continue electronic intelligence gathering and other passive measures that do not involve entering the rift. Add my signature, and the reports we’ve sent from here to Admiral Davis. Classify the reports for Command Eyes Only. Info the Admiral on this message, but don’t address it to him—just a cc.” That’ll let him know I know, and that I’m pissed.

“And then, let’s see those televisor images.”

The images were black and white, and grainy. When asked later about their quality, Artie said that was about normal. There were still photos of the shuttles from Universe 2, but they’d been doctored. Each of the shuttles now bore the numbers “666.” The numbers were much more clear than the shuttles, themselves. The audio was scratchy, but we understood it: these were the angels of Satan who had attacked the Army of the Righteous and taken to Hell those who opposed the righteous, blah, blah, blah. It wasn’t anything but propaganda.

“Six-six-six is the number of the beast,” Artie explained. “It’s the number that will be branded on the forehead of those who serve Satan, and who will be cast into the pit of fire.”

“Well, that tells us what they want their people to believe, but not necessarily what they believe,” George said.

“It’s easier to blame fictional enemies than explain something they don’t understand,” Danny said. “And, the early Christian religion was built on the myth of martyrs and persecution. They’ll turn this into a rallying cry for support, solidarity, and sacrifice.”

“Jonathan,” I looked at the Comm-O. “Ask Task Force Rift to send intell summaries to Fleet and to the Hope. Classified Top Secret. Send raw data to gwgteam@fleethq.gov. That’s a secure address, and they’re cleared. I want to know what these people are saying to their initiates, the others in their power structure, and their army as well as to their counterparts elsewhere in the world.

“I want every possible passive tool of analysis turned onto the rift.”

“Everyone: Give intel to Kevin. He is now head of the intel team which includes Danny, George, Casey, and Artie. You five prepare a summary plus a list of questions we need to answer. Let’s see whatever you have at our 1300 meeting.

“Quartermaster, everything okay on your end?”

“We’re okay, now, sir.” There was something in the way he said, now that caught my attention.

“Was there a problem?”

“The guy in charge at Fleet, a Captain Suggs, didn’t want to release some of the medical nanobytes to treat the burn victims. Claimed he had to maintain stock for an emergency.

“I told him this was the emergency he’d been waiting for. He didn’t buy it, sir. I told him Red One. He didn’t buy that, either. So, I sent him some pictures.”

“Pictures?” I raised my eyebrow.

“Corey’s people got some good hi-def images of the battlefield, sir. I sent him some of those. He called back in less than five minutes. He was green. The supplies arrived, and he was aboard the supply tender, and helped unload. And apologized.”

“Did you, at any time, tell Captain Suggs that you were operating under my orders? Did you mention my name?”

The kid blanched. “Uh . . .no, sir.”

“Good.” I said. The kid brightened, but still looked a little puzzled. “That’s the way it’s supposed to be.

“This is for all of you. You do your jobs, you get done what needs to be done, and I will back you, fully. Never tell anyone, the captain said… When I give you an order, I also give you the authority to carry it out. You are then to act on your own, and do what has to be done. Questions?”

There were none. I was so proud of them.

“Corey, I want to talk to you in as soon as this meeting is over. Does anyone have anything that would be of interest to everyone? If not, I’ll take your reports individually from the bridge, later.”

* * * * *

“Corey, thank you for staying,” I said after the others had left.

“You’re too nice,” Corey said. “My people and I, we’re lost in your universe. We depend on you for everything, and you say thank you to me?”

“Corey,” I said. “May I have a hug?”

“Huh? Where did that come from?”

“Corey, I see a boy who has been given a burden heavier than any boy I’ve ever known. I see a boy who is supporting that burden by the dint of his will and his love for his people . . . his brothers. I’m so impressed by your strength, I want to hold you tightly in the hopes that some will rub off on me.”

The boy’s eyes brightened. He knew I was exaggerating, maybe even lying a little, but he came into my arms anyway. The hug was as good as any I’d ever had.

