Armada

“You shared this theory with Admiral Vance?” I said. “And he didn’t buy it?”

 

 

“Archie is a good man,” he said. “Fearless. Honorable. But the guy doesn’t have much of an imagination,” he said. “And he doesn’t know shit about common tropes in science fiction.” He grinned. “Take his call sign, Viper. He borrowed that from Tom Skerrit’s character in Top Gun, his all-time favorite movie. He hates science fiction. I could never get him to watch Trek, Wars, Firefly, or BSG!” He shook his head. “The bastard even refused to watch E.T.! Who doesn’t love E.T., I ask you?”

 

“Yeah, the man obviously can’t be trusted,” I muttered.

 

My father frowned at my sarcasm. “That’s not what I meant,” he said. “Archie is a fighter at heart. He believes we can beat them, despite their superior technology, because evolution has better equipped us for warfare.” He shook his head. “I’m a gamer, Zack. Like you. When I find myself confronted with a puzzle, I can’t help but try to solve it.”

 

He began to pace back and forth in front of me again.

 

“I want to find out what the Europans really are. What’s really down there, under all that ice?” He looked up through the dome, at the bright band of stars overhead. “I want to know the truth. I want to reach the end of the game.” He turned to locked eyes with me once again. “And I want to save the world, if I can.”

 

“How?”

 

“I’m not sure,” he said. “But I’m going to try, if I get the opportunity.” He looked at the floor. “And I wanted to explain myself to you first. So you’ll understand any actions I may be forced to take.” He shrugged. “Maybe you can explain them to your mother, if I don’t get the chance. …”

 

He trailed off. I was too frightened of what he might say to ask him to elaborate.

 

When it became clear to him that I wasn’t going to say anything more, my father reached out and pressed his hand to the scanner beside the exit. The door hissed open.

 

“It’s a lot to process,” he said. “I’ll give you some privacy to think it all through.”

 

He took a step forward, as if to hug me, but something in my eyes made him change his mind. He smiled and stepped back.

 

“I’m gonna head back down to the Thunderdome and run a final systems check on each of the control pods,” he said. “Meet me there whenever you’re ready, okay?”

 

I nodded, but remained silent. He gave me another forced smile, then disappeared through the exit.

 

Once he was gone, I sat there alone in the darkened Daedalus Observatory control room, at the center of the giant electronic ear that humanity had constructed to try to communicate with its enemy, thinking about everything my father had just told me.

 

What if he was right about everything—just like he’d been right all those years ago when he scribbled down his theory about the Earth Defense Alliance in that old notebook of his? That theory of his had seemed ridiculous at first, too.

 

I let the possibility linger in my thoughts for a moment. Then I cast one last glance up through the dome at the starry dynamo stretched out over my head, taking it all in. Then I turned and hurried out the exit, fleeing the solitude of the Daedalus Observatory as quickly as I could. There wasn’t much time left. I didn’t feel like spending any more of it alone.

 

 

 

 

 

I rode the turbo elevator back up to the observation deck. The moment the elevator doors swished open and I stepped into the large domed room, the odor of burning cannabis filled my nose. The smell grew increasingly stronger the farther I ventured into the room, as did the familiar strains of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon, punctuated by fits of only slightly suppressed laughter.

 

In the dim light, I could now make out two figures stretched out on the floor across the room: Shin and Milo were sprawled side by side, lying flat on their backs, staring up through the observation dome at the glowing band of the Milky Way above. They were passing a cruise-missile-sized joint back and forth. The Pink Floyd was cranked up so loud they hadn’t heard me come in, so I stood there eavesdropping for a few minutes while they continued a giggle-filled discussion of their favorite Robotech episodes.

 

I tiptoed up behind, then loudly cleared my throat.

 

“What’s up, fellas?”

 

Shin scrambled to his feet, looking mortified. But Milo barely even reacted.

 

“Zack!” Shin said, turning red. “We didn’t hear you come in—” He turned to point a finger at his companion. “I was, uh, showing Milo some of the things we grow in our hydroponic garden and, ah—”

 

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