by Jim Rudnick
He didn’t know that this could cause a problem with the NAV AI as it asked the Ansible navigation for positional readings hundreds of times a minute.
He didn’t know that the Majestic would follow those headings incrementally and move the helm by thousandths of a degree each time it polled the Ansible for location readings.
He just didn’t know …
And he returned to his comfortable seat and the vid he’d been watching.
#####
“Sit, please, all of you,” Admiral Higgins said to the nine cadets who’d filed into the administration conference room and then had snapped to attention, saluting as they stared straight ahead.
They did just that, Tanner noted, and he was looking them over when the admiral began to lambaste them all.
“You idiots! You stupid, stupid idiots. Did you not think that having a race around a tower might lead to an accident? And I’m calling it an accident as yet we have no eyewitnesses who can swear that one or more of you pushed Cadet—” he stopped and looked at Tanner.
“Cadet Minden, Sir, one Jeremy Minden of the Abstract realm, Sir,” he barked out, identifying the casualty.
The admiral nodded and continued Yes, Cadet Minden may have been forced into the tower. We don’t know, but if we do find that, the guilty party or parties here in this room will spend decades out on Halberd, the RIM prison planet.”
He threw his stylus onto the tablet in front of him, and the whole room knew he was pissed.
“Explanations, please? Can someone tell me how this happened? Why this happened? What the reasons were for this race?”
The cadets sat still. Tanner looked over at one of them—he didn’t have the cadet’s name, so he just pointed at him.
“Cadet, I don’t know if you know, but I was the one who gave you CPR after your flyer slammed into the tarmac. EMTs really did the work of saving your life though—so can you tell me anything at all?”
He asked, knowing that the young man would feel some kind of responsibility. Hopefully as he’d been the one that had dragged him out of the ruined flyer and supported his life until the EMTs had arrived, that kind of liability could be used.
The cadet shuffled in his seat, and his eyes never left the table in front of him as he ran a hand back through his hair but didn’t speak yet.
As Tanner got the cadet’s ID from his tablet, it told him that this human was from Hope, a RIM Confederacy planet, and had been at the academy for two years so far—he was going into his junior year.
Name is Mano Berrak, it appeared. Hope, Tanner thought, is that planet where due to its huge, huge oceans, most of the landmasses were smaller islands and small sub-sub-continents. As he’d learned before, that had turned their society into small independent groups of very individualized persons, each with their own way of doing things. That might work here, he thought.
“Can you not offer up anything, Cadet Berrak?” he said in the midst of the silence around the room.
The cadet finally nodded his head. “Sir, yes Sir. We were all coming in from Dessau—I don’t know how many of us there were, but a few of us pushed past the norms of flyer usage, Sir. We—and yes, I was one of them—flew down deep into the canyon, buzzed the river and a couple of boats on same. We angled up via some of the canyon mesas, and all of a sudden, it was a race, Sir. Some flyers are quicker than others, yet all are limited by the skill of the flyer pilot. We raced back up the canyon to the mountains—then did a full loop around same and then back to Tower Number One,” he said and then he paused.
Another cadet interrupted.
“Sir, Cadet Williams here, Sir. I was in the lead, and I took it on myself to do a quick run to the last tower, Tower Number Four, then a loop back all the way to Tower Number One. It was there that I’d suppose that Cadet Minden’s flyer hit the tower, Sir. I was in the lead so I didn’t see it—but it was an accident, Sir. Not a single cadet would ever force another to crash, Sir. That I do know.”
Skoggian, so his purple skin was shiny still with youth, Tanner saw. He had leaned forward to speak, and his hands were folded carefully in front of him. He looked like he said what he thought was true—and suddenly Tanner wished Bram could have been with them. Having an Issian Adept at the table would have helped, and he made a mental note to ask for that later from the admiral.
He nodded. “Does anyone have anything else to say? It was an accident—Minden just didn’t make the turn with enough space between his flyer and the wall of the tower—hence the accident? Is that your story,” he asked yet again.
