19 July 3029
Riva Allard ran fingers back through her short black hair, then stretched. Something is definitely odd about this exam. She narrowed her blue eyes and read aloud the answer to a question about artificial stimulation of involuntary muscles from the viewer screen. "Though the technology of using electrical impulses to stimulate voluntary muscles and transform their tissue to resemble that of involuntary muscles has been available since the late twentieth century, the biomechanics of the change was not fully understood until 2947. Use of the transformation process information has made the manufacture of myomer muscles for internal organ transplant far more feasible." Nope, that answer was not like Bob Clark at all.
She looked over at her teaching assistant. "Julie, when we gave this exam in Biomech 104, the Thursday section, who was Clark sitting beside?"
Julie's brown eyes looked upward as she concentrated. "Linda Hoffmann, the transfer from the Lyran Commonwealth." She dug through a small pile of disks, plucking one from near the bottom of the stack. She tossed it across the narrow alley between their desks. "Here you go. She knows her stuff. I think I had her down for a 121 out of 128."
Riva deftly caught the disk and inserted it into the auxiliary disk drive. With a few quick keystrokes, she placed Hoffmann's answer for the question she'd been grading next to the answer offered by Bob Clark. "Deja vu! It appears Mr. Clark liberally copied from Ms. Hoffmann." She turned in her chair to face Julie. "Give me a good reason I shouldn't flunk him right into some front-line unit. . ."
Julie glanced down then up again with a sheepish look. "You should have seen him in the lab. He was in my section and really knew his stuff. He's a natural with the equipment, Riva. He did all the neural suturing for the myomer transplant on that dog earlier in the trimester . . ." She hesitated, searching for a word. "I guess I can only describe his performance as intuitive because he knew from the readouts others were giving him what needed to be done and what doublechecked. He also knew when one of the monitors had wandered out of calibration just from the data he was hearing."
Riva nodded slowly. I know he's good with the tools and can get the work done, but his performance has dropped off from where he started at the beginning of May. "Do you have any idea what the problem is? His performance has deteriorated badly. He's still got the final exam, but even if he aced it and maxed your mark for his lab work, he'd still be looking at a 2.4 for the course. With those grades, he'll get chucked to a front-line unit faster than a shipment of coffee runs out these days."
Julie nodded, then sighed heavily. "I think things went to hell when he heard about the Fifth Syrtis Fusiliers' getting hammered on Sarna. He's got a brother ... Tom ... who was in that unit. He's not heard from him since the attack a month and a half ago. Not knowing is killing him . .."
Riva glanced at the picture of her brother Dan sitting on her desk. Bob Clark's not alone in worrying about loved ones in this war, but we all have to persevere. He doesn't know what happened to his brother, and I get to see holovids of mine getting shot up!
She looked back at Julie. "All right. We'll play it this way. Tell him he's got five days to get me a 20k report on how he knew the monitor was out of whack during the operation, and the logical consequences of the problem. I also want a covering letter stating that his concern for his brother was what distracted him during the exam." I'll see if I can talk to my father and find out if Tom Clark is O.K., or what the story is. Bob Clark will be more valuable here learning how to patch people up from the war than he will be dying to get some Liao soldier a medal.
Riva jotted down a note about speaking to her father, then looked up and smiled as Kym Sorenson entered the office and perched herself on the corner of her own desk. The pretty blond woman leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes for a moment. Riva smiled sympathetically. "Bad down in the wards, huh?"
Kym nodded, her eyes still closed. "We got a new load of casualties from the front. Over a dozen are from Sarna, late of the Fifth Syrtis Fusiliers. For them, being shipped to New Avalon is something worse than being sent to hell." Her blue eyes came slowly open. "But I think I might have two subjects who'd be willing to take a chance on your program."
Kym glanced at her small compad. "One was looking forward to a career playing Zero-G soccer. His legs got badly burned when his Warhammer tangled with two Maurauders, and so the doctors don't think they've got enough neural tissue to make fully articulated limbs work. The other was a pianist who lost her left hand. She's got an allergy that makes her a poor candidate for a cybernetic hand, and she doesn't believe a metal hand would give her the feel she needs to play anyway."
