“Congratulations, Captain!”
Captain Black barely registered
Colonel White’s words as he stood facing him in the Control Room. White had
just notified him that he was the World Government’s choice to lead the mission
to Mars. The unexplained signals emanating from the red planet had been picked
up by Spectrum in recent months, and suggested they were from a technologically
capable intelligence. How this
intelligence had remained hidden for so long from the curious ears and eyes of
the Earth was another mystery that they hoped to solve with this expedition.
“You seem to have lost the power of
speech, Conrad,” White added in a gentler tone.
“I'm still reeling from the shock,” Black said.
“Surely you were aware you were one
of their top candidates?”
“I had heard I was in the running.
But my first priority is to Spectrum – and to you.”
“Well, it looks like even in the
face of your disinterest you're the one they want. You can’t be thinking of
turning it down, surely?”
“I feel badly about leaving you,
sir.”
“And the feeling is mutual. But I
think this mission is of the utmost importance to the entire human race. We may
be witnessing the dawn of a new era in mankind’s history; the possibility of
first contact with intelligent life beyond our own planet. To be chosen to
spearhead such an endeavour, well, it’s not the sort of life-changing event
that comes along every day.”
Black cleared his throat and stared
off into a point beyond White’s silver mane. “I know. It’s all I ever dreamed
of when I was a boy. To go into space; to see what was ‘up there’.” His eyes
snapped back into focus. “But I thought that career was finished, sir. In fact,
I’d grown quite used to the idea.”
White raised a stately eyebrow. “Spectrum will still be here when you return.
And if you still feel that it would offer you a challenge, assuming that
another taste of space travel hasn’t changed your mind for good, for my part I
will be only too glad to have you return to us.”
The lines on Black’s face creased in
the beginnings of an answering smile, but he continued to remain silent.
“If you’re worried about me, then don’t be,” White
continued, “We have a fine group of senior officers, thanks to your training,
may I remind you. I know you sometimes look upon them as a somewhat disparate
rabble, but they really are the best in their fields.”
“Even though some of them
occasionally behave like children,” Black said, his forehead morphing into a
frown.
White’s mouth twitched at the
corners, and Black realised his statement probably sounded a little odd coming
from someone who wasn’t a great deal older than the other senior officers. But
in many ways he felt light-years of distance between them and himself.
“So, do you accept?” White said.
Black didn’t answer for a moment.
“You need time?”
“It’s – like you said – an important
job. I want to make sure it’s the right thing for me to do.”
White’s eyes held a tinge of surprise, but he simply nodded
with understanding.
Black left the control room, his
mind a swirl of unused emotions. Wasn’t he too old to be a space jockey? He
hadn’t really taken much note of the fact he was being considered, firstly,
believing that he didn’t really stand a chance, and secondly, being preoccupied with Spectrum and all it
entailed for his dream of a secure world.
Now, he had twenty-four hours to make a decision. He wandered towards
the staff canteen. Perhaps eating a delayed breakfast might settle the
fluttering in his stomach and help him decide what to do about this bombshell
in his life.
Harmony Angel sauntered gracefully into the staff canteen.
It had been a long night, as she had doubled up on duty shifts as a favour to
Symphony. Regulations forbade
consumption of edibles in the supersonic jet, and she was ravenous. She trailed
her eyes over the eclectic offerings on display, a nod to the various
nationalities on board the massive airbase, and chose a bowl of rice to go with
her eggs, together with a mug of jasmine tea.
She stifled a yawn, grabbed her tray, and turned quickly to
go to the tables –
– and bumped
straight into Captain Black.
Crockery and food
vaulted off the tray and onto the floor, and some of the tea splashed onto
Black’s boots.
“Captain, I am so very sorry,” the oriental girl said,
feeling a flush of shame on her cheeks at such a blunder. She bent quickly down
on one knee to pick up the broken items, as did Black. An orderly ran out from behind the counter
with a vibro-cleaner that removed the offending materials in seconds. The two
Spectrum officers stood up, and Black pulled down the edges of his tunic before
looking at her.
“It was entirely my fault, Harmony, I wasn’t paying
attention.”
“Nor I, it seems,”
she replied.
