Chapter 3
The Rise of Captain Canard
Andreas Canard was known as Andy by his friends. But Andreas didn’t have any friends, so everyone knew him as Andreas or Captain Canard. His deceased father was an inner circle, corporate council executive. And Andreas is also the nephew of a corporate council chairman. This made Andreas nearly as untouchable as his pride made him unreachable. Andreas was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d stolen the rest of the set. He was filled with dreams and ambitions and would do almost anything to achieve his goals, short of an honest night’s work. He’d made it this far in life without labor and saw no reason for ever breaking the precedent.
After a full eight years of private education. Andy was given an entry level position as a department head in his father’s company. His policy of coercing sales to company stores with the promise of easy returns was hugely successful. Sales were up sixteen percent and by the time the tide of returns began to swell. Well, by then, Andreas had transferred to another department. In his new position, he’d repeat the same gambit. Only this time at the wholesale level achieving equally convoluted results. Andreas was a man on the way up the corporate ladder. Promoted again, he was put in charge of the finances for a small but growing, corporate entity. But Icarus had flown too close to the sun and his fall to earth was aided by his useful disappearance.
By transferring to Corporate Security, Andreas’s past offices earned him a Captain’s rank. His crimes had earned him a one-way ticket to an outpost at end of the world. Andreas had been posted to the Southern Region as a third shift, water security officer, Sin City Southern Region. His life of partying the days away with the in crowd of Thunder Bay elite were over. Andreas, however, was capable of finding amusements in and around Sin City. Because his new job was mainly of the make-work variety, he seldom bothered to show up.
In his quarters, he hit on his pipe. When there’s a knock at his door. Holding his toke, he calls out. “Come in.”
“Captain Canard?” A young, level one asks, barely sticking his head through the three-inch opening of door the chain.
“What?” Andreas answers exhaling impatiently. The level one glances at the pipe while pretending not to. “Sir, General Alford wants to see you in his Immediately!”
Sighing, Canard takes another toke holding it in before answering. “Tell em, I’ll be down after a while.”
“Sir,” the private replies. “I was ordered to come get you.”
“Bush!” Canard grimaces asking. “What the fuck did I do now?”
“I don’t know sir. They just ordered me to bring you.”
Canard puts his pipe down and sits up on his bunk. Inventorying his room for the necessities of his uniform. As he enters the headquarters building, Andreas fans his shirt in the building’s artificial coolness. “Crazy hot out there!” The private ignores Andreas’s remark; as far too common an observation for the Southern Region. And assumes Andreas is either an idiot or a newbie and reckoning both.
Silently, the pair move through the building. Save for the sounds of their hard souled heals clicking on the linoleum. The orderly, leaves Andreas with a curt salute at the CS day desk. And Andreas entirely misses the military formality. Smarminess was a vital component of all good Corporate Security officers. You didn’t join the Corporate Security to become an asshole. You were required to be an asshole first. Smiling at Canard, nearly dripping, insincerity the CS officer Alexander offers, have a seat, Captain. I’ll let the General know that you’re finally here.”
Canard asks off the cuff. “Any idea what this is about?”
The business-like Captain Alexander gives him a pat CS answer. “What do you think it’s about?” Throwing in a sinister cynical smile, at no extra charge.”
Confident in his own abilities Canard whistles. “I don’t have a clue.”
Leaning back in his desk chair the CS officer smiles. “Then, it can’t be too serious then, can it?”
“I’m not worried,” Canard replies confidently.
“But you’re curious?” the Alexander counters.
“So?”
The CS man then unfurls his standard. With a feel free to incriminate yourself in a non-interrogation, interrogation. “You’re curious but not happy. So, if you were happy, you wouldn’t be so curious. So, if you’re curious and unhappy. Then that means you must be in the Bush about something.”
Canard only smirks answering, “Fuck you!”
“Just doing my job Captain Canard.”
Andreas barks. “Well, do it on someone else!”
After several uncomfortable moments. General Alford enters the room as both men stand snapping to attention. The General, utters Canard’s name grimly. Andreas grimaces as the security officer smiles enjoying the dark tone of the General’s voice.
Andreas follows General Alford down the hallway obediently silent. Just as Andreas had followed on the many previous occasions. Andreas fully expects to lose this early round of discipline. Bur anticipates his safe outcome will prevail on appeal to the court of higher connections. As General Alford enters the room, he growls with hangover toughness. “Shut the door and sit the fuck down Canard.” The General stares into his desktop pausing for a second. He collects his thoughts before heaving a sigh. “Captain Canard, you’ve been with us here, what… six months? And I’ve yet to ever hear your name mentioned in any good connotations. It’s always some sort of Bush shit and basically Canard… I’m getting, pretty fucking tired of it!”