Riva smiled. "Good. Dr. Banzai wants to tour the wards on Friday. I'll give him their names and case histories tomorrow. Anybody else look promising?"
Kym sighed heavily. "Not really. Only the usual clowns who claimed they needed 'special stimulation' and they'd be fine. I took their names for Julie ..."
Julie blushed and all three women laughed aloud. Riva shut down her computer and stacked the disks it spat out at her on the left side of her desk. "Nearly quitting time. What are we going to do tonight?"
Julie shrugged expressively. "I'm not going to go watch The Immortal Warrior, Part 47 again. I don't mind looking at his body when they have him running around with no shirt on, but if I see him use a photon sword to cauterize that needier wound on his stomach again, I'll throw up."
Riva laughed lightly. "Second that motion. Every time I see the finale where he drives a Saladin Hovertank into that Phoenix Hawk Land-Air 'Mech, I don't know whether to laugh or cry. I also like the scenes where they didn't get around to covering the Kurita insignia with Liao insignia ... You can't tell what front they're supposed to be fighting on."
Kym affected an air of wounded artistic pride. "Don't you two get it? This is an allegory for man's struggle against ignorance." She shook her head, letting golden curls ripple down over her shoulders. "I'm with Julie—oiled pecs are fine for a while, but the rest of that film is creative graveyard."
"Graveyard, that's what New Avalon's been like since the Interdiction." Riva ticked items off on her fingers as she spoke. "We all knew publicly broadcast holovid programs were insipid, but now we're limited to those produced here on New Avalon. The difference between yogurt and New Avalon is that yogurt has culture—all we've got is diplomats, soldiers on leave, and aging holovid stars who can't get offworld because they've not got priority."
Julie shook her head. "You're setting your sights too high, Riva. I'd gladly settle for something more than surly service and bland food in a restaurant."
Kym nodded enthusiastically. "I understand the need for rationing, but some of the chefs are hoarding spices as if they're worth their weight in gold."
"Hey, on the black market, the spices are worth their weight in gold." Riva locked her hands into talons and lightly clawed the surface of her desk. "I'd kill right now for a bottle of Tharkad Nicht-lager or Timbiqui dark."
"All right, then, I'll find you a target." Morgan Hasek-Davion filled the office doorway for a moment, then he stepped into the room and kissed Kym. He nodded to Riva and winked at Julie, which set her to blushing again.
Riva smiled happily. "To what do we owe the honor of this visit, Highness?" He's looking better than he has since learning of his father's death, but he's still not his old self. Kym says he wants a command so bad he can taste it. It shows, too. He normally visits the wards on Thursday ... I wonder if he heard we got some people from his father's old unit?
Morgan returned her smile, slipping an arm around Kym's slender waist. "I came looking for some women who have dutifully put up with the deprivations this war has brought on all of us." He paused and glanced at Julie. "Last year, I had a complete set of the new Sherlock Holmes holovid series sent to Melissa Steiner-Davion. In return, on a diplomatic ship that arrived today, I got a shipment of a number of luxury items from the Commonwealth."
Riva shot a sidelong glance toward Julie. Kym is aware Melissa is here on New Av
alon, and I know it because I was Melissa's companion while she traveled incognito to New Avalon after the wedding. But I think Morgan's story is good enough to withstand scrutiny.
Kym gave Morgan a playful punch in the shoulder. "Well, don't keep us in suspense, you fiend! What did she send to you?"
Morgan smiled like a predator. His long, reddish-blond hair fell over his shoulders like a lion's mane. "Well, soon-to-be Doctor Allard, they will probably put a kilo or two on her willowy figure because I've got three cases of Timbiqui dark that need a home. And Julie, well, there's a pile of new Immortal Warrior holodisks and a box of that white chocolate from Vorzel just waiting to be adopted."
Julie dramatically pressed the back of her right hand to her forehead. "It would be a strain, but I think I could handle accepting such into my home."
Morgan roared with laughter, then hugged Kym roughly to himself. "As for you, my love, the Archon-Designate had her seamstress make two gowns that she guarantees will turn the fashion world on its head and a round of that cheese from Nekkear that you fancied so much at the wedding."
