//------------------------------// // Chapter 7: Watch Out for Jayhawks, you Cornhusker! // Story: The Mississippi Voyager // by Alden MacManx //------------------------------// Monday, 3 April 2017, 0700, West Bottoms Pier, Kansas City, MO Captain Crane waited on deck under cloudy morning skies as the Painted Sofa’s delivery truck pulled up on the shore. Five beings got out of the truck and headed for where the Captain waited, by the port gangplank, they being Roscoe the beagle diamond dog, Morgan the teenage thestral stallion, Firebrand the red unicorn, Silverwing the orange pegasus, and Chopin, the blue breezie. Roscoe carried a large wooden box in his arms, while Morgan had a case strapped to his back. The captain welcomed them aboard, directing them to the Lounge area while he raised and stowed the gangplank before following them inside. The lines had already been taken in, Julia watching from the bridge. Once the gangplank was locked down, she applied full power, heading upstream. Inside, as Jason laid out breakfast for the Voyager’s crew and guests, Captain Crane gathered the visitors at the large table, along with Frack, Doctor Macombe, and Second Officer Milsap. “Okay, has anyone managed to figure out the vision Raven sent you yesterday?” he asked. “Yes,” Silverwing said. “It took a few hours of comparing notes to assemble the picture. “Apparently, at six forty-two p.m. tonight, a meteor is going to come from the southwest, impacting in or near a lake between Topeka and Lawrence. The meteor itself is about the size of an average two-story house, and is made of nickel-iron. Raven says weapons made from the remains of the meteor will be very potent indeed, with the proper enchantments. Of course, the problem will be getting at it,” she reported. “What about Leavenworth?” Second Officer Milsap asked. “Someone returned there within the past week, someone Raven would like to have rescued. Whoever-it-is isn't a tribal member, but Raven is sure said person would be better with our tribe than being killed in the debris fall,” Morgan said. Of everyone there in Kaycee, he was the most tech-oriented, being the one who ran the drones. He had brought a drone exploration kit, to help in the search. “Will Kansas City be alright?” Doctor Macombe asked. “One thing ah do know about meteors is that they do pack a lot of punch, especially if they hit the ground.” “There will be SOME damage, but nothing on the scale of buildings falling,” Firebrand replied. “Broken windows, stuff falling off shelves, yes. It’s coming from the southwest, about bearing two-three-zero. Very shallow angle, so it will kick up a debris field that is more linear than circular. Leavenworth is directly in the line of fire. Kansas City is more off to one side.” “So we won’t have to worry about Voyager being damaged by fallout?” Howard asked. “Very, very unlikely, Captain,” Firebrand said. “If you want to head about ten miles downstream after the pickup, you’ll be just fine. Let’s just hope that the search won’t take all day to do.” “Amen to that. We should be by Leavenworth at about nine-thirty, two hours from now, give or take. By then, I want you all to pool notes, to give us a better idea on where to look, okay?” Howard said to those at the table. “One thing we’re sure of is that it’s at the Fort, not the town. If one is to take refuge at a fort, where would be the likeliest to go? Where will you find what you need to survive?” Chopin squeaked. Frack spoke up. “I’m going to bet on the Exchange. It’s what Harry Bell did in Key West when he Returned, and that’s where we found him and one other, Tina Kovacs. Tina’s having the time of her life in Europe, learning how to use her gargoyle talents, as well as getting to fly a helicopter again.” “Good a place as any to start. Now, what we’re going to have to do is FIND the Exchange. Not like any of us have been there,” Howard said after a mouthful of sausage based off of fish, instead of pork. “Pahdon me, Captain, but ah have. True, it was back in the Eighties, but ah did two weeks T.A.D. theah. If they haven’t moved it, ah know wheah to fahnd it.” Lucien drawled. “Were you in the Army, Doctor Macombe?” Morgan asked. “Nope, Louisiana Air National Guard. Ah did active tahm all over the world, even did a month in Kuwait as part of a med team. Ah’ve been damn neah everywheah, son. Kuwait, Arabia, Germany, Vietnam, Italy, Japan…” Lucien orated to a fascinated audience- of one. Using the language of glance, Howard got everyone else at the table to gather their dishes and move to a table on the far side. Nobody hesitated. Oblivious to everything but his audience, Lucien kept on talking, and talking, and talking… “Well the brag is on and there goes Windbag up the backstretch, Headache’s a-going to the inside, My Tears are holding back and trying not to fall…” Frack sang quietly. What surprised everyone was that the Captain picked up where Frack left off. “My Heart’s out of the running, True Love’s scratched for