to grab hoses. Fian and I sprinted over to join them, and were each handed the end of a hose. Several people were already spraying white foam. I pulled up my suit hood and joined in.
‘Amaz!’ I yelled to Fian, as I tested the foam with my foot. ‘It’s already going solid.’
‘How big an area do we foam?’ he called back.
‘The big red semi-circle by this portal must be the crash zone. If Drago comes through on minimum power he should land well inside that.’
We kept spraying until the foam layer was waist high, and then the red hover sleds moved back to where a medical sled was waiting. Foaming up had been fun, but now I abruptly sobered up. A whole crowd of fighter pilots had gathered, but one group was standing slightly in front of the rest, with their impact suit hoods up and sealed.
I didn’t need to read the names on their suits. I knew who they were. That was shift 2, with Marlise in the centre. A couple of them were carrying laser cutting equipment similar to the laser guns I’d used myself on dig sites. If Drago crashed hard, his team were ready to get him out of the wreck fast, before anything exploded.
Fian and I waited among the crowd, while a siren sounded and an amplified voice made a completely unnecessary announcement. ‘Stand clear. Incoming emergency landing. Stand clear.’
The portal activated, and a battered black fighter with gold flashes came through, appeared to stall in midair, and plummeted downwards on to the foam. It bounced once, the dented cockpit creaked slowly open, and a figure stepped out.
‘Perfect crash, Drago!’ yelled a male voice, and everyone applauded as the medical team hurried to capture their prisoner.
13
It was Day Twenty-two and our part in the Alien Contact programme was almost over. Fian and I only had to sit through one last meeting, change out of our uniforms into civilian clothes, pack our things and head for the portal and normal life.
I had mixed feelings about that. Part of me wanted to stay here at the heart of events, living the Military life of my dreams, but most of me remembered those terrifying moments when the base was at war status and was pathetically eager to return to being an insignificant history student. I could stop spending my days play-acting the competent Military officer. I could stop spending my nights trapped in nightmares, where I was running through endless corridors littered with bodies, with the sound of explosions and screams around me, unable to find Fian.
Yes, it was cowardly of me, but I was glad to be running away. I wanted to forget all about the alien sphere, and leave the real Military professionals to safeguard the future of Earth and the whole of humanity.
Nia Stone was giving the Attack team report. ‘The meteor defence system triggered again today. This time we’d tracked the incoming piece of junk, so we were ready. The sphere scored a perfect hit, and our fighters were well outside the danger area. I think we can relax now.’
Colonel Torrek nodded. ‘We’ll continue to let the sphere deal with any random debris. It adds to our data on its weapons systems and targeting abilities.’
‘Medical team has just cleared Drago as fit for duty,’ continued Nia Stone. ‘I’d like to deal with the promotions difficulty, so I’ve got Drago and Marlise waiting outside.’
Colonel Torrek tapped the table display in front of him. ‘Major Tell Dramis, Captain Weldon, please join us.’
The two of them came into the room and saluted.
‘Captain Weldon, I’m happy to say your promotion has been confirmed.’ He handed her a set of insignia. ‘Congratulations, Major.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ said Marlise, obviously delighted.
Colonel Torrek turned to look at Drago. ‘Major Tell Dramis, Commander Stone recommended you for promotion. Unfortunately, Commander Leveque has put you on report since then for conduct unbecoming an officer.’
He glanced at Leveque. ‘Do I wish to know the details on that?’
Leveque shook his head. ‘I’m confident you don’t, sir. It was quite regrettable.’
Colonel Torrek seemed to be struggling to keep a straight face, so I was sure he knew perfectly well what had happened. The entire base did. I hadn’t been in the dining hall when Drago wandered in wearing only a smile, but I’d heard all about it afterwards.
Colonel Torrek turned his attention back to Drago. ‘According to your record, this is the third time you’ve missed out on your promotion due to being on report.’
Drago nodded cheerfully. ‘I’ve been a little unlucky, sir.’
‘If I may interrupt, Colonel?’ said Mason Leveque.
‘Please do.’
‘I’ve consulted with the Medical team leader, and apparently the unfortunate behaviour of Major Tell Dramis may have been due to his injuries when his fighter was damaged by the sphere. In a small proportion of cases, when an impact suit triggers to protect the wearer, the resulting blackout can cause periods of confusion and disorientation as much as a week later. Major Tell Dramis may have believed a hazard alarm had sounded, and was quite correctly ignoring nudity issues to change into a skintight and impact suit as fast as possible. I therefore wish to withdraw my complaint.’
Drago looked indignantly at Leveque. ‘You can’t do that!’
Leveque gave him a lazy smile. ‘It is my duty to reconsider a complaint in the light of new evidence.’
Colonel Torrek beamed at Drago and held out another set of insignia. ‘In that case, congratulations Commander. I recommend you don’t try playing games with a Threat team leader again.’
The look on Drago’s face as he accepted the insignia was too much. A quite unmilitary giggle escaped me.
‘Don’t take it so hard, Commander,’ continued Colonel Torrek. ‘Speaking from bitter personal experience of your clan, I’m sure that whatever rank you achieve, it will be impossible to keep you away from any action happening in the universe.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ said Drago gloomily.
Drago and Marlise left, and Mason Leveque gave the Threat team report.
‘We’ve now finished analysing the images provided by the History team. Feeding that data into our main statistical model, brings our current threat assessment down from 61 to 53 per cent.’
Colonel Torrek was obviously pleased to hear this, but I was just bewildered. ‘Really? I don’t see how it did that.’
Mason Leveque laughed. ‘The threat assessment is the product of combining multiple weighted probability zonal nets, Jarra. One of those probability zones relates to the possibility the aliens have visited Earth before, and the image analysis has lowered the probability of them being hostile in that scenario. That brings the overall threat assessment down to 53 per cent.’
He paused. ‘It’s now going to stay at that figure until one of three things happens. We find a way to communicate with the sphere, it does something unexpected, or we get a solar storm. If we get through a significant solar storm with no reaction from the sphere, threat assessment goes down to 38 per cent.’
‘I like the sound of 38,’ said Colonel Torrek, ‘but I’d prefer a way to communicate with the sphere.’
He turned to me and Fian. ‘Since the History team has completed its work, you’re now officially on civilian sabbatical status and can return to your class. We’ll send you regular status updates, and if you have any more ideas then contact me immediately. We’re running desperately short of things to try, and I want to hear any suggestions anyone has, however silly they seem.’
‘Yes, sir.’ I nodded at Fian, and we both stood and saluted. ‘Goodbye, sirs.’
‘We’ll meet again whatever happens,’ said Colonel Torrek. ‘I remain your commanding officer, and once the Alien Contact programme stands down I’ll discuss your future with you. I’ve created an administrative problem by promoting you when you haven’t been through the Military Academy, but we can fix that with an accelerated
