“You knew my father?” I finally managed to ask.
“I still know him,” he said. He pointed to his QComm. “I just spoke with General Lightman before you arrived in my office. We talked about you, naturally.”
The words fell on me like an avalanche.
Since I was a boy, I had imagined countless absurd scenarios in which my father had somehow faked his own death, or lost his memory, or been kidnapped by the CIA and brainwashed into becoming an assassin like Jason Bourne. But the fantasies had been just that—fantasies. I’d never really doubted that he was dead. Not until this moment.
“My father is dead,” I said hollowly. “He didn’t live to see my first birthday.”
“Your father is alive,” the admiral said. He reached up to touch the jagged scar on his right cheek. “And I owe him my life. We all do.”
My mind kept rejecting that any of this was even possible. That any of this was really happening. My father wasn’t just alive, but a general in the Earth Defense Alliance? A war hero, tasked with saving the world?
I opened my mouth, but Vance seemed to anticipate my next question before I asked it.
“The EDA faked your father’s death when he was first recruited. All our early recruits were forced to cut off all contact with their old lives. In return, the EDA promised to take measures to help support each of their families financially, while they were off saving the world.”
So my father had knowingly and willingly deceived and abandoned us? How could he have—
Admiral Vance cut into my thoughts again. “Try not to be angry at your father. He did it to protect you. To protect the world. And don’t feel too sorry for yourself, either. Your family wasn’t the only one that had to make sacrifices.” He glanced down at the wedding ring on his left hand. “Trust me, Zack. Your father never forgot about you. He was actually kind of a crybaby over how much he missed you, to be honest.” He studied me. “And even though you weren’t aware of it, he actually reentered your life several years ago, albeit in a very limited way.
“General Lightman has been supervising your training ever since the Armada simulation first went online,” Vance said. “He took part in nearly all of your training missions. He also happens to be Armada’s highest-ranking pilot. His call sign—”
“RedJive!” I blurted out. “My father is The Red Baron?”
The admiral nodded.
“Is he here?” I asked, glancing behind me, wondering if he was about to walk in. “When can I see him?” I jumped to my feet. “I want to talk to him, right now!”
“Calm down, Lieutenant,” he said. “The general isn’t stationed here at the Palace.”
He flipped open a clear plastic folder on his desk and handed me the single sheet of paper inside. It appeared to be some kind of office memo printed on Earth Defense Alliance stationery. My full name, rank, and other vital statistics were printed neatly across the top, followed by several lines of text that laced heavily with a lot of abbreviations and acronyms I didn’t recognize. The admiral’s name and signature were at the bottom.
“What is this?” I asked, still trying to decipher the text.
“Your orders,” he said. “Along with your duty station assignment.”
I looked up at him. “I’m not staying here?”
He shook his head. “Most of Crystal Palace’s personnel are being relocated to other outposts as we speak,” he said. “The location of this base is obviously no longer a secret to the enemy—if it ever was to begin with. Besides, as you know, nearly all of our remaining aerial drones were destroyed when the reserve hangar went up.”
I continued to scan my orders, trying to figure out where I was being sent—then I saw it, printed near the top. duty station assignment: mba—lunar dcs.
“No way. You’re sending me to Moon Base Alpha?”
He nodded.
“It’s really up there?” I asked. “The EDA really built a secret defense base in a crater on the far side of the moon? Just like in the game?”
“Yes, Lightman,” he said. “Just like in the game. Try to keep up.”
His QComm buzzed on the desk in front of him, and he checked its display. Then he spun around in his chair and began to study the half-dozen display screens arrayed behind him.
“That will be all, Lieutenant,” he said. He pointed to the exit. “Get your uniform and report to the shuttle bay immediately.”
I stared back at him, not moving.
“I’m not going anywhere until you let me see my father, sir.”
“Can’t you read, Lieutenant?” he said. “He’s your new commanding officer.”
I glanced back down at the printout in my hand. There it was, printed just below my duty station: co: gen lightman, x.