Chapter 43: Arriving, Armstrong Station

NSS McDivitt, January 21, 2142
Arriving, Armstrong Station

Alan spent the entire slow passage from Mars to Armstrong Station working at a terminal, typing with one hand. The moment he was weightless, he cast off his sling, but Doctor Seddon had another idea. She bound his left arm to his chest with an Ace Bandage, creating a zero g sling. “I know you fliers don’t believe it, but there is such a thing as immobilized. And it has its uses in the medical world.”

“Yes ma’am.” It was really all he said. His office, which once seemed so tiny, was huge now that Hilde wasn’t in there with him. They had connected bunks, but they shared one and used the other for storage or a place to study while the other slept. He couldn’t go in the bunk they slept and made love in ... it smelled like her. He checked the storage compartments and all of her stuff was gone. The only sign that it was ever occupied was Noxie standing in his charger.

Alan moved Noxie and all of his clothing to his office and stuffed his clothing in a filing cabinet. “Mister Scarlett, you can’t withdraw from the ship’s population just because you lost a troop,” said Commander Kanopa.

He wanted to scream “I LOST MY WIFE! I MURDERED A MAN!” but he just muttered, “I’ll work on it sir.” After Commander Kanopa left. He taped a sign to his office door that said “Out having fun :-)” then he turned out the light, locked the door and ate part of an MRE in silence while Noxie played soft music.

The Monday Morning staff meeting was underway when Captain Baker said, “Commander Overmyer, first welcome back, it’s good to see you back with us. But where is your commander?”

“He is indisposed and he asked me to cover the meeting for him.”

“Can you ask him to join us?” insisted Captain Baker.

“I’d rather not ma’am ... In my opinion he needs to have a long conversation with a mental health professional.”

“Ma’am, he had a nasty breakup. He’ll get over it,” said Commander Kanopa.

“Bad break up?” asked Captain Schirra. “She was cut to pieces in front of him. His RIO was cut in half. Right next to him was his Aunt and his Cousin’s corpses. Lord knows what happened in his mind after he dropped an atomic bomb on his home planet.”

“On Mars the man that killed his parents shot Alan then committed suicide in front of him,” said Rob Overmyer.

“This is a bit more than a nasty breakup,” said Wally Schirra. “The guy shot himself in front of Alan?”

“No sir, he stepped outside.” A euphemism for being spaced. It’s a pretty accurate euphemism.

Wally immediately put two and two together. Overmyer was covering up for Alan. “Are you saying that in front of Alan Scarlett he voluntarily stepped into an airlock, hit the cycle button, and went outside?”

Commander Overmyer thought for a moment. If he had his hands on the throat of someone who slaughtered his family, would he press the airlock cycle button and watch him die? Of course he would. A man protects his family, and convincing someone to step outside, even on Mars, sometimes had to be done. “Yes sir.”

“I suggest we contact NCIS and convene a criminal investigation into the death of this man,” said Captain Baker.

“It’s not going to do you any good,” said Captain Schirra. “Very soon, he’s going to be one of the most decorated O-4 officers. We put him through a meat grinder and denied him access to a mental health professional? That will not reflect well on your records.”

“I’m his commander, it’s my call,” insisted Baker.

By the time the McDivitt docked with Armstrong Station, a huge investigation into the death of Dr. Howard Burgman was underway, but they were tripping over the feet of the Joint Committee on Homeland Authority investigators. Soon, the full extent of Doctor Burgman’s treachery was exposed. NCIS gave up on the investigation. Far too many people heard Alan begging Dr. Burgman not to kill himself.

“Alan ... Commander Scarlett,” said Doctor Rhea Seddon. She peeked into his office and he was strapped in his office chair, but it was clear that she just woke him up. “Alan, we’ve docked.”

“Sorry I missed the brass band and confetti. I’m just not feeling very Navy anymore.”

“We weren’t going to make a big fuss over you.”

“Wally was.”

“Yeah, he was pretty angry you didn’t show up for your own award ceremony.”

“With luck he’ll throw me out.

“I doubt that. You’re the son he never had; he’s got plans for you.” She wrote something on a note pad and handed it to Alan. “Go over to Armstrong and get something to eat on the Earth Ring. I suggest Los Jimadors.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a Mexican Restaurant.”

“Oh ... what’s A Jimador?”

“It’s a Mexican farmer who harvests agave plants that are used to make tequila.”

Alan considered it for a bit, then said, “What’s a Mexican?”

“SERIOUSLY?” asked Rhea, but Alan just shrugged. Countries that disappeared a hundred years previously were not studied in High School on Mars and what was once seven different nations, including Mexico, is now merely known as The Central Zone.

“I’ll explain it to him over dinner,” said Anna as she peeked in the door. “Come on boss, pack your bag. We’re moving into VOQ.”

“VOQ?”

“Yep, we’re getting a new flight deck section,” said Doctor Seddon. “It’s going to be awesome - room for three squadrons and a fast launch alert section.”

Alan shook his head. Rhea was the most bloodthirsty MD in the Navy. She loved saving lives, but she enjoyed taking them, too. He started packing his overnight bag and said, “Ma’am ... did Hilde’s legs ... did they have to come off again?”

Rhea sadly nodded her head, but she said, “I’m her doctor, I can’t talk about that.”

Alan sighed. “Come on Noxie, we’re moving.” He opened his A3 bag and stuffed it full of clothing that was stuffed into the filing cabinet, then he grabbed Noxie, his charging stand, and keyboard, and they headed down to the shuttle dock. The shuttle connected to the McDivitt a few minutes after they called for a ride. It wasn’t a long trip. The McDivitt was docked to a maintenance pier separate from Armstrong, and they saw the new deck system being readied at the next maintenance pier. Soon, they docked at Armstrong’s central hub and headed for the elevator plaza. They looked up the location of VOQ and found there were multiple Visiting Officer’s Quarters and one was named “VOQ - FLEET.”

“It’s right next to Captain Schirra’s office ... that’s got to be ours,” said Alan and they took the elevator out to Earth Ring. It had been a half a year since Alan felt Earth-like gravity and he felt exhausted just walking to the VOQ office. “Commander Scarlett, you and Lieutenant Vasquez are in suite three.”

“Together?”

The clerk looked at the screen and said, “You’re a flight crew in the 43rd? Captain Schirra wants you guys to room together.”

“I don’t ... I’m ... I can’t...” sputtered Anna.

“We’ll be ok,” said Alan, and he took the key card. They found the suite. It was the nicest room Alan had ever seen. The living room/kitchenette was bigger than Ray’s entire apartment. The bedroom was big and comfortable, and there was a business office with a single bed. “They must be expecting one of us to work for a living,” said Alan.

“I don’t feel comfortable...”

“You’re safe. If you were a foot taller, blond, and lunar, with tits the size of volley balls ... then you’d have a problem.”

“Then I’d have a date for tonight,” said Anna and she walked into the office with her bag.

But Alan said, “Uh uh, that room is mine. You get the bedroom.”

“But you’re the commander!”

“That’s right, and I’ll be working here.”

Later that evening, they found their way to Los Jimadors, and it was packed. “Let’s go get a hamburger,” said Alan. As they were stepping out of line, the maître d’ came up and said, “Commander Scarlett? Admiral Darwin invites you to dine with him and guests.”

Desperately, Alan tried to think of an excuse to refuse. Admiral Darwin was commander of the Seventh Fleet. Every Naval spaceship between earth and Uranus was under his command. “We’re not in uniform,” said Alan.

“There are no uniforms allowed in Los Jimadors.”