“General Sir…” Canard says, attempting to squeak out a defense.
“Shut it, Captain! Yeah, everybody knows you’ve got Corporate pull. But I’ve got a job to do here. And it is a good job and you’re not going to fuck it up! I’ve got two more years Canard. And then, I can get out of here and retire to someplace nice and cool! But I won’t make those two years Canard. Hell, I might not make one with you around! I’ll be lucky to make one! So, I’ve thought long and hard about it what to do about you. And there are only two ways I can get rid of you. I can help you to get your ticket punched and get you promoted the fuck out here. Or I can get you killed. So, you see Captain Canard. There’s this little mission leaving tonight for the Tuck, and I’ve selected you to lead it.” Alford then produces a hip flask from his jacket pocket and takes a celebratory snort.
Smug, Canard answers taking a philosophical approach. “Well General, as I’m sure you’re probably already, well aware. Under the terms of my employment contract. I can’t be ordered to go outside of the boundaries of the Southern Region.”
“Absolutely correct Canard!” The general answers excited with anticipation and toasting Canard’s point by taking another snort. “You’re so right! You can’t be ordered out of the Southern Region. Why, a man has to volunteer for that sort of dangerous duty!”
Confidently, Andreas smirks. “And why would I do a crazy thing like that General?”
“Well Captain,” The General says as he smiles. “It’s really a very simple mission and I’m sure it would make mommy and Uncle Bill real proud of their little boy for being so brave and all. Plus, the ambition shown might go a long way towards getting you another stripe. Helping you to get you the fuck out of my reports and out of my asshole!” Alford returns the flask to his pocket. Then he reaches into his desk drawer dropping a thick folder in front of him. “Do you see this, Canard? It’s your personnel folder and if I could prove even half of it. Uncle or no Uncle, you’re done here buddy!”
“That’s a big if General.” Canard observes confidently. “Would you like to bet a career on it?”
“You’re not paying attention Canard! If I don’t get rid of you, I don’t have a career! You see just like you, I don’t have much of a choice here.”
Canard begins to whine defensively. “But you can’t make me volunteer!”
“You already have Canard. You leave tonight at the gloaming from dock three.”
Defeat is a new experience for Andreas. And it leaves him incredulous. He keeps on repeating, “you can’t make me!” But quickly realizes with the General’s collection of forged travel vouchers and unauthorized cash expenditures, indeed he could.
“Look Canard,” Alford chirps. “This isn’t a death sentence. You’re simply taking two squads into the Tuck to hunt down some outlanders. Think about it… Canard! Your name in the corporate news letter…for something good! That’s all, you’re dismissed, Captain.”
Andreas leaves the building a bit shaken, angry and sorely dejected. He makes his first stop at the PX to purchase his first official pair of combat boots replacing his expensive soft leather zipper boots he’d purchased in Thunder Bay. Andreas nurses his outrage, while wracking his brain. But Andreas struggles to find a way out of his predicament. So, there it was, and he was stuck. Lacing his new boots Andreas tries his best to make his appearance match the picture from the back page of his CS employment manual. Nearing the quarter hour Andreas leaves his quarters, headed grimly for pier three.
A gaggle of black uniformed CS men congregate near the dock. As Captain Canard asks curtly. “Who’s the in charge here?” The CS men answer by pointing in unison to Sargent Peterson, with a miss-timed repeating of his name.
Canard struts down the dock filled with corporate pomp. He is trying to impress and not let on his total inexperience. Inquiring confidently, “are we ready to go Sergeant?”
Peterson answers, “just waiting on the Captain sir.” Still holding his salute and waiting patiently for Canard’s before finally abandoning the formality.
“I’m the Captain!” Andreas explains. Pointing to his chest with his thumb, “I’m Captain Canard!”
“The boat Captain, Captain Canard sir.” Peterson replies, we’re waiting on the tug boat Captain sir.” Peterson explains gently. Peterson lives by the motto: “There’s no such thing as a stupid officer only stupid officers’ plural.”
“Oh, right, the boat Captain.” Canard shrugs, “what’s the hold up?”
“I don’t know Captain. You’d have to ask him yourself, sir.”
“Is that him?” Canard asks innocuously. Pointing up to the bridge of a rusting geriatric tugboat. Without any thought or hesitation Andreas stumbles on board the tug. Climbing innocently up the ladder to the bridge and greeting the ship’s master at shoe to face level. “Are you the ship’s Captain?” Canard looks up asking, like a rube from out of town. He peers up at the master a burly, white-haired man with a strong build and weather lined face.”
