Unknown Earth Volume 2

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Unknown Earth Volume 2 Page 21

by Frank Wallace


  “Uh…Angela..she’s...my wife” she mumbles. Angela cheerily waves.

  “Sergeant Angela Romanov, head shuttle pilot, and an example of the many benefits of serving. True love and adventure, would you agree?” The assistant asks.

  “Uh...” is all the red-faced Lynsey can offer, drawing laughter from the room.

  “Absolutely!” Angela jumps in, “It was love at first sight. She’s as smart and brave as she is gorgeous” she gushes, rubbing Lynsey’s arm for effect.

  “As we can see.” The assistant says dryly. She de-activates the recorder. “If you wish, we can write a script for you?” she asks Lynsey. If it was possible, she turns an even darker shade of red and turns her eyes to the deck. “Not everyone has the required competence for this type of project” the assistant blithely goes on.

  “Pull back there,” Angela says, her face contorting with annoyance, “we’re helping you with this thing, the least you can do is show some respect” she snaps. The assistant seems utterly non-plussed by the situation as if she’s faced the exact same thing a million times.

  “Come now. Just espouse the benefits of serving, it’s not difficult. A child could do this” she says. A few audible gasps are heard.

  “Right, enough of this waste. We’re finished” Amira booms, arriving at the chairs. “That’s not a suggestion. Disappear.” She growls at the assistant. She towers over the woman, who withers under her intense glare. She mumbles something about finishing later and quickly departs. Amira turns to the rest of the crew.

  “Unless the rest of you want to become very familiar with the outside of this ship, leave immediately” she barks, in a voice that brooks no refusal. The crew begin silently shuffling out of the room. Zhang nips in between the bodies in the other direction, stopping by Lynsey and flashing a lop-sided smile.

  “That wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever seen,” he says, playfully slapping Lynsey on the arm.

  “Engineering is that way. We wouldn’t want the ship to break down again, would we?” Amira says with surprising venom. Zhang’s smile fades.

  “Just trying to have some fun,” he says. He gives Lynsey a friendly pat on the shoulder before leaving with a polite bow. Nemmy comes over to Lynsey’s side. Her face is finally returning to a normal colour.

  “That was so embarrassing. I couldn’t stop thinking about human sacrifice” she moans.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Angela says with an amused grin.

  “I don’t know!” she exclaims, wildly throwing her hands around, “I should just go jump into the nearest black hole,” she says. Nemmy chuckles.

  “That’s a bit far. You handle combat alright, this shouldn’t be too bad” she says.

  “I signed up to shoot people. I didn’t sign up to be paraded around like a pet,” Lynsey replies, fanning herself with her hand, causing Angela to laugh.

  “This whole thing is ridiculous. It’s beneath us” Amira says. Angela shrugs, still the most positive of the group.

  “It wouldn’t be so bad if it was enjoyable, if they made it fun and exciting. Getting all these contrived situations and line readings is boring” she said. Lynsey nods enthusiastically. To Nemmy’s surprise, even Amira seems interested in the concept.

  “It might be good for morale if we…took charge of these recordings” She muses. Suddenly, the idea appeals greatly to Nemmy. Why not have some fun at work for once?

  “Get all the recording staff down here. I’ll try to convince them to let us handle this” she says.

  “They’ll agree, or they’ll be spending a lot of time helping Zhang in Engineering,” Amira says, with a smirk.

  As Nemmy expected, the reactions to their suggestions ranged from confusion to wailing disagreement, but eventually, the director and the staff were convinced that the end product will be far superior with the crew’s input. Amira can be a frightening presence when she wants to be. But also fair, as she had agreed to do a more traditional Q & A style interview as the price for the rest of the crew to do whatever they want. Always thinking about the crew in any situation, Nemmy reflects with heart-bursting pride. Perhaps due to embarrassment, Lynsey wanted to do something right away, so Nemmy heads back to the shuttle bay. Coming around the final corridor before the main entrance, she finds Amira with Symone, Kerry, and a number of security personnel. Also milling around a hovering recording orb was a couple of recording assistants and strangely, several scantily clad men and women. Exceptionally attractive men and women, she notes, all soft curves and hard muscle.

  “What’s happening here?” she asks.