All the cadet heads in front of him were nodding.
Cadet Berrak offered up one more thing. “Sir, as we were going into that final loop around the tower, all I know is that Minden was at the tail end—it stands to reason that if he could have cut the corner a little tighter, he might have moved up, Sir …” he said and that too got some nods.
“Fine. I want your written reports in my INBOX by sixteen hundred hours today,” the admiral said quietly.
“And I want your solemn promise that your racing days are over, for as long as you’re at the academy.”
Again, the all the cadets nodded, and after the admiral said, “Dismissed,” they got up, saluted, and then left the conference room.
He looked at Tanner. “Comments, Captain?” he asked as he toyed with the stylus on the table, twisting it one way and then the other.
“Sir, all I know is that this Cadet Berrak is from Hope and they tend to be individuals who handle themselves in their own ways. I would think then that he told the truth. Minden was at the end of the line of flyers, tried to cut the corner—Sir, I think we’ve all tried that in our own past—and cut it too close. I don’t think we’ll find out much more, Sir,” he added.
The admiral nodded and then made some notes on his tablet, the stylus finally being used for what it was made.
“Captain—I’ll leave it to you to contact the parents of Cadet Minden—normal sympathies and all. I’d like to put him up on Admiral Child’s Wall of Valor too, but leave that one to me. Talk to the academy communications department too, as we need to put out an official notice of the accident as well as a media release too. Get me copies of same before they go live too, please, so I can vet same,” he said, and he tossed the stylus one more time at his tablet.
“Goddamn kids. Did they never consider that this kind of thing could happen?” he swore and shook his head.
We’ve all been young, Tanner thought, as we seldom get caught doing stupid things … but hopefully, these cadets had learned … it surely had cost enough …
#####
As the brace of EliteGuards strode into the conference room in the Dessau landing port administration building, Tanner had a growing suspicion that something was up.
“Ten-Shun,” the lead guard said, and there was only one reason that a lowly sergeant could ever use that term to the admirals at the table—a Royal was about to enter the room. It wasn’t normally done, but this time, for some reason, it was, and as he quickly rose to his feet, only a few seconds behind Admiral Higgins and Childs, he said over and over to himself, ”Let it be the Baroness, let it be the Baroness.”
When the Lady St. August walked in a minute later, he, like all present, snapped a salute and held it.
She went to the empty chair at the head of the table, held the back in both hands, looked them all over, and then said, “Thank you, one and all” as she twisted the chair to take her seat.
A vision in ultramarine blue, he thought, as he carefully sat down beside Admiral Higgins on one side of the large table and noted everyone else was a bit nonplussed. He looked down at his tablet so he wouldn’t have to look at her hair, which was swept off to one side, a blue sapphire the width of a plum holding it there. Her top was some kind of leather but with a scale pattern of an animal he’d never seen before, and it was matched by her knee-high boots that were the same color and scale pattern.
He toyed with his tablet, seemingly to make notes perh
aps as Admiral Childs took over the chairing of the meeting and went around the table making introductions.
“Of course, representing the Barony of Neres is our Lady St. August,” he began, and she fluttered a wave at the table, as she was staring at no one in particular but looking at each face as they were to be introduced.
“We have Admiral Higgins here,” Childs said as he looked across the table and half-pointed to the man.
“He’d be the one who has wrangled the construction so damn—pardon me, My Lady—so darn well that we are going to make our deadlines and open with full occupancy permits in twenty-three days. Ably aided by Captain Tanner Scott,” Childs then said as he pointed at Tanner, smiled, and repeated “Ably aided, indeed, Ma’am. Between these two navy men, we’re on track—and under budget too, the bean-counters tell us,” he said.
She nodded.
That was all that she did, as Childs went on.
“We also have there the top construction bosses led by Superintendent Bill Chapman, the smiling man down the table a bit,” he said, and sure enough, the superintendent was smiling.
