Impulse, page 3
part #12 of First Colony Series
Connor chuckled. “For you, my friend, I can confirm it.”
Nathan’s eyes gleamed. “It was you. So that’s why you didn’t want to know about the deployments.”
Connor recounted his role in the games.
“It’s not a bad idea to have a few stealth units out there to observe and whatnot.”
“It was fun. I haven’t done anything like that for a while.”
They were both quiet for a few moments.
“We need to talk about the future of the CDF,” Nathan said.
“What about it?”
“The security council would like us to consider reducing our numbers and maybe shuffle some things around,” Nathan replied.
“I can’t say I’m surprised to hear it. The colonial charter for the CDF hasn’t changed much since its inception.”
“You and Tobias were quite thorough with it.”
Connor chuckled. “We didn’t write it from scratch. I worked with a few people, and we drew from the NA Alliance of Old Earth for the framework. We adapted it to suit the colony, but we don’t need to change it all that much to reduce our numbers.”
Nathan nodded. “We’ve been operating on a wartime basis for a long time now, and that’s going to change.”
“The challenge comes with defining what a peacetime CDF should look like. What would our plans be if we suddenly needed to increase our numbers because of a threat like the Krake?”
“I’m reluctant to ask for input outside the CDF without having something in place to guide the conversation. I don’t want to give any opportunist much to work with,” Nathan said.
“I can get behind that,” Connor agreed.
“Good,” Nathan said. “We also need to consider continuity planning. Who steps up to take the reins if and when either of us retires?”
“Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Nathan shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, but we need to start grooming leaders for the future. And besides, maybe we don’t need to wear quite as many hats as we do to run the CDF.”
“What’s Savanah’s take on this?” Connor asked.
“She doesn’t want to run it.”
Connor pursed his lips a little. “I’m surprised.”
“So am I, but if my wife is anything, it’s decisive. We have a couple of colonels who I could see stepping up into a brigadier general’s role.”
“We do a good job of cross-training in respective fields, but there aren’t many who have competency in most of them.”
Nathan regarded him for a few moments. “They can’t all be Sean Quinn.”
Connor dipped his head once. “He’s held command posts in the infantry, spec ops, logistics and support, fleet engagement, intelligence, and research and development. But there’s just one thing.”
“He’s young. He’ll only be forty this year.”
“Hell, I was just a few years older than he is when I got here,” Connor replied.
Nathan considered it for a few moments. “He’s a strong candidate, but I don’t know if he’d be interested in the job. He’s a lot like you. He’d rather be out in the field doing something than running things.”
“True, but he could do it, and I know I’d sleep better if he were running things after our tenure is over.” Connor frowned for a second and shook his head.
“What?”
“I just had a thought. It’s stupid.”
Nathan finished his bourbon and set his glass down. “If there’s a time for stupid, it might as well be now.”
“There was a running joke about certain types of people. They were to be stored in a glass container with a sign that reads, ‘Break glass in times of war.’ It just popped into my head.”
“I see you’ve figured it out. That’s the other thing the Security Council wanted me to discuss with you.”
“Good luck with that.”
Nathan grinned. “Sean is definitely among the top tier of candidates, but something else we should consider is whether the candidates need exposure to all facets of the CDF in order to be a general. Sean’s exposure to them is rather unique because of his proximity to you.”
Connor inhaled deeply and held his breath for a few moments. “I understand what you’re saying, but we need to clearly define the qualifications so it’ll be easy for the Security Council to approve the candidates.”
“I’ll put together some thoughts on it, and between the two of us, we can get it pushed through a review process.”
Connor regarded Nathan for a few seconds. “Are you sure you’re not going to retire?”
“No. Maybe someday. What would you do if you retired?”
“I already retired once. It didn’t take,” Connor replied.
The average human lifespan was two hundred years, so there was plenty of time to have multiple careers. He’d joined the military on his eighteenth birthday and never looked back. It had always been part of who he was. It wasn’t until he got with Lenora that he’d even considered doing something else.
