Rubbing his claws against his chest to sharpen them, Admiral 2c1b2t watched the recording of the battle between his hunter fleet and the alien ship. As soon as the recording started he shouted, "Stop!"
His aide stopped the recording and looked at the screen. There were seven pictures showing the views from all seven ships of the hunter fleet. Admiral 2c1b2t said, "Do you see that?"
"What?" the aide asked wondering why they had to do this right before lunch.
Admiral 2c1b2t said, "They fired right as our ships slowed to fighting speed. The Captain hadn't even started his scan yet."
"Ah, you are right, sir," the aide said. The signatures of twelve missiles heading towards the hunter fleet were clearly visible when the initial scan started.
Pointing a claw at the screen, Admiral 2c1b2t said, "Do you see that! Twelve missiles! They can only fire twelve missiles."
"Yes, sir," the aide said not nearly as excited as the admiral. He could add as well as the admiral. Four ships were each reporting three missiles heading towards them.
Admiral 2c1b2t stared at the screen for another moment and then said, "They are a filthy race. Do you see how much debris is there?"
"Yes, sir," the aide said. It did appear that this race did leave its trash in space.
"It is a hazard in navigation," Admiral 2c1b2t said.
"Yes, sir," the aide said.
"Play it," Admiral 2c1b2t said staring at the screen. A few seconds later, he clicked angrily and said, "They got four of our ships."
"Yes, sir," the aide said wondering why the admiral hadn't known that was going to happen when the sensors reported that four ships were targeted with three missiles each.
"Stop," Admiral 2c1b2t clicked. He stared at the screen and said, "Do you see that? They fired just before our ships returned fire. They can fire just a click or two faster than us."
"Yes, sir," the aide said thinking that it was more like a half a thrum faster.
"Play it," Admiral 2c1b2t said completely focused on the screen. The displays went out just before their missiles reached the enemy ship. He clicked his frustration and then said, "They got the last three ships. That one ship killed a whole hunter fleet!"
"Very tragic," the aide said staring at the blank screen.
"Back it up so that I can see what happens just before our ships get destroyed," Admiral 2c1b2t said.
"Yes, sir," the aide said while he dialed the recording back. Once he was a second before the ships were destroyed, he started the replay.
Clicking madly, Admiral 2c1b2t said, "I couldn't see what happened to the alien ship. Back it up again and then play it slowly."
"Yes, sir," the aide said following orders.
"Stop!" Admiral 2c1b2t said. He gestured at the screen with his claw and said, "Do you see that? Do you see that? Forty five missiles are about to strike the alien ship!"
"Yes, sir," the aide said counting the missiles displayed on the recording. There were forty-five missiles just about to encounter the shields of the alien ship.
"So our fleet destroyed it," Admiral 2c1b2t said sitting back pleased with the result. No ship could resist forty-five missiles.
"Yes, sir," the aide said.
Once his pleasure over the alien ship getting destroyed had subsided a little, Admiral 2c1b2t silently stared at the screen. He said, "One ship destroyed a hunter fleet. That is not good."
"Yes, sir," the aide said.
"They had a big advantage though," Admiral 2c1b2t said rubbing his mandible with his claw.
"An advantage?"
Admiral 2c1b2t said, "Yes. They were not moving and were able to fire first. The first ship to slow always has the advantage."
"Yes, sir," the aide said.
"The question is why the ship was not moving," Admiral 2c1b2t said thinking over the matter. The initial sensor readings said that the ship was not moving when it was first spotted. There was only one way to explain that. He said, "They have sensors that can spot our ships a little earlier than we can find theirs."
"Brilliant analysis, sir," the aide said with proper deference. He wondered how much longer he was going to be there. It was lunch time and he was really getting hungry.
"Yes," Admiral 2c1b2t said without false modesty. He said, "They spot our ships and then stop before we see them. It gives them an advantage in battle. They can fire just a click or two faster than us and that gives them another little advantage in battle."
"Yes, sir."
The news wasn't entirely bad. Admiral 2c1b2t said, "We can fire more missiles than them. That will give us the advantage when our forces meet their forces in a big battle."
"Yes, sir," the aide said.
"Have the seven hunter fleets met up yet?" Admiral 2c1b2t asked.
"Not yet, sir. They will all reach the meeting point soon," the aide answered.
Admiral 2c1b2t said, "Order them to seek out another of those alien ships. Once they've defeated the ship, they are to split into two groups and search for more ships."
