Ferret Patrol: Dreams, #12

This story is unique because it begins in a class room and it is up to the reader to decide wherever it is a figment of Kevin’s imagination or, indeed, it was real.

Captain Kevin Rebel is a thirteen year old student when this story begin, his friends who he will meet later in life, Piq is fifteen year old mute girl, Elo is a thirteen year old boy scientific genius.

Chapter 1

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Kevin threw himself hard down as soon as they reached the gully.  The other five of the patrol were just behind him.  He lay there getting his breath.  Someone whistled softly, he sprung up and ran up to the top of the knoll and stopped, throwing himself down again.  Ahead was their objective - the communication base.  He looked at the other five who were staring at him silently - they'd chosen their leader, but he was only a cadet like them.  It was a stalemate, someone had to be first.  Drawing his pistol, he sprung out of the grass and ran across the clearing.  He was now a clean target for any defender to shoot down.  He reached the round building and flattened himself hard against the wall on the side of the door.  He was on his own, why hadn't the others followed?

He sprung the door open and waited for a barrage of shots and then throwing himself inside his fanned out but finding no target.  The base was empty except for one ship.  He crept over, still expecting some opposition.  Jumping up on the wing and looked inside it looked functional - the gambol had been worth it.  He jumped down and ran to the door; there were still no sign of the rest of the patrol.  Kevin decided he would have to return and ran back across the clearing to where they were lying in the grass but found only impressions.  They were gone, but why?  No shots had been fired, nothing threatened them and they were obliged to back him up.

It was an hour before the tracks faded under the harder ground on an opposite knoll.  It gave him a clear view of the surrounding countryside.  A trick - it must be.  He hurried back down the hillside and across the rugged terrain to the opposite knoll.  They had disappeared there, and Kevin was hoping to find them, idle, lost but not disorientated waiting where he'd left them.  Again no sign, only the place on the grass where they had laid was evidence of their very existence.  He ran across the clearing again, any fortified position could never be taken for granted unless occupied by friendly forces.  That's clearly where they were.

The door was ajar as he'd left it.  He glanced inside and found it again empty except for one thing - the ship was gone.  He ran to where it once stood.  Had they betrayed him, simply hidden until he was out of sight and then taken the spoils of his endeavor?  He saw a container and kicked it hard, sending it spinning across the room.  Something exploded, throwing Kevin back and when his eyes cleared he was not in some remote communication base on an alien planet but sitting at the desk in a class room on the Ark.  Some of the other students were snickering - he'd fallen asleep.

Mr. Rebel, do we have the good grace of your full attendance?

I'm sorry, sir, I must have dozed off.  I had a late night.

Thank God for that, I thought my lectures were so boring they were a perfect cure for insomnia.  What is your observation of the exercise?

Exercise, sir? I'm afraid I missed it.

Come now, sir, it's in your book.  It was on the agenda today, surely you must have at least breezed over the pages.  For the last ten minutes we've discussed it in length while you were in the land of nod.  I will feel less than pleased if you haven't yet formed an opinion.

Kevin tried to think.  The dream and the exercise were one and the same, he'd simply lived it.  The night before he'd tried too hard.  His book had been missing for some time.  When it was finally found he had so many things to revise ready for the following morning.  It had been the small hours before he'd finally retired.  Which exercise was the instructor referring to - he had to take a chance.

If you're referring to the missing patrol, sir, I would return to the last place they had been seen.  Search for evidence, tracks, anything and make a decision from there.

You're more awake asleep than some of the others in fast thinking.  Do you believe there's a possibility they have just absconded with the alien ship and left you, dear sir, to your own device?

The ship was empty and the other four were outside.  All had pilot training.  It's a definite possibility but why should they abandon the comrade and what happened to them?

"While you, their leader, attacked the front door they could have entered through a side window, and when you left the communication tower, you followed an animal trail.  They grew impatient and decided to take advantage of the ship in a search sweep, standard procedure in such an event.

