Red Sky Dawning Page 14

  “So, Dr. Summerston,” Danny said, “how do you feel about a little pointless, barbaric violence after dinner tonight?”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 17: Manning-Town

  After reentry, Katie peered through the window to her right and saw the horizon beyond the glass shift from cottony-white cloud cover to the soaring skyline of Retaun. The city was absolutely stunning. A sprawling metropolis of high-tech executive steel mixed with centuries-old stone that resembled marble and cobblestone, it was everything Lee had described. “Athens, Greece, circa 400 BC meets the NYC of the future,” he’d said. Man, if you weren’t spot on, too, Katie thought, catching sight of the Auran Capitol building, which might’ve passed for a distant cousin to New York’s St Patrick’s Cathedral back home.

  What New York and Athens did not have, however, was a railless public transit system of hundreds of mostly-glass cars streaming through their respective skyways.

  “Told ya you’d see some differences.”

  Katie turned to see Danny grinning at her in amusement.

  Once they’d landed, they boarded one of the transit cars heading in the direction of Madisyn’s apartment.

  “So this is that transit thing you told me about?” Katie said, nervous eyes fixed on the transparent floor under her feet and the web of streets, buildings, and greenways passing some ninety meters below it.

  “This is it,” Danny said. “It runs kinda like a monorail, only, you know, without the rail.”

  Soon after, the transit car eased to a halt at Platform A of Bahr Station, and, following a brief stroll through the market, they arrived at Madisyn’s loft-apartment where Katie would be spending the next two weeks of her vacation.

  “Wow, I like your taste,” Katie said of the space’s stainless steel amenities, hardwood floors, and exposed ventilation.

  “Thanks.” Madisyn dropped her keys onto a table in the foyer. “It’s home…for now, anyway. Come on. I’ll show you the guest room.”

  Following a soft-white hallway into a back room off the main common area, Katie dropped her bags beside the queen-size bed and spotted Danny on the sidewalk outside, talking to one of the neighbors.

  “We’ve got some time before dinner if you want to grab a shower and relax,” Madisyn said. “Bathroom’s just outside and to the right.”

  “Thanks, I may take you up on that.” Katie opened her suitcase on the bed and began riffling through her clothes until something occurred to her. “Hey, Madisyn?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What exactly is the dress code for an Auran boxing match, anyway?”

  Madisyn sighed. “A far cry from a night at the MGM Grand, that’s for sure. And it’s called Kachuro, by the way, not boxing.”

  “Which is what? Some kind of mixed martial arts?”

  “Something like that, yeah. There’s a pro circuit that gets a modest following in some places. But for the most part, everyone around the fleet tends to flock to the amateur fights like the one at the Bombshell tonight. I think that’s because they all know each other, so there’s the whole ‘my guy kicked your guy’s ass’ machismo thing, plus it gives them an excuse to spend a Friday night at the bar…as if any of them needed one.”

  “Translation: jeans are fine,” Katie said.

  “Sadly.” Madisyn turned to the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go crack the whip on my fearsome combatant boyfriend to finalize our dinner reservations.”

  “That sounds promising,” Katie said.

  “It better be. We may be stuck with jocks, gym shorts, and beer for tonight’s entertainment, but I’ll be damned if we’re not at the very least getting a decent meal out of this.”

  Katie shot Madisyn a grin. “Nice.”

  * * *

  Three hours later, having finished an exquisite five-course meal at a seafood place in the Harbor District—at least, Katie thought it was seafood—she found herself riding in the back of a topless utility vehicle with Danny at the wheel and Madisyn beside him. In the distance ahead, the Auran sun sank behind the massive ASC facility known as Fort Manning.

  “So this is what an Auran military base looks like,” Katie said, brushing a wind-blown strand of blond hair from her face then staring out over the grid of buildings and blacktop beyond the approaching fence line.

  “Yes and no.” Danny waved at the checkpoint guard on their way through the gate. “This is what Fort Manning looks like. The base was built more than a century ago, during the Aurans’ war with an alien race called the Beyonders. So, by comparison, it looks pretty dated when stacked up against a lot of the newer facilities, which were built in the last thirty years. That said, Manning’s got more heritage than all the others combined, which is why it’s still a cornerstone of ASC operations to this day.”

