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CHAPTER 46:
The Beach and the Stars

Beth L @SpaceNewsNetwork
Astronaut, doctor, hero. Colonel Glenn Shepard was rushed to the hospital today after he collapsed while exiting the courtroom complex at Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling. Shepard had been attending the court martial of Yvette Barbier, chief medical officer of Mars Three / Marsbase One.
Shepard’s testimony was essential to acquitting Barbier of malfeasance charges stemming from her actions during the Percheron Incident.
Our hearts and prayers are with Colonel Shepard and his loved ones tonight.

ChirpChat, July 2044



They’d rushed Glenn to Walter Reed National Military Medical Center to determine why he’d collapsed outside the courtroom at JBAB. His internal temperature had been elevated, and he was found to be slightly dehydrated, so the docs gave him intravenous fluids, ice packs, and made him stay in the hospital overnight. They ruled it heat exhaustion, even though he’d been in an air-conditioned building when it happened. He was eventually released with orders to see his doctors at SAMMC for further testing.

Glenn couldn’t help but feel that this was a terrible setback—he’d be back in rehab in San Antonio, and Jen was in D.C.

Fortunately, Marty and his team found the problem less than a day after Glenn entered the facility. His bionic limbs were mostly powered locally, using a combination of internal—battery—and external—beamed-power—sources. They were also basically wireless, at least they had no wires connecting inside the body. That was not the case for his bionic eye and ear, they had to be wired into the comm system built into the fleshy part of his left ear, and to the quantum processor of the bionic integration controller implanted in his left hip. Once again, the wiring was kept to a minimum, and well-shielded to prevent short-circuits and other hazards.

The same could not be said for his LVAD. While its usage was non-standard—boosting lymph circulation to prevent heat buildup—it was a commercially available medical device, and one of the power leads had been crimped and lost some of its insulation.

As a result, Glenn had experienced occasional jolts of electricity where the wires passed right under the intercostal muscles of his chest. Marty thought that the short-circuits probably dated back to the year after implant, when he’d been in Hawaii. It explained the occasional twinges on the Moon, and on Percheron.

Sometime before or during Yvette’s court martial, the wire had broken, and the LVAD stopped functioning. His collapse had been from overheating, not heat exhaustion or a heart attack.

Glenn was able to return to D.C. the next week, but that was short-lived. There was talk of new assignments on Earth, Moon, Heinlein, or even the upcoming asteroid missions, but he secretly hoped for Mars.

For now, though, he was back in San Antonio, this time working on protocols for service member rehabilitation with bionics. He was writing the book on how augmented humans would serve in the Space Force to do jobs that a normal human could not. The general had also declared that he needed a PAO assistant, so Jen was there too.

They’d rented a small house in the northeast corner of San Antonio. It was an old neighborhood, with lots of retirees—mostly from the Army and Air Force, but it had its share of Navy, Marines, and Coasties. They turned out to be a great resource, too, Glenn was a regular at meetings in the old golf club and recreation center where the retirees talked about their days in service. Glenn’s office was at Fort Sam Houston, adjacent to SAMMC. He had ready access to the on-base rehab unit, and Nik and Marty’s specialty clinic was just across town.

Jen’s office was out at the old Randolph AFB, about the same distance north, that Glenn commuted south. It was an ideal arrangement. The general had made it clear that it wasn’t fraternization when the commanding officers gave permission. Since that was Boatright for both of them, they had no worries about settling into a domestic arrangement.


Jen came home early. It had been a short day, coming off a week of sixteen-to-twenty-hour days where she’d had to spend half of the time at Randolph, and the other half in Shep’s office at Fort Sam. She’d been grocery shopping for a special occasion. She wasn’t sure he would want to celebrate, but she wanted to be prepared. It had been two years since the launch of the Bat. Writing his biography meant that Jen was intimately familiar with what constituted important dates in his life. It might be a strange event to commemorate it, but she wanted to remember it.

On this day, two years ago, Shep had admitted that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

Nik and Sheila would be coming to dinner. They’d invited Marty and his wife, but the surgeon had to go to Los Angeles to prep a patient for transfer to SAMMC. This one would receive some of the same advanced bionics as Shep.

She looked around at her surroundings. The owner said the house had been in the family for eighty years, but updated several times. There were a few outdated pieces of furniture—and even more in a detached garage out back—supplemented with her own things. Glenn simply didn’t have much except for his room at Aunt Sally’s apartment. She’d finally exited the lease on her Richmond apartment. It was no longer her home, and she knew that her future held a lot of moving, temporary lodging, and likely prolonged separation.

Let’s see—we’ll hide Nik and Sheila over there, and they’ll jump out . . . No, too risky. We’ll wait out front . . . No. Nik and Sheila should be sitting on the couch when I open the door. She was in the kitchen when she heard the front door to the apartment. Oh no, he’s early. Nik isn’t here yet!

Shep was in the entrance with a big grin on his face. This was more than just the date on the calendar. He had big news and couldn’t wait to share it.

