Interlude Nineteen: Colonel Avi Goldman (Patreon)

Avi Goldman loved London. Whether it was the Globe theatre, London Bridge or Charing Cross station, the city had a feel of history you just couldn’t get anywhere in America. The Tower, for example, was older than the United States.

He’d been a young officer here once, early in his career. A career that had brought him in touch with many bright British lads and lasses, as they worked together to figure out the secrets of the aliens.

Fifteen years ago. A lifetime as some reckoned it.

He’d made some good friends along the way. And one who had been more than a friend.

Group Captain Molly Pemberley smiled at him from across the dinner table. “How have you been, Snake?”

“All good, Mongoose.” Avi smiled. “Surviving. You?”

“Pretty good. Nick’s in Year 10 now. He has your eyes.”

“I wish things could have been different.”

“We both had duties of our own, Snake. I don’t have any regrets. You shouldn’t, either.”

Avi sighed. “You still in touch with that ex-husband of yours?”

“You know his name, Avi. And no, I’ve cut off all ties with Nathan. Nick doesn’t even know him.” She took a sip of her drink. “How are your kids?”

“Paul is seven, and Lily is five.”

“Still at the stage where they listen to their parents, I see?”

“It’s quite a challenge.”

“And Harriet?”

“We’ve been happy.”

Molly nodded. “I’m glad you found someone.” She set her drink down. “Well, now that we’ve relived the old days…. what can MI5 do for you?”

“The U.S. Army wants access to the prisoners.”

“You and the rest of the world.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

“Unless you know someone who can speak their language, that’s not going to happen.”

“Have you figured out what to feed them?”

“Fortunately, yes. There were a bunch of ration packs in the captured ship. We offered a pile of them to the aliens, and they’ve been eating a pack every ten hours.”

“That’s good. We still think the U.S. can be of particular help.”

“More than the official channels of the Stratospheric Guard? I respect you, Avi, but you’ve got to give me a reason to push this forward with Windsor. And General Fontaine, who’s the Stratospheric Guard liaison involved.”

“Jacques Fontaine is personally liaisoning on this?”

“Yes. The second-in-command of Europe operations for the Stratospheric Guard is signing off on every request to see the prisoners personally. Which makes me real thrilled.”

Goldman winced. “Fontaine hates Americans.”

“He doesn’t hate you, he just thinks Americans are a bit overbearing. But he’s all praise for your boy Belessar.”

“He’s not my boy.”

“Well, if you want access, your delegation should come with Belessar. Fontaine’ll probably sign off on that. Would your budget cover it?”

“Belessar’ll do it for free.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “He does work for you guys for free? What’ve you got on him?”

“It’s not like that. He’s a genuine guy. Although he does have a need for technology samples.”

“Ah. You share the tech insights from captured devices with him?”

“Where possible. We’d also like to share some of the samples from the captured ships with him.”

“That’s an easy sell. Windsor signed off on having all four second wave inventors study the captured tech.”

“He may need to carry out some destructive tests on the samples.”

“He breaks stuff often?”

“He has some kind of analyzer that consumes the entire sample. It’s weird.”

“Powers often are.”

“Well, he spits out a blue ball of light which dissolves the object being studied.”

“Okay, that is a little weird.”

“Can we sign off on a few samples being - dissolved?”

“Probably. This is only this time, though. How long can you get him for?”

“A couple of days, I think. I’ll talk to him.”

“I’ll get Windsor to talk to Fontaine. You, Belessar, maybe two more people.”

“Six?”

“Don’t push it, Avi.”

“Sorry.”

“That’s okay. We both have roles to play. Speaking of which - unofficially, Windsor wants to know Belessar's likelihood of showing up for future fights."

"High. He actually wants to fight, and not just for the money."

Pemberley nodded. "A genuine guy, you said. Willing to put himself on the line for the rest of his team, too." 

"Quite. He volunteered to carry out healing for wounded soldiers afterwards. Helped out at several hospitals."

"The SAS troopers with him said he helped heal them when they were pinned down."

"That's like him."

"So, how many battles before he gets called up to Skyguard?"

Goldman swallowed. "Conservative estimate is ten. Maybe twelve."

"Two years, then. Maybe three."

"If we're lucky. If he doesn't get cut down in the middle of an assault."

"There is that, too." Pemberley drummed her fingers on the table. "Less than one per cent of the ultras who show up have the right mindset. Less than half of those have the right powers to make a difference. And barely a third of those know how to use their powers effectively."

"Belessar's the one-in-six hundred type."

"And those that do eventually get called up to Skyguard - usually too soon. How old is he?"

"We think he's eighteen."

Pemberley's eyebrows shot up. "You think. You don't know."

"If we knew for sure, we might be in violation of OPAC. It doesn't sit comfortably with me either."

"So, judging by what you said...." Pemberley trailed off. "He's going to have a school named after him by the time he's twenty-two."

"Unless he slows down. Which we can't afford for him to do, because then we have to write a lot more letters home. The unit we've got with him... they watch his back."

"How'd you manage that?"

"We got lucky. He actually likes them, enough to listen to advice."

Pemberley snorted. "A teenager who listens to advice. Wonders never cease."

"Considering my own future, that doesn't sound very reassuring."

"Oh, you get used to it. So, why don’t you tell me more about Paul and Lily?”