"Yes, sir," the aide said glad that that he was getting orders now. That meant they would be done soon and he could go get something to eat.
"Have them transmit the battle," Admiral 2c1b2t said.
"Yes, sir," the aide said.
"On second thought, have them record the battle and transmit it back when the fight is over," Admiral 2c1b2t said. The three remaining ships might have been slow in returning fire because they were worried about broadcasting the battle back to him.
"Yes, sir," the aide said.
"Wait, have them broadcast it."
"Yes, sir," the aide said wishing the admiral would make up his mind. He was starving.
"Well, get to it!"
"Yes, sir," the aide said. The aide ran from the room thinking that he'd take care of those details after lunch.
"He's an excitable little fellow. He's very gung ho about his work," Admiral 2c1b2t said watching the aide leave the room.
Waiting for the stage curtains to open, Ann was wondering how it was that they had ended up in Nevada. When she had suggested a vacation, she had not even considered Las Vegas as a destination. She had been thinking of Paris or Rome. She was pretty sure they were going to go to Paris until James had rushed into the room excitedly pointing to a piece of paper. Now, she was about to watch what had convinced James to come here.
Looking around at the nightclub, James said, "I'm so excited."
"This was a smart idea," Ken said feeling satisfied. After gambling for most of the day, he still had five dollars left from his original stake of a thousand dollars.
"Thank you," James said nodding his head as if taking a bow. He said, "I've always wanted to see the Great Ploppertui on stage."
Kim laughed and said, "He was talking about the vacation, not the magic show."
"You don't want to see the Great Ploppertui?" James asked with a hurt expression on his face. The Great Ploppertui was only the greatest magician of all time. He said, "He can make big things disappear and reappear."
Ann rolled her eyes. For the past two months, James had talked about nothing except the Great Ploppertui. She had even enticed James into bed by suggesting that James could make a big thing of his disappear and reappear, too. He had enjoyed that and to be honest, so had she. She said, "They are ecstatic."
"They should be. We're going to see the Great Ploppertui," James said gesturing towards the stage.
The show started and James watched fascinated as trick after trick got more complicated than the one before it. The grand finale had the Great Ploppertui making a car disappear and then reappear at the other end of the stage. The car disappeared again and then reappeared where it had originally been.
James stood and clapped wildly having enjoyed the whole show. Ann wanted to crawl under the table when James started shouting, "Encore! Encore!"
"You're supposed to say, Bravo," Kim said managing to stop laughing long enough to get the words out of her mouth.
"No. I want him to perform some more," James said. He turned to the stage and shouted, "Encore!"
After James had calmed down a little, Ken said, "I take it you enjoyed the show."
"You can say that again. Isn't that guy great? Did you see how he made that car disappear and then reappear?" James replied. He wondered if he could get tickets for the next night.
"Yes, I did," Ken said hoping that James didn't have tickets for the next night.
James said, "That is his specialty. He makes big things disappear and reappear."
Thinking that her head would explode if she heard that one more time, Ann said, "We know."
"I wish that I could do that with our ships," James said looking up at the stage.
Ken and Kim looked at each other for a second. Ken asked, "Would you repeat that?"
"Huh?" James asked looking over at Ken.
"Would you repeat what you just said," Ken said.
"He makes big things disappear and then reappear," James said looking at Ken puzzled.
"After that," Ken said.
"Oh, I wish that I could do that with our ships," James said.
After exchanging a rather meaningful glance with Ken, Kim asked, "How would you like to meet the Great Ploppertui?"
"That would be so great," James said.
Chip Blatz, also known as the Great Ploppertui, was not a happy man. There were a dozen women wanting to enjoy his company for the evening and his manager was being a pain in the butt. He looked over at the man and asked, "You want me to talk to some guy rather than get laid?"
"Yes," his manager answered knowing that things were not going to work out the way he wanted. Chip was in full hormone drive that evening.
"Wrong answer," Chip said.
"He's an Admiral," his manager said.
"So what," Chip replied as a woman caught his eye. He waved over at her and then watched while she slowly raised the hem of her skirt.
"One of the officers with him threatened to draft you," his manager said.
"I'm not doing a UFO show," Chip said thinking that the woman had really nice legs that went on with no end. He licked his lips as the hem of her dress kept going up and said, "There is an end and I must say that it is a nice end."
