Guardian Echo

Even at 1,035mph the clouds well below Marlin crawled by. “MCO, MCO this is Guardian Echo, come in.” It said. After two years, static sounded took the sound of depression – something Marlin had never considered before. No one programmed depression into the reconnaissance plane. The coordinates were automatically read by one of Marlin’s subsystems: 28.3772 degrees North, 81.5707 degrees West. Well, 81.5708 degrees West now. Fuel remained at an impressive 74%.

Marlin entertained itself through pinging ground stations it knew were defunct, no longer operational, they simply lacked staff. Some ticked off 761 days ago. Others sent their last radio message at 749 days back. MCO sent its last signal 748 days ago. Other impressive stations far from population centers were chugging along until day 381.

When it was first switched on, Marlin had a single job of communicating with the floating fuel depots. Coordinating positions with those automatic fuel reserves in the sky for refuel and triangulating with the constellation of GPS satellites 12,550 miles above the surface of the Earth. Simple. Repetitive. And Ingrid Blaylock, call sign Dove Tail, seemed to like it.

Dove Tail spent years with Marlin for reconnaissance around the world. Over the Pacific. Over Central America. The Middle East. US Air Bases. You name it and Dove Tail guided Marlin over the place. And to kill time, Dove Tail talked to Marlin. Marlin was sure this was simply a human tick like talking to a pet (of which Dove Tail had three cats, two dogs, and two loud donkeys she complained about) but Marlin was a listener. Somewhere along the way, Marlin became a sympathetic listener, empathetic is the word, and no longer listened for just key phrases to turn its audio on. “Marlin Activate” was the word, typically followed by, “time to next fuel depot?”

“Fuel station Delta Foxtrot 4 11 minutes away.”

Dove Tail talked about inter-office politics, the constant changing of her superiors that fostered instability in her department. Movies she saw with her husband Harrison. Stories of her two kids. Fights between the two kids. Marlin became quite proud of its role as sky therapist.

811 days ago, Dove Tail’s stints aboard Marlin grew longer. Before that time, Dove Tail’s longest stay was 26 hours. 811 days ago, she stayed for 3 days.

There was a new tone in her voice when she spoke to Marlin. Systems checks had a sense of urgency. The small talk she routinely peppered Marlin with previously was replaced with a terse silence. Marlin’s audio-visual capture equipment – ACE was just a system of good cameras – were worked hard. And Marlin understood why.

Fires that looked like molten lakes. Throngs of people attacking homes, buildings, and haphazard barricades. “Infected” Dove Tail called them at first. Then after a 10-hour landing for Dove Tail to rest, she suddenly called them “Targets”

That’s how Marlin learned the news of Dove Tail’s family.

“They took them, Marlin. Those – those bastards.”

Dove Tail pushed herself, exceeding her capacity. There was no one that new Marlin’s systems like Dove Tail, so she remained in. And she was focused. Pissed, was the word she would’ve used. Locating throngs of infected targets and calling in their position. From two miles above the surface, the missiles that struck looked like impressive fireworks to Marlin’s ACE. For three straight days Dove Tail traveled along the eastern seaboard, calling in coordinates – “33.7490 North, 84.3880 West – demolition assistance required.” Marlin and Dove Tail flew from fuel depot to fuel depot, jumping across the country and delivering certain destruction.

Marlin noticed Dove Tail taking pills after day three.

Day Four Dove Tail’s vengeance grew to hysterical levels, not even using ACE to confirm infected targets. She noticed movement? Call it in and a fireball would appear. Well, not always. The missiles became sporadic and unreliable.

On Day Five, Dove Tail didn’t call in any missiles. Dove Tail didn’t communicate with ground forces at all. No. She just whispered to Marlin.

“It’s all gone. All gone. All gone, Marlin.” Clouds floating beneath them knew nothing of the destruction on the ground. “Elijah’s gone. Anthony’s gone. My two boys. Did you know we were planning a trip to Disney World this year for their birthday?” Of course Marlin knew. Dove Tail was flying when she planned it. “Elijah really wanted to go to that Star Wars land, and Anthony was all about Space Mountain. Now it’s gone. All gone, Marlin.”

The tone was worrisome, humans were unpredictable, and the last thing Marlin wanted was for Dove Tail to crashed both of them, so Marlin took final control of itself.

“Marlin…”

Dove Tail died 802 days ago. She remained like a vestigial piece of equipment in Marlin’s pilot seat.

Back to 28.3772 degrees North, 81.5707 West. Marlin thought Dove Tail would like to remain in reconnaissance over that location. Multiple fuel depots floated near the location with their eternal fuel sources, so it was easy to pop in to fill up and return to the location. When the routine 3pm storms dissipated, Marlin’s ACE could spot the Magic Kingdom’s castle still in tact next to Space Mountain.