  As they crested the first hill on their way through the base, Katie could see what Danny meant. While Manning itself was enormous, a lot of it did look fairly antiquated when compared to everything else she’d seen since arriving.

  Still, there was a familiar vibe there that resonated with her—probably because, crazy as it sounded, it reminded her in many ways of Fort Bragg back home in North Carolina. While a sophomore at UNC, Katie had dated a soldier who’d been stationed there, and she’d made more than her fair share of trips down I-95 from Chapel Hill to Fayetteville—or “Fayette-Nam,” as the locals called it.

  Fast-forward to the present and Manning, oddly enough, offered the same senescent landscape as Bragg, complete with row after row of fusty, brick-and-mortar buildings, an aging post exchange with a grocer, a hospital, an airfield, multiple overgrown recreation fields, and countless blocks of concrete barracks, circa 1932.

  “So is this Barnyard place on post, or what?” Katie asked, seeing the running lights of a starship cross the dusky orange sky overhead.

  “The Bombshell,” Danny corrected. “No, it’s over in Manning-Town, just outside the Cunningham gate. Cutting through the base was just the quickest way to get there.”

  “Manning-Town,” Katie repeated. “Sounds very Pleasure Island.”

  “Kinda but not really,” Danny said. “It’s a tiny little civilian-owned strip just off-post. You know—bars, shops, restaurants, that sort of thing. Anyway, a lot of people like to go there to blow off steam when they’re not on duty, and given that the Praetorian is in orbit right now, there should be quite a few familiar faces in the crowd.”

  Twenty minutes later, the jeep ground to a halt in the gravel parking lot of the Bombshell Bar and Grill, a former garage which, according to Danny, had been purchased by the owner some ten years ago and converted into a tavern—though sub-par pub grub and a mediocre ale selection were hardly its main attraction. That distinction went to the tri-roped, triangular Kachuro ring at the center of the establishment, which served as both its entertainment and its primary source of revenue, via a near-criminal bookmaker’s cut on all house wagers.

  “Cozy,” Katie said, noting the words “Fight Night” and “2-4-1 Call Drinks” in glowing neon on the sign out front. Inside, the scent of salty air soon gave way to that of stale beer and cheap snack food. Katie was again taken aback by the raucous familiarity of it all.

  “Worlds aside, I guess a bar is a bar is a bar, huh?” Katie shouted to Madisyn over the roar of music, clinking glassware, and the jubilant shouts of “Ruah!” from a group with raised shot glasses near the bar’s center taps.

  Her sense of déjà vu hit a whole new level, however, when, upon searching the back wall for any sign of a wine bottle, Katie’s gaze locked on an all-too-familiar face courtesy of the tackiest 3-D beer-banner in history. The face was broad, dark-skinned, and sported a pearly-white grin befitting a used car salesman; below the face were two meaty thumbs-up and a claymore broadsword embossed with the words “New Berwick’s Finest: Iron Highland Ale. Get a wee bit of Scot in ye!”

  “Um, Danny?” Katie blinked. “Why is Hamish’s face on a beer ad…behind a bar…on an alien planet?”

  Dan
ny laughed. “You know Hamish, forever the entrepreneur.”

  Katie blinked again. “It’s…staring at me.”

  “Top!” a voice shouted from across the room, breaking their attention from the banner as two soldiers bounded over to meet them. One was a skinny man with black hair and glasses; the other a brawny older man with brown hair and a grizzled, square jaw.

  “What’s up, Reeg?” Danny said to the one in glasses. “Katie, let me introduce Corporal Les Reegan—we call him Reeg—and Sergeant Xeek Anders. They’re in my unit.”

  “Good to meetcha,” Reegan said with a cheery greeting.

  “Miss,” Anders said with a subtle bow.

  “Hi, guys,” Katie said.

  “So what do ya say, Top, you all set?” Reegan rubbed his hands together. “Mason and his goons are already here talking trash, ya know.”

  “Par for the course with that crew,” Danny scoffed. “I see Mason’s CO in check-on just about every morning, and that guy never misses a chance to rave about his boy. It’s like clockwork. That ends tonight, guys. That belt is coming home where it belongs.”

  “Damn straight!” Reegan said.