“So nice to meet you, Ma’am. And as Admiral Childs said, we’re right on target to meet the deadline in about three weeks.”
“I would hope so, Superintendent—you’ve been at this for, what, almost a year?” she said dryly, which quieted down the whole meeting.
She’s maybe looking for something to rant about maybe, Tanner thought, so here goes.
“Ma’am, not to interrupt, but what the superintendent did not say is that with a construction job like this one—four brand new fifty-plus-story towers, built on a canyon yet coming in on time—is a task that yes, a year ago wasn’t envisioned as being that difficult. Yet it was. And it was still met by committed, skilled workers who were well led by the superintendent and his crew chiefs too, Ma’am,” Tanner said, his voice not overly forceful but still polite.
She looked at Tanner and said nothing.
Those eyes … piercing yet aloof, drilling down yet saying nothing to anyone else who might be watching …
She nodded and then turned back to Childs. “And this cadet accident, Admiral? Can you explain that to me?”
Tanner interrupted again, holding out a hand to the admiral as a gesture.
“Sir, if I might … Ma’am, the accident was just that. You know that to be accepted at the academy as a navy officer candidate and to work hard for the four years of university training and co-op naval placements is one of the most vied for items on all youngster’s wish lists. The fact that we take only the best should be weighed into this argument—that at times, even the best show some pretty young choices, and this accident was just one of those choices.
“The cadets were just racing to blow off some steam—as well as to show who’s king of the castle, and none of them really has enough flyer hours to know their craft and its shortcomings. They all made the same mistake, Ma’am—and one of them in trying to catch up to the race leaders made a choice to push his flyer—and it cost him his life,” Tanner said as his own voice cracked, and he took a deep breath before he continued.
“We are all saddened by this, Ma’am, and are only too glad that there was only one casualty. The other students still face the Academy Student Honor Tribunal—to be held in the first semester, Ma’am. And while it’s little consolation, Admiral Childs has okayed that we put the victim’s ID and photo up on the Academy Wall of Valor for all to see—and hopefully, chill the cadets a bit too, Ma’am.”
He spoke in a rush, all the words jumbled together, but what he said did have the navy men at the table nodding.
It had been an accident, and one that no one would forget.
The Lady St. August looked at him and said nothing.
Her eyes looked at his eyes with what he thought was a bit of sadness, and at the corner of his mouth, a teensy smile appeared.
She nodded and said, “Admiral, let’s get to the Agenda, shall we?”
The planning of the academy opening event began, and all present had something to offer. To be held in just twenty-four days, it was to occur, it was decided, on the landing tarmac over at Tower Number Four—the administration tower. Plans were made to have the whole tarmac set up to hold about eighteen hundred guests, so seating, refreshments, and catering were also needed. Someone had to figure out how to shuttle the guests from the other three towers, where parking would be established. Someone else had to arrange for cadet tour leaders to be able to take anyone who landed at one of the other towers to get a tour inside that one before getting on the shuttle to take them to Tower Number Four and the event ceremonies. Someone else needed to arrange for the stage, audio-visual details, AI details, and also for any heads of state who’d all been invited, but the question was, how many were coming.
Admiral Higgins’ aide, Lieutenant Kelsey CoSharan, took his cue and began the listing of who was invited and had agreed to attend and who had not bothered to reply. As most of the RIM Confederacy members had a stake in the academy, as their own citizens became cadets there, all had been invited, so the list was a bit more than the forty realms in the Confederacy. But only five had replied so far—the Duchy d’Avigdor, the Barony, Eran, the Caliphate, and Alex’n. Of course, as the date was now barely three weeks away, some had waited too long to even be able to make the event, and that had to be taken into account.
“Lieutenant, if you could then pare down the unanswered list to those who could still get to Eons in twenty-three days, how many heads of state could be expected if they all said yes?” Lady St. August asked politely.