“Hey, love, I’ve got something to tell you!” He reached out and grabbed her around the waist with his right arm.

“Cool your jets, flyboy. I’ve got to get dinner out and company’s coming.”

“Wait, what? Company? What are we having?”

“Well, I was thinking of something Hawaiian, kalbi ribs, some kalua pork, maybe some poké—but I couldn’t get the poké. I did manage to find a Golden Wave ale for you, though.”

Shep looked dumbstruck. “Really?”

“No, not really. But I have mahi-mahi for the grill, and I wasn’t kidding about the beer.”

As the implications sunk in, his grin became bigger. “Ah! So that must mean the company is Nik and Sheila! In that case, the news can wait until dinner. Need some help in there?”

“Nope, the mahi is fresh, but the rest is pre-pack. Nik and Sheila will be here any minute. Go see to our guests.”

The small dinner party was a success. Shep did indeed appreciate her timing for the celebration. The fact that Nik was there as well, reinforced the positive nature of the experience. Sheila was intelligent and witty, although quite shy. She sat very close to Nik, holding his arm as if having finally caught him, she had no intention of letting him go.

It was time for Shep’s big news.

Nik and Sheila brought a bottle of sparkling white wine, and Shep raised his glass in toast. “To the ladies who make our lives worth living!”

“Hear, hear,” Nik said. Sheila blushed, and Jen said nothing.

“Okay, so here it is. Marsbase is expanding. Starting with Marsbase Four, they’ll rotate crews more often, but only part of the crew at a time. They’ll send out twenty, bring back ten. Next, they’ll send thirty and bring back fifteen. Over a five-year period, they want to grow Marsbase into one hundred people—real colonists—and put in an orbital habitat. This one will be called Burroughs Station.”

“Sounds good, so what’s got you so excited?”

“They want me for Mission Lead—not CMO—but Director of Marsbase. I’ll also temporarily command the contingent that will be constructing the Space Force orbital facility—Burroughs Station!”

“Whoa, command! Who let you out of the cage, flyboy?” Nik held out his hand to shake Shep’s. “Congratulations, buddy.”

Shep and Nik were all grins. Sheila was smiling, and Jen forced a pleased expression, too, but inside, she her heart sank.

He’s going away again.

Shep was still speaking. “It’s going to be hard, though. After the mistakes made with Marsbase One, we’ve got to handle information flow a lot better than has been done in the past. With a larger civilian population, we also need to manage internal information delivery. That’s why I’m getting a dedicated communications and media section.” He paused, and cocked an eyebrow at her.

Her wristcomm pinged, despite the fact she’d set it to Do Not Disturb for the evening. She checked the screen and her eyes widened.

“That’s why Major Butler has been assigned to assist me. Honey, we’re going to Mars.”

“Hold on, Shep, aren’t you forgetting something?” Nik looked at Glenn and waggled his eyebrows.

“Oh, yeah, thanks, buddy.” Shep got up from his chair, set it aside, and got down on one knee. He pulled a small black box out of his pocket, opened it, and held it out to Jen.

Her heart melted. Before he could even say a word, she gave him her answer.

“Yes.”


It was a small affair held near the town of Lahaina on Maui. Glenn had argued for Kailua-Kona, on the Big Island where they’d first met, but Jen successfully argued that their best memories were from Maui. There were a few guests, Marty and Aaliyah Spruce, Jen’s publisher Leo and Dana, Mila Katou, Gavin Taketani, and Jeff Ling, newly returned from the Moon. Several of the regular HI-SLOPE and Pohakuloa staff from the high elevations of the island who’d worked closely with Glenn or Jen during training had come over on an interisland flyer. Colonel Richardson was there, directing an honor guard of Space Force officers waiting to form the ceremonial arch.

Nik was the best man, and Sheila was maid of honor. Aunt Sally was present as mother-of-the-groom, but Jen had no family to attend. She’d considered asking Leo, but then she received an offer from an unexpected source.

Glenn looked nervous, and yet utterly fierce in his midnight-blue dress uniform with all of his medals. He was outdone only by the two figures coming down the aisle. Jen was simply stunning in a cream-colored dress that perfectly accented her dark skin. She gave General Boatright a quick peck on the cheek, and then a big hug, as he handed her off at the front of the chapel. Boatright smiled broadly at Glenn and then winked. Everything was obviously proceeding exactly as the general had planned.


The chapel faced the ocean, and the ceremony had been timed to end at sunset. So much of it was a blur—Glenn knew he’d recited vows, said “I do,” and kissed the bride. That was about all he could remember—that and the fact that his breath caught every time he looked at Jen.

He’d turned off the heads’ up display in his left eye for the duration of the ceremony. Jen had teased him that he was not allowed to read his vows off a teleprompter. He could memorize them—or not—like anyone else. The display activated though, with an alert just at the end of the ceremony.

Glenn squeezed Jen’s hand and cocked his head to call her attention to the sun just disappearing from view. For just a second, the western horizon flashed brilliant green.


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