Solfleet: The Call of Duty (106 page)

“Me, too!”
Heather added enthusiastically. “I’m starving!”

“Sounds
good to me,” Jason’s wife agreed.

“Then I
guess it’s lunchtime,” Jason concluded.

“Yes it
is,” Hansen confirmed.

The Earth
wasn’t safe. The war between the Coalition and the Veshtonn Empire wasn’t over.
It would continue to rage on and on until one side or the other finally emerged
victorious. But for this one very small moment in time, everything seemed right
with the world.

“Admiral
Hansen,” someone called out from behind them as they crossed the street.

All four
turned to find a well dressed young man hurrying toward them, though he wasn’t
actually running, carrying something flat and square in his hand.

A picture
frame? “Do I know you?” Hansen asked him when he reached them.

“I doubt
it, sir,” the man answered. “I’m new to the, uh...to the...to the department
you used to work in, sir.”

“What can I
do for you?”

“My
supervisor asked me to give you this,” he answered, holding the picture frame
out to him. “Said to tell you it was taken a few days ago near Drexel University in Philadelphia.”

Hansen
accepted the frame and gazed down at the holophoto, and an icy chill suddenly 
climbed the length of his spine. “Oh my God,” he uttered neutrally, being
careful not to display the utter shock he was feeling at that moment.

“What is
it, Dad?” Heather asked, looking up at him with concern. “What’s wrong?”

A wide
city sidewalk, much like any other, except for the brief message that appeared
to have been scratched into the plasticrete when it was still wet.

‘Lt D-G,
21 Mar 2168.’

Hansen
drew a deep breath and exhaled very slowly.

He’d made it.

THE END