Black’s eyes narrowed. “You look tired, have you just come
off duty?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then, allow me to buy you another meal.”
“That is not necessary –” Harmony began.
“I’m insisting on it.”
She finally assented with a bob of her dark head, and
followed him with another tray to collect her breakfast for a second time. She glanced around the large utilitarian
room, practically empty save for a group of interceptor technicians in one
corner. Loud guffaws of laughter echoed across the room, and she suspected they
were enjoying yet another one of their vast repertoire of risqué jokes.
For a moment she and Black stood
awkwardly holding their trays,
“Captain, do not feel you have to –.”
“Nonsense, it would look rather odd if the only two senior
officers sat apart from one another,” Black said, indicating a table. But as
they sat down, Harmony had the fleeting impression that he really would have
preferred to be alone.
As they sat down, she lowered her head slightly to eat her
food, but she couldn’t help watching him through the veil of her lashes. Black
removed his plate of eggs and sausage, followed by his whole-wheat toast and
lastly his pot of tea from the tray, and put the latter to one side. He waited
for a few seconds then opened the lid of the pot, swirled his spoon around the
inside, and replaced the lid. He then poured a small amount of milk into his cup,
she noticed it was a cup rather than a mug, and followed it with some of the
tea from the pot. There was something in the way he did it like a ritual, with
such absorbed attention, that was almost Oriental.
It was not in her nature to judge people by their outward
appearance. Most certainly Captain Black gave the impression, with his brooding
hawk-like gaze, that personal relationships did not interest him. She, like
most of the other senior officers, knew little about his background, and,
because nature abhorred a vacuum, rumour was the order of the day. Certainly, his taciturn demeanour and sharp
remarks resulted in ‘repelling boarders’, as Captain Grey put it, amongst the
senior staff. Of course, it was understandable that commanding officers needed
to remain slightly aloof and detached from their subordinates; however,
sometimes she felt that the some of the other captains’ comments bordered on
the unkind.
A few more minutes passed while they both sat in mutual
silence, then Black muttered, “Damned tea tastes like dish water.”
Harmony couldn’t help raising her head, and her eyes met
his.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to blurt out what I was
thinking.”
“Please, there is no need to apologise.”
“The bursar seems to have difficulty remembering my English
Breakfast in his supply roster. You wouldn’t think it would be the most taxing
thing in the world to figure out.”
Harmony wasn’t sure if she was expected to give a reply, so
she decided the best course of action was to remain silent. She knew it was
impossible to satisfy the exact requirements of every ethnic group on board
Cloudbase, and so that usually meant that individuals asked their families to
send food or drink items to the carrier; after they had been cleared by
security. She herself often asked her mother to send a special green tea and
miso soup. She felt a small pang of sympathy for the man sitting opposite her.
He evidently had no such family to care for him, or friends for that matter.
“Look, Harmony, I’m not one for small talk, I hope you
don’t mind.”
“Not at all, morning is my quiet time too.”
He nodded, as if well satisfied with this arrangement, and
the two of them continued to eat. But
Harmony couldn’t help stealing glances at her companion, and although she truly
didn’t know him very well, there was something in his manner that suggested
there was something bothering him. The way he stared at his cup with furrowed
brow, she suspected it wasn’t entirely due to the tea. In fact, he seemed to
have forgotten her presence altogether, until finally she saw him blink, as if
his thoughts had discharged like lightning to earth.
He gave her a brief nod, grabbing
his tray, brisk and business-like again. “Thank you for your company, Harmony,
it was –” He seemed to struggle to finish the sentence.
“It was my pleasure,” she said, “I
found it most relaxing, to have your company without the need for idle
conversation. If you do not consider it an offence, I would say you are almost
Japanese in that respect.”
“I’m not offended in the least.”
She was surprised by his smile, and
in an instant, she felt the hand of fate gently push her into saying something
she would later regret.
“I would consider it an honour to have your company again,”
hoping that the words did not make her sound too forward, or even worse, too
obtuse. The nuances of the English language still sometimes confused her,
despite years of speaking it.
Black cleared his throat, as if suddenly embarrassed.
“Well, I’ll have to be getting on with my duties.”