Lieutenant CoSharan nodded, then worked on his tablet for a moment, and said, “We could have as many as thirteen, Ma’am.”
She nodded and looked at Admiral Childs. “Then let’s plan on having the thirteen, Admiral. If they come—we’re good; if they don’t, we have some extra space on the stage,” she said nicely.
Admiral Childs nodded to her and dug his elbow into his aide’s arm beside him.
Tanner was sure this would be looked after too.
“The Master Adept would, of course, be a speaker—was she not able to come to today’s meeting?” Lady St. August inquired.
Everyone looked at each other, and no one spoke up until Admiral Higgins offered his own opinion.
“Ma’am, she was invited, but we never heard back on this at all, Ma’am. But I will ensure that the full report of this meeting—with all its decisions—are made available to her soon after—”
“Admiral, if I might,” Lady St. August interrupted, “could I perhaps suggest that you hard copy this and have your number two—Captain Scott—take it directly to her as soon as the meeting is adjourned, perhaps? That would show our respect for her too, yes?” she said sweetly.
The admiral didn’t miss a beat. “Ma’am, great idea. I’ll personally order the captain,” he said as he patted Tanner’s arm that lay beside him on the table, “to get it to her personally, Ma’am. Great idea, Ma’am.”
Tanner said and did nothing.
Going to the Issian walled city wasn’t new to him, and the trip by flyer would be a nice change from the added work of the event planning details that would fall to him.
“Other than her then,” Lady St. August said, “as far as I know, I will also speak as will Admiral Childs and the cadet president too—is there anyone else, Admiral, that I didn’t know about?”
He shook his head, but then a thought occurred to him. “Ma’am, as all of the Confederacy realms use the academy, might the other heads of state coming also want a few minutes too, to say offer their congratulations, maybe?” he asked.
She tilted her head to the side, thought on that, then turned back to Lieutenant CoSharan, and said, “Can you check on that too, for us, Lieutenant? It would be better to know up front than have our Master of Ceremonies have to make changes on the fly,” she said, as she pushed back her chair and began to rise.
“Exactly who might that be, Ma’am?” Lieutenant CoSharan asked, and
Tanner wasn’t surprised. Faraway citizens liked all their i’s dotted and their T’s crossed too.
“Under discussion right now, I understand—I only got the nod to represent the Barony recently—my stepmother, the Baroness, had planned on doing this herself, but there are some issues, I understand, with a newly annexed planet of ours, so she had to go to Ghayth in a hurry,” she said.
Ghayth? Issues? Tanner thought—wondering if Major Stal was there and what could arise that he couldn’t handle.
He was about to inquire right here in the meeting and then caught himself. It wasn’t the time nor place.
The Lady St. August rose as her EliteGuards stepped forward and escorted her out of the conference room and out to the Sterling, her frigate in the Barony Navy fleet. She walked, Tanner thought, with grace, but there was a very definite sexy sway to her hips, he also thought as she ambled to the doorway and turned to leave.
Tanner sat, nodded, and listened to the various talk around the table, but he didn’t remember much. He did know to tell the speaker ”Yes, got it—but message me the details,” as he wondered what this was really all about.
CHAPTER EIGHT
As he sat and awaited the Master Adept, Tanner was sure this whole trip to deliver the minutes of the academy opening event was just a waste of time. He had twiddled his thumbs now for more than twenty minutes, watching the door, but no one had appeared yet as he sat on the small brown sofa.
Everything here is a shade of brown, he thought. Mud brown, cow brown, coffee brown, mocha brown … no more names for shades of brown. Probably a good thing, he thought, as he got up to stretch his legs. He walked over to the close window on the near wall and looked out at the landscape beyond the walled city. As the tower he was in was taller than those walls, he could see the farms—or what had been farms at one time—that stretched out toward the horizon and the mountains on the far horizon. The farm had surely seen better times as the house was boarded up. The barns were too, and the undergrowth in the fields was surely not from crops.