“Thanks, Paul, I did need that,” Corey said. He wiped a tear from his eyes, and then smiled. “You’re pretty special, you know?”

“Thank you, Corey. “That was a great hug. And, you’re pretty special, yourself.

“Want a donut?” The mess steward had replenished the supply.

The boy giggled. “No, thanks. Um, why did you want to talk to me in private?”

“Only because the others have their own jobs, and quite enough to do for the moment,” I said. “I promised to help you and your people. First, are they being taken care of? How is their morale?”

“The little ones are scared, and miss their adult mommies and daddies, grandparents, aunts and uncles. The older ones realize that we’re cut off from our world, and are scared. Yeah, that’s everybody. We’re all scared.

“Your people, they won’t let us back into the rift to see if the rift to our universe has opened.”

“A science ship, the Isaac Newton, is approaching the rift,” I said. “They have a team that understands rifts between universes. They’ve been looking at rifts and alternate universes for years.”

I was glad I had done my homework on the CERN-Higgs assignment.

“The Newton and the science team will start active searches. They’ll have robotic drones in the Fundamentalist Universe to search for a rift to your universe. If it’s there, they’ll let us know. The next step will be to put satellites with electronic, imagery, and rift sensors in ball-of-string orbits over the Fundamentalists’ Earth.

“Your technology is different from ours. You have FTL space flight; we do not. You have hand energy weapons, those fazers, that are different from any we know. On the other hand, we have some things you don’t have. We understand the rifts, and we can detect and measure the radiation created by them.

“We’ve never been called upon to create a rift; however, there are people working on that problem.

“Corey, we will find your home, and a way to get you there.”

“Paul? Can I have a hug?” Corey asked.

“Now, where did that come from,” I teased.

Corey smiled to acknowledge the tease, and then sobered. “Paul, I see a guy who is willing to make an entire universe jump through hoops just to get my people and me home. I see courage and smarts, and I want some of that to rub off on me.” The boy grinned. It was another exceptional hug.

“There’s one more thing,” I said. “You’re not quite sure about my relationship with Danny and George. It’s partly the age difference; let’s get rid of that, right away.”

I pushed, and Corey’s eyes widened. “You’re . . . you’re hardly older than I am!”

Yes, and I have put my life and that of my sons in your hands. It is a measure of the trust I feel for you. Will you accept that trust and keep our secret? I asked.

Corey nodded, and I felt his affirmation form in my mind. I had expected it, but still was relieved.

“Now, I said. “There’s still the facts that there are three of us, and that Danny and George are my sons.”

Corey thought for a minute. “Three of my brothers are in a polygamous relationship. There’s no reason they shouldn’t be happy with one another.

“I guess it’s just that you’re their dad, and I don’t know anyone . . . .” His face turned red.

“Anyone who is having an incestuous relationship like that?”

“Um, actually, some of my adopted family were. But they had been forced by fathers, uncles, older brothers. We rescued them.”

“Forced relationships. You know I would never force Danny and George, don’t you?”

Corey nodded. “I guess that’s it. I associated incest with force, rape.”

“Corey, if someone were to rape a child, any child, and I knew about it, he or she wouldn’t live long enough to plead.

“In our world, at least the large part of it which is governed by Fleet, the only restrictions on sexual relationships is that there be no force, and that all participants be mentally mature enough to know what they’re doing. That applies across the board. Incest is not much more than a word in the dictionary.”

I pushed, and let Corey see how I felt. Then, I opened to him my feelings about Danny and George, and the rest of my team.

Corey blushed. Apparently he’d picked up a sideband. I closed my mind. “Sorry, I didn’t want you to see anything but the love.”

“It’s okay,” Corey said. He grinned. “Alex and I do that, too.”

“But now there’s something else,” Corey said. “You’re commanding this fleet, but all the other senior officers, they’re years older than you are. And, other than you and George and Danny, there’re no telepaths on this ship, as far as I have figured out.”

