by Nate Duke
Know what? I didn’t care. The men had fought well. They deserved a break.
And so did I, but life had larger plans for me.
“Sir!” One of the pilots ran towards me, waving his tablet in his hand. “The port controllers need your authorization and Lady Elizabeth’s approval to give Banner the special takeoff codes. Mind signing yours right now?”
Authorization? Takeoff codes? What was going on? What was he up to?
I told the pilot to forget it and to scrap the request. Banner had a lot to explain.
I trotted downstairs to Banner’s room. Lady Elizabeth had given him one of the best suites in the station: large, comfortable, and with excellent virtual views and he was also nearer the governor’s family’s chambers. I’d received the highest deference in politeness terms, but it also placed me alone on an empty floor, like my acting captain’s rank deserved. I was in a set of oversized rooms which rarely received the attention they deserved. My room stank of old air and hadn’t been dusted until the morning before our arrival. I was also on my own and without human company unless I went for a walk. Captains, apparently, need to spend all day by themselves and without contact with anyone but servants. I wasn’t going to complain, but upper class behaviors puzzled me.
I don’t mean to criticize, but he’s supposed to be the career officer, not me. He knows the rules, he knows that officers sometimes disagree with their orders, and he knows that we can’t afford to lose more men. He didn’t have the right to be annoyed, and he couldn’t act like an angry kid throwing a tantrum.
I don’t sound like a possessive wife, do I?
Perhaps I should’ve barked orders instead of chasing after my officers, but taking out the electric baton and using it on the men will only lead to insubordination. And besides, I wasn’t as corpulent as most of the men, and I didn’t want to enter a physical confrontation against anyone. I’m not a pacifist, but I don’t like risking my own health.
I got there and found Banner and Lady Elizabeth in one of his rooms as if society didn’t frown upon a young couple spending time alone in a room. Lady Elizabeth was sitting in one of the armchairs by the simulated fire, and Banner remained on the dark brown leather couch. He was sitting on the tip of the cushion, with one of his forearms resting on one knee and holding a glass of cognac. His other fist rested on his hip, and his eyes were fixed on her. Too fixed on her, since he’d told me that he wasn’t interested.
I walked in, and Banner stood up and bowed curtly at me. I nodded back; engineers don’t take manners as seriously as everyone else.
“Got your permission already, Banner?” I asked.
He seemed confused, so I told him about the authorization he’d requested. He denied all charges and said that I was making things up, and that I was insane. I didn’t need him to apologize or to beg for my forgiveness; I was fine as long as he didn’t keep trying to do things behind my back. He kept denying it, though. Did he really consider me so stupid?
Lady Elizabeth insisted that I should join them. The North Star’s acting captain didn’t have a good excuse to dodge the invitation, so I sat down.
We chatted about the artificial weather at the spaceport, the holographic sky in the main street, and we ended up talking about buildings and architecture. None of us was interested in the conversation, and the happy couple kept exchanging furtive glances.
“Father has sent me a message through the slow Net,” Banner said. “I have no idea how his long-range text has gone through the blockade if it’s blocking everything the Admiralty says.” He shrugged and swirled his cognac lazily. “He thinks you’ll get us all killed, and I won’t perpetuate his bloodline if I’m dead.” He put on an indifferent smile and nodded at Lady Elizabeth as if it turned him into some kind of hero. “Father is a romantic in family matters.”
“My father is very strict too. I sometimes wonder if he thinks we’re machines without any feelings.” Lady Elizabeth smiled and fluttered her eyelashes at Banner. She was desperate for his attentions, and he didn’t fall into her trap. I don’t know how he managed; I would’ve walked barefoot to the end of the world for such a smile.
The end of the world? I was desperately pathetic at times. I’d been alone for too long, and the streak wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. Especially if I continued sounding so foolish. What was next? Unicorns?