  Katie leaned in to Madisyn. “I take it Danny has a history with the guy he’s facing tonight?”

  Madisyn nodded. “Fill you in later.”

  “All right, boys, let’s do this!” Reegan announced. “Top, if you’ll follow me, we’ll get you into the back and taped up.”

  Danny turned to Madisyn and Katie. “You guys hold down the fort for me and relax. Anders here will take you ringside when it’s time.”

  Katie shook her head. “Have fun. Try not to get yourself killed.”

  Danny shot her a wry grin. “Are you kidding? I’ve got two doctors in my corner, and gorgeous ones at that. I’d stare down Chuck Liddell right now if I could.”

  That drew a hearty guffaw from Madisyn, but she leaned in and kissed him anyway. “Be safe, all right? I’ll see you afterward.”

  He kissed her back, smiled, and vanished into the crowd.

  “Okay, so on that note, I need a drink,” Madisyn said, showing Katie to a table that’d just opened and starting for the bar. “Can I get you something?”

  “Read my mind,” Katie said. “Don’t suppose they’ve got a decent pinot around here?”

  Madisyn’s look went flat. “Have you seen this place?”

  “Point taken,” Katie said. “Talk to me. What’ve we got?”

  Madisyn thought about it. “Hamish’s beer isn’t bad.”

  “Ugh,” Katie winced. “Sorry. With all due respect to the big guy, I never was much of a craft beer drinker.”

  “Fair enough,” Madisyn said. “We’ve got something pretty close to a vodka martini, if you prefer. It was actually Danny’s favorite before he gave up drinking.”

  “Perfect,” Katie said. “Extra dirty…if, you know, you guys have olives.”

  “I think we can work something out.” Madisyn dropped her purse into an empty chair to hold the spot. “Back in a few.”

  Hunching forward onto her elbows, Katie clasped her hands on the oak tabletop and let out a breath—her eyes inevitably finding their way back to Hamish’s oversized, 3-D head above the bar. “Unreal.”

  “Hey, it’s Katie, right?” a voice asked from somewhere behind her.

  Spinning on her seat, Katie turned to see Kris Wyatt standing there. No longer covered in grease, he looked downright attractive in his casual slacks and stylish but simple navy-blue button-up. “Yeah, that’s me. Chief Wyatt, right?”

  “Only on deck. At the bar, it’s just Kris.” He pointed to a third stool at her table. “Anybody sitting there?”

  “Apparently you are.” Katie gestured him to the stool. “Take a load off.”

  Wyatt placed his mug on the table and scanned the crowed. “Where’d Madisyn take off to, anyway?”

  “The bar. She’s flagging me down something that’s supposed to be like a martini.”

  “Oh yeah, around here that’s called a Zamanio. Definitely closer to a vodka martini than a gin, though. Or so I’m told. I hope you’re okay with that.”

  “Yeah, Madisyn mentioned that. I hate gin. Smells like…Pine-Sol or something.”

  Wyatt looked confused. “Pine what?”

  “Pine-Sol,” Katie said. “It’s a…Oh, never mind. It’s not important. Just trust me, it smells really bad and a lot like gin.”

  Wyatt laughed. “Gotcha. Sorry if I’m a little slow on the uptake, but Lee and Mac’s wedding was my first time on Earth, so I’ve got a lot to learn yet.”

  “My first trip to Aura.” Katie raised a hand, as if volunteering. “I won’t judge if you won’t.”

  “Deal. So how are you liking it so far, anyway?”

  Katie cocked her head. “Well, let’s see…So far today, I’ve traveled through hyperspace between galaxies, visited my first-ever alien world, flown in a glass metro car, and now I’m sitting in a bar just off an alien military base—with the face of a guy I’ve known for years hanging on the wall, no less—waiting on something that’s supposed to be like a martini. So yeah…you might say it’s been a big day for me.”

  Wyatt shifted on his stool. “I get how this could all be a bit disorienting.”

  “Ya think? And about the alien thing…I mean, to hear Madisyn tell it, you guys are every bit as human as we are—slight epigenetic differences notwithstanding.”

  “Wow, big word.”

