Page 8 of Resolution
“I’m sure it was. I’m impressed.”
Tamsyn opened the door for her and Melly walked inside to greet her first patient of the day.
Chapter Three
Jeff reported to Captain Briskinn’s office promptly as ordered after he’d walked Melly and Tamsyn to the medical building. The other captain was cheerful as he sipped a cup of real coffee, not offering Jeff any. “The General has an open spot on his schedule this morning and he wants to meet you.”
“Does he do that with every new military member?” Jeff asked, surprised.
Briskinn shook his head. “Not one on one, not immediately after they arrive either. But your Special Forces background apparently intrigues him. We’d better get going, don’t want to be late.”
Briskinn led him through the corridor and up a flight of stairs, chatting the whole time, asking how Jeff and his wife were enjoying the camp so far as if it was a vacation retreat instead of an oasis of humanity literally in the middle of the infected. Jeff made conversation with the man but his mind was racing over the possible ramifications of General Quantike’s summons. He decided to use the persona he’d been assigned for his undercover mission, that of a disgruntled former military man who’d had it with the Sectors and sought life on the frontier. Along with what Cody had learned about the general’s own background when he hacked the systems at the deserted military base in New Damarkal, it seemed like the safest approach.
Entering the general’s office after an aide opened the door, Jeff gave a crisp salute to the man behind the desk. “Captain Jeff Pearson, Special Forces Team 12, retired, sir, reporting as ordered.”
“At ease, captain, glad to have you aboard.” The General was an imposing figure in fatigues. He was older than Jeff had expected, his face a bit jowly, his eyes tired but shrewd. He was beefy, as if he worked out but also enjoyed his food and feelgoods. The strange black bracelet was clipped to his wrist, flashing its subtle colors. He rose from the desk and walked over to the conference table. “Have a seat and let’s chat.”
Said the spider to the fly, Jeff thought, recalling an old children’s tale. He allowed Briskinn to precede him and then took the indicated seat across the table from the general.
“I’m curious, what brought you to Randal Four in the first place?” the general asked.
Squaring his shoulders, Jeff prepared to launch into his cover spiel. “May I be frank, sir?”
The general nodded.
“I was a loyal soldier my entire career and then things went sideways on my last mission and the upper echelon pencil pushers hung me and my men out to dry. Blamed us for what was a failure of the elements supporting us. A senior admiral’s screwup son had to be protected. I resigned in disgust and started hunting for a place where men like me were more appreciated than a rich kid Inner Sector no nothing who got good people killed. Randal Four was appealing, seemed like there was room for a man to carve his own path as a rancher. Good values, good people and the right approach to things. Far enough away from the core of the Sectors to be free to live as I wanted.” He put a rueful grin on his face. “Of course then the wife and I landed and found ourselves in the middle of the infected apocalypse and it became an obstacle course to survive.”
“I understand your wife’s a doctor? Where did the two of you meet?”
“On the last leg of my flight out here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie—they’d met after the robo shuttle dropped them off. Jeff gave an artless shrug. “Never expected to fall in love at first glance but it is what it is. Got married on the ship.” He thanked the Lords of Space for the planet’s infrastructure being down and there being no communication offworld. At least General Quantike couldn’t check any of the elements of his story.
“And is your wife expecting yet?” the general asked.
Not having anticipated this line of questioning, Jeff was taken aback. “I don’t believe so, sir. Having babies wasn’t exactly on our minds as we were running from the infected.”
“Well you’re here and safe now,” Captain Briskinn said in a soothing tone. “Children are the future.”
Having no idea why the conversation was going off on this tangent, Jeff muttered, “Yes, sir,” and waited to see what topic would be next.
“Why Glastine?” the general asked, leaning back and linking his fingers over his slight paunch.
“I heard from other refugees we met that it was run by the military. I figured it’d be squared away, run properly…a place I could be useful and have people I’d trust watching my six.”
The general made approving sounds as if he was accepting a personal accolade. “And what’s your opinion so far?”
“Absolutely delighted to be here, sir. Captain Briskinn got us set up with military housing and everything I’ve seen so far exceeds expectations.” He leaned a bit closer. “And the chow is excellent compared to what we could scavenge out there.”
All three men chuckled a bit.
“Did you go through Millersville?” was the next question.
“Yes, sir, but I didn’t see much of the place. They have a tight corridor they run refugees through.”
“You weren’t tempted to stay there?”
“No, sir, civilian chaos doesn’t appeal to me.” He flashed a grin. “They did ask.”
Now the general sat forward. “I’m sure they did. You have a unique skill set, captain. I’ve been pondering bringing the good people of Millersville on board here actually. We can do a much better job of protecting them and ensuring their survival than they can manage on their own. My first offer was rejected out of hand by their mayor. Man has an overly inflated opinion of himself and his ragtag militia.”