Banner continued his tale about his family. He came from one of the historical naval families on Earth. His uncle was an admiral, his grandfather had been an admiral before him, and so had many of his other ancestors. The Admiralty was plagued with men from his bloodline, and he’d managed to climb the ranks and get promotions and seniority without ever boarding a combat vessel. Now that he’d joined the North Star, his father had encouraged him to question my command and to desert if he wasn’t going to lead the men. Average men can’t leave the Navy until their term is over, but men like Banner can do whatever they like and nobody will ever go after them. Even if a magistrate decided to judge him, he’d be shielded by the rest of his family’s friends and powerful acquaintances. The law was equal for everyone, but some got away with more than others.
Banner wasn’t planning to quit, though. His jaw tensed whenever he mentioned his father’s instructions or his duty towards his family. He was the typical wealthy gentleman with enough family issues to fill several hard drives with his story, and Lady Elizabeth enjoyed every detail that he told us. He spoke of his miserable childhood aboard a wealthy space station. His family had servants who grew their food and Banner didn’t even taste contamination from Earth, but his family’s wealth came with the responsibility to join the Navy and eventually move to politics to perpetuate his family’s rule. He was bored of the tale; he must’ve talked about it to all his acquaintances. Lady Elizabeth’s eyes widened with greed whenever he spoke of his past, present, or predicted future, and she became even more interested in catching his attentions.
“I can’t blame my father, though,” Banner said to conclude his tale. “It’s part of the game we play, part of our very nature. What would the world be without using one’s influence to get something?”
“A meritocracy, perhaps?” Hatfield had entered the room and knocked after making himself heard. He frowned and tilted his nose upwards like a posh aristocrat who is tired of the world. “What kind of dirty, uncivilized and primitive society would ever promote men based on their merits rather than their connections or their blood? We’d have no differences with animals… or worse! We’d be just like the proletariat! Don’t you think this would be the most horrible reality to live in?” He bowed politely at us and maintained his gaze with Banner. He was being polite and very courteous, and his age gave him the right to say everything he wanted. Old people can insult someone and get away with it. What are you going to do? Get into a fight with them?
I have to acknowledge it, though: Hatfield has a funny view of life. Rich people can make fun of their social class. I was poor, so I couldn’t join the fun. Nobody would’ve liked my words, and Banner and Lady Elizabeth would’ve sneered at me.
Banner gave Hatfield a cold smile but didn’t speak a word. Lady Elizabeth hadn’t liked what she’d heard, but she wasn’t going to show it.
“I’m sorry to interrupt this reunion,” Hatfield continued, “but there’s a legion of gentlemen outside, seeking an audience. They have a list of suggestions to improve their lives aboard the port. They haven’t resorted to violence yet, but they are quite displeased. I would say this is your duty, Lady Elizabeth, since your father is unavailable right now.”
“I’ve told port security to take care of them,” Lady Elizabeth said flatly. “I’m obviously not going to take care of them myself.”
“Obviously,” Hatfield echoed. “Treating them like human beings would be far too demeaning for you. It’s best to let a dozen brutes beat and arrest innocent men whose only sin is feeding their families.”
“We’re foreigners here, Doctor,” Banner said. “This is Lady Elizabeth’s doma
in. We can watch, but we can’t interfere.”
“And we’re trying to fix our ship without getting kicked out,” I added. “We wouldn’t last a week in the blockade.”
Call me coward if you like, but I won’t risk my ship and my neck just to solve social matters that won’t fix anything. Society is like a high school food chain: the strongest live at the top and prey on the weak. What was I supposed to do? Lead a rebellion, become an outlaw, and steal from the rich until they send a fleet to destroy me? I wouldn’t last a year. Greater men had tried before me, and they’d all failed. I didn’t have a martyr’s soul.
“I won’t judge,” Hatfield said, “but matters escalate if nobody puts a stop to them.” He acted as if problems around the station had nothing to do with him.
“Is someone handing out moral authority?” I asked. “Because they’ve given you too much.”