“Of course, please
do not let me keep you any longer.”
As he left, Harmony remained at her
seat, listening to the sounds of chatter from the technicians across the room.
There were several occupants in the Officers’ Lounge.
Captain Grey was poring over his personal data-pad, deep in technical thought
at the designs for his new type of aqualung gear. He hoped to have the prototype ready by the time he took his next
furlough, for he couldn't wait to dive into the warm azure waters around the
coast of Mexico to put it through its paces.
Captains Scarlet and Blue had finished a rather less
technical, but no less satisfying game of racquetball in the gymnasium. The two
men still sported flushed faces from their exertions and damp hair from the
shower-room. Scarlet ambled across to the fridge in the small kitchen area and
hunted around for something to quench his raging thirst.
“Well, who won?” asked Grey, looking
up from his blueprints as Blue sat down heavily in one of the chairs opposite
him.
“Guess,” Scarlet said as he stood up from the fridge. He
threw a bottle of chilled water at Blue.
The Bostonian caught it in one hand, his rangy body barely
moving from his chair, and said, “Me, I’m afraid.”
Grey shook his dark head with a wry
smile. “Oh boy, Scarlet, that’s the
third time this month Blue’s given you the run-around, huh? You’re going to
have to do something about this; it's getting to be a habit.”
Scarlet took a long slug of water
before replying. “Hmm, I might have to do something drastic, like getting an
arm transplant. Another six inches
might do the trick.”
“Go and ask Fawn, maybe he'd
oblige,” Grey said with a chuckle.
Captain Ochre happened to enter the
lounge and caught the end of the conversation.
His mouth curved in a sardonic grin.
“It sounds like Scarlet needs some help with his love life.”
There was a mutual groan.
“Rick, you've got sex on the brain,” said Grey. "Maybe
you need a cold shower, or two.”
“Need something to eat first,” the
Midwesterner replied, wandering over to his latest model; a perfect replica of
one of the Viper aircraft that the Angel Interceptors had been based upon. He
picked up a delicate piece of the wing, unable to resist adding it to the
construction. As he did so, Captain Black entered the lounge. His dark eyes
raked the room, and alighted, raptor-like, on Ochre.
“Where's that report I requested,
Captain Ochre? It should have been in my log several hours ago.”
Ochre frowned. “Give me a break. I've been busting my ass
for the last ten hours in the monitor room.
I'll get it to you as soon as I've grabbed some food.”
Black’s eyes narrowed as he stared
at Ochre’s model. “That doesn’t look like your top priority at this moment in
time. May I remind you this is a top level security base, not a children's
kindergarten? If you spent half as much time on your job as you do on your
hobby, you'd be heading up Cloudbase. It makes me wonder how you ever got to
where you did in the police force.”
Ochre's jaw tightened and his brows
lowered dangerously. “You’ll have it, okay?”
“Just make sure that I do. Any more
time-wasting, I'll consider it a breach of duty and send you to the brig.”
Ochre opened his mouth to reply but
Black turned smartly on his heel and exited the lounge leaving the American
fuming with embarrassment at being treated like some kid out of junior-high.
“What’s eating that guy?” he muttered to no one in particular.
“Don’t be too hard on him,” Scarlet
replied.
“Jeez, you Brits just have to stick together,” Ochre
interrupted him sourly. “I bet you got your report in on time, huh, Scarlet?”
“Greenie let slip he got an offer to go to Mars,” Grey
said, as if that in some way assuaged Black’s manner.
Ochre whistled in surprise. “Well, maybe he should
concentrate on that instead of giving the rest of us a hard time,”
Blue stretched his long legs and
took a long draught of water. "The only one who's getting a hard time
seems to be you. Maybe that tells you something? Anyway, you have to admit you
deserve it, after what you did to Symphony.”
“Yeah, and when I find out which
smart-mouth told him –” he gave Blue a pointed stare.
“I wonder if he’ll go,” Scarlet said
distractedly, breaking into their argument.
“Who knows,” Blue replied. “He’s not
exactly an easy man to read at the best of times.”
Black made his way back to the
monitor room on his continuing tour of duty. He didn’t feel any remorse at
giving Ochre a verbal trouncing, but he realised he had felt a lack of control
in baiting the American. He was letting the decision he had to make get to him.