“I gather that telepathy isn’t all that unusual on your world?” I asked, mostly to give myself time to think.

“Maybe one in a hundred persons,” Corey said.

“And when people first discovered that there were telepaths, how did other people react?” I asked.

“Witch hunts,” Corey said. “They were hunted, killed . . . oh, I see.”

“Corey, rather than one in a hundred, our telepaths may be one in a hundred million, and we haven’t actually reached that number, yet. George and Danny and I are not only telepathic, we also are surrounded with a mental shield that keeps people, most people, from wondering why there’s a Fleet Captain who is as young as I am, and why his security detail are a couple of heavily armed 14-year-olds.

“A bunch of my people are telepaths,” he said. “They are trained and sworn not to reveal what they learn except in a court.”

He saw my surprise, and added, “Our courts accept as binding telepathic testimony.” Then he continued. “I will remind them not to reveal what they may learn about you and Danny and George, although I don’t think it would really be necessary.”

“Probably not,” I said, and then smiled. “Still, it would make me feel a lot better about the safety of the boys I love.”

By 1100, I was sitting in the Captain’s chair. A susurrus of voices from the bridge crew nearly blocked the buzz of my communicator. I caught it, though.

“Stewart,” I said.

“The Newton and the people from CERN-Higgs are on station.” It was Admiral Davis’s voice. “When are you going to tell me what you’re planning, Paul?”

I was ready for this. “Right now, sir. First, we should make sure we can protect our universe from anything that might come through the rift from the Fundamentalist Universe. I consider their capabilities to attack us to be low and the forces we have on station to be adequate. Still, we need to be sure. We will continue and expand intelligence gathering.

“Second, we must find a way to return the people from Universe 2 to their own universe. This may involve creating a rift through which they can travel. That rift may be a permanent structure; there are political ramifications that only you can deal with.

“Third, we should find out all we can about the U-2 technology, including FTL space flight. There may be negotiations leading to concessions that only you can make. I’ll keep you informed.

“Fourth, we should figure out what we can do about the Fundamentalists. That’s going to be another political decision, not a technical one, sir. Still, we must help the kids from that universe, and provide homes for them or return them to the battlefield if they so wish.

“Finally, somewhere along the line, we should establish diplomatic relationships with U2 and the right people in U1.”

The Admiral replied instantly. “Sounds like you have a handle on it, Commodore. Davis out.”

I shut down the communicator and stared at nothing for a moment. I’d just been promoted. No, that didn’t get past me. I stayed in the seat only long enough to order the Hope assigned to Task Force Rift, and the shuttlecraft Carl Sagan and its crew assigned to me, personally. Then I stood up. “XO? Command team meeting in five minutes. Everyone, no exceptions.” I stood from my chair and headed for the briefing room.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice. At 1107 Zulu, the Command Team was dissolved.”

I deliberately hesitated, just long enough for it to sink in, but not so long that anyone would get too pissed off.

“As of that time, you are the Flag Team. Danny? I know you have been carrying around a pair of stars for me. Still have them?”

Danny blushed, and reached into one of the pouches of his utility belt. “Still got ’em, Commodore.” Several of the others gasped as they realized what that meant.

Danny and George removed the triple diamonds from my collar, and pinned on the stars. Normally, we don’t do PDA—public display of affection. We made an exception, and I accepted a kiss from each of them.

“You’ve maybe heard that a rising tide lifts all boats. It’s an old Navy tradition, and a good one. Junior Cadets; you are now Cadets. Cadets? You’re now Ensigns. Ensigns, you’re Lieutenants (j.g.). Jeff, you are now a Lieutenant—of the line. Artie, you are a Colonel. You would honor me if you would accept that commission as Colonel Artie Stewart, and take my name as my son.” That was what I had talked to Danny and George about, last night and George had been up at 0300 to talk to the rest of the GWGs. Danny and George were happy to be getting a new brother, and understood why I wouldn’t do sex stuff with him. I couldn’t say the same for the two of them, but that was cool.

