Chapter 261

"My Prime, at your convenience, I have something to show you." At least that was how Jeff's mind interpreted the Ship's mental voice.

"I'm on my way."

A little later, after asking Arlene to go with him, the two sat on their command couches on the bridge.

"As you know, since detecting the dimensional ripple, I have sent out six probes, stationing them in a globe array around this system and slightly past what your astronomers refer to as the Oort cloud. To refresh your memory, I remind you that ships dropping out of or entering warp produce a distinct signature which I refer to as a pulse. This usually isn't detectable for any great distance when a drive is functioning properly, approximately a light minute out from the source. Whatever occurred to cause the ripple, I have not received another like it, but each of my probes has detected several ... abnormalities over the last hours. These abnormalities were not pulses or ripples, but rather something analogous to the static you sometimes have on your radios, but this 'static' happened across the dimensional barriers."

"Is this a ship?" the Prime asked.

"I cannot state that definitively one way or the other, but since all the detectors received it at the same time, it would seem that it is a warp signature of some kind. But there seem to be contradictory occurrences. I should not be able to detect a warp signature at this distance, yet I seem to have done just that. As I've said, the first ripple was definitely from a much greater distance than a warp signature can normally be detected, and it was a ripple rather than a pulse. This was still different, but it like the other, gave little hint as to direction, and this time, none as to distance."

"Gut feeling?" Jeff sent.

There was a slight hesitation. "I suspect that your 'gut feelings' are a result of several of your mental abilities working in concert, and as you are well aware, I have no 'gut, ' but..."

"But ... you're a lot more than a computer, and all three of us know that. Guess."

The Ship let out a mental sigh. "I do not..."

"Guess."

"Since whatever is happening is affecting the dimensions, my postulation is that it is indeed a ship. Perhaps its drive operates on unfamiliar principles or, as I have speculated before, it is malfunctioning."

"And, if we search a few light years in the general direction you have speculated, we might be detected and thus risk giving away Earth's location," Jeff inserted.

"Yes. Your original orders preclude my investigating more aggressively. This ship – if it is a ship – could well be part of a larger force, whether friendly or not is beyond my capability to determine at this point. I feel confident that I would win should a battle ensue, but few things are certain in a space battle, and not knowing its or their capabilities, I cannot say with certainty that Earth would not consequently be detected. They would certainly be curious about where I came from and might well begin a search of the area if I or my probes were noticed. And ... I can say with certainty that any aggressive spacefaring race will win over a non-spacefaring race. One of the prerequisites that you have instilled in me is the protection of your planet. Without Earth to protect, I would investigate that sector of space until I encountered this abnormality, but that option is not open to me at this juncture."

Arlene sat up and turned to her father, speaking aloud as well as mentally. "Daddy, I could take that little scout ship I trained on in the simulator..."

"You mean the mission where you died? Not no, but hell no."

"But in the sim, they didn't detect me when I was sitting right next to their base..."

"No! End of conversation, Wife. But just like on that mission, we wait and listen. We will know more before I put lives at risk. Besides," he said, knowing he was going to get her full attention, "First Officers don't go off in scout ships on dangerous missions; they make decisions, and then send someone else to do the spying."

"But you went on missions all the time," she countered almost defiantly.

"Yeah, and how many have I gone on in the last two years, huh? The General promoted me right out of combat," he finished, his voice sour.

"But you went on the avalanche control helicopter this morning," his daughter-wife pointed out. "By using your own logic, you should have sent someone else."

"But..."

"But nothing, Husband. You knew something bad was going to happen, but you didn't let someone else go; you went yourself. So why can't I go scout this out? I still remember the pain, simulated or not, when all those energy beams caught up with me. I'll be extra careful."

Jeff reached across and pulled her onto his lap, then pressed his mouth hard against hers. After a moment, she pulled back from him and dropped a seeming non sequitur. "In case you haven't noticed, Husband, you're in the doghouse with all your wives."

"But I haven't done anything..." Then his mind made the leap and he knew. "Shit!"

"Yep. And now you know how your wives feel. You put yourself into a dangerous situation, presumably because you knew you were the best for the job, and ... I'm the best for this scouting mission. More than that, I'm the only one trained for it, other than you, that is. And I can just about guarantee that the Ship won't let her Master go on a real mission of this type."

