Blood Impulse

Part 8.4 - THE ODDS

Homebound Sector, Haven System, Flagship Olympia

Disheveled and rain-drenched, Colonel VanHubert's clothes dripped onto the hand-woven carpet as Reeter circled him like a vulture. "Let me get this straight," Reeter said, "You found her and then an active bystander promptly forced you to release her?" It was rare enough to find an active bystander these days, let alone one in the middle of an abandoned shipyard. Most people just went about their own business, uncaring of others.

VanHubert swallowed, but carefully maintained his posture at attention. "Yes, sir."

"She is a single woman with a seven-year-old son. How hard can it be to find and contain her properly?" Reeter clenched and unclenched his fist, debating whether or not to punch his second in command.

"We were interrupted, sir," the Colonel said, all too used to Reeter's physical threats. "A local intervened." This was the fourth time he had repeated the same sentence in a different way, hoping this time that it would please his superior.

"The dominant demographic of the region is lower-class farmers." Idiots with pitchforks and tractors. "Are you telling me a mud-blooded farmer was able to halt five highly trained Marines in their tracks and send them back to me with their tails between their legs?"

"It seems being difficult is in the national culture of Kansa, sir."

Admiral Reeter struck fast, a jab straight to the Colonel's gut. It was not a regulation punishment and Reeter did not care. "Do not bring him into this," he snarled.

VanHubert coughed violently as he doubled-over, trying to breathe as he struggled to remain standing. "The Fleet Admiral isn't the only difficult Kansan we know, sir. I seem to recall a soldier going AWOL about eight months ago from this very ship... He shared the same muddy heritage." It seemed Kansa sprouted murderers and traitors alike.

Reeter grabbed VanHubert's collar and hauled him forcibly back to eye level. "The Sergeant?"

"Maybe," VanHubert coughed, "I didn't see his face, but three of my men agreed it sounded just like him."

When he got this angry, there was an ugly twitch in Reeter's right eye. It was throbbing obviously now. He shoved VanHubert back, "Go contain Amelia to that moldy cabin where she has chosen to hide. And if the Sergeant reappears, arrest him for desertion of a military post. I'll be down to visit the surface tomorrow."

Reeter smoothed out his uniform, uncaring to hear VanHubert's wheezing continue in his presence. "You are dismissed," he said, walking back to his desk.

"Yes, sir." VanHubert saluted properly and left.

Sitting down, Reeter activated the holo-projector on his desk. He regarded the instantaneous reports of the Olympia's systems with moderate disinterest. The ship's computers were so advanced, the Olympia practically ran herself. He could not imagine the nightmarish workload that came from running a ship that was not so wonderfully modern. He simply did not have the required attention span for such misery.

"Charleston," she did not bother to announce her presence, appearing suddenly on the other side of his desk, "The Macaw has reported in."

"And?"

"It's gone." She hardened her piercing gaze. "The Singularity is gone."

"Order them to look again," Reeter said without looking up from the ship's status.

"They have located impact debris, but the ship itself is gone." It was not in pieces. It was just gone.