“Why yes!” the master answers with an animated, sarcastic sprightliness. “I sure am! I’m Captain Anderson and I’m the Captain of this whole big boat, all by myself!” The ships master taking his pipe from his leathery lips asks kindly. “And what might your name be friend?”
“I’m Captain Canard; I’ll be leading this mission into the Tuck tonight.”
“Well, Captain Canard.” The master explains pointing his pipe in Canard’s direction with a casual emphasis. “Now that we’re buddies and so well acquainted and all. Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” Canard answers.
The ship’s master thunders. “Who the fuck told you that you could climb on board my vessel? You stupid son of a Bush!” Captain Anderson shrieks at Canard his bulging eyes alone chasing Canard from the bridge and back down the ladder. “You’ve got to the count of ten, to get off en my boat!”
“But you don’t understand, I’m Corporate Security!” Canard, answers defiantly, while still backing up.
“No! You ain’t shit!” The master shouts. “On that dock you’re Corporate Security! But when you climb on my boat … you’re freight! And when you climb on my boat without asking for permission to come aboard boy, you’re Bush! Now you get the fuck off en my boat, before I brain you!”
Canard’s beats his hasty retreat in full view of the men. Who are struggling mightily to withhold their obvious pleasure. Canard’s been stripped bare of his authority standing sheepishly naked on the dock. Canard looks back up at the bridge plaintively. Then he waits, and then he waits a little longer. As his amateur status has now been exposed for all to see. Then Canard waits some more before calling out plaintively. “Captain Anderson! I’d like to speak to you!” Andreas’s request was answered with machinery noises. Now simmering, Andreas’s calls out angrily. “Captain Anderson, as a Captain of Corporate Security. Might I remind you; I am the officer in command here! Might I also remind you; I could have you brought up on charges?”
The squad’s conversation grows quiet. Watching this spectacle escalate. Anderson emerges from the bridge wiping his hands on a greasy rag before blowing his nose into it. He asks Canard, slowly, “So you’re the superior officer, are you?”
His bluff called, Andreas answers nervously, “Yes… yes I am!” Moving the theatrics from street to legitimate theater before adding. “And I don’t like your attitude!”
Anderson smiles back nodding his head with a quirky, little smile. Almost a knowing shadow smile. “But you like my boat alright. Don’t you Captain Canard?” Anderson shaking his head affirmatively. “But you don’t like my attitude?” Anderson shaking his head negatively. “Is that correct Captain Canard? But you like my boat is that about, right?”
Nervously, Canard answers not really knowing what else to say shouts . “Yeah!”
Prompting the old man to laugh with a rolling bellicosity. “Do you know what this corporation of yourn, don’t own? In the whole of the Southern Region, they ain’t even got one!” Without waiting, Anderson answers himself, “Tug boats!” He returns to his laughter chuckling to himself. “Not one! So, Captain Canard, I don’t give a fuck who you think you are or what you think you’re doing. But on my boat, I’m the superior officer and you’re nothing but freight…you got that?”
“Let me tell you something you son of a Bush!” Canard shouts angrily. “I’ve got connections in Thunder Bay! I got friends on the corporate council and by the time I’m through with you! You won’t even be allowed to drink water, let alone sail on it!”
“Good luck with that!” Anderson spits back. “I’m a sub-contractor, in fact, I’m a sub contractor’s sub-contractor. And what’s even better. I’m a sub contractor’s contractor what owns the only tug boat in the whole of the Southern region. Would you like to go for a ride on my boat tonight Captain Canard? Everyone’s been lookin forward to it. And we’ve all just been waiting on you!”
Canard simmers with rage and comeuppance asking. “What next then!”
Anderson smiles, “you ask for permission to come aboard my boat.”
Instantly, Andreas answers asks.” Permission to come aboard?”
Anderson leads Andreas. “Permission to come aboard… what?”
“Permission to board your boat.” Canard replies arrogantly disdainful.
“Nope, that’s not it!” Anderson answers sharp while tapping his pipe on the handrail and solemnly shaking his head.
“Permission to come aboard your ship. Your boat, your vessel… what?”
“Permission to board – sir!” Anderson coos in Canard’s direction, “I’m an officer too, you Bush wipe!”
Canard wearily repeats, “Permission to come aboard, sir!”
“Why certainly,” Anderson replies cocking his head with animated smile. “Welcome aboard Captain Canard!”
Once on deck, Canard motions to Sargent Peterson and his men to board the supply barge tied off to the stern. Canard asking, “Do I sit up on the bridge with you, Captain Anderson?”