The Ship chimed in with, "Affirmative!"

"What's the expression?" Arlene said with a giggle. "Hoist by your own petard?"

"Damn my petard. It is not going to happen. You are not going on any scouting mission," the Prime said, coming to his feet and putting Arlene on hers.

"But it's the logical solution," Arlene persisted as they walked off the bridge. "There could be a whole armada of ships out there, or maybe it's just a ship that's in trouble and the crew doesn't mean any harm to anyone."

"Fuck logic. You. Are. Not. Going."

"I'll help smooth things with Momma if you'll let me go," Arlene teased.

Jeff just grunted.

Fred and his family had left for home, as well as Van, Jeremy and their extended family. Jeff sat in the living room, his wives conspicuously absent. Eric came to the doorway, but stopped.

"Come on in, Eric. You don't need an invitation." As Eric walked on in, Jeff pointed to the coffee table. "There's coffee if you want some."

Eric poured himself a cup and sat across from the Prime. The two made small talk for a couple of minutes before, "Okay, there's obviously something else on your mind."

Eric cleared his throat. "Uh, Jeff, are you sure you want me to be part of this training? I mean, well, ammo costs money, and I can just imagine how many rounds we'll fire..."

Jeff interrupted the new Alpha with a chuckle. "You might not fire nearly as many rounds as you expect, at least not with conventional ammunition. Oh, you will get to fire some conventional weapons, but you will do most of your training with our pulse rifles. They put the M-16 rifle and the M-4 carbine to shame, even a heavy machine gun, and under certain conditions, even an anti-tank round. Although the last puts some extreme wear on the barrel and eats up an energy pack."

Eric took a sip of his coffee as he digested what Jeff had said. Then, after taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he continued, "I would love to be part of the training, but Angela, the girls and I should be starting back to Kingsport. I don't have a job anymore and we all need to sit down and figure out what I'm going to do for a living. I checked my e-mail a few minutes ago, and the company has sent me notification that they did, indeed, terminate me, but at least they direct deposited my last check, so I don't have to worry about that, anyway."

Jeff didn't respond to what Eric had said, but rather, "Didn't I hear you say that Angie was a teacher?"

"Uh, yeah. She quit to help take care of my girls, but she's kept her certification current. She's the major reason Alice and Terri are what they are. I don't know what I would have done without her."

"You said that the four of you needed to decide what you were going to do for a living, right?"

"Uh, yeah. I try to include my girls in major decisions. That way, they'll have some decision making history when they're married and on their own."

"We did the same with Arlene – still do. So, what are your thoughts about another job? Surely a good pharmacist can get a job most anywhere."

"Well, I took off from work without permission, and let's face it, the company was looking for a reason to fire me. Now they can replace me with a new grad for half what they were paying me. But if I want to start out with a new grad's salary, I can probably find a job at one of the company's competitors. For darn sure, I'll never again make the salary I've been used to. The big outfits don't give a damn about their employees, or length of service with them, but just the bottom line. Chances are we'll have to sell our houses and move."

Eric thought for a few seconds before going on. "I've been able to save some, and Angie has offered to add to that. With what we have, I could probably get bank financing for enough to open my own store, but first I'm going to have to find a good location at a price I can afford. Somewhere, hopefully, where one of the big chain stores won't move in right next door. The only way that I can see to compete with the big boys is to have essentially the same type of store they have – big, and full of every item I can make a profit on."

"Have you ever been to Winter Park?"

"No, but after you told me where we were, I looked it up on the computer."

"Maybe you should ride down and check out the town. You can take one of my vehicles any time. The area just might fit your criteria for a store location."

" ... Or maybe I need to forget my pipe dream and start sending out job applications."

Jeff sat thinking for a moment, then, "What if you had the backing to build that fantasy drugstore?"

Eric had been staring at the fire in the fireplace as he worried. His head snapped up and he locked his gaze on Jeff. "Are you saying..."

