The Odyssey and the Iliad (Kinsella Universe Book 7) Read online

  Odyssey

  and the Iliad

  Gina Marie Wylie

  Copyright © 2012, 2014 Gina Marie Wylie

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1496093998

  ISBN-13: 978-1496093998

  CONTENTS

  1

  Grayhome

  1

  2

  Lost

  19

  3

  Found

  33

  4

  Parking Orbit

  47

  5

  Return

  61

  6

  Wanna Fly?

  76

  7

  Asking Questions

  92

  8

  Union Reunion

  104

  9

  Impressed

  120

  10

  Meeting of the Minds

  134

  11

  End Game

  149

  12

  The Academy

  173

  13

  Settling In

  190

  14

  Roommates

  208

  15

  Alignments

  224

  16

  Intelligence Op

  240

  17

  Guess Who is Coming to Dinner

  257

  18

  A Whale of a Turkey Shoot

  272

  Chapter 1 -- Grayhome

  Trevor Grimes entered the Port Admiral’s office, intent on being early for his 0800 appointment. He wasn’t at all pleased to see his former friend, ex-brother-in-law and latter day nemesis, John MacDougal, already seated, waiting to be seen.

  MacDougal took one look at who entered the office and came up swinging. Trev brushed the punch aside and said softly, “Control yourself, John.”

  “You murdering bastard! I thought you’d never show your face again!” He swung again and even better prepared, Trev caught the punch and brought the man to his knees.

  He turned to the yeoman on duty. “You’ll have recordings. In spite of grievous provocation, I haven’t responded.”

  “You bastard! You killed my sister! Her children!” John tried to stand and Trev twisted a bit more and once again MacDougal sank to his knees.

  A moment later Shore Patrol policemen arrived, the yeoman said a few words and the SP’s hauled John erect. “There is not a day that has gone by, John -- not one -- that I don’t play what happened over and over again in my mind. You can’t forgive me? I pushed the switch, John. Yeah, it was your sister who died, but she was my wife. And as you never seem to have never realized, my two daughters. I burned them right up! Quicker than an eye blink! I picked off another mother and another pair of daughters as well.”

  Port Admiral Carlos appeared. Trevor wasn’t surprised that the admiral had waited for the SPs to make sure the situation was well in hand. Port Admirals were rather famous for that attitude. Fat lot of good that attitude was going to him now!

  “I’m sorry, Colonel Grimes. I apologize on behalf of the Port Arm for this man’s behavior.”

  “Admiral, for what little it’s worth, he has cause. It saves me a trip to see the little moron.” Trevor reached out with a centuries-old paperback stuffed with papers -- a book worth more than anyone in the room could afford -- and slid it into John’s waistband.

  “That’s for you, you dumb fuck!” Everyone recoiled at the obscenity; cursing wasn’t done these days. “You are ignorant, but not stupid. That’s a book from before we had gotten out of the atmosphere. The good guys were faced with bad guys. The bad guys were losing big, and got the idea they could score some payback by overloading their great big beam weapons, overloading them a million times over. Those weapons only lasted a very short time, but the resulting beam was -- intense -- and of course, it killed the weapon crews. The good guys took a long time to figure out how to beat it. Inside the back cover, I drew some schematics of a possible circuit.

  “Shut your hole! Read the book! Look at the plans. And if you are shot full of luck, maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you have a free shot at me next time.” He jerked a thumb at the door. “We don’t have a lot of time. Get rid of this time-wasting asshole!”

  “I’m apologize, Colonel, I don’t know what’s come over...” the Port Admiral began again.

  “Shut up! You’re stupider than he is, if such a thing is possible! I have a ship configured for five thousand pax. I’m still ironing out the config, but before you can get anyone out there, it’ll be ready. Kids, Admiral. Send me a mess of kids. I know you don’t have enough lift to get them all out of here otherwise.”

  “The only ship registered to you, Colonel, is a shuttle.”

  “This is a habitat with fans. Don’t screw with me, Admiral. Give the orders and get them moving. We could get zapped anytime.”

  “You don’t have a listed habitat, Colonel.”

  “What? I’m farting? You think I want to load up a couple of thousand rug rats and park until we get blowed up? Get your head out of your ass, Admiral, sir.”

  “This isn’t proper behavior,” the admiral said pointedly.

  “You think having a thousand gigaton nukes landing here in a couple, three days is proper? Get the lead out, asshole.”

  Another man appeared from the inner office, a civilian, Dennis Barnes, the senior person representing the Federation at Grayhome and the planetary president. “Trevor -- I thought you were dead.”

  “I took up a new career, Dennis: hermit. Hermits don’t advertise. Dennis, I can get five thousand kids out of here. Give the order, or I’ll play this recording at my court-martial back on Earth, after having saved myself and no one else.”

  The planetary president turned to the Port Admiral. “Send the sixteen- to eighteen-year-old young women, and the female officer cadets, Admiral.”

  “Aye, aye, sir,” the Port Admiral replied. Trevor was moderately sure the man was relieved he didn’t have to decide anything.

