Major Evan Hues sighed as he looked out the window of the control tower. The tower presided over the most boring plot of earth the Major had ever seen. He had been assigned to his sleepy little post after a ‘difference of opinion’ with his previous commanding officer. Hues had been a little overly ambitious there, and the commander wasn’t pleased with Hues’ methods for rising through the ranks which the commander considered political back-stabbing. Defeated by the old buzzard, Hues was sent to the place where ambitions died, or as the local’s called it: Duckett’s Landing.
It was supposedly named after the first person to land on the planet as the locals would tell it, but Hues knew the truth. In fact, the poor excuse for a pilot had made a wrong turn, got stuck in the planet’s gravity well, botched the approach, and made a good sized crater about a kilometer wide. The settlers that came a year later found the pieces of scrap left in the crater, and a small piece of panel with ‘Cmdr. Jim Duckett’ stenciled on it. They thought the name fitting. Hues thought it ironic: a landing field named for the first person to crash landing on it.
Hues sighed again. The place was supposed to be a fully functional space port as well, but they barely got any air traffic, much less space traffic. They didn’t even have a space ramp. Hues was under the suspicion that the whole ‘space port’ thing was a lie cooked up to generate funding for his superiors. He turned around to look at the inside of the tower and what he saw only seemed to confirm his notion. One bored looking flight controller sat reclined with his boots up on the console and a comic book propped on his knee. No flights today either. I hate this place.
The Major stepped down from the viewing platform and walked towards the break area nestled next to the stairwell. A lone coffeepot performed its duty next to an unused microwave. Hues began to pour a cup of the vile black substance that paraded as coffee when the console under the flight controller’s boots began to beep. The controller jumped, dropped the comic book and swung his legs off of the console. A light blinked to indicate that a blip had just been picked up on his radar. The controller moved his headphones up onto his ears from around his neck.
“Unknown Flight 01, you have just entered Duckett Airspace, please identify,” the controller said into the mouthpiece. Hues walked over to the console for merely something to do, knowing very well that the controller was perfectly capable of handling whatever situation cropped up. Something interesting for a change!
After a moment of silence, the controller tried again, “Unknown Flight 01, you have just entered Duckett Airspace, please identify.”
“Duckett Air Control, I read you. Sending identification now,” was the response after several moments of crackling static.
The console beeped, and the controller flipped a switch on his console to display the incoming information. After a moment reading, the man tensed and looked towards the Major, his face pale. “Sir, I think you should take a look at this.”
Hues bent over the man’s shoulder and read the information. His mouth fell open as he finished reading the display. Finally! This was his chance to get out of this hellhole. The identification displayed on the screen was that of a private aircraft registered to a prominent Rear Admiral of the Military. They were landing for fuel and supplies. If Hues could impress the man, he would get an opportunity to get out of there.
“Give them permission to land. Wake up the mechanic squad, tell them we have a VIP inbound, ETA ten minutes. I want this person given everything he wants, and I do mean everything.” The controller nodded and turned back to the console. Hues smiled, his luck was finally changing.
Nine minutes later, Hues put the binoculars to his eyes. He didn’t really need them, for the plane was huge and he could easily see it at this distance. Like a giant bird of prey with wings slightly forward and tilted up at the tips, the massive craft glided over the field touching down on the designated runway with a computer’s precision. Hues whistled in amazement at the skill, but then again, Rear Admirals don’t get rookies assigned to them. It taxied to the main hangar and stopped at the designated marker. Mechanics in fuel and cargo trucks drove over to the plane and began landing inspections.
Hues put the binoculars on the table and turned for the staircase. “I’ll be seeing to our guest. You have the tower,” he said as he started down the stairs. He skipped down the stairs two or three at a time, the whole time trying to quiet his growing anticipation. Hues hopped into the landing field’s jeep at the base of the tower and drove the five minutes to the hangar. As he approached, he realized that the plane was even larger than he had originally thought. He marveled at the elegance of its construction and knew instantly that it was something special. It had to be some top secret test flight. Why else would they fly such a behemoth to a quiet hole-in-the-wall airfield? Hues hoped they wouldn’t request hangar space; he didn’t have one big enough to accommodate.
As Hues approached the front of the craft, he noticed the mechanics were behaving oddly, milling about the trucks, and that no hatch had yet to be opened. Dammit, already a hitch. The Major pulled the jeep to a stop and trotted over to the chief mechanic.
“What’s the problem, Chief? Where’s the red carpet? This is a VIP guest.”
“Well, sir, we had that ready,” the mechanic said dryly, “but there’s no answer from inside. We’ve even tried knocking, but there was no response. Maybe they want to talk to someone of a higher rank than a lowly mechanic. Just putting that out there as a possibility,” the mechanic finished sarcastically.
Hues sighed and looked at the aircraft. It rose up three stories above his head. The mechanics had rolled up an adjustable boarding ramp that had just barely reached. Mumbling under his breath Hues jogged up the three flights to the hatch and knocked on the door. The skin sounded metallic, but felt odd, almost like some sort of cloth. “This is Major Hues. I am the commanding officer of Duckett Airfield. Is everything alright inside?” Hues felt stupid asking such an absurd question, but before he could dwell on the thought further, a small panel quickly hissed open startling him. Hidden behind the panel was a fish-eye camera and a small speaker.
“Ah, yes. Excellent timing, Major. This is Vice Admiral Sherbet, and I apologize for the lack of a meet-n-greet, but the Rear Admiral wants this visit to be as private as possible. Very hush-hush and all that, you understand. We need fuel and supplies to carry on our flight. We will open the ports from inside and you can have your men load the supplies in the rear loading bay, just have them place the crates in the designated areas. And Major? We really can’t have anyone know that the Rear Admiral is here, so if you could just keep that little tidbit to yourself, I know the Admiral would be very appreciative. In fact, if everything is satisfactory, the Rear Admiral has confided in me that he will extend his very generous thanks at a later date, perhaps a pay raise, perhaps a promotion. Who knows, get my drift Major?”
“Absolutely sir, I completely understand, Vice-Admiral!” the Major saluted. This was it! This was his chance, just as he had hoped! The Major went down three steps at a time, smiling the entire way. When he got back down, the Chief was looking at him quizzically.
“Hurry and get your men together Chief. They’ll open the ports for you. Only the best supplies Chief. Rods to the ports and crates to the designated pads. Quickly now!” The Chief saluted and dashed off. The trucks fired up and pulled around the back end of the craft as tiny port covers unsealed, and a loading ramp lowered from the immense hull. Hues laughed happily and got back into his jeep. As long as nothing weird happened, he would finally get away from this armpit of the universe.
The Chief watched the man drive off and shook his head.
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