Icarus by Stephen A. Fender Read Free Book Online Page A

I plan on getting back to Minos and getting
some of my past debts paid.”
       She smiled kindly. “Whether you realize it or not, you’re paying some
of them off right now.”
       Before he could ask her what she meant by the remark, she slid her
chair out and got up from the table.
       “This is good-bye?” he asked.
       “For now. Until tomorrow, that is.”
       “What happens tomorrow?”
       “Tomorrow we reach our destination, and I’ll need you by my side.”
       “Need, not want?”
       She didn’t skip a beat. “Is there a difference?”
       “And just where are we going?”
       “It’s on the cartridge I handed you. Read over it tonight, Commander.
You won’t have a lot of time tomorrow.”
       “How’s that?”
       “You’re scheduled for several hours of simulator training in the
morning, and I’ll need you in the hangar deck by 1300 for our first official
mission together. Again, it’s all on there… hotshot .” Somehow, the
nickname seemed far more tantalizing coming from her than it did from Richard
Krif. She straightened her posture, effortlessly assuming her title as an OSI
command agent once again. “Good night, Lieutenant Commander Kestrel. Pleasant
dreams.”
       “You too, ma’am.” He took a long sip from his beer as she strode
confidently away, but it did nothing to quench what he was feeling.
     
    * * *
     
       After one of the longest days of his life, Shawn Kestrel made it back
to his cabin, nearly throwing himself on his bed when it was within distance.
The odd concoction he’d drunk in Captain Krif’s private galley, sitting
stealthily in his system without leaving so much as a hint of inebriation, had
shot through his bloodstream like a rocket just after he’d finished his dark
ale in the observation lounge. The Rhea seemed to be doing end overs,
barrel rolls, and corkscrews all at the same time, and he wasn’t sure how long
his stomach could take it. He shut his eyes, blocking out the world around him
with one arm draped across his face.
       He had all but forgotten the data cartridge Melissa had given him, to
say nothing of the material he’d retrieved from the file folder earlier. He’d
decided the moment his head had touched down on his bed that it could all wait
until tomorrow. As he began to drift off to sleep, Shawn’s mind was filled with
the random thoughts he’d formulated throughout the day. Then an image of
Melissa popped into his consciousness, just as quickly replaced by the face of
his beautiful wife, gone now nearly six years. The images of the two seemed to
be tugging at his subconscious in a fight for dominance as he drifted into
slumber.

 
Chapter
3
          
       W hile
there were some traditions of military service that had long since fallen by
the wayside, reveille appeared to be one of the few that Shawn regretted was
still a part of everyday life aboard ship. When one of the notes was down too
far in pitch, Shawn assumed either the bugler was new, or it was a bad
recording. Regardless, as the sounds came over the speaker in his quarters—one
that, by some cruel joke, had been placed near the head of his bed—he slowly
hauled himself to a seated position and was poised to get up when a brief knock
came to his door. Unconcerned that he was still wearing the same clothes as the
day before, he shuffled to the closed hatch with half-opened eyes.
       He pressed the door release button and was greeted by a young female
officer—and considering the wide smile on her face, a far-too-chipper one.
       What was the time, anyway? He thought about verbalizing the
thought, but then decided he didn’t really care what time it was. It was too
early. Shawn looked at the rank insignia on her shoulder, noting with chagrin
she was a junior officer.
       “Yes, Ensign, what can I do for you?” he asked while rubbing his face,
causing the words to sound slightly slurred.
       “Sir, I have—”
       “Wait,