The Void

CHAPTER 50

Colonel Jack Hammerson closed the file then poured himself a double Jack Daniels, neat. He then opened his drawer to take out a box of long, dark cigars, and hummed as he clipped the end from one, stuck it into the center of his mouth, and lit it.

He blew a long plume of blue smoke into the air, and then rolled the cigar to the corner of his mouth as he got to his feet. He grabbed his glass and walked toward the large armor-plated window that looked out over the USSTRATCOM base parade grounds.

The sky was darkening now, showing the pinpricks of stars in among the countless trillions of miles of black nothingness. In that vastness of space, he knew there were probably things that would take advantage of their benign little blue world if given the chance. This horror had come out of the void and taken them by surprise. This time they got lucky.

He removed his cigar and sipped his whisky, letting it roll around his mouth for a second or two before swallowing the golden liquid down to scald his belly.

He raised the glass. “To all the good men and women lost, who fight to the death for us, and whose names will never be known.” He went to lower the glass but paused. “And to all the luck we can damn well get.”

He sipped again. Jack Hammerson continued to stare up at the night sky. The last of the dark blue velvet had already turned black.

He sighed. We don’t know what’s really out there. And maybe it’s better it stays that way.