Sarcastically Anderson replies, “I think not!” Anderson eying Canard, mutters caustically, “You’d better wait in the ward room.” As he directs Canard pointing fraudulently casual. “Help yourself to some coffee.”
“Coffee?” Canard repeats.
“We’re not uncivilized here you know,” Anderson grouses. “I’ll call you on the phone Canard, when we’re getting close.”
“The phone?” Canard parrots.
“Yes, the phone,” Anderson chirps. Climbing back up the ladder as Canard stumbles through the door tumbling into the ward room. The tugs engines begin to bellow. As the craft’s motions begins to make Andreas feel queasy. He tries sitting and then begins pacing the floor. Learning quickly from the saliva burst in his mouth. That looking out the window is a very definitely a bad idea.
Water travel wasn’t Andreas long suite. It wasn’t unique only un-common even among the higher corporate classes. Soon, long dark shadows overtake the daylight’s colors on the river. Capturing them and locking them away. Surrendering them only to the lights of man. Captain Canard believes he’s becoming acclimated to water travel. Andreas patting himself on the back taking credit for the darkness. The ringing telephone startles him and jolts Andreas from his mental awards ceremony. Since leaving Thunder Bay, the telephone had become a rarity for Andreas with few to call and even fewer calling.
Picking up the receiver he hears Anderson’s gruff voice. Shouting over the machinery noise. “About, ten minutes Captain,” then abruptly hanging up in his face. Andreas is unsure of what to do next. So, he exits the ward room adjusting his eyes to the night. Before blindly moving towards the barge. Anderson turns on the spotlight searching the river bank for a suitable landing site. A place wide enough to turn the boat around without grounding her. Anderson begins his three-point turn. Backing the barge up to shore as the men disembark. Under a spot light trained with tactical precision. Canard struggles, with an unbalanced crossing of the walk-board from boat to the barge. Bounding off the barge with uncontrolled momentum. Andreas lands on all four with his hands and feet stuck in the mud.
With a perimeter established; Peterson seeks Canard’s orders asking, “Permission to go inland Captain?” Andreas, more concerned with wiping the mud from his hands looks up unconcerned. Answering with a detached, “Yeah, sure whatever.” Immediately, the squad sweeps into the dark forest as gunfire erupts about a mile off in the distance. After only a few minutes, Peterson sends a runner back with a status report. While Canard paces along the river bank nervously. Andreas never ventures very far from the barge. When Captain Anderson throttles up the engines backing up grounding the barge. The noise frightens Andreas and makes him jump temporarily blocking his escape. Andreas had been ready to leave even before they ever got there and now. Losing contact with home even momentarily, was unsettling.
But it was only rookie jitters as the runner returns with good news. Seventy-two Outlanders killed. The squad returns jubilant boasting of their exploits. Bragging loudly of their large, month end kill bonuses. All the while, Andreas wastes no time in reboarding the boat for home. Returning to the sanctuary of the ward room, Andreas dwells with bitterness upon his success. He’s escaped without incident just as Alford had predicted, but he could have been killed. Once outside of corporate property of the Southern Region. His job benefits wouldn’t apply. Andreas hadn’t come here for this. Andreas had come here to escape. But instead found that he’d been captured. And now, it was he who was being exploited by others. Leaving a very bad taste in his mouth.
Canard, disembarked in Sin City without a word of appreciation or gratitude for his men. He acknowledges Peterson with “I’ll need your written report ASAP.”
When next darkness reigns. Canard marches into the headquarters building fanning his shirt again. And again complaining about the heat and was ignored again. Going directly to Alford’s office. Canard reports to the CS desk officer. Who making eye contact pushes the intercom button. “Captain Canard’s here to see you General Alford.” Still silently staring. The C.S.O. gives Andreas the once over commenting. “No worse for wear, I see.” Canard is in no mood for it and looks away ignoring him. Alford’s voice from the intercom calls Andreas back to his office. Canard is kept standing before the General’s desk. like a CS recruit in trouble. The General takes Canard’s report before sitting himself behind his desk asking. “Now, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?”
Canard fumes! “Yes! It was! You blackmailed me into leaving Corporate property!”
“Oh now!” Alford explains calmly. “You’re wrong Canard here are your signatures. I know that they’re genuine, I forged them myself! I’ve learned your crooked little scrawl from the phony travel vouchers and cash reimbursements you’ve submitted. So, let’s not go through this again Captain. You can either do your job here or you can push a turbine in a corporate prison for a megawatt or two. Think of this as a … Resume’ builder!”
Andreas hisses simmering, “Is that all sir?”
The General’s enjoying Canard’s predicament thinks about it for a moment before answering, “For now Canard, for now… you may go.”
This Carbon Based Life 
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