203. Options?

“Kyra," said John, his tone as warm and steady as polished mahogany, "thanks for coming over on such short notice. I wanted to get you up to speed on the search and rescue mission.” He had a what and he had a how, and something told him, in this conversation, the how was going to be more important than the what. Moving with the measured deliberateness of a jaguar stalking its prey, John pulled up a chair and offered her a seat.

Kyra noticed. He wasn’t sitting behind his desk and he wasn’t sitting on the front of it either (looking down at her with those paternalistic eyes). “I appreciate you thinking of me and the crew. As you might imagine, we’re all on pins and needles, and quite frankly, a little unsettled not being involved in the operation. I’m sure if the tables were reversed you’d feel the same way.” Kyra couldn’t hear it but something, some sense told her John had more to tell than he was about to say. The room held an energy, neither good nor bad (maybe a bit of both) as far as she could tell, but an energy nonetheless absent in prior meetings. His body appeared completely at ease, but it looked like a practiced ease, an ease born of breeding perhaps, an ease he wore on the outside like a favorite old leather coat rather than an ease radiating from within. She marveled at how he could do this, and debated in her mind the merits of learning such a skill, a skill she had lacked in recent days; but the more she thought about it, the more she sensed the news was not good and the more she questioned the usefulness of his facade.

“You are absolutely right.” John paused, letting her metaphor streak across the dark night of his mind, hoping for a flash of insight into the how, hoping, perchance, empathy could illuminate his delivery. “If the tables were reversed I’d want you to lay it all out, directly, so that’s what I’m going to do.” He slowed his delivery, looking for reaction in her face, but there was none. He continued. “Our teams made contact. Then we lost it, which, after looking at every possibility, can only mean one thing. They’ve taken Mairi undersea.” John stopped.

After a slight pause Kyra said. “Why would they do that? But before John could answer she leaned forward and interjected. “There’s more isn’t there? Something that has caused you to call me down here on a moment’s notice,” her eyes searching his as if they could speak directly to her heart and bypass the logic she felt she was about to hear, a subtle subtext neither needed nor wanted.

It was John’s turn to marvel. Few had her gift for perception and he found himself distracted with her ability. “Good questions, both.” Fact of the matter, he had no good answer, or that is, no good answer he was willing to share. Yul was dying. Her only chance was to get her back home as quickly as possible and even then there were no guarantees. Every day they stayed in orbit, looking for Mairi, was nothing more than another nail in Yul’s coffin. The problem, however, was a bit more complicated. Yul had sworn him to secrecy. He had given his word, not something he took lightly, yet, he knew, was now on the table; the cruelty of compromise grown in the soil of rationalization. Second, he wanted to get the whole crew of Bravo back to his homeworld, and although the thought of having Mairi, the null, was enticing, Yul was the key to making that happen. Kyra had indicated, more than once, her desire to get on the road once Mairi was back.

“Let me start with your first question. The seas on the world below hold a rather unique mineral composition. They negate, neutralize if you will, radiation—all radiation.” John paused again.

“I’m not sure I follow. Are you saying they feared you would nuke them?” John didn’t answer. “So, to protect themselves, knowing you had netted the planet and there was no escape off world, they went undersea? Oh my Janus. Tell me John, tell me that was not even an option?”

“It was not an option, as long as Mairi was on-world. Our friends don’t know that, so they sough to protect themselves.” John stood up and walked to a cabinet behind his desk. “Amsec?”

“No thanks.”

“You are right, you know.” John poured the golden liquid into a crystal decanter, placed it on the desk and sat down two glasses.

“About what?”

“There is more.” He poured one glass. “A lot more.” He poured the second glass. Without breaking eye contact he held the amber liqueur out to Kyra. “Join me. Please. What I’m about to say, well, hell, it ain’t gonna be easy.”

Kyra hesitated as if to measure the weight of his statement. Reaching out, she took the glass and raised it to her lips. John watched, amazed at how natural her movements were, how fluid, and he wondered how one so young could move with such elegant grace and poise.

“Quid pro quo,” said Kyra, knocking back the rest of the drink.

“Yul is dying,” replied John. “She has a growth and it is beyond our capabilities on this vessel to stop it. How long she has is anyone’s guess. The only chance she has is back home—maybe.”

“Okay.” Kyra held her glass out and John poured. “So, why is she still here?”

“This is the only vessel in the taskforce capable of traveling at hyper-speed.”

“Okay.”

“And, it is the only one capable of dealing with the situation on-world.” John took a sip. “We can’t leave with the voice still down there.”

Kyra sat quietly. “So, what are our options?”

Before John could answer Tom commed in. “John, sorry to interrupt, but we do have the Captain’s dinner tonight and there is the matter of your speech we need to prepare.”

“Thanks Tom, give me a few minutes to wrap things up here.”

“Kyra, please forgive me. I forgot all about the dinner tonight. And Kyra, one more thing, I promised Yul I would not reveal her illness to anyone else. I trust--"

“I understand John, no need to explain. Can we pick up on this discussion first thing in the morning?”

“Better than that, won’t you join me tonight? Formal dinner, dress whites. A time to relax and remind ourselves that we still belong to a civilized race.”

“Thanks, but I’m not much in the mood.”

“I won’t take no for an answer. Besides, I need a guest of honor and last time I checked we still hadn’t found one. Promise, we’ll leave business at the door.”

“You are most kind dear sir but—”

“I’ll take that as a yes! Dinner in two hours. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a speech to write.”

Kyra stood and smiled weakly as John left the room. Perhaps, she thought, the dinner will do me some good, a chance to get away if only for an hour or so. “Yul, Kyra here. Meet me in my quarters. I think I’m going to need your help.”

John entered his study where Tom was waiting. “How’d it go?”

“Not too bad.”

“You didn’t tell her did you?”

“Uhm, no.”

Categories: Story, Kyra, John Discovery