"I'm pregnant!"
The two words echoed in the minds of Schwirian, Stewart, Payton, and Milligan, whom Robbins had called together for a small social gathering. The four remained silent for a moment, lost in thought.
Robbins grinned excitedly. "I have a real live person brewing in me as we speak! I'm so thrilled."
Payton was the first to rise and hug her. "Congratulations, Lieutenant," he said. "I don't know what to say."
"Say you love me," she joked.
He laughed. "I do."
Milligan was next, followed by Stewart. After they had given her congratulatory embraces, she turned to Schwirian, who was still seated on the couch and appeared to be in shock.
"Coyote, what are you so surprised about?" Robbins asked. "You were there!"
After the laughter died down, Schwirian looked at her concernedly. "Alicia, I'm--we're--going to be parents! This--this is huge." He let out a big sigh.
"Oh, Coyote, don't be such a stick in the mud. This is going to be a wonderful and joyous experience."
"And a painful one."
"Let me worry about that detail. Are you okay?"
"I think I will be."
"Coyote, you know I don't do well with serious. I'm looking on this as an experience, not a burden."
"Does your mom know?"
"Obviously--I told her as soon as I found out. You should get your folks on the horn and tell them that they're going to be grandparents too." She then frowned in thought. "I'm going to have to take some time off--in fact, my doctor said I should probably not do such a high-activity job until after the baby is born."
"What are you going to do?" Milligan asked. "What are we going to do?"
"I guess you guys will have to do without me."
"Where can we find a year-long replacement for you on such short notice?"
"Well," Schwirian said, "I know someone."
"Yeah?"
"I'm unattached, remember?"
"Last week..." The room fell silent.
"Hey, it's okay. They didn't die in vain; I'm proud to have called them my partners."
"So what are you proposing?" Stewart asked.
"Well, I can take Alicia's spot on the group until she comes back to work."
"Actually, she can probably keep working." Stewart glanced at Robbins. "I mean, just as long as you don't mind being tied to a desk job until the baby is born."
Robbins shrugged. "I don't have much choice, do I? If I were to take a leave of absence, that'd cut our household revenue in half. Plus, that's a year less benefits, my retirement account will be frozen until I start again, and there are probably a dozen other things that I haven't thought of."
"What about after he's born?" Stewart asked. "The force doesn't like groups exceeding four."
"He?" Robbins folded her arms and smirked at him. "What makes you think my baby is going to be a he?"
"He or she, then."
"Well, I wouldn't want to create a group of five anyway. The long hours we work are fine when you don't have any personal responsibilities greater than goldfish, but our child is going to need at least one of us around just about all the time. The problem is, I'd like to return to action as quickly as possible. I get bored sitting down."
"We could always split-shift our work schedule."
"That's what I was thinking." She turned to Stewart. "Will the powers that be allow that?"
"I don't know," he replied. "It never hurts to ask. But won't that put just as much of a financial strain on you as it would if one of you quit?"
"Are you kidding? We'd both be classified 'part-time', and active patrollers who are part-time are paid hourly. The total wages for someone paid by the hour would exceed a full-timer's salary, assuming they work an equal number of hours."
"I was not aware of that."
"Well, now you are. Granted, we'll be making less than we are now, but it'll still be more than we're making when I have a desk clerk's salary."
"Well, there's only one thing left to do. Find out if you can swing it."
"Hey, Robbins," Stewart said, ambling into the local IPF station a few months later. "How's the desk job been going?"
"Oh, about the same as last week. I'm still getting that itch for action."
"Understandable. How's the young one?"
She patted her stomach. "Developing perfectly. They did the latest tests and ultrasounds the day before yesterday. So what did you guys do this week?"
"Nothing exciting, really. The biggest thing we did was order pizza during our patrol on Friday."
She looked at him jealously. "Pizza? Did you get sliders on it?"
"Of course we did."
"You'd better have saved some for me," she said, giving him a look that could cut through steel.
"Of course I did," he replied, fishing through his bag. He pulled out a small container and handed it to her. "Would I forget my favorite desk jockey?"
"Charlie, I love you," she said, tearing into the container and beginning to chow down.
He grinned. "I know."
"We're hit!"
"Yeah, Charlie, I could tell that." Schwirian wrenched the stick to the right and avoided another salvo of plasma fire. "Payton, how are our shields holding up?"
"Twenty percent," Payton replied, "and our reserve energy tank is getting rather low. Should I cannibalize from the miscellaneous power?"
"Not yet. Milligan! What's wrong with the guns?"