"I have the money. With it, you can build the biggest super drugstore around. Hell, expand your idea to fit the area. Skis, skiing paraphernalia, winter wear, even rent snowmobiles. Rent bicycles in the summertime and the riding gear for them. Around here, they turn the ski trails into bike trails in the summer. Go big. Sell or rent everything. It worked for Wal-Mart. In addition, Frank Wainwright could probably help with getting you better prices on a lot of things you would want to put in the store to sell.

"Here's another idea. Create a section of the absolute top-of-the-line items. The wealthy frequently buy the most expensive things they can find. They would never buy a moderately priced pair of skis when there is a pair that costs four times as much. Stock for them and price that section for the wealthy. They like to brag about how expensive their purchases are. Give them something to brag about. Frank could put out the word to the wealthy crowd. It worked for a little dress shop that we buy from. The owner is practically coining money now. Come to think of it, make the drugstore part of the larger store, instead of the other way around, and name the store something catchy."

"You would do all that for me – for us? But Jeff, even with your ideas, no way is a drugstore a sure deal, even your super drugstore or whatever we might call it. I could go belly up practically overnight."

Jeff grinned at Eric. "Then again, we could go into business together. I'll finance the store and you run it, a fifty/fifty deal. That way you wouldn't have any risk at all. And I think Winter Park would be a great location for a super store that sells everything. We could blanket the surrounding area with advertising, including Denver and Boulder – have a countdown for your opening day. What do you say?"

Eric found himself speechless, then, "Shit, Jeff, you would be screwing yourself. No telling how long it would take to make your investment back."

Jeff was shaking his head and grinning. "I don't think so. I think you would soon be making money hand over fist. Martha is putting in a high-end restaurant with a big name chef. She's already having to fight the crowds of people who flock in to spend atrociously to eat the chef's excellent food. And ... I imagine this investment would please my accountant immensely. Surely there would be a deduction or two in there somewhere.

"There's something else. You said Angie was a teacher. Suppose she would want to work with Helen in our school? There's a hell of a good salary and benefit package to go with the job. Free housing on Matthews' mountain, free food, plus the best health plan on planet Earth. It's called Little One. We might be able to work in a trip to the other side of the galaxy one of these days, and oh yeah, a free private school for your girls, and the school is under the same roof, so no way would they be subjected to another kidnapping."

"Jeff, I don't know what to say."

"Why don't you go have that family meeting? We'll talk more later."

Eric stood and started toward the door, then turned back to Jeff. "Why are you doing this for us?"

Jeff grinned at the new Alpha. "Did you think I was bullshitting about us being brothers? I have money coming in faster than I can spend it, plus I have a couple of ideas for more inventions that I expect will bring in even more money. I put money in a couple of start-up companies that are making me a ton of money, and I have an investment guy that must have a four-leaf clover welded to the middle of his forehead. You're my brother. Alphas stick together. Now go talk to your family, and oh, by the way, welcome home."

Matt, Courtney and Bridget, on their way home, had topped the mountain at Berthoud Pass, the mounds of snow on either side impressive where the plows had thrown the snow out of the roadway. Matt pointed to a large orange sign beside the road.

Warning Back Country Skiers. Avalanche Blasting At Any Time Using Long Range Weaponry.

"Guess that's what we've been hearing," he said.

"They don't have to tell me twice," Courtney remarked just as they heard another rolling blast in the distance.

Later, they turned onto Interstate 70. Matt reached to turn off the radio after the weather forecast. "So the front is moving slower than they expected. If I manage to get off, we might be able to make it back to the Retreat before the next snowstorm hits. If you ladies want to go, that is."

Sitting behind him, Bridget leaned forward a bit in her enthusiasm. "Well, you know I want to. Arlene said I could shoot an autoloader once I managed to control most of my flyers."

Matt glanced in the mirror to grin at Bridget. "For someone who was afraid of guns a little while ago, you certainly seem to have changed."

"Well," Bridget complained, "that shotgun almost tore my shoulder off, so who wouldn't be afraid of guns after that? Besides, I like Arlene, and she's really good at teaching – at least teaching me to shoot. You two should have seen her. I was ... well, scared to death of the gun, uh, revolver. I insisted that she shoot first. She ran the target out to twenty-five yards, then fired off nine rounds. She didn't even seem to be trying very hard. When she brought the target back to us, the X was completely gone from the silhouette. She put every round right through the center of the target."