  “We are setting up some 3Ds for recruitment stations,” one of the male assistants says. Nemmy laughs. She had seen tons of the floating holo-images of soldiers and commanders in heroic poses, plastered all over Sector HQ. She had never even contemplated the idea that they were actual officers. One of the female assistants hands Amira a tiny bundle of thread.

  “What is this?” She asks. The assistant hesitates.

  “It’s, um, it’s an outfit that we get some of the women to wear” she mumbles. Amira takes the material and holds it up with two hands. Calling the tiny combination of threads an outfit would be hugely generous. To Nemmy’s surprise, Amira bursts into laughter.

  “I absolutely will not wear that,” she says. The assistant goes to take it back, but Amira pulls it to her chest.

  “I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” she says, giving Symone a wink. “Now, I should stand with some of those people?” She asks the assistant, pointing to the oiled-up models. The assistant nods, handing her a rifle from a supply crate at her feet.

  “Yes. It looks good to potential recruits to add a sexualised element to possible careers. You can pose with a male or a female”

  “Why not both?” Amira interjects, drawing some laughter. She stands with her legs wide apart, as a male and female come over and kneel at her feet, wrapping themselves around a leg each.

  “I’m glad you’re having fun!” Nemmy jokes.

  “You should always try to enjoy your work,” Amira responds, flicking her hair back and pouting. The orb flickers a flash of shots, rotating around her to create the full image. Nemmy leaves them to it, heading into the shuttle bay. Frenzied whooping and giggles ring around the walls. Various recording orbs zoom around the room followed by various assistants, as Nemmy tries to figure out what’s happening. Crew members are spread across the room. One of the small shuttles has been moved to the centre of the bay. A giggling, half-dressed Angela skirts round the shuttle on a grav-table, all red-faced and tousled hair. She is followed by a shirtless Sabir on his own jury-rigged table. It’s then that Nemmy notices Lynsey on top of the shuttle, waving the rest of Angela’s clothes as a makeshift finishing flag. An assistant peels off from the various people milling around and comes over.

  “Captain Le Beau, do you have anything to add?” he says. He is clearly uncomfortable with the situation. Nemmy decides it’s for the best to let the Central folk experience new cultures.

  “No, let’s just watch for now” she replies. The assistant sighs. Angela deftly leaps off the table, climbs up onto the shuttle and jumps onto her wife, kissing her passionately as they both fall over to cheers. A gentle hand on her arm startles Nemmy. Samuel appears, somewhat flustered. He motions behind him. Zhang approaches with an orb in tow.

  “Captain, could you please spare me from this…fiasco? Lieutenant Wei won’t leave me alone” he moans. Zhang catches up with them, slapping Samuel on the back and giving a dainty bow to Nemmy.

  “My gorgeous Captain, I am simply sharing stories of how wonderful the Service is with my best friend. That’s why we are doing this, right?” he exclaims, grinning ear to ear. Samuel gives his friend an annoyed glare.

  “You want to share perverted sex stories! I prefer to keep my thoughts and feelings private” he snaps back. This only amuses Zhang more, as he shakes Samue
l by the shoulders.

  “Thinking about privates, that’s more like it!” he says, turning to the orb. “Serving humanity has allowed me to meet many wonderful women, women of astonishing beauty, such as our stunning Captain here. Women who would cause a blind man’s jaw to drop!”

  “I don’t care,” Samuel says.

  “Don’t you want to inspire the next generation of kids to sign up?” Zhang asks, grasping his face in mock horror.

  “Yes, to serve humanity, not to waste time sharing tawdry stories” an indignant Samuel replies.

  “Alright, Sam. Tell me one story about a woman, and I’ll never ask you about sex again” Zhang says, pulling both Nemmy and Samuel together. Samuel isn’t impressed, shrugging free.

  “I don’t have any stories!”

  “Come on, we’ve all got one” Zhang replies.

  “Not one you are likely to enjoy,” a voice says. Itzcoatl arrives, bringing a warm smile as he appears next to Samuel. Zhang scratches his head as Samuel lowers his. A wave of amused realisation hits Nemmy as she guides Zhang’s eyeline down to Samuel’s hand. Or rather, Samuel and Itzcoatl’s hands together. It takes Zhang a couple of seconds to compute. When he realises, he erupts into thunderous laughter, almost toppling over in his revelry.