But no mention of the patrol sighting an aerial traffic.

He was on the other knoll by then.  They waited for him to return before taking that ship.  There was a chance he would not have heard from that distance and in the back drop of the forest would see the camouflage ship as the least expected.  Think, sir, what alternative is there?

There are many, and all add up to skullduggery.  The patrol ship waited, they didn't.  The only alternative I can think of is they were ambushed while their leader took the tower.

Why didn't they take him?  One cadet against a commando which had captured four.

A matter of timing or just bloody luck.  I can never be sure, but I don't believe the other four of the patrol would abandon their leader.

Congratulations, sir.  Out of a class of twenty you are the only one who doesn't.  Now who do you think is correct - you or the nineteen others?  It was a loaded question and he knew it.

My opinion is not important, sir.  You are the instructor; it's yours we must look to.  Kevin never held his opinion back.

Wrong Mr. Rebel.  In the field you look to your own.  Let's face it you've lost your patrol, lost an enemy ship and now you've lost yourself.  What is the next move?  Kevin wondered if this man was serious, who was the teacher here?

Examine the ground where they were last seen, failing that, dig in for the night and in the morning act from a gut feeling.  What would you do, sir?  Kevin only asked because he knew it was expected though he was sorely tempted to remain silent.

I'm not a patrolman, I'm an instructor.  Do you remain firm on that opinion?

It's the best I can do, sir.  They whole thing smells of fish - it's a setup.

You're right, sir, it was a set up.  And congratulations, top of the class.  But next time catch up on your forty winks before your shadow again graces our presence.

Kevin turned away to the rest of the class applauding.  Today luck was with him, he had read the right chapter and had the unusual advantage of living the lesson.  It would not happen again.

Mr. Rebel, could I see you for a few minutes after class.

Kevin waited until the room was empty of the other students.

Sir, did I do something wrong?  Kevin was caught off guard.

Not really, I'm just interested in how you came to your conclusion on that lesson.  You're the only student I ever had who chose that option of logic.  The situation, even self preservation was completely against you.  Your own ship was only an hour and a half march away - why didn't you return to that?  Everyone else in the class chose that option.

I think that would be falling into the enemies’ hands.  It was clear those four were captured and to abandon the communication base would be to abandon them.  Kevin knew he was on firm ground and was glad it was so.

But what good could you have done?  Your patrol has gone, the enemy vessel has disappeared and you can't fly after them without another ship.  Wouldn't it be a better idea to go back to your camp and take your own?  At lease you could use the instrumentation to survey the surrounding landscape and any aerial traffic.

It felt wrong, sir.  I had to spend at least the night there and explore every avenue.  If nothing happened by midday then I would be forced to retreat.  What would you have done?

This time Kevin meant it and he felt he was entitled to an answer.

Surveyed the position of the four missing patrolmen last being seen.  Carefully follow their tracks one by one.  If that's impossible then something has lifted them from that position and that analysis should be done as soon as possible.  You were correct, that was the first step.  The next cannot be anticipated because it's not supposed to.  The lesson is to make one critical judgment - the results dictate the next direction of the following.

Kevin felt good.  He turned immediately and stopped at the door.

Mr. Rebel - that girl, was she that pretty?

Girl, sir, what girl are you referring to?

The one who was in my classroom sitting on your lap as you slept?

The instructor smiled broadly, and Kevin nodded and left.

But the dream remained with him, he'd taken school too seriously and it should not have gone to bed with him.

Rebel, over here.

Kevin had walked into the eating area.  It was now midday and a group of students from his class had chosen a table and beckoned for him to join them.  He took something from the food selection and then sat down.

For a fearless leader you don't match it with a suitable appetite.

It was only a game and I guessed right.  It was nothing more than luck.

Kevin knew it was never a good idea to brag, it always made enemies.  He knew how petty the other cadets could be.

We think you were wrong.  The smart money says vamoose back to camp and secure your own vessel.  Without that you are one gone turkey.

