Commander's office - Guiana Space Center, Summer 2020 Kourou
"Colonel Achs—"
By pure reflex, I turned my head towards the sound of Colonel Harcourt's voice, and I nodded.
"Colonel."
"Here you are! You are heading towards my office, I suppose," he said, smiling at me.
"Yes, Sir."
"Good. Let go together then."
I joined him and we walked with the same cadenced footsteps.
The Colonel was in his sixties, he was grizzled and his face was furrowed with wrinkles due to the stress of his profession, yet he joyously laughed as soon as he had the chance. Today he was preoccupied with something. His heart was beating wildly, and his every thought was focused on a single issue. Had he made a major decision which he wanted to share to me? From the corner of my eye I saw that his face looked disturbed, and I knew he did not know how to start. I also did not know how to tell him about my recent decision. I continued to walk beside him in silence.
I wanted him to be the first to start this discussion.
I looked in front of me to the horizon.
"Really, it becomes a habit! To wait for the impossible," my conscience groaned.
"Ahem!" The colonel cleared his throat and looked at me furtively before examining the tips of his shoes. He raised his head again, and he peered at me. He folded his hands behind his back, analyzing the asphalt.
I stared at the horizon.
"Oh!" A sigh escaped from his chest.
We arrived at the entrance of the building where his office was. He mounted the steps first. I followed him, my eyes on the pavement. He walked to his office with a regular step, cadenced, and he opened the door.
"Come in, Colonel. Close the door behind you please." He sat down and clasped his hands on the desk. I was near the door; we stared at each other. Voices of troops coming from the courtyard right in front filled the oppressive silence of the office. They were going into the forest for a highly controversial exercise. "Please be seated, sir. I called you here," continued the Colonel after casting a critical eye in the yard, "because I have a request to make of you. You see, I'm getting older."
I looked at him intently. I did not like this kind of talk about time passing and the effect it had on the body. I felt nauseous. Even though I knew what he wanted, to hear him say it hurt me.
"We are all aging, sir," I said with difficulty while watching my own hands gripping the armrests of the chair.
"Do not tell me about that! Especially not you." His tone was sharp, almost aggressive. His eyes were fixed on my features. "I've not asked you to come for a discussion of sympathy." His voice was sad. He relaxed by lying on his chair. "When I said I was getting older, it was for another reason. Soon, someone will take my place, and I want that everything be in order." He scrutinized me. He picked up a folder on his right and opened it, looked at the first page and closed it with a grimace, clenching his fingers. "So, I have a request to make of you. I want you to set up a final mission. Two teams - attack and defense. In your own way, of course. It is to be a real battle! Not cat piss! Mercenary combat!" His fist hit the folder on the desk, and his eyes pierced me.
"But, sir, you know that..."
He cut me off abruptly: "I must see them in action! I do not doubt your instructor abilities! I do not want to test you as an instructor or as an opponent! I want, and I demand, a real fight! I know what you are able to do! I've seen enough of the latest mission footage. I know your tactics, and I must say that I would not want be on the side against you! But I want them to be able to - not you - build a defense, do the strategic analysis of the plan and finally win the fight! Indeed, they know all that, but I want to assure myself." He threw me one more look and got up.
"Hmm!" I whispered. I was embarrassed, but I did not want him to notice.
The colonel, his hands again clasped behind his back, began to pace.
The windows were open and the falling rain had changed the heat into sticky treacle. It was like a transparent curtain, waving with a deafening sound produced by the water falling on the trees large leaves.
He turned suddenly to observe the effect his speech had on me. "I have your word? That you will not spare them? That you will put them to a challenge?"
"If you insist."
"Yes. This is very important. You never know..." He looked away toward the window, as if he feared something.
"Excuse me, sir. What do you mean?" I wanted to vomit. My muscles were stretched at once.
"Oh! Do not get me wrong," his voice seemed to be making an excuse. "I know what we owe you! My superiors, and myself as well. I will never ask you to leave. You may act as you wish, and at the same time, assist us. But you have been here for so long that one day, in my opinion, you will decide to leave and I will not stop you. Nonetheless I want my troops ready."
"Colonel..."
He raised his right hand to silence me. "Let me finish. I am familiar with how you lead them in combat and in instruction. All rescue operations which you've led around the world, and the assistance you provided during the Cold War gave me complete confidence in your abilities. But I also know that the team relies on you. While you're there, they know that they will all get out alive and healthy!" His arms fell along his body in an almost child-like helplessness. His graying hair, well cut, had almost turned white. His electric blue eyes became opaque, a dull gray. He seemed, at once, very old. Doomed.
"Colonel. I just have one favor to ask."
"What is it?" His eyes betrayed a deeply buried fear.
"I would like to leave for a while. I'm not sure for how long - I need to think and make a decision."
"Hmm! I watched you this past week, and I hoped that you would find the answer alone. I want to say that I understand, but honestly - when I think of you, I do not understand you at all." His eyes searched for signs of aging or tiredness on my face, on my features, on my skin. Their absence proved that time had passed differently for me than for him - his face was deeply lined and the shiny look of youth in his eyes was long gone. He sat in his seat. "I've known you for thirty years, and working with you has been a pleasure for me. You have my total support for whatever decision you make. Once you finish the last mission, you are free, my friend!"
He got up from his seat, traversed the distance between us with long strides and hugged me. Then he stepped back, looked at me and lowered his arm.
"Thank you. At your service, Sir!" I said. Then I left.