  “Of course. Of course! Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, after recovering.

  “I prefer to keep my private life, private” Samuel responds, somewhat bashfully. Zhang wraps an arm around Itzcoatl, who seems considerably more relaxed about the situation.

  “You don’t waste time, do you?” he jokes. Itzcoatl shares his smile.

  “Life is short, my friend” he replies, tapping the area where he was shot.

  “Congratulations, I’m happy for you both” Nemmy says.

  “Thank you, Captain. Now, I’ll have to take our poor doctor out of this situation. Major Ghannam is preparing to do that interview if you’d like to go along. She said you’d know where” Itzcoatl says. An intriguing idea indeed. Nemmy takes her leave of the group and departs the shuttle bay.

  Arriving at a wider corridor, she finds another recording scene. This time, a small stage has been erected, surrounded by orbs. Choi, Santiago and a few Shipmates are watching intently as Kerry performs an astonishingly agile dance routine. An assistant ghosts in, next to Nemmy.

  “We often like to highlight the extracurriculars for potential recruits,” he says quietly, but Nemmy isn’t paying attention to anything other than the stage.

  Wrapped in a skin-revealing, glittering sky-blue costume, Kerry spins and hops and bends in unusual angles around a series of poles jutting out from a hovering platform a few feet off the deck. She slinks between the poles without touching the platform, drawing gasps from the assembled recording staff. Even Santiago, lurking uncomfortably behind Choi, seems impressed. Kerry flips off the end pole, landing in a bowing position to passionate applause.

  “That’s amazing, Kerry! Where did you learn to do that?” Nemmy says. Kerry shyly brushes a strand of thick red hair out of her eyes and sucks in a few breaths.

  “Thank you, Captain! I used to do athletics classes back home. I try to keep up my practice but it’s hard on the ship” the flushed young Shipmate replies.

  “You’re wasted here! You should be out doing shows” Nemmy enthuses, to the dismay of the lingering recording staff.

  “We want to encourage people to join up, not leave!” one whines in that increasingly irritating accent. Nemmy bows in forgiveness. She rubs Kerry’s arm warmly, thrilled at how many of the crew have really expressed themselves. She hopes Amira will be as forthcoming. She makes her way to Amira’s training area, guessing that the Major would want as few eyes around as possible. The raucousness of the shuttle bay fades behind her as she heads down the long corridor towards the back of the ship. The two models that posed with Amira pass by her, giggling about some private matter. Something else to ask Amira about.

  Amira is indeed in the little corner, sitting on a bench. The director is finishing preparations with his recording orb. The lights along the corridor dim, leaving only their small area lit up. Amira nods to Nemmy as she takes a seat behind the director.

  “Ready to begin?” the director asks. Amira smooths down her uniform before nodding her assent. She chose not to adorn her uniform with her many accolades, Nemmy notes. In almost every recruitment image at Sector HQ, each officer was almost toppling over with the medals and award insignias scattered across their torsos.

  “Senior Major 2nd grade, Amira Ghannam, third in command of the ISF Boomslang. Over a decade and a half of loyal service to humanity. You’ve been awarded a Bronze Sword, a Silver Sword, and two Bronze Shields. Truly, you are one of the finest officers in the entire Space Force, and an inspiration to all who serve” the director says, with genuine reverence. Amira awkwardly glances at the floor, unable to hold in a shy laugh.

  “If you say so,” she says quietly. Nemmy grins.

  “Your record speaks for itself. Why did you choose to join the Imperial Space Force?” The director asks. At this, Amira straightens up.

  “Because I felt that I could use my skills and experience to protect people weaker than myself. Perhaps make a useful contribution to society”

  “What would you say is the most positive part of serving humanity?” the director asks quickly.

  “The many fine officers and soldiers I have had the pleasure of working with” Amira instantly replies.

  “And what is the least positive?” The director asks. Amira takes a moment.

  “Losing many of those officers in service” Amira replies. Nemmy feels a sudden deep sorrow for her. To her shame, it has never really occurred to her during her time at Sector HQ, but anyone in Amira’s position must have seen several friends die in combat. Or lovers, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, the list goes on.