I can't agree, but that's what makes life interesting.  Everyone is different.

Kevin got up not bothering to eat.  He knew he'd made enemies that day though there was no avoiding that.  They would have to get used to him and he, them.

Rebel, you haven't eaten.

Kevin had just reached the doorway when one of the students caught up to him grabbing his arm.  He looked back at the table and considered.  He didn't want to return but saw it would be a source of any bad feeling against him.

I don't have much of an appetite.  Perhaps it's drowsiness.

Food is always the best cure.  If you want my advice just lay back and let the waves roll over you.

I was asked a question.  What do I do, tell him I don't know?

My friend, if there's anyone people resent it's a smart ass.

It comes with the package, Kevin said, with a smile and appreciating the boy’s candid manner.

Take my advice and try to be wrong at least once. You've scored already with the instructor and he doesn't run this place, it's us.  We all know how good you are; now give us the chance to show you how good we are.

He walked back to the table.

Kevin considered and then followed him.

At first no one seemed to notice.  Kevin ate what he'd left and was content to listen to their conversation.  He was neither asked for a comment nor an opinion, but remained in their company until it was time for the next class when they got up.  Thankfully it had nothing to do with the exercise.

Kevin wondered the use of such logic considering they were Ark bound.  Their artificial world offered no such opportunity to test any hypothesis in the field studies.  Every student agreed it was only an exercise in mental flexibility and had nothing to do with pilot training or defending the Ark.  It was a game of invisible chess where the pieces moved around on an un-conventional board.  Tomorrow another field problem would be discussed and posed and this time Kevin would be better prepared.  He went to bed early, turning down an offer from the group he sat with to join them in a social.

The next day found him quite awake in class.  This time he did not miss a word.

A proposition.  Let us follow Mr. Rebel's coarse of action.  We hold the enemy position - what do you think may follow?

Kevin had already thought that out the night before.  He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to drift, floating around the communications tower like a dark cloud.

Inside the tower, Kevin checked the equipment.  To tamper with it would immediately bring the enemy.  It was functioning as he thought and he walked out and this time thoroughly examined where he'd left his patrol.  There was no trail which meant they could have crossed the open ground behind him.  But the mystery was the enemy vessel.  He went back inside; there was only one door - no back way and no possibility for any ship to escape.  He circled the inside and found another doorway not leading out but up a set of hidden stairs that lead to the roof.  As he emerged through a hatchway he saw it - a ship was just coming in.  One mystery solved.  It made virtually no noise and even from that short distance the camouflage was almost perfect.  The aliens were superb engineers.  That did not explain the ship he saw in the lower chamber until the floor began to open and it disappeared.  He had not seen, because of its camouflage, the pilot or any occupants.  There was a chance the patrol had returned and was looking for him, but there was something eerie about that ship and the expert way of the communication tower.  He decided that discretion was the better part of valor and to wait.  He walked to the edge and looked over.  There was no possibility of climbing down.  It was either the doorway or he sit tight.

The instructor went straight to Kevin's desk and looked him in the eye.

You're on the roof and there's an alien ship below your feet.  It could contain your four compatriots or the enemy.  It's already sunset, you carry water and a survival pack and apart from a pistol, nothing else.  When night comes you'll freeze.  What's your choice, sir?

Kevin stared back and without changing his expression smiled.

I don't know.

There was a sudden silence in class.  No one had expected that, least of all the teacher.

You don't know?  What is that supposed to mean?  You consider, wait – think, Mr. Rebel, downstairs there are four lost patrolmen waiting for you to show your face.  If not the enemy has to be brought to heel, and you have a great advantage of surprise.  You have bearded him in his own lair.  Would you throw away such a gift?  That was a loaded question.

There are more than two uncertainties and you can double that number for possibilities.  I must always assume the worst.  That the patrolmen are gone and that the enemy is under my feet.  If I go downstairs I still won't be able to see clearly because of the darkness and the nature of the vessel.  I would have to expose my position.