His thoughts touched for a moment on
the atmosphere of easy camaraderie that he had encountered in the Officers’
Lounge, and he felt a sudden spasm of envy. He damped down the emotion quickly.
It was wasted effort. They could afford that sort of intimacy; in his position
of command he couldn’t. He turned his thoughts instead to his impending
decision. The clock was counting on whether he wanted to stay on Cloudbase or
not.
In one respect the decision was easy. He hadn’t made any
friends here; no one would miss him, apart from Colonel White of course. On the other hand… the thought of accepting
this assignment, of the inevitable thrust of being flung back into the
limelight, to the scrutiny of the world, filled him with nameless dread. He’d
grown used to anonymity, and found solace and comfort in the relatively
mind-numbing regimes of training and re-training the recruits for
Spectrum. But was that what he wanted
to spend the rest of his days doing? That, and waging war on a bunch of
once-eastern-Europeans who couldn’t just knuckle down and join the world’s big
happy family like everyone else?
He exhaled sharply. This wasn’t getting him anywhere, and he
didn’t understand why he was having such a hard time making the choice. Maybe
he should just toss a coin and be done with it. He thought about his pleasant
breakfast with Harmony. He always had a lot of time for the young woman, but
today was probably the first time he had sat alone with her, and discussed
something other than work. He wondered if that was because, as she had so
disarmingly put it, they were temperamentally similar. Like a lightning strike, a wild idea entered
his head, that maybe he could discuss his dilemma with her, as if her slant on
the subject might help him make a decision. He immediately dismissed the
notion, realising she would consider that a sign of weakness. Not something to
be encouraged if he did decide to remain with Spectrum.
“Have you heard the latest, girls?”
Rhapsody Angel said to Harmony and Symphony as they alighted from the interceptor
tube in the Amber Room.
“Shoot,” Symphony replied, shaking
her long braid free of the restrictive flight helmet.
“Captain Black’s going to Mars!”
Harmony listened with sudden
interest. “This is official, yes?” she asked Rhapsody.
“Well, no, not exactly.”
“So, it is people making an
assumption.”
“What’s life without a bit of
gossip, Chan?” Rhapsody said, giving the oriental girl a quizzical look.
Symphony flopped onto a couch. “He’s hardly likely to turn
it down. Be crazy not to go. Heck, I’d give my right arm in his place.”
“I do not feel it is right to
discuss it, not when he is still considering. It is – jumping the horse?”
“Gun, Chan,” Symphony replied,
“jumping the gun. What’s with you? Never heard you take sides with ol’ misery
guts before? Remember how he drove us nuts during our training?”
Rhapsody giggled. “Not to mention
our dear captains. But I suppose he didn’t really do anything that awful to
us.”
Symphony snorted. “Yeah, unlike someone I could mention.
I’m not forgiving Ochre for oh-such a long time. It took me forever to wash
that dye out.”
Harmony gave a little shrug at her
fellow Angels’ banter, and turned her mind to the breakfast with Captain Black
and the vibrations she had picked up from him. Perhaps the decision was not as
simple for him to make as Symphony thought.
Black had little time to wrestle with his conundrum, as
Cloudbase duties took precedence in the following hours and well into the
afternoon. But he knew he was
procrastinating. Colonel White hadn’t brought it up once, but time was running
out. He was on his way back to his
quarters when a soft voice stopped him in the corridor. He turned in surprise
to see Harmony trying to catch up with him.
He stopped and waited for her. When she was almost abreast of
him she gave him a nod of greeting. “Captain Black, please excuse me for
interrupting you, but I wanted to offer you an invitation – to a tea ceremony.”
Black blinked. “Excuse me?”
“It is a Japanese custom.” She lowered her eyes a fraction.
“I hope you do not think me presumptuous.
We meet once a week, in my quarters, myself and several other Japanese
personnel from Cloudbase. It is a small reminder of home.”
“I thought your family was from China?”
"Yes, on my father’s side. My
mother is Japanese and I spent much time there.”
“Yes, of course, I forgot.”