  Trevor turned to go, only to be hauled up a few steps outside the Port Admiral’s door by President Barnes.

  “Trevor, a favor.”

  “Dennis, you screwed me every chance you got.”

  “My surviving daughter is one of the officer cadets. She’s the best in her reserve class. Please at least look at her, and if you think she’s fit for the task, give her additional responsibilities.”

  Trevor blinked. That thing about “surviving daughter” had hurt. He had killed Dennis’ two younger daughters and his wife. Still, he had things to do and places to go. As far away from here as humanly possible in the time available.

  “Christ! The likes of you never give up! Dirty-feet!” He brushed the other off and a few minutes later was breaking some inner-system flight regs lifting off his shuttle a little hot.

  Inner System Flight Control had words for him. “Desist, Grimes!”

  “Take it up with the Planetary President! Take it up with the idiot Port Admiral. They’re going to get you all killed! Try deserting! Don’t bother me; I have a hot approach to calculate. Work to do, places to go!”

  *** ** ***

  Twelve hours later the first pax shuttle arrived, with a cargo of two hundred young women.

  Trevor gathered them in a cargo hold, off the main hatch. “I’m Colonel Trevor Grimes, formerly of the Federation Marines. I’m your host for the time being. To your right is a large hatch; all of you go through that hatch. There is a long table with plastic bins of numbered room keys that don’t have red tags. Take one. If you’re a dirt
y-foot and you grab a red key, even by mistake, you’re going to make your crewmates happy: I’m going to space you. More food and life support for the rest of them!

  “Follow the arrows. Once you reach your quarters, take a few seconds to explore. Then climb into your bunk; we could be attacked at any time. When we are attacked I’m going to crank up the fans and we’re going to shoot out of here at a couple of g’s, a minute later -- ready or not. Sooner if it looks like one or more are lining up on us. You’re going to want to stay close to your bunk.

  “Rim Runners, the red keys for you. Grab one. You can’t quarter with friends, but the cleverer ones of you can get at least close to each other. I understand that there are twenty-five officer cadets among you. All of you see me. That’s all.”

  They scurried for the exit, all of them, except two. He handed them gold keys. “Officers call directly, you’ll know.”

  One of them shook her head. “We’re just cadets, Colonel.”

  “Today you’re close to graduating. If we get attacked, you graduate the second the attack is detected. Take those staterooms. There will be two dozen of you -- that’s about two hundred younger women, to each one of you. I expect you will find your hands full. You keep order now, you hear! Now get to it!”

  Shuttle after shuttle arrived, unloaded and departed. He lost track, and then doubly so when he got beeps from the environmental readings. Excess CO2, combined with gradually declining oxygen levels. He worked the problem having no clue what was wrong. Sensors all over the core area reported similar readings, so it was unlikely a sensor glitch. There was no drop of air pressure, so there wasn’t a leak.

  No doors were open; everything seemed to be working nominally. He upped the oxygen mixture, he added more carbon dioxide scrubbers. He watched the environmental numbers continue to deteriorate. He silently cursed; he was going to look like a fool if he called in a busted vehicle.

  A voice cleared itself behind him and he spun around. A young woman of eighteen faced him. “Colonel, permission to speak.”

  “Don’t be absurd. Speak up!”

  “You’re out of keys; no one has wanted to speak up about it.”

  “I’m out of keys? What do you mean? I put six thousand out -- there should be plenty.”

  “I’m at a loss, sir. There are about four thousand women milling around in the hanger bay. Who, since you threatened to space anyone who didn’t do what you want, are terrified at the prospect.

  “There are four thousand people in the hanger?” Trevor repeated.

  “Yes, Colonel.”

  He waved at the nametag on her shipsuit. “Barnes. Are you the daughter of Dennis Barnes?” He spoke into a microphone while he continued to regard her.

  “Robin Barnes, yes, sir.”

  “In about five minutes, a hauler is going to bring more keys. I’ve got bunks for about ten thousand. Tell me that this is everyone.”

  “Sir, with respect, two more shuttles just started unloading a few moments ago; that’s why I came to speak to you, sir. We are far beyond that compartment’s capacity. There are two more shuttles also queued up. I believe that will be all.”

  “There were supposed to be ten shuttles, five hundred pax each, except the first with two hundred.”

  “I was on shuttle thirteen, Colonel. And they crammed seven hundred of us aboard. It is an emergency, sir.”

  “Cadet Barnes, I’ve never liked your father. He loathes me. I assume you know my sordid history -- I killed your mother and two of your sisters. The Port Admiral loathes me as well; they are by no means alone. Evidently they aren’t too fond of you either. If I were to try to reach Earth with this many people aboard, only a couple of hundred cannibal women would survive.”

  “This is an asteroid habitat, Colonel. I know what I’m looking at. You should be able to deal with this many.”

  “I could -- if I’d planned for it. I said five thousand pax. If they wanted me to take more than twice that many, someone should have been smart enough to notify me, so I could have gotten slop buckets up here.”

  “Well, Colonel, now you know.”