Kevin prayed he was wrong.  Why did he have to elaborate?  To play ignorance would have bonded better with these fellow students.

Possibilities - what are you talking about?  They're either there or they ain't.  How do you make four out of that?  How indeed, sir, he thought but dare not voice it.

That base could take a dozen ships.  If I go on the offensive they may bring another down another on my head.  I don't know, and I won't until I face it.

That did it, Kevin thought.  Such a stupid answer should place me down the back row.

The instructor spun as if to catch the students by surprise and pointed to one of them.

Well, sir, what do you think?  Is Mr. Rebel correct or has he blundered?  That was a very good question.

I think he who hesitates is lost.  I'd take the offensive immediately while the enemy is still unsettled.  If the four patrolmen do actually pilot a ship nothing is lost.  Either way it has to be the only sensible move.

The instructor asked for a general opinion from the rest of the class.  All agreed with the second and all were . . .

Wrong!  Mr. Rebel has done it again.  Have any of you ever considered the ship may actually be a drone and have no one aboard?  What do you do then - shoot it down and annihilate yourself with it?  That was Mr. Rebel's fourth alternative that he was too modest to mention.  I'm afraid my friends, we have all lost again: Rebel one, visitors zero.  Second game to the home side.

Kevin inwardly groaned.  This time he tried so hard to be wrong.  There had to be a way of ingratiating himself, perhaps if he stood up and swung at the instructor he may fail the class but win him the undying respect of his compatriots.  It had to be done.  The instructor had his back to them, Kevin got to his feet, poised and swung back but before he could deliver the blow, the instructor spun around and caught his wrist in a vice like grip.

Well done, sir.  See what I mean, gentlemen, Mr. Rebel again has demonstrated a basic principle of survival in the field.  Always mind your back and expect the unexpected.  Isn't that what you had in mind?

Of course, sir.  If a picture speaks a thousand words and action announces a million.

Kevin's arm was slowly pushed down to his side.  The instructors grip was like steal.

Well put.  Go to the top of the class again.  You have anticipated an ancient law - experience has no substitute.

Kevin grinned and slid down, still feeling the instructor’s hand around his wrist.  His arm felt numb, and he realised the instructor had found the pressure point.  He was not brave enough to dare look at the rest of the class.  Kevin thought it prudent to forget the midday meal and seek out the library.  Perhaps then the students would have forgotten the morning’s episode.  In that he was wrong.  He waited until everyone else was gone and then made his move.  Hardly had he left the class room than he was suddenly grabbed on both sides and un-ceremoniously carted off to the dinner table and pushed down into a chair while another student got his order, the same which he had preferred the day before.  Kevin searched his mind for some diplomatic solution - an apology would not be believed.

You, my friend, have a problem and it's called us.  What do we do to stop you - place a gag around your mouth or tie you to the bed until the morning?  Kevin could only close his eyes.

What can I do? He keeps picking on me and I have to say something.

Why don't you agree with the majority?  In that way he will not single you out.  The only reason he does is because he looks for an alternative to the popular opinion.  He's bouncing his own ideas around the class via your mouth.  Rebel, we want you as a friend, but you're making it hard.

Kevin shrugged.

I really tried to be wrong this morning.

Even when you're wrong you're right and that display of self defense did not help you cause.  We knew he was an un-armed combat instructor and now you've given him the chance to remonstrate on that.

I'm just another student like you.  I can't play the fool and expect to pass.  I want a flying position from this academy and hopefully a career.  I won't get either unless I show some aptitude for the profession.

We're not asking you to throw in the towel, just try to be wrong.  If he asked you an opinion again claim ignorance and say you don't know.  In that way he cannot use you as a bench mark for the rest of us.

Kevin grinned and agreed.

He did his best to enjoy the food though it felt heavy in his stomach.  The conversation drifted away from the events of the morning and he hoped by the end of the day it would be forgotten.