another’s sake, the race is on and it looks like Windbag, and the winner loses all…” he sang, in tune and on key. When he noticed everyone at the table staring at him, Howard just shrugged. “Always did like George Jones.” Fort Leavenworth, KS, Monday, 3 April 2017 1000 hours The Mississippi Voyager was nosed into a small river spit, only the forward gangplank being long enough to get to shore without the boat bottoming out. Morgan had his big eight-rotor camera drone up, heading into the base, with a rough printed map next to him. Two teams of two, Frack and Bernie on one team and Silverwing and Carroll on the other, headed up and out as well, going to different areas of the base to commence a search. Roscoe, Firebrand, Aaron Tereshkov and Captain Crane stood out on the deck, watching the teams fly out. “I knew there was something we forgot when we outfitted this boat…” Howard grumbled. “What’s that, Captain?” Aaron asked. “A couple of golf carts for enhanced mobility and scavenging. We can put a garage on deck and we can drive off on the gangplanks. I’ll send a memo to Colonel Forest to suggest building some into the Ranger and follow-ups,” Howard said. “I know that getting some vehicles up and going has made our lives a lot better in Kaycee,” Firebrand said. “It’s just that bringing a vehicle along that a pony can handle is not easy. Frack’s good at converting vehicles.” “I said something last month to the effect that the manuals for these boats have not been fully written yet. I’m positive we’re going to find a whole lot of ShipAlts for the next edition,” Howard grumbled. “ShipAlts?” Roscoe asked. “Ship Alterations. When you find something useful to add in or just plain forgot to put in, write a ShipAlt to fix the problem. This is just a prototype,” Howard explained. “We knew we were leaving stuff out that we would like, it’s just we had no idea what.” “Captain, can you step inside? I think I found something,” Morgan said over the radio. The Captain gestured to everyone to follow him inside, and so the group went to where Morgan had his drone setup, in a corner of the Lounge. “What did you find, Morgan?” Howard asked. “Switching images to the big screen,” Morgan said as the sixty-five inch screen lit up. The display was of the front of a building, a doorway that was obviously kicked in. The picture zoomed out, to reveal that it was the Fort Leavenworth Exchange. “Thought you would like to see this, sir.” “Good thinking, Morgan. Now, where is the Exchange in relation to the Commissary?” Howard asked. “Right next door. This damage caught my attention first. Let me survey the commissary to see if there are any signs there,” Morgan replied as he guided the drone to the next building, then dropped low to circle it. It wasn’t long at all before they found something. “There! An open emergency door!” Aaron exclaimed, sounding startled by the sight. “Correct, Aaron,” Howard said. “Morgan, can you get closer?” “Right away, Captain. Glad it’s calm right now,” Morgan said as he dropped the drone lower while zooming in on the door. Something came into focus when the camera looked inside the door. “Hoofprints. But, they’re not regular. Something looks off about them,” Howard mused as he and the others looked at the image. “Looks t’me that someone has broke a foreleg somehow and they’s staggerin’ about best they can,” came the voice of Doctor Macombe, coming from the kitchen with a mug of coffee and a croissant in his glow, having been locking up the healing potions and looking at the books Roscoe had brought aboard. “Wheah this at?” “This is at the Commissary. There’s a door kicked in at the Exchange as well,” Howard told Lucien. “Okay, then. Let me get my kit. Route the flier teams to the open doors and do a search. Firebrand, you is with me. With a broken foreleg, he or she sho’ ain’t gonna come out to see the doctor,” Lucien said like a colonel in command would. This time, Howard did not object. Medical matters were in Lucien’s purview, and he agreed with the decision. Howard raised his radio. “Galactica to Recon Vipers One and Two. Home in on the Exchange and Commissary buildings. Evidence of a survivor found,” he said. “Doctor will be leaving momentarily.” “Recon Viper One copies,” Frack’s voice came back over the radio. “Recon Viper Two copies traffic. Bring the drone up to one hundred feet altitude, so we don’t smack into it,” Carroll reported. “Raising drone to one hundred feet, Drone Control aye,” Morgan said as he raised the huge eight-rotor drone. Only a few seconds later, Carroll and Silverwing came into view. They chose to go into the Commissary and look around. “Drone Control to Recon Viper One, Viper Two has entered the Commissary. Suggest you enter the Exchange. There is an open door on the south side. Suggest you check there,” Morgan said over the radio. “Recon Viper One copies, Drone Control. Coming up on the buildings from the south. Keep the drone high, we see it and are using it as a guide. Should be there in