“My mother's sister insisted that I
knew how to perform the tea ceremony, otherwise I would not be a proper
Japanese girl and never get a husband.”
She gave him a small smile and Black realised she was
making a joke. He felt the shell of his armour crack, just a fraction, with the
realisation that the young woman was sharing her not often disclosed sense of
humour with him.
Then he frowned. “I wouldn’t be an appropriate guest.”
Harmony shook her dark head with a
delicate movement. “All of us speak perfect English. This is not an issue.
Please, we would be honoured by your presence, if it is not a trouble for you
to attend.”
“It’s very kind of you to offer, but
– I’m – I mean, I have a lot on my mind.”
“Of course, I understand perfectly.
But sometimes it is better to pause and clear one’s mind from the noise
outside, in order that we hear the small voice within. That is the purpose of
the tea ceremony. To outsiders it looks merely pretty, but it is all about
purifying the spirit within.”
Black felt an uncommon swirl of warmth in his guts as
Harmony’s almond eyes locked with his, and her gaze remained resolute. He
deduced that, in her enigmatic oriental way, she was offering to help him with
his dilemma, yet doing it in a manner which precluded actually saying so. ‘Saving face’, was the Japanese expression
for it, he recalled. And of course, it worked both ways.
“I’d be honoured to accept your kind invitation.”
She smiled and gave a little bow of her head. “Hai. We meet tonight at twenty-one
hundred hours, and for only thirty minutes, so it should not take you away too
long from your duties.”
“Very well, I’ll – look forward to
it.”
Black arrived at Harmony's quarters
two minutes before the agreed arrival time. He hesitated for a second before he
tapped the access panel. Too late, the
door slid open and any second thoughts he had about turning tail were
dismissed.
He tried not to stare, for Harmony stood in the doorway;
petite and exotic in a full-length, pale yellow silk kimono, her feet in the
traditional wooden shoes, and her hair pinned with combs. She bowed briefly to
him, her fingertips touching together, as if she was praying.
“Please, enter. You are exactly on
time,”
He walked in to the small living
area. His first impression was surprise, as it was uncluttered, free from the
usual paraphernalia he usually associated with the female sex. There was a
calligraphic scroll on the wall, and below it, on a small table, a simple
flower arrangement of dried willow and cherry blossom. His nostrils were filled
with a sweet burnt smell and he sniffed unconsciously.
“It is sandalwood incense,” Harmony said, noting his
gesture
He nodded, grateful for her perception, and then his gaze
alighted on the three other guests standing just beyond Harmony, beside a
large, obviously non-regulation straw mat placed on the floor. He nodded
awkwardly in greeting. They returned tentative smiles, obviously as
self-conscious as he was.
“We would like to welcome our honoured guest, Captain
Black,” she said to them.
The three Japanese bowed briefly in his direction. His mind
did quick recall of their names: the two young men were Jiro Kitamura,
codenamed Lieutenant Malachite, and Hiraku Sumimura, an aircraft technician.
The young woman was Yuriko Mizumo, a monitor room operator.
Harmony handed each of them a small refresher wipe, and
spoke for Black’s benefit: “Traditionally, the host would offer the guest a
bowl of water to clean their hands, to purify themselves in preparation for the
ceremony. But of course, here on Cloudbase, space is limited for a garden and
teahouse.”
Black returned her small smile, as
he wiped his hands with the moist towel.
“With this, we symbolize the leaving of the coarse physical
world, and enter the spiritual world of tea: chanoyu,” she intoned with reverence.
Harmony gestured to the mat. “Please,” she said, indicating
that they follow her. With utmost poise, she took tiny steps in her long kimono
over to one edge of the mat. For the first time he noticed the exotic
implements laid out in a geometric manner on a black lacquered tray: a highly
polished ceramic bowl and a red lacquered jar; a scoop, ladle, and whisk made
of gnarled wood, and a white silk cloth. Next to all of this, an ancient kettle
simmered upon a twenty-first century heating tray.
Black took his
cue from the others and knelt down beside Kitamura, facing the remaining two.