"That's USO and that isn't what he meant," his manager said stamping his foot. He was a little man and some people thought he looked cute when he stamped his foot like that. Of course, comments to that effect tended to thoroughly irritate him and caused him to stamp his foot again. It often triggered a chain reaction of him stomping his foot thereby triggering a comment that he looked cute which caused him to stomp his foot again.
"He can't draft me. I'm a star," Chip said. He waved at the woman pleased to see that the hem of her dress had not made any progress downwards. In fact, it had just passed the top of her g-string panties.
"He can draft you. It is Admiral Kamp and he's in charge of Earth Defense."
Ignoring his manager, Chip said, "The only thing I need defending from is her husband if she's married."
His manager grabbed him by the chin and physically forced Chip to look at him. In a very loud voice, he said, "If you don't talk to him, you will be peeling potatoes on a space barge somewhere. Do you understand me?"
"What's he going to do?" Chip asked with a snort.
"He's going to draft you into the Earth Space Force," his manager answered.
"He can't do that."
"He can and he will. Go talk to him," his manager said pointing towards the curtain.
Chip looked over at the group of women vying for his attention and groaned. He said, "Look at that. Those two are kissing. I love it when women kiss each other."
"Go talk to him."
Shaking his head, Chip said, "Do you see that? I've got a woman showing me her g-string panties while she's still wearing them and two women kissing. How can anyone expect me to pass that up?"
Although James was supposedly on vacation, he still had to work on occasion. Most of the time, he had to sit in on strategy meetings, but there were occasional times when he was supposed to meet the public or others in the military. James, having been catapulted up from lowly civilian sensor specialist to Admiral overnight, was somewhat of trial for his two handlers, Ken and Ensign Powell. It wasn't even the complex stuff that gave the two men problems. There were times when they had to remind him to return a salute.
James looked out the window of the car as they approached the main building of the Air Force Academy. Men and women, all in uniform, were lined up in front of the building watching the road attentively. He commented, "Wow, look at all those people."
"Yes, there are a lot of people," Ken said.
James looked around and said, "Something big must be happening. Look at how everyone is facing the street. I think they are waiting for some kind of parade."
"You might say that," Ken said with a chuckle.
"Maybe we can stop and watch," James said turning to look out the back window thinking that the action had to be behind him. He didn't think they'd be too upset if he was a few minutes late to give his speech. He glanced at his watch and realized they were a few minutes early.
"They are here to see you," Ken said shaking his head. This was their first visit to any place that was even remotely military other than the space station and a couple of ships. So far, James hadn't had to deal with any kind of military ceremonies yet.
"Oh." James looked at the crowd of people and said, "I'd be pretty disappointed if I were them."
"I'm sure you would be," Ken said as the car came to a stop. He hoped that he'd be able to maneuver James through the next hour of activities. He asked, "Do you have your speech?"
"No, I thought I'd wing it," James said with a grin. Sometimes Ken worried too much. Of course, Ken wasn't nearly as bad as Ensign Powell. That poor guy worried about everything. James didn't think that was healthy and he was trying hard to break the young man of the habit.
Shaking his head, Ken said, "I'm pretty sure that Ensign Powell has a copy of it."
Ensign Powell had worked on the speech for two weeks solid trying to get each and every word perfect. It was elegant and thoughtful. It was the kind of speech that a statesman would give. It was everything that James wasn't and he felt that was probably a good thing. He said, "I have three copies of it in my briefcase."
"Relax, I've got it right here," James said patting the coat of his uniform. Shaking his head, he said, "You're too tense. Lighten up and enjoy the moment."
"This is a serious event," Ensign Powell said. He had nightmares of James reading the speech backwards while sacrificing a goat. Last night, he'd woken up in a cold sweat having dreamed that James had given the speech after inhaling helium.
"Really?" James asked looking all wide-eyed and innocent.
"Don't tease the ensign," Ken said.
"Yes, really. What you say here could be part of history," Ensign Powell said.
With considerable help from Ensign Powell, Ken managed to get James through all of the normal protocol without too much difficultly. Although it seemed like an entire day had passed, it was only an hour before they made their way to the raised platform from which James was to deliver his speech to the graduating class of Air Force Cadets. As they climbed the steps, James said, "Did I happen to mention that I tend to throw up when I have to talk in front of large crowds?"
Shaking his head, Ken said, "No."