  “Always a regretful event” The director offers.

  “Every single person that dies wearing this uniform dies for something,” Amira says proudly.

  “I would call them heroes, wouldn’t you?” The director announces. Oddly, Amira shifts her gaze away.

  “I suppose” she mumbles. The director shares Nemmy’s confusion.

  “Is there any doubt? To me, and to the countless millions who look up to our brave officers, they are all heroes. You yourself are one of our greatest heroes, even if you are too modest to say” he says with a warm and not entirely fake grin. Amira dismisses the very idea with a handshake.

  “I’m not that modest, believe me. But I’m no hero” she says, still gazing at the floor.

  “Why would you say that?” Nemmy interjects. At this, Amira does look up. The director and Nemmy both get off their seats to stand right next to the recording orb. Amira wilts beneath the confusing stares. Letting out a sigh, she leans back against the wall and holds both her hands up, fingers stretched and palms facing away from her.

  “Look at my hands. Clean, soft, feminine, whatever word you’d use to describe a woman’s hands, yes?” she says, smiling weakly. “Don’t be shy” she adds, waggling her fingers. Nemmy giggles as she squeezes her fingertips. The director very awkwardly jabs a sole finger, his face displaying his extreme discomfort at the very concept. Amira laughs, but her smile disappears quickly.

  “These soft feminine hands once strangled a man to death” she breathes. The director gasps loudly, whipping his hands away.

  “Emperor, preserve us” he utters. His bland professional expression has been replaced with guttural disgust. Clearly, someone who has never even fired a weapon.

  “I was still a chick back then; it was only my third ship search. This man had killed a couple of commandos, and I made a tactical error. I wasn’t nearly as skilled as I am now. I hesitated with my weapon, and he was on me. We grappled and fought. It was him or me, and it wasn’t going to be me. At that moment, enraged by the loss of my fellow
soldiers, I felt that I had to kill him. I felt like he deserved it for killing my friends. I wanted to kill him.” Amira says. She looks past the orb with wide, unfocused eyes. Nemmy recalls a similar look on the shipyard station. Amira must deal with this torment every day, she realises with utter dismay.

  “He was the first person I’d ever killed. It was so…easy. And it gets easier every time. Is that heroic? Don’t heroes save lives? What we do out here is necessary, but it isn’t even faintly heroic” Amira utters.

  By the time she finishes speaking, everyone is staring intently at the deck. Without saying a word, the director de-activates the orb and quietly shuffles around the corner, leaving Nemmy and Amira in the now dimly lit corridor. They sit quietly for a moment.

  “I don’t think he’s going to use most of that” Nemmy says finally. Amira laughs.

  “Possibly. He’ll use the fluff at the beginning and leave out the truth” she responds.

  “You know, I’m sorry about-“

  “Don’t worry about it” Amira cuts in.

  “You really don’t consider yourself a hero?” Nemmy asks. A knowing smile appears on Amira’s face.

  “Well…” she laughs. “No, I meant what I said. But you don’t need to be a hero to do important work. Anyone who signs up must do so because they want to serve the public, not because they want to win medals and appear in these stupid promos. Now that I will attest to” she says.

  “You know, that’s the kind of thing a hero would say,” Nemmy says, getting up with a warm smile. Amira exaggerates her disgust at more flattery.

  “Shut up,” Amira says. Nemmy laughs some more.

  “Anything for you, my hero,” she says sweetly.

  “I will actually throw you out the nearest airlock” Amira jokes as they walk down the corridor.

  “Then you’d be Admiral Winters hero” Nemmy instantly responds, and Amira bursts into thunderous laughter.

  Two Faced

  There are few experiences better than the all-encompassing heat of the Sun Room. One of Sanctum’s most popular attractions, the perfect replication of a summer-time beach on Earth takes up several entire sections of the gargantuan station, having been expanded several times to meet demand. In an act of astonishing generosity, Choi had pre-booked a whole slot just for the Boomslang crew for an entire year. This was the first time they were able to take advantage of her kindness. As soon as they arrived at the station, the entire crew made their way straight to their assigned “beach”, much to the chagrin of the hordes of regular customers waiting in queues for free slots or cancellations, or the people desperately trying to squeeze discounts out of management.

 

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