The Lotus Eaters

Federated States Airborne Command and Control Ship (ACCS), 257 miles east of Santander, Terra Nova

For many purposes, and especially in a highly permissive environment, an airship was superior for command and control and as a radar platform to a heavier than air aircraft. It could linger, or loiter, could carry a much larger and heavier suite of sensors and defensive armaments, and was much, much cheaper to operate. Thus, it was an airship, operating far at sea where there was no possibility of an enemy fighter, which kept track of possible drug smuggling operations by air and sea.

The command and control module for the ship, as opposed to the pilots' station, was more or less centrally located. Being well inside, the module was lit. Within, seated in front of banks of computer terminals, more than two dozen members of the Federated States Air Force tracked everything inside of five hundred miles, air, surface, or in space. While the ACCS couldn't track a submarine at depth, it was perfectly capable of picking up the just-under-the-water submersibles occasionally used by the narco-traffickers.

A lieutenant at one of the radar terminals announced, "Sir, those radar sightings are still increasing."

The chief of the C and C module, a colonel of the Federated States Air Force, stepped over to where he could see the radar screen. "Show me what you've got," he said.

The lieutenant on duty used a plastic pointer to illustrate, tapping one icon on his screen after another. "Here, sir, we've got two groups heading west from this island north of Balboa City. It looks like there are eight or nine in the first group, maybe just one in the second. Speed says helicopters; they're flying low, almost skimming the waves. Then there's a string of nine flying generally north. They started off from the same place as the first group. Speed is one hundred eighty-five knots. Transports of some kind. Here, too" the lieutenant pointed to another group of glowing green fuzzballs on his screen, "we've got eight or nine, also flying low and slow. Helicopters heading north."

"Any ID?"

"No, sir. We queried. If those birds are carrying transponders they've got them turned off." A new dot appeared on screen over the Isla Real. It was quickly joined by another, and then two more. The lieutenant said "Those are faster. Maybe C-31s"

The colonel pondered. He was a man who read the newspapers almost religiously, so he was aware that F.S. citizens had been killed in Balboa within the last few months. No ID, he thought. Good formations. One bird separated from the rest—that's a command and control bird. I think I'm seeing Schumann hitting back. But why weren't we notified, at least? Hmm. Fucking Drug Interdiction pukes. Fucking Spec Ops bastards.

The senior put a hand on the junior's shoulder. "Son, you don't see anything. Understand?"

The radar officer did not understand at first. His eyes looked for some kind of explanation in his colonel's face. All they found was a knowing smile. Gradually, a glow of comprehension spread across the lieutenant's face.

The senior inclined his head, made an off-center nod, and grinned broadly. Who says lieutenants are stupid? He then winked and continued "You didn't see anything, but let's keep on watching whatever it is you don't see, shall we?"