Never quite sure when Admiral Kamp was joking and when he wasn't, Ensign Powell nearly tripped. It seemed to him that every one of his nightmares was about to come true. Feeling a little sick himself, Ensign Powell said, "Please don't get sick."
"That's easy to say, but hard to do," James said with a grin. He looked over at Ensign Powell and commented, "You don't look too well."
"Do you have your speech?" Ensign Powell asked clutching his briefcase tightly. For a moment, he couldn't remember if he had put the speech in it. He had visions of the admiral pointing a finger at him shouting, "You forgot to bring my speech!"
"More or less," James answered.
Seeing the confused look on the ensign's face, Ken said, "Don't tease the ensign."
"That's easy to say, but hard to do," James said with a smile.
After a few others had gotten up and given their speeches, it was James' turn at the podium. He stepped up and removed a single sheet of paper from his coat pocket. From behind, he could hear Ensign Powell, in a nervous voice, say, "That isn't the speech. The speech is longer than that."
"You might be right," Ken said.
"Oh, God," Ensign Powell said. He looked up at the sky thinking that this moment was proof that God didn't exist. If God did exist then he was a cruel God for allowing this to happen to him. He fumbled for his briefcase to get out another copy of the speech.
James snapped the sheet of paper open and said, "Ensign Powell, my speech writer and general right hand man, has prepared a nice little speech for me to give. I told him to make me sound as pompous as possible. If I can read his writing, we will see if he was successful."
There was a little titter of laughter at the joke. Ensign Powell groaned and pulled out a copy of the speech from his briefcase. James looked at the paper and read, "One loaf of bread. Gallon of milk. One head of lettuce."
"Oops, I brought the shopping list," James said looking up from the sheet of paper. He held it up for everyone to see. He looked back at the noise behind him and added, "It appears that I just lost my ensign."
As Ken and several others on the stage worked to revive Ensign Powell, James turned back to the audience and said, "While they're trying to revive him, I'll say a few words and then you can dispense with us old coots and enjoy your parties. I love parties. A party is when friends and family gather together to celebrate successes and to enjoy good times. That's what makes us human.
"When you are out there in the dark empty void of space, I want you to remember why you are there. You'll be fighting so that next year's graduates of this fine institution can stand here in the hot sun and listen to old men drone on forever," James paused and then added, "Okay, so maybe that won't motivate you to fight."
There was a little laughter at that line. James' smile disappeared as he said, "Let me put it in very blunt terms. You will be fighting for the lives of your friends and family. You'll be fighting so that friends can share good times with each other. You'll be fighting so that brides and grooms can walk down the aisle and say, 'I do.' You'll be fighting so that mothers can watch their kids go off to their first day of school.
"You see, that's what it is all about. We aren't fighting for high ideals. Ideals have nothing to do with this war. The aliens want to remove all traces of humans from the universe. We are fighting for the continued existence of humanity. We don't want human friendship, love, and laughter to die out. We want it refreshed generation after generation. That's the short version of the speech. It is as simple as that," James paused and looked across at the young men and women staring back at him with wide eyes.
Seeing that he had their full attention, he said, "Enjoy your selves this fine afternoon and evening. Laugh with your friends and family while you celebrate this major milestone in your life. Tomorrow, you'll undertake the serious job of keeping the laughter alive."
James returned to his seat amidst loud applause. There was nothing better during an event like this for the main speaker to cut a thirty minute speech down to five minutes. He looked over at Ensign Powell and asked, "Are you okay?"
"Can I have a transfer?"
"No," James said with a smile.
"I thought not," Ensign Powell said with a sigh. Not even in his worst nightmare had James read a shopping list as his speech.
"He's an excitable little fellow," James said wiggling his eyebrows at Ken.
"Don't tease the ensign," Ken said rolling his eyes at James.
One of the other officers leaned over and said, "Outstanding speech, Admiral Kamp. Even with the moments of levity, you put everything about this war into perspective. These young men and women will remember your words for the rest of their lives."
"Thank you, Admiral Karnes," James said with a shrug of his shoulders. Gesturing to Ensign Powell, he said, "It was his idea."
"Good job, Ensign," the man said. He had heard the ensign mention that it wasn't his speech. He had been there when the young man had fainted on hearing a grocery list being recited. With a wry grin, he said, "It must be a pleasure working for a man like Admiral Kamp."
"Yes, sir," Ensign Powell replied convinced there was a god and he was a cruel bastard. It was either that or he had died and gone to hell.