He shrugged. “I did enjoy exploring New Earth… Lenora’s influence.”
“Understood. Savanah and I were talking about it the other day. We could take on different roles in the CDF. That’s almost like having multiple careers.”
“Yeah, but you’re right. We need to expand the leadership so the CDF remains in good hands.”
“We’ll need to consider our roles in the CDF, too, so we don’t put ourselves out of a job,” Nathan said.
“As long as we don’t get swept to the side and forgotten.”
Connor, along with a lot of other good people, had created the Colonial Defense Force, though he was often credited as the founder. But in any event, the force had done its job, and it seemed as if the colony was finally being allowed to catch its breath and embrace a future without war.
3
Isaac hastened up the broad steps to the Biological Research Building at the Colonial Research Institute’s West Campus, and his shoulders brushed against the automatic doors with an embarrassing boom. He clenched his teeth, but the atrium was mostly clear. All remnants of the morning rush were gone but for the people loitering in the interior, waiting for later classes to begin.
Stomach quailing, he hastened across the atrium, heading toward the security checkpoint for the professional laboratory wing. When he reached the security desk, no one was sitting there, and he peered through the window. There was an unlocked holoscreen and a chair that was swiveled toward the rear door. Whoever had been on duty must have just stepped out.
Isaac leaned to the side, looking for someone in the offices beyond. “Hello,” he said, tapping on the security glass. “I need to get through. Hello!”
Nothing. No reply. No stirring from beyond. Silence.
He rolled his eyes and pounded on the glass. “Hello! I’m running late, and I need to get through. Is anyone there?”
He glanced toward the turnstile, realizing he could just hop across. No one would know. He peered down the corridor that led to the elevators, gave one last furtive glance at the empty security desk, and sighed explosively. Moving purposefully toward the turnstile, he then quickly backstepped.
“No,” he said, shoulders slumping a little. He was already late, and if he didn’t follow the security protocols, he’d be in even more trouble.
He brought up his personal holoscreen and checked the schedule to see who he’d be assisting today. After briefly navigating the overly helpful interface, he swore.
“Uh oh, looks like someone’s running late again,” a voice taunted from behind him.
Isaac spun around and saw Curtis Palmer’s smug grin, his wicked gaze gleefully soaking in Isaac’s distress. A small group of students flanked him. Isaac ignored them and looked back at the security desk. He couldn’t afford to screw this up.
“Late again. Townsend is not gonna like this,” Curtis said and glanced at his friends. “Remember the last lab assistant? They didn’t make it past three months.”
“Come on, man. This isn’t his fault. There’s no one working the desk.”
“Jordan, Jordan. There was someone here fifteen minutes ago,” Curtis replied.
Jordan rolled her eyes and looked at Isaac. “Don’t worry about it.”
Isaac kept peering through the security glass, hoping someone would come so he could be checked in.
Dr. Gerry Townsend was as ‘Type A’ as they came. He adhered to a rigid schedule and despised any and all deviations from it.
“Townsend isn’t even in his lab yet,” a girl said.
Isaac glanced at her but didn’t know who she was. “I know. I’m supposed to be setting it up before he gets there.”
Curtis laughed. “You guys don’t get it. I heard Townsend chewing out Diaz here last week. He’s already on probation. Isn’t that right?”
Isaac glared at the turnstile and longingly lifted his gaze to the elevators beyond. The others kept talking, but Isaac ignored them. If he waited there, Townsend would get him kicked out of his internship. He couldn’t lose his position, even if he had to bend the rules.
Isaac inhaled deeply through his nose, ran toward the turnstile, and hopped across as Curtis’s shouts echoed behind him. He raced toward the door to the stairway and slammed it open, then ran up the steps, taking them three at a time.