a minute or so,” Frack reported. “Drone Control aye.” Lucien came out of the lower level corridor, wearing his first aid kit saddlebags. “Firebrand, let’s get moving. Let us hope we can fahnd someone we can heal,” he said as he headed for the door. “We should, or else Raven would not have called us last night,” Firebrand said as she got in behind Lucien. “Keep in touch!” Howard shouted as they left the lounge. At the Commissary, Carroll and Silverwing made their way in. Whatever rotting that happened in produce, dairy and frozen foods had long since faded, so the scents inside were not too bad. Looking about, the first thing that stood out was a shopping cart partially filled with dried meats, grains, fruits, cans of beef, chicken and tuna, some bottles of water and a batch of steak knives, along with more than one large first-aid kit and extra gauze and bandaging. “Looks like someone was planning ahead,” Silverwing commented. “Sure looks like it. The hoofprints in the dust look a little off to me. Not a pony, not a buffalo, but something else. I wonder who came back,” Carroll said as she looked about the store, which was overall neat, but some sections were disturbed. “I’m willing to say that whoever it is knows the Commissary well, and maybe the entire Fort. Whoever-it-is, we don’t have a whole lot of time to find it. The rock is due at six forty-two, and it’s after ten,” Silverwing said quietly as she looked around. “Quick aerial recon?” “Go for it.” Silverwing took off, taking care not to ram the ceiling. She flew some laps around the big store before coming back to do a neat four-point landing next to Carroll. “No one here, unless they’re in an office.” “If that’s the case, why would they leave a shopping cart full of goods by the back door?” Carroll asked. “Good question.” Next door, Frack and Bernie checked the outside of the Exchange before settling at the broken door. Cautiously, they went in. “Dark in here…” Frack muttered. “Won’t stop me any,” Bernie said as they started their search. They looked around, section by section. Electronics, apparel, uniforms came and went with no sign. Then, they got to the Furniture Department. A faint light caught their attention, so the pair headed that way. A shot rang out, the muzzle flash showing where it came from, the bullet going well wide of where the two were. Frack, of course, took extreme umbrage at being under fire. “Now, knock that off!” he bellowed. “We’re here to help you, not hurt you! Damn it, I’m sick and tired of being shot at, and if you do it again, I’ll kick your damn ass from here to Omaha in three boots!” “Like Hell you will, you damn Cornhusker! I’ll boot you from here to Lawrence in ONE shot!” called out a woman’s voice. “You two just knock it off!” Bernie shouted, bringing her Floridian accent to the fore. “We’re here to get you out of here, because in about eight hours, this whole area is going to be right in the line of fire from an impact event!” “How would you know that?” the voice from the darkness asked. “When a deity is kind enough to give us twenty-four hours notice, you tend to take their word for it!” Bernie shouted back. “May we approach? If needed, we’ll send for our doctor!” “You got a doctor? I can use one,” the woman’s voice said. “The pain’s not helping my temper any! Come on in!” The pegasus and thestral carefully moved through the store to the dim light. There, under the feeble glow of a battery lantern on its last dregs, a four-legged form lay on a display bed. The left front leg was obviously broken, crudely bandaged and splinted. But, what caught their attention was her ears. They were long, pointed and gray-furred with a black fur rim. “A donkey?” Frack said in amazement. “You better not even think of the word ‘jackass’ in my presence, buster!” the donkey said, definitely not on the happy side of things. “Frack, call in our location, tell them we found who we are looking for, and have Lucien double-time it here, okay? I’ll sit with her while you do that,” Bernie said, slowly approaching the stricken donkey. “Whatever you say, love of my life,” Frack said before moving away from them before pulling out his radio. “Recon Viper One to Galactica. We found her in the Exchange…” he reported. “Recon Viper One?” the donkey said, incredulous. “Frack’s been a sci-fi fan since he was a kid. I’m Bernie Larsen, what’s your name?” Bernie asked as she came a little closer. “Master Sergeant Jenny McLaine, instructor at the Command and General Staff College here. Can you tell me what in hell is going on here?” Jenny asked. “I can and will, until the doctor gets here, okay? We’ll have to get you to the Voyager fast and get the hell out of here,” Bernie said as she sat down on the floor, where Jenny could see her but out of hoof’s reach. “Voyager?”  “The Mississippi Voyager, the riverboat I’m assigned to. Frack, my husband, is the Chief Engineer. Lucky for you we were nearby when we got word,” Bernie told her before getting on with the story.