Artie gasped and then grinned and nodded his head. The violations of the “no PDA” rule involved everyone in the room. Artie reeled from hugs and kisses.

“Corey, you’re already a Captain. I’m not sure I could promote you, anyway.” Corey nodded.

“Jeff?” I addressed the XO. “We’ll have a pinning on ceremony for everyone at 1500 on the main flight deck. After that, the Flag Team will depart for the Charleston. You will stay here.”

Again, I paused exactly long enough. Damn, I loved it! “Jeff, you will assume command of the Hope. You’ll wear lieutenant’s bars, but will be called Captain. You’ll need a new Comm-O and Quartermaster; I’m taking Jonathan and Avery with me. Any questions?”

Jeff’s eyes lit up. “No, sir. I know just who to replace them. They’re both Cadets, but experienced.”

I answered his unspoken question.

“Yes, you may promote them to ensign. Sign the order, yourself, and dare anyone to complain.” Jeff nodded.

“Jonathan? Notify the Charleston that I will be moving my flag there at 1530 hours.

“George, pass on the news and the promotions to the rest of the team.

“Well, don’t you all have things to do?”

There was enough room for us in Kevin and Casey’s shuttle. The captain of the Charleston and several of his staff were waiting on the flight deck. I stepped from the Carl Sagan, and saluted the captain. “Permission to come aboard, sir.”

The captain returned my salute. “Welcome aboard, sir. I’m Captain Moultrie.” My staff lined up behind me for introductions.

“Intelligence Team Chief and Flag Pilot, Lieutenant (j.g.) Cathcart and his boyfriend, intel team and pilot, Ensign Freeman.”

(Yeah, I’d figured out Kevin and Casey. After they’d kissed Artie earlier in the afternoon, they’d sneaked in a most serious kiss of their own. Well, they thought they’d sneaked it in. George saw it, and relayed it to me. He also told me he’d felt them, strongly. It would soon be time to wake them, if they didn’t wake themselves.)

“Commanding my security detail are my sons, Ensign Stewart and his boyfriend Ensign Stewart-Rogers. They are both on the intel team; Flag Comm, Ensign Hanson; Ensign Hamlin, Flag Quartermaster; my adopted son and commander of forces from the Fundamentalist Universe, Colonel Artie Stewart; the commander of Clan Long and commander of the forces from Universe 2, Captain Corey Long; Lieutenant Carter, Universe 2 second-in-command and Corey’s boyfriend.”

I watched the captain closely, and was pleased to see that he didn’t flinch when I announced the relationships. There were still some people who were a little old fashioned about boyfriends serving in subordinate relationships. I was even happier when he introduced his people.

“Commodore, this is my son, Cadet Andrew Moultrie and his boyfriend, Cadet Daffyd Llewellyn. My XO, Lieutenant . . . .” The names rolled on.

“If you agree, Andy and Daffyd will take your folks in hand and show them to quarters while I show you to the flag bridge.”

It was a reasonable offer, so I accepted.

The Flag Bridge was a duplicate of the main bridge with extra comm consoles and tactical displays, but without helm or weapons controls. It overlooked the main bridge through a huge window. Behind it were a large conference room, a ready room, and quarters for the flag. That was me. Okay, that was I. There was also a separate dining room, the Flag Mess, which could handle a breakfast or a banquet. The Hope was big; this ship was huge!

I invited the captain to join me for coffee. The mess steward wore a white linen jacket over his uniform. The coffee was excellent.

“Captain, you’ve had a chance to read my reports to Fleet. They are complete with one exception—a new development.

“You know that the Science Ship Sir Isaac Newton has arrived on station. They have been reinforced with a team from the CERN-Higgs Project, and have begun probing the rift and the universe beyond it. They’re using drones and satellites. Sensors will include elint, sigint, and imint, as well as sensors especially tuned to rift energy signatures.