"We blew something out. I'm fixing it as fast as I can, but it's going to take a while."
"Terrific. Payton, push the weapons into the shields and give me a reading."
"Way ahead of you, Captain," Payton called out. "We're holding steady at 42%."
"My lucky number," Schwirian murmured. "I could kiss you."
"Coyote," Stewart said, "you just shut our weapons down. How do you win a fight without weapons?"
"Weapons don't do any good if you're not around to use them."
"You never answered my question."
Schwirian gave Stewart a deranged look. "I've still got tricks up my sleeve."
"Why did I put you in charge?"
"Because you're more demented than I am."
Schwirian continued to maneuver the craft around the heavy fire. He frowned and looked at a monitor on the dash, then got a huge grin on his face. "Payton, hit a hard burn for five seconds, then cut the engine power to 25% and throw the rest to the shields."
"Captain--"
"Do it. Trust me."
"Coyote, that's an asteroid field ahead," Stewart pointed out.
"Are you this obnoxious to Alicia when she's in charge?" Schwirian asked him as he felt the surge of acceleration.
"I don't put her in charge, and did I mention we're flying straight into an asteroid field?"
"You don't? You should. And remember when you asked how to win a fight without weapons? This is how."
Stewart just gripped his chair and watched helplessly as they entered the asteroid field. The ship rolled and swerved to avoid the rocks.
"All right, we've got five ships to beat. Payton, give me a tally each time one bites the dust."
Payton did so, and soon there was only one enemy ship left. The two ships exited the asteroid field, and Schwirian immediately pulled a hard left and aimed the ship back into the rock storm.
"Didn't we just leave this party?" Stewart asked him.
Schwirian nodded. "This guy's a tough one. I'm going to have to perform a special maneuver."
"I hate it when you say that."
"Payton! All shield power on the rear shields." He aimed the ship towards a largish rock, then hit the reverse thrusters while pushing the stick down to fly under it. The ship was rocked by the force of the trailing craft slamming into the shield, and it promptly caromed off their back and into the asteroid.
"Five for five," Payton gasped.
Schwirian let out a big breath. "So much for the other guys."
"I still don't know how you managed to piss them off so much," Stewart choked out.
"I don't know. Usually when the Evanians drive you out of their territory, they just hold position at the border. We must have shot at them after we crossed into neutral space."
"Well, we're safe now. Let's land at the next planet and refuel."
"There's a city down there," Stewart said. "The readings from the scopes indicate a pretty high amount of energy, so we should have no trouble finding a place to refuel. Payton, how are we doing on power?"
"We're running on fumes," Payton deadpanned. "We have just enough left to power a pistol."
"Gee, that's plenty," Schwirian quipped. "Maybe we should skip on to the next planet."
"Just land, Coyote," Stewart said, "and stop acting like your wife."
"I can't help that we're so much alike."
The craft coasted downward through the atmosphere and towards a power station on the ground.
"This can't be right," Payton muttered. "There's no way this thing..."
Stewart, not hearing him, turned to Schwirian. "Do you have any money?"
"No, I didn't bring any with me. Hey, maybe we can just have them give it to us. You know, something of an IOU."
"I'm not thrilled with the notion of returning here just to pay for a C-note's worth of energy. Hey, Milligan," he called over the intercom, "do you have any cash on you?"
"Damn!" Milligan shouted from behind the communicator. "I'm sorry, Captain, what'd you say?"
"Do you have any money? And what happened?"
"Yeah, I do. And as for your second query, this cannon's a mess. I can't get into it without a stray charge of electricity or a loose part coming after me."
"Okay, just forget about it. We can fix it when we get home."
The quartet exited the craft upon touching down on the landing pad. Schwirian and Stewart examined the damage to the craft as Milligan slipped a bill into the pump. Meanwhile, Payton wandered around while holding a printout and muttering to himself.
"The baby's due in a couple weeks, right?" Stewart asked Schwirian.
"Yeah." He turned to look at Payton. "Payton, what's wrong?"
Payton looked up suddenly and blinked. "This readout is what's wrong. Look at the energy readings from about halfway down the page."
Schwirian's eyes grew wide. "Holy cow. This first figure would seem too high even if we were in the tank."
"And the numbers keep getting bigger and bigger."
"What do you make of this, Charlie?"
Stewart studied the readout. "Well, the reader can't be malfunctioning, because the increase is on the right incline. But I haven't seen readings of this magnitude except in heavy industrial generators that are poorly shielded."
"But aren't heavy industrial generators required by law to be heavily shielded?"
