Lash-Up

Epilogue

Ray was organizing electrical cords in the second bedroom when Jim Naguchi called out from the living room, “It’s all connected.” Ray arrived in time to see his giant flat-screen display, eight by sixteen feet and covering one whole wall, come to life. The new “McConnell Digital Wall” was up and running.

At first, it showed a desert scene, magnified fourfold and almost dizzyingly large, then four identical scenes, then a nighttime star field so vivid and crisp Ray had to look outside to remind himself that it was still morning. “Nicely done, Jim!”

“I just followed your directions, Ray.” Naguchi waved a sheet of paper over his head. Jim had been in charge of transporting Ray’s extensive electronics from San Diego to Lancaster and had then managed the setup.

Jenny came down the hall. “Everything is up in the master bedroom,” she announced triumphantly. “And guess what they’re showing on channel ninety-three?”

“Ooh, wait! Wait!” Naguchi said as he typed quickly on a tablet PC. A window appeared on the video wall, as large as a conventional flat-screen television, with an image of officials gathered around a podium.

The banner scrolling across the bottom read, “U.S. Space Force Base Dedication — Edwards Home to Newest Armed Service.”

“Gah! Not again!” Ray moaned. Still, he didn’t ask Jim to turn it off. The news cameras had a much better view of it than he’d had as a participant.

Admiral Schultz was at the microphone, and as Naguchi increased the volume, they heard the admiral say, “… best to add to the illustrious history of what is now Edwards Space Force Base. Glen Edwards, combat and test pilot, represents exactly the type of individual we will need to face the dual challenges of technology and human conflict…”

Others heard the sound and came into the living room, standing where they could in the clutter of boxes and packing material. Ray negotiated his way to where Jenny was standing and slipped an arm around her waist. She leaned against him, just a little, as they watched the ceremony.

Secretary Peck and Hugh Dawson from Lockheed Martin stood next to Admiral Schultz on either side of the podium. Ray and Biff were both visible in the second row, if you knew where to look.

Jack Garber, from the San Diego contingent, asked, “They’re still running that? That was two days ago!” Sue Tillman argued, “You should have been in front, Ray!”

“I thought it was nice of General Warner to come out for the dedication,” Jenny remarked.

“Yeah,” Ray answered, laughing. “He had the same smile on his face all morning. Maybe it was glued on.”

“He was trying to be civilized about it,” she insisted. “He didn’t have to be there. He could have left the transfer to the base commander.”

“You’re right, of course,” Ray conceded.

Biff Barnes said brightly, “Look, it’s almost time for Rutledge’s speech.”

“Mute it! Quick!” Shouts from across the room were accompanied by pieces of cardboard thrown in Naguchi’s direction. Luckily, cardboard exhibits poor aerodynamic properties. The impromptu assembly broke up and resumed their earlier tasks.

“I liked it better when he was trying to shut us down,” Barnes said. “We didn’t have to listen to him as much.”

Jenny answered, “We would have had a lot harder time in the hearings without his support. Before we launched, he was leading the opposition, and when he suddenly reversed course, they didn’t know what to do and just imploded.”

Biff nodded. “You’re right, but having to listen to him again may be too high a price…”

Ray cut in. “As far as I know, the last of the electronics is hooked up. With the important stuff out of the way, now we can bring in the rest of the boxes and the furniture.”

“Don’t worry,” Jenny said, squeezing his arm. “With so many helpers, it will all be in by lunchtime.”

“And I’d better get going. I have to organize a meal…”

Jenny held up a hand to stop him. “Geoff Lewes already offered to set up a buffet in the front yard. He left with a few others an hour ago to prepare.”

“And how much will that cost?” Ray asked, but she waved the question away.

“With luck, maybe we’ll get to meet some of the neighbors,” she answered.

Brad Tillman came in the front door with a large box. “This one’s just labeled WEDDING GIFTS. Where should I put it?”

Ray tried to remember the box’s contents but drew a blank and just stared at it; Jenny looked over and spoke up. “I packed that one. It has the kitchen gifts we got.” She pointed toward the appropriate door, then smiled. “We’re lucky we got that stuff,” she told Ray. “How could you not have a toaster?”

He shrugged. “I never needed one.”

Shaking her head, she followed Brad Tillman into the kitchen to begin unpacking. Helen Baker said, “Let me help,” and joined her.

Jim Naguchi was still fiddling with the display. There were almost a dozen subwindows covering the wall now, including three or four news channels, the basketball-tournament rankings, and a local map centered on their new house.

Two of the news channels were showing pictures of Defender and the dedication ceremony. The other two were covering the ongoing Chinese withdrawal from Vietnam. With the Dragon Gun destroyed, and the U.S. blockade cutting off virtually all sea trade, Beijing had seen no profit and great loss from her military campaign.

Pundits were coining terms like “the GPS gambit” for China’s failed strategy. On one cable show, two experts were trying to guess how badly the Chinese economy would suffer in the next year. Their only disagreement was what percentage reduction best described “really bad.”

And the media had been covering a lot of changes in the Chinese leadership, with many senior officials suddenly leaving, all at the same time, “for health reasons.”

“Ray, don’t get sucked in!” Jenny called from the kitchen.

“Right,” he answered, tearing himself from the screen. He had to move, anyway. They were bringing in the couch.

In the end, they finished bringing everything in by lunchtime. Aside from the electronics, Ray’s possessions had fit in a medium-sized trailer. Jenny didn’t have much more, and with friends from both San Diego and Edwards helping out, it only took a few hours after lunch to put most of it away and clear out the trash.

Finally, the San Diego SPAWAR contingent had to leave for the long drive back, and the move party began to break up. Jim Naguchi and the others from SPAWAR were careful to get photos with Ray, Biff, and the other Defender crew members before they left, and most asked for autographs. Ray laughed inside at his new celebrity. If that was the price for so many helpers on moving day, he was more than happy to pay it.

The people from Edwards didn’t have far to go at all, but they left, too, with calls of, “See you at our base tomorrow!”

Ray and Jenny strolled through their new home, suddenly empty of all the bustle and laughter. It was just a ranch house, with the obligatory red tile roof. One wall of the living room was glass, and sliding doors led out to the patio and the also-obligatory pool. Jenny had insisted on the pool. “It’s good exercise, and now that you’re in shape, I want you to stay that way,” she said, poking him in the side.

“I’m sorry it was such a short honeymoon,” Ray said, a note of disappointment in his voice. “A weekend in Sequoia National Park wasn’t remotely long enough.”

“Don’t think that!” she argued. “The timing on the house was too good to ignore, and you’ve got that meeting with Hugh on the new Defender follow-on in two days…”

“But it’s our honeymoon, Jenny!”

She smiled. “Who said the honeymoon’s ended?”