The next morning he found it difficult to get out of bed.  What made it worse his dreams were vivid.  He had no choice but to continue reading the lessons.  That was it, he was sick that morning, exhausted by his over study.  The instructor would be forced to choose another.  By the following day a new pattern would have been established.  Another star would shine in the heavens, and Kevin would be forgotten.  He would be just another student in the class and that was that.  Problem solved, until ten bodies presented themselves at his bedside.  Even when his eyes were closed he felt an ominous presence.  Someone shook him awake.

Rebel, you're not getting out of it that easy.  Get up, get your body out of bed, get dressed and come to class.

Kevin smiled weakly and did his best to look pale.

I feel terrible.  It must have been something I ate.

Two seconds later Kevin found himself with no sheets or blankets.  His sleeping shorts and top were quickly removed and he was hauled to his feet, dragged out of the room and the door closed behind him.  It was only when a group of instructors appeared down the other end of the hallway did they relent and push him back inside the room and waited until the trouble had passed. 

The door of the classroom opened, the lesson was about to begin.  No one dared breath and the instructor opened his book.  This time Kevin wasn't chosen.  The other student knew the lesson off by heart; he filled the place of the hero and chose his course.  Kevin listened intently trying to remember every word.  That would be his opinion also, he wouldn't deviate and prayed this morning at least the instructor would choose others.  It was a relief to listen and let someone else be under pressure.

Kevin looked over the edge of the tower’s battlement.  The sun had almost gone down; he would have to make a decision.  He couldn't remain up here indefinitely.  The aliens were back for good and even if he could survive the cool night his water and food must run out and the problem of the missing four patrolmen had hardly been solved.  He allowed himself to weaken - it had been two hours now since they'd returned and got tired of this game of cat and mouse.  He opened the hatchway and climbed down the stairs.  His position remained unknown until he opened the door at the bottom, gun at the ready.  He opened it slowly, trying to get an over view.  Nothing stirred, the ship remained there just as it had the first time he entered the communications base.  He approached, crouching as low as he could and ready to shoot anything that showed.  Even when he pressed against its side he found it difficult to see the enemy.  Surely they must be aware of him by this.

Kevin saw it was empty.  It had returned under computer control and he had spent two hours preparing himself for the conflict that wasn't there.  He touched a panel and it slid open.  The ship presented itself - an open invitation or a trap - either way Kevin had made up his mind.  He climbed inside; touched the console and immediately it came alive presenting five faces - his lost comrades.  He knew instinctively that presented five different destinations.

The instructor sat back on the top of his desk, pointer in hand.  He reminded Kevin of a maestro ready to start off an orchestra, and each of his students would be called upon to play a tune.

John, which option would you take?  You've just chosen to enter the ship, would you take it any further?

Certainly.  I would select one, it matters not who, but I consider it important to make contact as soon as possible.

Isn't that playing into the hands of the aliens?

No, sir, I'm armed, ready and in control of the ship, whereas the rest of the patrol are not.

The instructor seemed to consider this and looked around at the other students.

Does anyone have a contrary opinion?

Kevin felt every eye focusing on himself.

Mr. Rebel, are you also in agreement?  Before you answer place yourself inside that ship and see the console and the selection you must choose.  Remember not only your life is on the line but so is the rest of your squad, and consider if the alien's win this round there will be others that follow who would also be placed in jeopardy.  It all hinges on your every move.

This should be simple, Kevin thought.  Follow the others - either way I win.

I agree with them, sir.

Accepted.  Now make your selection – you, sir, are on the firing line!

Kevin felt cornered.  The instructor had taken him one step ahead.  He grimaced, he'd made a mistake and it wasn't his fault.  It was the other students who'd dragged him naked out of bed.  If they'd only listened and accepted he'd felt sick this all could have been avoided.