"Indeed they are. Want to check it out?"
Schwirian glanced at his watch. "We're still on the clock. Why not?"
"Payton, Milligan, grab the scanners and come with us."
Payton studied the screen of the scanner and frowned. "This is where the energy readings are the strongest, but we're in the middle of a street." He lowered the scanner to the ground and looked at it again. "Damn, just as I thought. Whatever's got the obscene power emanations is somewhere underground."
Milligan uncovered a nearby manhole and peered down. "I think I see something," he said, climbing downward. The other three followed him into the sewer.
Upon reaching the bottom, they looked around and saw a large door on the side of the tunnel. They opened it and were greeted by bright lights and loud mechanical humming.
"I think this is the source," Stewart said.
"Gee, you think?" Schwirian asked him. He frowned and descended the staircase that lay before them, the other three following close behind. "Man, these computers must be centuries old. They can't be any later than series XP-86."
"I think you're right. I wonder what they're here for?"
"Well, let's find out." He stood at a terminal and pressed a key to turn off the screen saver. "Can you imagine the static burn this thing would have on it if it had stayed on all this time?"
The screen slowly came up, and a prompt read PRESS THE DELETE KEY TO CONTINUE. Schwirian pressed delete, and a menu came up. Schwirian glanced at the first menu item, INTRODUCTION, and pressed 1. He waited as a file was loaded into memory.
He read through the introduction, his expression changing from a frown to a concerned look. Then he read a passage and the color drained from his face.
"This is a missile silo! By pressing the delete key, the computers will be set to launch the missiles."
"You did what?" Stewart asked.
Ignoring him, Schwirian returned to the menu. He quickly read through the remainder of the documentation, then raced over to a terminal on the opposite side of the room. "Good thing they documented this program so well." He pressed a key on the terminal and saw a countdown come into view.
"Coyote, what the hell is going on?"
"Thirty minutes," he sighed, "plenty of time." He turned to the others. "Three hundred years ago, a malicious group built this underground complex and stockpiled a bunch of missiles to be fired at two dozen specified targets scattered around this area of the galaxy. They didn't say what purpose they were saving them for, but by hitting these specified targets, they would not only destroy a dozen civilizations, but also make life in the surrounding planets hazardous with all the space debris flying around. Oh, and this planet would be obliterated by the launch--that is how big these explosives are."
"We're sitting on a powder keg?"
"Yeah, and there's more. The launch is on a time delay, so that all the rockets aren't fired at once. The first one is slated to go off in just under a half hour."
"Shall we begin evacuation now?"
"No. We don't want to create a galaxy-wide panic. The good news is that beyond that door there are the individual terminals for the missiles. I can deactivate them fairly easily, being the master hacker that I am, but as you can see, that door is closing so that the missile launch won't obliterate the main computers in here."
"Terrific."
"That means I'll be locked behind that door until the final countdown. I'll have to disable them one by one."
"Wait. You're going to do it?"
"Yeah. I figure I can take along my stash of food and water, which will easily last long enough before the official 'final countdown'--"
"Coyote, are you mad? You have a wife and an unborn child to worry about!"
"A child who may not get born if I don't stop these things."
"One of us can do it. You have too much to lose!"
"I'm the only one who can do this."
"You can tell us how--"
"No. It's too complicated. With all the electromagnetic interference, I couldn't step you through it from a distance, and that means I'd have to cram a week's worth of lessons into about--" he checked the gate "--twenty seconds. Sorry, Charlie."
Stewart sighed heavily. "There's no other way?"
Schwirian shook his head. "There's no time to lose. Once that gate closes, it doesn't open." He fished a gold chain out of his pocket and handed it to Stewart. "I was going to give this to Alicia when the baby was born. Give it to her for me if I don't get back in time."
"Will do."
Schwirian considered something for a moment. "In the unlikely event that I don't make it back--"
"Don't think that way."
"There's always that possibility. I believe in looking at all possible outcomes. If I don't make it, I want you to help raise my child--she'll need a father figure. And her mother will need a husband."
Stewart got very quiet. "Me?"
"Yes, you. If I don't come back in three months, assume I'm not coming back."
"I'd be honored."
Schwirian nodded, clasped Stewart's hand, then trotted to the closing door. "Take good care of my wife while I'm gone, okay?"
"You can count on that, my friend."
The door closed with a loud clang, and the trio stood in stunned silence for a moment. Then Stewart turned slowly and began to walk out, with the other two following close behind. He cast one final glance behind him before trudging upward to the surface.