  “What, epigenetic?” Katie felt a sudden tinge of guilt for having lost him in the conversation. “It’s—”

  “The study of chemical compounds, both natural and man-made—stuff in our air, water, medicines, and so forth—that serve to influence gene expression, thereby underscoring a clear bridge between the genome and the environment,” Wyatt spouted with ease. “Translation: different planetary environments yield different subspecies of humans…Yeah, I know what it means.”

  Katie tried in vain to mask her surprise. “Really?”

  “I was on the original Mimic Project with Lee, Danny, and the others, and we kinda ran into some issues in the gene therapy phase because of that.” Wyatt’s face became a mixture of embarrassment and amusement.

  “What happened?”

  “Methylation-Induced Cannabinentia,” Wyatt said. “Or at least, I think that’s what Madisyn called it. Around here, though, we usually just call it The Funyun Effect.”

  “Ahhh,” Katie giggled. “In other words, your super-sized gene therapy gives people from my world the pot munchies.”

  “That would be it. Anyhow, I was in charge of making sure all of our hardware interfaced properly with their M-Suits, and that little episode set me back a week on the flight deck. But we made it work.”

  “So how does that even work, anyway?” Katie said, still grappling with the grander question. “Don’t get me wrong, I never expected people from other worlds to be Hollywood clichés with green skin and antennae. But live, flesh-and-blood human beings that look exactly like me? Never saw that one coming, and I’ve built my entire career in science, both as a doctor and a researcher.”

  Wyatt shrugged and sipped his ale. “To be honest, I don’t know if there’s really an answer to that, and even if there were, it’d be way over my scientific pay grade. That said…” He shifted to face her. “The universe is an awfully big place with a whole lotta space, not to mention an infinite number of worlds we know to be similar. Therefore, given that as empirical scientific fact, is it so hard to believe, then, that at least two of those worlds—with all of their environmental similarities—might also be home to similar species of life?”

  Katie shook her head. “Yeah, but technologically speaking, you guys are way ahead of us. We can barely reach Mars by probe, much less travel between galaxies.”

  “You’d have some neat toys too if your world had been invaded by aliens,” Wyatt said with a dark chuckle. “Besides, even with all of our deep space capabilities, it was still a total fluke that we happened upon your world. But
that’s just the draw, I suppose.”

  Katie’s lips made a line. “Yeah, I guess. I’d still like a bit more of an explanation as to how it all works, though.”

  “Wouldn’t we all?” Wyatt fidgeted with his mug. “Listen, can I ask you something?”

  Katie raised an eyebrow. “Sure, shoot.”

  “You mentioned your research background a minute ago. Hamish says you were pretty big-time. Why’d you give that up?”

  Katie considered the question. “I don’t really know. I guess somewhere along the line, something just clicked in my brain that told me I’m not a sideline person. Ya know?”

  Wyatt chuckled. “Yep, you’re a Summerston, all right.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I really enjoyed research, and one of the perks of my current job is that it keeps me plugged into that world. But I just…” Katie stared at the tabletop and searched for the right words. “At the end of the day, if somebody’s lying on an operating table about to bleed out with a pulmonary embolism, I can’t be the person who’s stuck on a bench somewhere, buried under a mountain of data looking for a solution that might, in theory, save their life. Call it whatever you want, but I just can’t. I want to be the person in the OR, saving it. Make sense?”

  Wyatt nodded with a look of genuine empathy.

  Katie didn’t know how or why—maybe one day she would—but she was pretty certain he knew exactly where she was coming from.

  Neither spoke for a moment.

  “So,” Katie said, fumbling for a topic. “Where are you from?”

  “Oh, just a sleepy little town in the middle of nowhere called Erwyn,” Wyatt said. “It’s about nine hours south of Retaun on the Lorian Peninsula.”

  “Coastal boy.”

  “Sometimes, yeah. Erwyn’s about an hour inland, so beach time meant a bit of a commute. Anyway, my folks own a farm down there.”

  “Really? How did you go from farm work to being a world-class engineer on a military flagship?”

  Wyatt wrinkled his nose. “No clue. All I know is that I’ve just always liked fixing things. Ever since I can remember, I’ve tinkered with stuff. Toys as a kid, farm equipment as a teenager…you name it, and I’ve probably pulled it apart and put it back together again. Couple that with a boyhood love of stargazing, and the ASC just felt like the right call when I got older.”