anyone besides those who designed it, Carl here being one.”
Ellis nodded over his shoulder at Carl, who raised his hand slightly.
“Problem is, Carl can’t fly that X-22 for shit,” Ellis said, much to the chagrin of Carl but to the delight of those who saw the astronaut’s face.
“Now, now…” Ellis said, a smile on his face and his hands up as if he expected Carl to run and barrel into him at any moment, “Carl’s a great pilot and he’ll make a helluva astronaut someday, but we need an experienced pilot at the controls of that craft.”
“Oh,” Carl said with a laugh, “and who the hell is that?”
“My son,” Ellis said, “Mark Richards. He’ll by flying the X-22.”
“What?” several of the men said at once, none more so than Carl, now standing up at the front of the room next to him. Ellis turned to him.
“Everyone on this mission has their place, Carl – even you. We didn’t count on losing Frank and–”
“But Ellis,” Carl said, moving forward, his brow furrowed and his face looking confused, “Mark’s dead.”
“No,” Ellis said, shaking his head.
“Shit,” Tommy whispered beside Turn, and Turn looked around the crowded room to see several of the other men, mainly the commanders, echoing the same sentiment.
“Ellis, Mark died in ‘Nam in ’67…I saw his plane go down myself – I saw it explode!”
Ellis shook his head, the way you’d expect someone denying he’d just heard of the death of his son for the first time to shake his head. “No, Carl, you don’t know what you saw.”
Carl scoffed and looked down and shook his head. “Alright, Ellis, then if Mark’s plane being blown out of the sky by a damn gook missile isn’t what I saw, then you tell me what it was.”
“It was a damn gook missile that you saw fly up and hit my Tiger, Carl,” a voice said from the back of the room, causing all heads to turn toward a young man with black hair, a friendly face, and nearly the exact same features as the Dutchman standing before them, “it’s just that you didn’t see the Sirian TLV-series receptor vehicle come in and save my ass just in the nick of time.”
Carl stood openmouthed, staring at an old friend, the son of his current friend, a man he was sure he’d seen die.
“You don’t look a goddamn day older than you did that morning in May,” Carl said, his eyes narrowing and his head moving back and forth slowly, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Mark shrugged. “I’m not, but that’ll all change now that I’m back here on Earth.”
“Uh…” Charlie said from the group of men staring on, “what the hell is going on here?”
Mark looked from Charlie to Ellis – his father, many in the room were just starting to realize – and cocked his head. “You want to tell ‘em, dad, or should I?”
“Why not come up here and give the old man a hug first, huh?”
Mark walked forward, his smile increasing, and he and Ellis hugged tightly, the first time they’d done so in more than ten years.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” Ellis whispered in Mark’s ear.
“You always were wrong most of the time,” Mark said, and they both laughed as they ended the embrace and looked back at the gathered men.
“Let’s just say that I’ve been off-world, not necessarily of my own accord, but for my own betterment.” He raised his hands up to quiet down the murmurs that produced, and continued on. “But now I’m back, and I know more about flying a UFO than any of you folks do, even you Stu, and you Eddie.”
Both men nodded at that, not doubting Mark’s words, for they both thought him dead as well, had attended the funeral for God’s sake!
“And we’re gonna need someone that knows how to fly one of those birds if we’re to move in under a Bernarian ship and ride her tailwinds all the way into the hangar port undetected.”
He paused and put his hands on his hips and began pacing back and forth, and if there was any
Ellis nodded over his shoulder at Carl, who raised his hand slightly.
“Problem is, Carl can’t fly that X-22 for shit,” Ellis said, much to the chagrin of Carl but to the delight of those who saw the astronaut’s face.
“Now, now…” Ellis said, a smile on his face and his hands up as if he expected Carl to run and barrel into him at any moment, “Carl’s a great pilot and he’ll make a helluva astronaut someday, but we need an experienced pilot at the controls of that craft.”
“Oh,” Carl said with a laugh, “and who the hell is that?”
“My son,” Ellis said, “Mark Richards. He’ll by flying the X-22.”
“What?” several of the men said at once, none more so than Carl, now standing up at the front of the room next to him. Ellis turned to him.
“Everyone on this mission has their place, Carl – even you. We didn’t count on losing Frank and–”
“But Ellis,” Carl said, moving forward, his brow furrowed and his face looking confused, “Mark’s dead.”
“No,” Ellis said, shaking his head.
“Shit,” Tommy whispered beside Turn, and Turn looked around the crowded room to see several of the other men, mainly the commanders, echoing the same sentiment.
“Ellis, Mark died in ‘Nam in ’67…I saw his plane go down myself – I saw it explode!”
Ellis shook his head, the way you’d expect someone denying he’d just heard of the death of his son for the first time to shake his head. “No, Carl, you don’t know what you saw.”
Carl scoffed and looked down and shook his head. “Alright, Ellis, then if Mark’s plane being blown out of the sky by a damn gook missile isn’t what I saw, then you tell me what it was.”
“It was a damn gook missile that you saw fly up and hit my Tiger, Carl,” a voice said from the back of the room, causing all heads to turn toward a young man with black hair, a friendly face, and nearly the exact same features as the Dutchman standing before them, “it’s just that you didn’t see the Sirian TLV-series receptor vehicle come in and save my ass just in the nick of time.”
Carl stood openmouthed, staring at an old friend, the son of his current friend, a man he was sure he’d seen die.
“You don’t look a goddamn day older than you did that morning in May,” Carl said, his eyes narrowing and his head moving back and forth slowly, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Mark shrugged. “I’m not, but that’ll all change now that I’m back here on Earth.”
“Uh…” Charlie said from the group of men staring on, “what the hell is going on here?”
Mark looked from Charlie to Ellis – his father, many in the room were just starting to realize – and cocked his head. “You want to tell ‘em, dad, or should I?”
“Why not come up here and give the old man a hug first, huh?”
Mark walked forward, his smile increasing, and he and Ellis hugged tightly, the first time they’d done so in more than ten years.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” Ellis whispered in Mark’s ear.
“You always were wrong most of the time,” Mark said, and they both laughed as they ended the embrace and looked back at the gathered men.
“Let’s just say that I’ve been off-world, not necessarily of my own accord, but for my own betterment.” He raised his hands up to quiet down the murmurs that produced, and continued on. “But now I’m back, and I know more about flying a UFO than any of you folks do, even you Stu, and you Eddie.”
Both men nodded at that, not doubting Mark’s words, for they both thought him dead as well, had attended the funeral for God’s sake!
“And we’re gonna need someone that knows how to fly one of those birds if we’re to move in under a Bernarian ship and ride her tailwinds all the way into the hangar port undetected.”
He paused and put his hands on his hips and began pacing back and forth, and if there was any
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