Winded and thighs burning with exertion, he yanked open the door to the ninth floor and peered down the corridor. Seeing no one, he ran. His shoes squeaked on the polished floor with the rapid, desperate cadence of someone running for their life. He barely slowed down to turn into the adjacent corridor. A door opened ahead and a long counter-grav cart entered the hallway. Lab equipment was precariously stacked atop it. Isaac jerked to the side, but his foot got snagged on the edge of the cart and he tumbled to the floor. He rolled a few times and stopped.
The cart wobbled, but then miraculously seemed to become still.
“Isaac! Oh my gosh, are you okay?”
He looked up and saw Julian’s blond-haired, slender form hastening toward him. Julian reached out a hand to help Isaac to his feet, but the lab equipment teetered to the side and began spilling to the floor. Julian rushed back toward the cart. Isaac joined him and began picking up stacks of storage kits.
“Thanks,” Julian said.
“The least I can do.” Isaac helped him restack the cart.
Julian snickered. “Careful or you’ll use your word allotment for the day.”
Isaac frowned. “Huh?”
“You’re normally pretty quiet. Go on, I got this. You look like you’ve got someplace you’ve gotta be.”
Isaac gave him a quick nod but slowed his pace down the corridor. He didn’t need to cause any more accidents.
He made it to the genetics lab and looked through the window at the dimly lit interior. Could Townsend be running late? Nope. He heard the geneticist’s voice echoing from farther down the corridor. He was close. He must have gotten called into a colleague’s office on his way to the lab.
Isaac entered his security access code and the door to the lab unlocked. The automatic lighting came on as he walked inside, and he quickly grabbed one of the lab coats from a peg and slipped on a pair of gloves. Heading straight for cold storage, he entered the retrieval code for Dr. Townsend’s scheduled experiments for the day.
Hearing Townsend’s voice from just beyond the door, Isaac hurriedly brought up the lab stations’ computer systems, but he wouldn’t have time to get the kits deployed to them.
The door opened and Dr. Townsend walked in.
“Come in, Ella. This is where you’ll be working today,” Townsend said.
He took a few steps into the room and stopped.
Isaac looked up. “Good morning, Dr. Townsend.”
Townsend’s critical gaze swept the area, and Isaac imagined him running up a tally of everything that was wrong with the day to that point. Right at the top of the list was a lab that wasn’t properly prepped for the day’s work.
Someone walked in behind him. “This is quite the lab, Dr. Townsend,” she said, and the geneticist looked at her and smiled pleasantly.
“Oh, I didn’t know someone was already in here. Hello, I’m Mariella Kingston.”
He nodded a little. “Isaac Diaz.”
Townsend arched an eyebrow. “Looks like you’re running a bit behind.”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry about that.”
Townsend’s eyes furrowed with consternation.
“I can help finish the prep here. Drs. Rostova and Solomon will be here shortly,” Mariella said.
She looked a year or two older than he was, and her eyes gleamed with competency, but Isaac tried not to let his gaze linger for long. She had long, dark hair and her skin was a medium olive tone that drew his gaze to her high cheekbones. She was beautiful, and it was enough to send out all the trouble signals in his brain. He needed to focus and stay on task.
“I appreciate that, Ella. I’m afraid the interns rotate through here every so often, and it can disrupt the workflow from time to time,” Dr. Townsend said.
A comlink chimed from the nearby wallscreen and Townsend walked over.
“Yes,” Townsend said.
A face appeared on the wallscreen. Isaac’s shoulders tightened as he recognized the security uniform of the man on the screen.
“Dr. Townsend, this is Marc from security. I believe one of your interns failed to follow the security check-in protocol for entering the research wing.”
Townsend’s eyes slid toward Isaac and narrowed.
Isaac’s shoulders slumped a little and he set down the sample tray he’d been carrying. “I’m sorry, Dr. Townsend. I was running a little late this morning.”
“Again?” Townsend said. “You were running late again?”