“One problem we will face is that the people in Universe 1 don’t use a lot of radio-frequency communications. Elint and sigint will be spotty, at best. Their culture is different enough that we would have difficulty inserting humint resources anytime soon. Their society is primitive; imint may be of limited use. Intelligence is going to be the long pole in the tent.

“The rift between us and U-1 has remained open and apparently unchanged. It may be stable. We also believe that U-1 does not have space flight or suborbital capability. We don’t know for sure, though. The Muslims or the Pan-Asian Hegemony may be more advanced than the Reverends. Someone could lob a thermonuclear device through the rift into our universe.

“Bottom line, I think we’re here for the long haul; I think we need to be vigilant until we learn a great deal more. We will continue and expand intelligence collection and analysis.

“I want to do several other things. First, integrate my team with your people; second, host brainstorming sessions with the captains of the rest of Task Force Rift and their teams; third, begin planning for an invasion of Universe 1.”

I had managed to startle the captain. “Do you really think—invasion?” he said.

“I think we must be prepared,” I said. “Besides,” I grinned and parroted a saying that was as old as soldiering. “It’s the only war we’ve got.”

A chime announced someone outside my ready room. Danny was on duty. He told me who the visitor was, and that he was upset. The door hissed. Jonathan, my Comm-O stood in the doorway. Now, I could feel his unease, and some animosity toward Danny.

“Come in Jonathan, have a seat.” I moved from my desk to the couch, and gestured for him to sit beside me.

“What’s up?”

“Um, Commodore, uh, sir . . . ” He took a breath between each word.

I interrupted. “Jonathan, what you want to say isn’t fleet business, it’s personal business. Am I right?”

The boy blushed, and nodded.

“Then you are Jonathan, and I am Paul, and you may, if you want, forget our grades for the moment, okay?”

The boy nodded.

“Now, say what’s on your mind, please. Note that I said, please.”

He giggled. Yeah, he giggled. It was okay. He was 12 years old.

“Paul . . . ” He paused, and smiled. “I sure like to say that. It makes my tummy tingle,” he said.

Uh, oh, I thought. Here it comes.

“Paul, I know that Danny and George are your boyfriends. How did you get two? And, if you have two, can’t you have three? Can I be your boyfriend, too? Can I do sex stuff with you?”

Nova sol! Being an avatar is not all it’s cracked up to be, I thought.

“Jonathan,” I paused. I can’t lie to him; I can’t give him false hope; I must keep him on my team, though. Is he ready for this?

“Jonathan, no. I won’t be your boyfriend, and I won’t have sex with you, no matter how much I would like to. And, yes, I would like to.

“Shhh.” I touched a finger to his lips to stop whatever he was about to say.

“You’re cute, you’re smart, you are more aware of yourself and what’s going on around you than 99.99% of people. You’re all anyone could want in a boyfriend or protégé. So are Danny and George, and I’ve already bonded with them.

“Jonathan, I will not be your boyfriend, but, if you agree, I will give you something in its place. It will be something just as good, maybe better. I will tell you something that if you tell it to the wrong people, you will die. Do you want to know it? Think hard. I’m not kidding; I’m not exaggerating.”

The boy looked at me. I felt him thinking about what I’d said. I monitored. After a couple of minutes of serious thought, he answered.

“Paul, I want to love you and I want to be your boyfriend. You said you won’t do that, but that you want to give me something that’s just as good? I believe you about the good part and about the dying part, and I still want to know what it is. Even though you won’t be my boyfriend, I will open my heart to you.”

“Very well,” I said. “Will you swear to tell no one what you are about to learn? Will you swear that your first loyalty is to the human race, that your second is to Fleet, that your third is to your brothers?”

Jonathan opened his mouth. I think he was going to say he didn’t have any brothers. He nodded. “Yes. I swear.” I locked that oath in his mind.