Lastly Harmony knelt down and intoned: “We are all equal in
the tea ceremony, irrespective of status or social position. Here we may find
the harmony and balance that we all seek. By attending to the details of the
ceremony, it is a way for the participants to leave their worries and other
worldly affairs aside. Afterwards, we have a clear mind to deal with these
important things that require answers.”
With that she began to attend to the
details of the ceremony. Black took his cue from the other Japanese and gave
his entire attention to Harmony. He watched as she unfolded the silk cloth and
wiped it gently around the bowl. This done, she placed the bowl precisely onto
its original spot. She proceeded to repeat these actions for the ladle, whisk,
and scoop in turn.
Black was drawn further into the mesmerising ritual, and
watching her graceful movements, he felt every single hair on the back of his
neck rise up, the sensation prickling along his forearms like a fine electric
current.
After a long moment of contemplation, she removed the lid
of the jar, and scooped out three portions of green powder into the bowl. She
ladled in water from the kettle, and deftly whisked the powder into a thin
paste. Finally she turned to Black, offering him the bowl with a deep bow.
“As our honoured guest, you will drink first. You may, of
course, take your time to admire its beauty and simplicity beforehand.”
Black took it in his own two hands, raising it slightly
above his head so that the light caught the raised concentric rings of dark
green along the polished black surface. As he stared, the surface took on the
aspect of a hologram, and he felt his mind being pulled into the swirling
blackness, making him light-headed. He pulled his eyes away and brought the
bowl to his lips. He took a tentative sip. The hot liquid was bitter, and yet
oddly refreshing. He took another, longer draught, and then wiped the bowl with
his hand, passing it to Kitamura on his left.
The Japanese repeated Black’s gestures until all four of them had drunk
from the bowl.
“Now,” Harmony said, “we take a little time for
contemplation, in order that we may prepare ourselves for the return to the
physical world.”
Black saw the heads bow, as if in silent communion with her
words; and then she began to clean the soiled implements, every action as
reverent as those preceding the preparation of the tea. Again, he found himself
magnetically drawn to her movements, feeling a soft blanket of blissful
lassitude steal over him. The whirling clutter in his mind drifted off, leaving
behind a clear, clean serenity. He felt as if he was floating, and when he closed
his eyes, he imagined himself transported high above the clouds, above the
earth, blue and white; higher, and yet higher still, until he rested within the
bosom of star-stamped indigo space.
When he opened his eyes, an eternity later, he saw that
Harmony had completed her task, and waited in silence with her companions.
“I’m sorry. I – don’t know what came over me,” he said,
feeling foolish at their quiet contemplation of him.
Harmony bobbed her head. “Please, you have entered the
spirit of tea, and have lived in the moment. There is nothing to give an
apology for. And now, the ceremony is complete, and we must all return to our
duties.”
She rose from the mat, delicate as a yellow flower
unfurling, he thought. The other Japanese followed her lead, and trotted out of
her quarters, bowing their thanks to their host, until only Black was left.
Harmony raised her eyes to his. “I hope you enjoyed the
ceremony. I am very glad you were able to join us.”
Black smiled, and this time it
reached his eyes. “The feeling is mutual.” He took a deep breath, the
tranquillity still floating within him. “I – don’t know how to say this, but
there’s been a question I needed to find an answer for.”
“And have you found it?”
“Yes, yes I think I have.”
“Then, I am doubly pleased,” she said, without any further
prying into what his question might have been. However, Black suspected she
knew all along. He didn’t for one minute think that his potential posting had
remained a secret for as long as it took an Interceptor to leave the
flight-deck. He was only grateful she didn’t parade it in his face.
“Thank you, Harmony,” he said, finding an annoying
obstruction in his throat. He turned to go before he made a complete fool of
himself, but her voice stopped him again.
“Please, Captain, I hesitate to be presumptuous, but I wish
to give you a token of the ceremony.” He watched as she removed the scroll from
the wall and rolled it up very tightly, binding it closed with the red silken
ribbon hanging from its end. She offered it to him.
“I couldn’t possibly, it’s far too exquisite.”
“Please, I insist.”
“What does it say?” he asked at last.
“It is a saying attributed to Buddha – ‘Find your own
light’.”
He stood, stunned, and seconds passed; his heart beating
before he could find his voice again.