Kevin looked at each face, it was clearly them.  They were captive and so would he be if he blindly followed.  He was using his initiative but without intelligence it would serve him not.  He pressed instead another panel, an unknown.  The roof above him began to roll back and the ship lifted off.  But instead of coming to an efficient height it went into orbit.  Kevin tried to manually bring the ship back and found the controls were not responding.  Of course it was a drone. Even they could be operated under certain conditions though this wasn't one of them.  His destination lay ahead, a ring of asteroids.  One of them was the alien base.  Why was he taken there?  There was a whole planet to imprison him.  He would soon find out.  There were so many asteroids in the belt Kevin could hardly distinguish one from the other.  They looked like a series of large round stepping stones and he shuddered to think if they ever changed orbit and went on the rampage what would become of any planet in their path.  The ship chose the largest, big enough to be a small moon with canals and huge mountain ranges.  It came down in a death dive and Kevin desperately operated the panel hoping to break its program.  Just when he thought he was finished it decelerated with amazing smoothness.  He felt the forces on his body like the cells being pushed hard against one another for a moment and then a neutral state.  The ship was slowly approaching the base of a mountain, and Kevin knew he'd mis-calculated.  On the asteroid he was a prisoner.  He had gamboled and lost.  Ahead was a dark square which came into an opening.  The ship was cast in darkness as it entered.  He waited, pistol in hand.  The others possibly had been taken by surprise and given up piecemeal.  He would not.

After five minutes curiosity got the better of him.  If there was no atmosphere inside this chamber it would be instant death as soon as he sprung the hatch.  The vacuum would propel him through the opening and into the nearest wall like a surface to surface missile.  He would be dead before that.  A better option would now be to take control of the ship, but the hatch sprung open anyway, no doubt it was part of the computer program.  Kevin unbuckled and climbed out.  The air was clean though dry and the chamber seemed to be the center of a computer complex with wall to wall panel though no one was in sight.  Was this the main communication base, ideally situated high above the planet where its atmosphere would not hinder and long range signals?  Kevin smiled; it was now within his power to cripple the whole network.  If only his patrol was here, that's exactly what he would do, but their lives still held him in check.  He went to the nearest panel and examined the menu.  It wasn't difficult to find the five patrolmen listed as they were on the ship’s computer.

Kevin sat back feeling drained.

That was quite a run, Mr. Rebel, which has covered enough ground for today.  Do you think you made the correct choice?

Sir, I have no idea.  Not until I tried the alternative which I feel was the best course of action.

The instructor looked at the other students, and Kevin forced himself to turn.  Their hard eyes were now on him.

We have two opinions in this room, and once again yours appears to be contrary to the popular consensus.  Does anyone else in this class agree with our radical?

There was deadly silence and inwardly Kevin groaned.

I'm afraid once again you are correct.  If we followed John's coarse of action and selected one of the lost patrolmen this is what would have happened.

The instructor put his pointer to the wall and a picture appeared of a patrolman selecting one of the panels.  Immediately the control chair emitted a web like gel.  What had been a uniformed cadet was now just a covered mass, inert and unconscious.  A soft bell filled the room and immediately the students came back to life in one block, moving towards the door.  They'd had enough.

Mr. Rebel, would you stay back a few minutes?

Kevin waited.  He knew he had to go past that door and who would be waiting for him.  He hoped they would grow tired and impatient and the food would beckon them elsewhere.  It was a welcome escape if only a temporary one.

Sir, have I done something wrong?

I don't know, have you?  Why do I get the impression today you were trying dreadfully hard not to succeed?  Are you having difficulties with the other students?

Kevin knew that students and instructors never mixed.  What difficulties he had he would have to resolve himself.  To ask for help from a higher level would be the worst possible option.  He would be ostracised and never again would they consider him one of their own.

Of course not, sir, they're good boys.

Kevin turned to leave but he was blocked by the instructor’s cane.

Mr. Rebel, never be ashamed to be right and always respect your own individuality.  It's good to become one of the crowd but an outstanding performer is never admired.  Where do you see yourself when you've finished with this academy?

"Join a squadron if