  “And what part of ‘the attack can come at any time’ didn’t you understand? It’ll take a half day to get the supplies up here, another half day to get them unloaded and stored -- and that’s assuming they are ready to go already. If they’re not -- it might take as much as another day to get them up and stowed. I rate the odds of an attack within two days as nearly unity. The last report had them fourteen light years away, two weeks ago.”

  “Get back in the hanger compartment. Yell, scream -- do whatever it takes to take command. Get those people out of there and into staterooms. The latest rooms are coming out of mothballs as we speak. They will be a little chilly for a few hours. Tell them to ignore that. Better cold fingers and toes than dead.”

  He spoke to the two shuttle pilots queued to land. “Hold up docking for a few. We’ve had a glitch in pax unloading. It should clear in five or ten minutes. You might contemplate taking your pax back. I am at more than two hundred percent of capacity. I don’t have the life support for what I’ve got aboard now. They forgot to mention they were sending me a few more than I told them I had capacity for.”

  “Commander Janice Robinson, Fleet Port Arm, shuttle Ranger and 704 pax. Order up slop buckets.”

  “That’s in progress; I didn’t learn of the overage until just now. Port Arm? Why the hell did they send me a Portie?”

  “I’m shuttle qualified, and I was the chief surgical nurse at the base hospital. The Port Admiral appointed me assistant to the head babysitter. The head babysitter would be you, sir.”

  “Second shuttle, who is in command?”

  “Colonel, I am Fleet Aloft Ensign Carmen Swenson. I request permission to offload my pax and be allowed to return to the planet.”

  “You say that, Ensign, as if those aren’t your orders.”

  “Sir, I am ashamed. My uncle is Thor Swenson, my aunt is Trudy Swenson. I’ve been ordered out with you.”

  “What color shipsuit?”

  “White, sir. Please don’t let that sway your judgment.”

  “Specialty?”

  “Pilot, sir. All the Swenson women dream of being pilots.”

  “Negative on your request. You are number one to dock. Then go habitat south, find the cargo lock and dock and lock there. Make your way to operations as quickly as you can.”

  “How can I look anyone in the eye, ever again?”

  “This is a lottery, Ensign. Some win, some are going to lose. Most are going to lose. I need you. If you think you are going to have trouble looking people in the eye, imagine being a Marine colonel who hid behind the skirts of female children to get out.”

  “Cadet Barnes, Colonel,” the now familiar voice interrupted. “The dock is clearing rapidly.”

  “Roger that. Ensign Swenson, you may dock and unload now, then see how fast you can get to ops. How many pax?”

  “Seven hundred even.”

  “Did you hear what I told Commander Robinson?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Ensign, this is going to be tough, I kid you not. You will earn your pay and then some aboard this vehicle. If you cut and run, you will make it just that much harder to keep these people alive.”

  “Docking, Colonel. God, the universe is screwed up!”

  “That it is, Ensign!”

  A chime sounded and he turned to the communications again. “Grimes,” he said, a little testy.

  “I am Pak Lee, Colonel Grimes, the habitat manager for the Ilios habitat.”

  “Sir,” he replied. Habitat managers tended to be brilliant.

  “Earlier the planetary president and the base Port Admiral reported to us that your habitat was equipped with fans and was going to depart as soon as possible. Sir, yours is not listed as a habitat.”

  “I had an accident a few years ago, before we started moving people in. After that... well, sir. I killed my wife and two infant daughters and three others. Ther
e has just been me since. I’ve opened up the core area, I turned on the heaters. I’ve got 450,000 ration days of consumables, lowest on food. I told them I could handle five thousand. They’ve sent me more than ten thousand. I wish to God I could take more, but I don’t know how I’m going to feed what I’ve got. Rations aren’t the only area where I’m not only below safe minimums, but where there is simply not enough. I’ve ordered up slop buckets, but...” his voice trailed away.

  “We had an ark plan, that’s been implemented. The women and the younger children are safe -- we didn’t use fans to get them in place, either. I have two fully loaded slop buckets headed your way, on hot approaches. We sent you the rest of our older children, already. You will have my two daughters aboard, Colonel.”

  “I’ll get them out, sir. I’ve pulled out all the stops when it comes to generating consumables.”

  “I have filed charges against the planetary president and the Port Admiral for culpable malfeasance and have ejected an emergency capsule with the report for later pickup, detailing our charges. Go with God, Colonel.”

  “He’s been making himself scarce lately, sir. I’ll do my best.”

  He switched to the internal link. “Cadet Barnes.”

  “Yeah, right,” she replied, obviously fatigued.

  “We have another couple of thousand pax coming. Tell people already in staterooms to get more keys. These new pax are not as old as you. I want at least one older kid in the cabin with them.”

  “A minute ago, you told me we were going to end up a few cannibals. More mouths to feed?” she queried.

  “And we may well end up like that. On the other hand, these latest came with multiple slop buckets and hands to unload them. About now you need to cross your fingers and pray really hard.”

  Two hours passed; the pax were stowed, all of them. The habitat slop buckets unloaded, and he was told they’d be back. Two supply ships arrived from Port and he had them put things away.