Kym's smile faded into a mock pout. "If I eat the cheese, I'll not be able to fit into the gowns."
Riva shook her head. "No, Kym, you keep forgetting. If the food is a gift, it has no calories."
"Ah, how right you are." Kym kissed Morgan on the cheek. "I also understand that food consumed at a party won't fatten you up, either. I suggest we get together tonight to watch the holovids and sample the Lyran Commonwealth's largess. My place, in two hours?"
"I'll get the stuff over there," Morgan said, "but I'll beg off." He hesitated. "There's some work I want to do this evening."
Riva caught the loss of enthusiasm in Morgan's voice, and the quick flash of worry in Kym's eyes, but Julie missed them entirely. The teaching assistant smiled happily as she asked, "What did you get, Highness, if I may be so bold."
"A few things. Some programs and a case of Cuchulain Irish whisky from Arc-Royal."
Kym turned Morgan's face toward her with her right hand. "Are those the Nagelring programs you hoped would come?"
Morgan nodded. "I just want to check and make sure they survived the trip."
Riva kept her thoughts from her face. I know Kym's been worried about how hard Morgan pushes himself. Morgan wants to prove he could be useful in the field so the Prince will give him a unit to command, but he just doesn't realize the risk that would be for the Prince. If Liao captured Morgan before Melissa gives the Prince an heir, Liao could use Morgan as a bargaining tool to stop the war or cause the Capellan March troops to go neutral to save Morgan's life. Studying for the Nagelring exams and maxing them isn't going to change that one whit.
Kym looked up into Morgan's green eyes. "If that's all, why not check them on the computer at my apartment, then join our little party. Please, Morgan? It will be good for you to relax."
Morgan was about to refuse, then let her concern melt his resolution. "I surrender," he said with a grin, "but I need three hours to play with the programs before we start. Agreed?"
Riva smiled slyly as an idea popped into her head. "How about four hours?" She waved a hand at her desk. "You can start working with them here because it will take us four hours to organize the party ... a real party."
The others looked at her with puzzled expressions, then Kym seemed to guess what Riva had in mind. "We're not talking about having a party at my apartment anymore, are we?"
Riva shook her head. "You said that being shipped to New Avalon to recover was like hell for many of the soldiers down in the wards. I think we should take the gifts Melissa sent and hold the world premiere of Immortal Warrior, Part 48 right here in the hospital auditorium. It will be fun for the patients, and the publicity, along with the largess from Melissa, will help quiet some of the Prince's critics."
Pleasure shone in Morgan's eyes. "I like it. If we can't be out on the front, the least we can do is show our appreciation to those who are doing the fighting." He glanced at the computer on Riva's desk, then gave a slight shake of the head. "No time for playing games. We've only got four hours to organize that party."
24
Solaris Vll (The Game World)
Rahneshire, Lyran Commonwealth
20 July 3029
Fuh Teng smiled courteously enough as Mandrinn Zhelang Qua stepped past Carrie, the buxom blond waitress holding open the curtain into the small alcove in Valhalla. Teng winked at Carrie, then killed his smile as he read the displeasure on the Liao official's face. I'd best watch myself here. He's not in a good mood.
Teng stood at the end of a rough-hewn table. Across from him, built into the alcove's wall, a holovid monitor displayed a closed-circuit feed of a fight from the Factory battlesite. He bowed respectfully. "It is an honor for a member of the Capellan Ministry of the Military to visit me, especially here in Valhalla." Teng glanced at the man's threadbare clothing, then smiled politely. "I can appreciate the danger of your mission ... traveling here to enemy territory."
The tall, slender Minister bowed to Fuh Teng, but the stiffness and shallowness of the act revealed his anger and contempt for his host, despite the eloquent words he mouthed. "It is a distinct honor to meet you, Citizen Teng. Your success, and the successes of those you sponsor in the games here on Solaris, have reached the ears of the Chancellor himself. In his name, and that of your friend, Justin Xiang, I bring greetings."
Teng smiled at the mention of Justin's name. Two and a half years ago, Justin cold-cocked me and took my place in a fight that probably would have ended with my death. But he was just a vagabond then, a wandering MechWarrior who had been disgraced. Who would have imagined he could rise so high in so short a time? "Any friend of Justin's is a friend of mine. This alcove is his actually, inherited from a legendary fighter—Gray Noton. Please, be seated."