“I was, but there wasn’t anyone at the security desk, and I had to get up here to prep the lab before you got here.”
Townsend held up his hand and turned toward the wallscreen. “Marc, he’s here. I’m sorry about this. It won’t happen again.”
“Thank you, Dr. Townsend. We had a short birthday celebration this morning, and that’s why the desk was unattended for a few minutes. I’ll go ahead and note this in the log,” Marc replied.
“Perfectly understandable. I appreciate you bringing this to my attention. I’ll take care of it from here,” Townsend replied. The wallscreen went off and he turned his disapproving gaze toward Isaac. Biting his lower lip, he looked at Ella. “Ms. Kingston, would you excuse us for a few minutes? Perhaps you can check with Dr. Rostova.”
Mariella set the sample tray down on the counter. “Of course.”
Twin almond-colored eyes glanced toward Isaac, and she gave a sympathetic smile as she walked past him. He caught the sweet scent of honeysuckle with a little bit of jasmine. It was pleasant and reminded him of warm summer nights. Isaac resisted the urge to watch her leave, but he did inhale a little deeper.
The door hissed shut, and Dr. Townsend sighed heavily.
This is it. He’s going to kick me out of the internship, ending the terms of my probation with Field Ops and Security.
“Isaac,” Townsend began.
“Sir, I apologize for being late. It won’t happen again. Please don’t…”
Townsend pressed his lips together, forming a grim line. “This internship just isn’t working out.”
“Please don’t kick me out. I need this,” Isaac said.
Townsend regarded him for a few moments. “It’s not the end of the world, Mr. Diaz. There will be other opportunities for you out there—opportunities that don’t require adherence to a strict schedule and security protocols.”
Isaac shook his head. “I need to finish this.”
“I’m afraid it’s quite impossible—” Townsend said and stopped as a chair squeaked from one of the offices across the lab.
Isaac looked over at the office and frowned. He hadn’t known anyone was here.
A man walked out of the office, stretching his arms overhead and yawning. “Come on, Gerry. Give the kid a break. He was late. It’s not like he set the lab on fire.”
Townsend’s lips curled as if he’d smelt something foul. “Mr. Franklin,” he said in sharp, clipped tones.
The man had broad shoulders and dark, rumpled hair. His clothes looked as if he’d slept in them. “Agent Franklin.”
“Agent Franklin,” Townsend replied dryly.
Agent Franklin strode over to them and extended his hand toward Isaac. “Hunter Franklin.”
Isaac shook his hand. “Isaac Diaz.”
“Nice to meet you, Isaac,” he said and looked at Townsend. “Good, strong handshake. He’s a good kid. I hate that limp handshake crap some people use. Don’t you?” Hunter said and looked at Isaac.
Isaac nodded once.
Townsend set his tablet computer down on the counter and crossed his arms. “Why are you sleeping in my office?”
Hunter shrugged. “I got here a few hours early and thought I’d take a nap.”
“Don’t you have anywhere else to stay? I’m sure Katarina would welcome the company. Her office even has a couch.”
Hunter snorted. “Normally I would, but… I heard this was where all the action was.” He glanced at Isaac. “You know what I’m talking about. This is the genetics lab with the power of creation right at your fingertips. Am I right, kid?”
Isaac didn’t know what to say. He was about to get fired from the internship.
Hunter looked at Townsend accusingly. “Look what you did.”
Townsend’s gaze slid toward Isaac as if he’d just remembered he was still there.
Isaac backed toward the door. “I’ll just go. It’s fine.”
Hunter shook his head. “No, it’s not. Gerry, you don’t have to be so hard on the interns who work here. You’re developing a bad reputation because you go through so many.”
“Indeed,” Townsend replied. “But the ones that make it through are known for their excellence. I’ve given Mr. Diaz the same opportunities as everyone else who’s walked through those doors. The same number of chances. Just like when you came through here.”
“Rigid to a fault.”