“Jonathan, think about this. How many twelve-year-old Flag Communications Officers are there in Fleet?”

“Huh?” The boy looked puzzled. Then, it happened. He brushed aside the veil. “Me. I’m the only one.” It was a whisper.

“How many fourteen-year-old Ensigns are there who command a security detail and run around with enough firepower to take out an army?”

“Danny and George. There’s no one else.” It was another whisper.

“How many Commodores my age are there in Fleet?”

“You.” He’d stopped whispering. His eyes brightened; so did his mind.

“It’s something different, something powerful. Something, something wonderful! Are you telling me I’m part of it?”

“You are part of it, Jonathan,” I said. “We—you and I, George and Danny—are different. All the members of my security detail and the Flag Team are, too; they don’t all quite know it. Some of them are still growing into that knowledge. You mustn’t say anything to them. You know it about yourself, now. You need to grow into that knowledge, too.”

“Jonathan, until we can link you with someone to be your mentor, I will do that. I want you to have the same kind of happiness that Danny and George and I share. But it cannot be with me. There are other boys, though, who don’t have a boyfriend. Avery comes to mind. Avery is one of us, but he doesn’t know it, yet, so you mustn’t tell him anything. Why don’t you ask him on a date, and see how you get along?”

Jonathan looked startled. Then he blushed. “He’s two years older, and . . . ” He’d obviously thought of this, before.

“Between 12 and 14, there are more years than two, huh? How about between 10 and 16? That was our ages when Danny asked me. If Danny could ask me, you can ask Avery, can’t you?”

Jonathan nodded. “Yeah, I can. I truly can. And, I guess I understand why you won’t do sex stuff with me.” He giggled. “Do you all three . . . ?”

His face became a stone mask. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

I didn’t want to blow off the question; I wasn’t sure I wanted to answer it, either. But, I had to say something.

“Jonathan, if you ever have questions about sex, what not to do, what to do, how to make your partner feel as good as you do, how to be careful, stuff like that, you may ask me. That’s part of my responsibility. Danny and George will talk to you about that, too. I’ll let them know. Always feel free to ask them questions. But what Danny and George and I do? That’s a little too personal. Besides, it’s not often that the three of us are together like that, and when we are, it’s usually just cuddles.” George and I make a ‘Danny sandwich.’ He’s the littlest, and had a tough childhood. He likes the feeling of security he gets when we hold him between us. I was careful to block this thought. Not anyone’s business.

“Huh?”

“Danny and George have duties, and they’re serious about duty, and they’re serious about protecting me. I couldn’t love them more than I do, but when I see them in utility uniform, armed to the teeth, going off to make sure that I’m safe, ready to sacrifice themselves . . . ” I couldn’t continue that thought.

“The security team is on duty 24-hours. Danny and George are often on duty at different times of the day, and different from when I’m on duty. So, except for staff meetings, the three of us don’t have much time together. When we do, it’s very private.”

Jonathan nodded. He pecked a kiss on my cheek and left before I could even register it.

Artie was another frequent and private visitor. No, we didn’t do sex stuff, but we did talk about it, a lot. It took a while, but eventually Artie opened his heart and mind to me, and seemed to feel as if he could talk about anything. His biggest concern was the difference between sex with love and what the Reverends had done to him.

“The Reverends, they’d fuck me like they wanted to hurt me. Some of them did hurt me, slap me, punch me. A couple whipped me with their belts. Why would they do that?”

“When they fucked you, did they look in your face?”

“Huh?”

“Did they do it from the front, so that they could look in your face, or always from the back?”

“Um, almost always from the back. There were a couple who did it from the front, but they always made me keep my eyes closed. If they saw me open my eyes, they’d slap me silly. Why?”

“Because they knew what they were doing was wrong. Because they were ashamed of what they were doing. Because they hated their own weakness, and took out that hatred on you.”