The Mandrinn slipped past the monitor and onto the bench facing the alcove's drawn black curtain. "I am certain you know this is more than just a casual visit, Citizen Teng."
Teng nodded his head. "Would you like tea before we begin? I've finally gotten Carrie trained to make it perfectly. It's a blend from Hsien." Teng kept the smile from his face as the Mandrinn visibly struggled over whether or not to accept the offer. I know he hungers for Hsien tea—it was always the best in the Confederation. But Hsien was one of the worlds to join Ridzik's Tikonov Free Republic. Round one of our game and the point goes to . . .
Qua shivered as he nodded assent. Teng, smiling broadly enough to bring a blush to Qua's sallow face, turned to the waitress. "Carrie, be a dear and make us some tea. Use the Hsien stock—our visitor is important." Teng looked up at Maximilian Liao's messenger. "And bring us some of the kincha fruit. That new shipment can't be all used up yet, can it?"
Carrie smiled warmly at the smaller man. "As you desire, Master Teng." She bowed and withdrew, allowing the alcove drapery to slide shut.
Fuh Teng let the Liao Minister see him flip a switch on the arm of his chair. "That should deal with unwanted eavesdroppers. The tea will be here in a moment. Now, what can I do for you?"
Qua folded his hands and settled them in his lap as he composed himself. "Over the last two years, you have put together a stable of MechWarriors that is the envy of the Successor States.. ."
Teng nodded. "We have had our share of success in the arenas here in Solaris City. Justin has graciously let me reinvest his portion of the profits to expand our training program. This ensures us a steady stream of winners."
The Minister politely waited for an opening. "Yes, I knew it was your hand in managing things that made the program prosper. The Chancellor wishes you to know that your victories have inspired and heartened many of your fellow citizens. As you know, many believe the battles on Solaris are a window onto the military future of the Successor States."
Teng leaned back in his high-backed chair. "As within, so without, as we say here on Solaris."
Qua nodded curtly, obviously annoyed by the interruption.
"Quaintly put. Your g
rasp of tactics is revealed in the training you give your fighters. We believe this training is the edge that allows your fighters to defeat the Davion warriors on a regular basis."
The return of Carrie stopped the Minister's speech. She set small cerulean cups before each man, then poured the steaming, green-gray tea up to the brim of each. She set the teapot on the table, handle toward Teng, and centered the bowl of kincha between the two men.
Qua glanced at the bowl of plum-sized fruit and frowned. A thick, golden brown skin protected the kincha's sweet flesh. He looked up, then jerked back as Teng shook a razor-edged stiletto from the sleeve of his black and silver silk jacket.
Teng bowed his head when he saw the Mandrinn's reaction. "Forgive me, excellency. I did not mean to startle you." He looked toward the curtain warding them from the other revelers in Valhalla. "This place, as you know, is in the heart of the Silesia sector of the City. I would never be molested here in Valhalla, but the same cannot be said for the streets between here and my home in Cathay. Solaris is something of a lawless world and—" he proffered the knife hilt-first—"a tungsten lawyer is most useful in negotiating differences of opinion."
Qua took the weapon in trembling fingers and used it to slice through the kincha rind. He cut a small sliver from the fruit and closed his eyes as he touched it to his tongue. An expression of pure delight relaxed his features.
Teng smiled. Kincha had become little more than a memory for many after the Free Worlds League took Shuen Wan, the only place where the fruit could be grown. Ever since Maximilian Liao had lost the world, he had considered consuming the fruit equivalent to treason. Teng was surprised that Qua took the liberty.
The ex-MechWarrior sipped his tea as Qua lovingly pared the kincha down to its pit. "Minister, am I to assume from your remarks that you, or the Chancellor, would like me to instruct Capellan troops in the ways of defeating the Davion hordes?"
Qua's eyes snapped open, then darted around the alcove as he reoriented himself. "Ah, well, Citizen Teng, this is certainly a subject that has been discussed in the highest Maskirovka councils, but no conclusion has been reached."
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