Lady Elizabeth let out a quiet laugh and covered her mouth with her hand to look politer.
“I’ve taken it myself,” Hatfield said. “It’s a direct consequence of feeling entitled. By the way, Captain, I’d start preparing defenses if I were you. The bridge is detecting more anomalous signals and they’re still trying to decipher them. The sooner you get there, the sooner you’ll start preparing for a potential attack. I wouldn’t want to be boarded in the middle of the night again.”
Crap. Why can’t I ever relax when I’m aboard a ship? My life sucked as an engineer because captains demanded impossible deadlines and wanted the engineering lieutenant to supervise repairs. Life sucked as acting captain because I ended up with my engineering tasks added to a whole new world of problems. And during my limited rule we’d fought more enemies than in the entire previous year.
And now I had to go to the bridge and see if we were about to die. Do all captains need to worry about death so often?
Chapter 21
Lady Elizabeth had sent us on our way to prepare the port’s defenses against the mysterious enemy. We hadn’t learned anything useful since their last attack; we were still blind regarding their flag or their intentions. They were either pirates or one of the aggressively expanding countries seeking a strategic post near no man’s land.
Lady Elizabeth had no idea of how the governor defended the port, or if they’d ever been under such intense attacks. She was the classic pampered girl who didn’t care about the real world as long as she attended balls and met single gentlemen.
Don’t take me wrong; unworried living is part of our way of life and I don’t mean to talk badly about it. Sometimes, though, I wonder how the world still turns if everyone keeps staring at their own navels.
Hatfield had warned us of the local mob too, but Lady Elizabeth could handle them for the time being. The locals were only after better food, less work, and a bit of entertainment. The blockade was limiting the port’s access to galactic TV channels, and it was making everyone impatient and restless. They’d go back to normal as soon as we solved the blockade problems.
Banner focused on the port’s cloaking systems first. We’d been scanned during the attacks, but we could move elsewhere and remain hidden as long as we turned invisible to enemy sensors. A nice idea, if only we’d had the cloaking technology, something like fifty years earlier, when our ships were almost undetectable to most other countries. Now, we were as visible as if we kept broadcasting our position. Besides, the port’s communications never stopped emitting, turning us into a large target. I hate being a sitting duck.
“Forget the cloaking systems,” I told Banner. “Won’t make a difference.”
“It will,” Banner said. “I don’t want anyone to attack us unless they scan the area first.”
“We didn’t notice any scanning aboard the Star,” I said, “and her cloaking systems are better than the port’s. She’s smaller and easier to hide, too, and it didn’t stop the Cassocks from finding and boarding us.”
“I want to cloak one of the escape shuttles,” he said. “And the Star, too. We need an escape route.”
An escape route? Did he really expect to fly away and remain hidden aboard a flimsy space shuttle? Or the Star? And was he going to leave everyone else to die? How heroic.
“Do you think this is a medieval castle?” I asked. “Flying out of the port is a guaranteed death sentence, and I’m not going to make it any easier for anyone.”
“Would you rather die defending the port?”
“I’d rather focus on protecting the port and surviving instead of running away and getting a bullet up my ass for turning my back on the enemy.”
Flanagan approached us with a wide grin. “Ass-bullet dodging,” he said. “One of the best incentives to stay and defend a port, ain’t it?”
Banner disagreed with me, but I was in charge. I told him to forget the cloaking systems unless one of my engineers turned the whole port invisible.
Flanagan had worked on training the pilots and giving them pep talks, but the crew’s motivation was falling. We’d been away from home for too long after the attacks, and our survival was becoming less and less likely in the long run.
I needed to get the Admiralty to send us reinforcements and to escort us back to Earth. Would they move a finger to rescue a crew of lowborns and only one career officer? I honestly doubted it.
Flanagan had learned military strategy during his years in the Navy. He’d worked under many captains and sunk and captured many ships, and he talked about the battles he’d lived. Nothing compared to the sneak attacks we’d suffered lately, but he insisted that we’d find a creative way out of it.