“I – think I have, Harmony. Thank you again.”
“Goodnight, Captain,” she said, as her door slid shut.
As he stood alone in the corridor of the Angels’ quarters,
a shiver ran through his body. He stood staring at the tightly bound scroll and
wondered, and not for the first time, if the young oriental woman was
prescient.
Six weeks later….
Harmony arrived at Colonel White’s desk in the
Control Centre minutes after Lieutenant Green had summoned her there.
White looked grave; however, this
was hardly surprising, given the events of the last few days. She still felt a
chill when she recalled the final transmissions from the Martian Expedition,
before the sudden radio silence that followed.
He raised his head as Harmony presented herself at the
desk, and he handed her a tightly bound package.
“The Glenn Field Spaceport personnel searched
the Martian Exploration Vehicle and found this,” he said, “Do you recognise
it?”
“Ah, Buddha,” she said with a small sigh, as she unfurled
the scroll.
For a brief second her universe stopped. She was plunged
into the darkness of hell and an endless tortured scream echoed around and
around her head.
She blinked, feeling her uniform clammy and restrictive
against her skin, and saw White regarding her with a concerned gaze beneath his
beetled brow.
“Are you all right, Harmony? You’ve turned as pale as your
uniform.”
White pressed a button on his console and a stool rose from
the floor in front of the desk. She
sank down on it, grateful, and sought to gather her wits in front of her
commanding officer. She had no idea what just happened to her. But it had
thrown her badly.
“I – I invited Captain Black to a tea ceremony just before
he –.” she faltered for a moment, as a hard lump suddenly constricted her
throat. “I had no idea he had taken it
with him to Mars,” she finished quietly.
White nodded and in an uncommonly softer voice,
said, “You still look shaken, perhaps you should see Doctor Fawn.”
She continued to roll the red silken knot in her fingers.
“I feel - responsible, sir,” she blurted out.
“Whatever for?” White’s eyebrows
shot up.
She bit her lip suddenly, not
knowing why she had said such a thing.
“Harmony, I think you should explain
yourself,” White continued in a calm tone.
“Perhaps, if I had not pushed him
into coming to the ceremony, he would have made a different decision.”
“You mean – not to go to Mars?”
She nodded desolately.
White came close to sighing himself. “I don’t think you can
second-guess his decision. He may very well have come to the same conclusion
for himself.”
“Perhaps,” she said, with a shiver, and tried to dispel the
death-like chill that surrounded her like an invisible shroud. “Sir, I sense
something tragic has happened to him – to Captain Black. When I touched the scroll, it was like –”
Her voice broke and she bowed her head, closing her eyes. “I cannot explain.”
“We don’t know he’s dead, Harmony. Someone piloted the MEV
back to Earth, and an eye-witness saw a man dressed in a black uniform leaving
the Spaceport.”
“Then why has he not returned to Spectrum?”
For a moment, White didn’t reply, and when Harmony lifted
her head to look at her commander she saw the new lines of strain that
bracketed his craggy face, testament to the news from the ill-fated
mission. Finally he said quietly,
almost to himself. “I’ve been asking myself that very same question, over and
over. Conra – Captain Black wasn’t the easiest man to know, but he was totally
committed to his duty, and to Spectrum, and to the idea of a peaceful world. I
cannot believe he has gone over to our enemies.”
White glanced at the chronometer on the wall and a shadow
passed across his face. “You know, I almost forgot. Today is his birthday.”
Harmony felt a deep sadness well up inside her, and didn’t
truly understand why she felt this sense of loss. She told herself she hardly
knew Captain Black, and yet, that evening, when they had shared the Chanoyu ceremony, she had sensed the
stirrings of a friendship between them.
“Then I shall say a prayer for his return to celebrate
another,” she said quietly to herself.
“THIS IS
THE VOICE OF THE MYSTERONS. WE KNOW THAT YOU CAN HEAR US, EARTHMEN –”
Author’s
notes:
As always, the characters from
the TV series: “Captain Scarlet and the
Mysterons”, are the property of the companies that own the rights to the
series.
I’d like to thank Marion Woods for her insightful (as
always,) comments, and to Hazel Kohler for beta-reading the story.