“I followed you because we were all going to die and I’d rather put up a fight than let the Cassocks take me alive,” Flanagan told me. “You were an engineer, this was your first real command, and you put up a bloody good fight. Sinking five ships is more than most officers do in their first year. I don’t care what anyone says; you’re the luckiest madman I’ve ever worked for.”
“How romantic,” I said sarcastically.
“You have my loyalty and the men’s, sir,” he said. “We just need one of your suicidal plans, and we’ll be back on Earth within a fortnight.”
It sounded really well, but lucky moves aren’t so frequent when you’re facing a fleet without even knowing who your enemy is.
“Why don’t we hit them with all our mines?” Banner asked. “Let’s take all we have aboard the Star and hope it’s enough. If it is, lucky us. If it isn’t, we’ll know sooner.”
“I’d rather leave myself a back-up plan,” I said. “If we hit them with all we have, what are we supposed to do later?”
“Pray, probably,” Flanagan said. “It’s a very civilized way of dying, ain’t it?” He grinned at Banner.
Banner stared at Flanagan and me with a tense expression. He hated it when someone defied his opinions and his common sense, so it was an even better incentive for Flanagan and me to do so. It isn’t personal, just a way of releasing tension without hitting anyone. Banner would’ve resorted to his baton if they’d been alone, but he wasn’t going to resort to primitive violence if he was in public. Flanagan knew when to pester the acting subcommander.
Some of my engineers arrived later, and they updated us about their attempts at calibrating the sensors to detect enemy ships. We had no serious readings aside from white noise that came from a specific spot, so they’d focused on scanning for regular white noise emissions. They were working on a prototype radar to predict how long we had until the enemy arrived. It wasn’t magical, but it took off our blindfolds.
Once we’d finished talking about our new radars, I instructed them to setup an outer rim with mines and space trash to protect our fighters, then an inner rim, and we could always fall back to the core. It was unsafe, we were unlikely to survive, but we’d always have more chances than if we stayed still and waited for the attack.
Banner was unconvinced but didn’t show it. We were both on the same team, and he was supposed to back me up.
York and Kozinski brought some crates wi
th spare parts. York stopped moving, but Kozinski kept walking absentmindedly and bumped onto him.
York pushed him back. “Can’t you look where you’re going? We’re in the engineering bay.”
“Huh?” Kozinski looked around. “Uh.” He nodded and dropped the crate onto the floor, missing York’s foot by an inch.
“Careful,” York said. “That’s my foot you’ve almost crushed. Need it to work, you know? We’re nothing more than grunts here. Good for dragging and lifting stuff, but useless for all else. Need my body healthy.”
“We’re helpin’ the engineers.” Kozinski looked at some of the engineers and gave them honest and simple smiles. Several men nodded back at him. He wasn’t the smartest man aboard the ship, but he tried hard and he rarely got into fights with intellectuals.
“And if we knew how to shortcut or tinker, we’d be sitting down on chairs and doing the work, nice and easy.” He moved his hand horizontally in the air to emphasize his words. “But we’re the grunts doing the heavy work.”
“I like liftin’ stuff,” Kozinski said. “Can’t break anythin’, I can’t.”
York shook his head and headed out again, followed closely by Kozinski.
“Won’t get anywhere unless we start acting civilized,” York said as they left. “We need to take some engineering classes or something. Have you seen the men in there? They’re civilized, polite, well-learned.” He kept talking, but his voice became fainter as he got farther away.
Soon, I just heard Kozinski’s characteristic laugh, who, who, who.
Those two didn’t worry about the imminent attack.
Chapter 22
The wait turned minutes into hours, and hours into days. Everyone worked on improvised defense systems for a spaceport that had never been designed to survive a large-scale attack. We were larger than a spaceship, so we had many more regions to protect. We could barely fly the North Star with our crew, and the governor had fired too many of his security men throughout the years.
