Hans crossed his arms and leaned back. The sturdy Vari-form seat protested with a metallic groan. “I am not planning to go outside very much, but that is actually the kind of environment we Saturnians were genetically designed to survive and work in.”
Passing the time like this, we dropped out of Quasi-space six days later and into the Richter System.
As we approached the reddish-brown planet, I was reminded of Alvor’s Cove. There wasn’t much difference between those two worlds, looking at them from space. Richter 4 was only a few shades darker and had distinctive reddish tones mixed into the sandy browns.
Our shuttle had received landing instructions and went down over the night side of the planet. There, on a dusty plain surrounded by tall mountains, were four gigantic landing fields arranged in typical Union fashion, like the petals of a large flower centered on a shimmering blue half-sphere. Brilliant floodlights and landing field beacons in various colors illuminated the base and made it stand out of the otherwise dark surroundings. I actually found the sight quite beautiful to look at.
Beyond the landing fields, to the planetary east, a large transparent hemisphere filled with green and the shimmering surface of what looked like a large lake. On the outskirts of the landing field, toward the south, were the service buildings and warehouses of a dockyard, big enough to repair dreadnoughts and the largest standard battleships.
Har-Hi looked through a viewing port and said, “It doesn’t look like a bad place to spend a few weeks. I am always fascinated by Union bases since we Dai do not have planetary facilities.”
Shaka was staring through the viewport on his side and said, “Does it not strike you odd, that there is not a single ship on any of those four landing fields?”
I did not see one either on my side and said, “It isn’t exactly a very busy part of space, or maybe they are underground.” I noticed that instead of the large robot arm often used to move landed transports to their final destination, we had landed on a big elevator platform and descended below the surface.
Shaka was not satisfied with this answer. “This is a Class B; there should be at least some of the ships of the assigned battlegroup or fleet. There wasn’t even a single ship in the dockyard.”
The shuttle pilot who had come from the flight deck, opening the back door and lowering the ramp, turned and said, “I was thinking the same thing; never seen a dockyard with not at least one ship being worked on, but then this is a quiet quadrant of space and a new base.”
We took our gear bags, and Hans shouldered the small container of additional gear we had taken along. We wished the pilot a safe return and went down to the surface.
A team of new-looking S-18 service robots approached the shuttle to refuel it as we stepped on a slide belt carrying us toward the spaceport buildings. This subsurface hangar was enormous, but no shuttle or transport other than the Devi shuttle was seen. More robots and a large surface cleaning machine cleaned the already spotless surface in the distance, but there was not a living soul anywhere. No load handlers, no technicians, nobody.
Shaka turned to Wetmouth. “Does that Fischer Index say what fleet is assigned to this base?”
She shook her head. “No military information is included, but I am checking Fleet Central, one moment.”
The sliding belt merged with a faster one and carried us into the main terminal. The usual shop signs and restaurants were all there, but most of them were dark or closed. Only a fully automated Swine and Dine seemed open. There was no one. The main terminal should have been busy.
Wetmouth said, “I just double checked, but as far as I can tell, no Fleet or battlegroup is assigned to this base.”
The sliding belt ended before the entry checkpoint that was not attended.
Mao dropped his bag and turned once around his axis. “Don’t tell me we are all alone here!”
“Maybe they are all hiding and do a big surprise thing. They only missed my hatchling survival day by seven days!” Krabbel responded.
Har-Hi’s hand went to the butt of his gun. “Someone is coming!”
A man on an Arti-G Scooter floated from across the concourse and stopped behind the entry control point and simply deactivated the entry denial fields and lowered the barrier.
He was a human commander and wore a Fleet uniform, but instead of boots, he wore slippers, and he was unshaven. He waved us to come in and said, “Sorry, guys, I expected you a few hours later, but welcome to Richter Base.”
I called my team to attention and said, “Ensign Olafson and team reporting as ordered, sir.” I held out our official order chip for him to take and inspect. He wiped his hands on the seat of his pants took the order chip and put it in his pocket. He didn’t look friendly or pleased to see us at all.
He said with a grumpy voice, “Here is the thing, ensigns; this is a completely obsolete and unnecessary base. You see, we are on the fringes of the Sagittarius Arm. There aren’t many star systems left around us, and then there is a wide void of fifteen hundred light years.”
I took the chance without him ordering so, and said to my team, “At ease.” To the commander, I then said, “Yes, sir, we have been briefed about the strategic location of the base.”
He snorted. “Splendid, then they also briefed you that the war never happened, that there are no settlers or colonists pushing into this region because there isn’t anything to colonize. Our sister station across the gap at Lyon Star had better luck. There are a few Nosirrah systems within reach, and they became the base for the 273rd Fleet. Here, the closest inhabited Union system is sixty-two light years away and only technically in our jurisdiction, but they have the Union Ranger Sector office there and never need us.” He raised his arms. “But Navy Regulations require a Class B Base to be staffed and so it is. It is a quiet and peaceful posting and those who are here like it that way, as there is absolutely nothing to do.
“Technically, we are supposed to provide quadrant security, but there are no Union assets in this quadrant, so the battleship that would be needed to do that was never assigned to us. The Wolfcraft fighters are still in parts in their original shipping crates, because we have not received the necessary personnel, namely Wolfcraft fighter pilots, and technicians.”
I already feared the answer when I asked, “What is it you want us to do then?”
He kept his arms in the air. “Do whatever you want; that’s what everyone else is doing here. I do have one order for you, though. Stay out of my hair. I like my peace and quiet, and I don’t want green-nosed, wet-behind-the-ears freshly graduated ensigns ask me every five minutes what to do. Any questions?”
Narth raised his hand. “This is a very unusual request, sir. I had no intentions to stay in your hair at all. It would prove a very uncomfortable place for me to stay. I also do not have a nose that is green, and I can assure you my ears or any area that could be designated to be behind them is not wet. Since I do not possess any of these qualities, does that mean that you do want me then to ask you what to do every five minutes?”
The commander blinked, completely baffled, and then said, “What is he, some kind of joker? Well, he must be, dressing up like a Narth.” He pointed his finger at Narth. “Listen Ensign Whoever You Are. I don’t care if you like to play Halloween every day. As far as I care, you can dance naked across the main concourse, but if you want to pretend to be a Narth, you should not make stupid jokes. I know of them; they do not make jokes. So, before you decide to make any more of those mindless remarks, let me tell you I’ve heard them all.”
Har-Hi actually stopped Narth from saying anything more by putting his hand over the area where he suspected its mouth to be and whispered, “We’ll explain later, just remain quiet for now.”
The commander returned to talking to us all. “As I said, stay out of my hair and do whatever you want. This is a fully functional base, and there are no waiting lists at all for the recreational facilities. Find yourself a place to stay. There is a five-star Hilton over there, no live s
ervice, of course, but it isn’t locked up. Then there are very exclusive Quarters for never-visiting admirals and foreign dignitaries on the top level of the Fleet Guest Accommodation Building over there. You could take the inter-base transport and go to Richter Town, a few thousand apartments, houses, and more hotels, all free for the taking.”
He climbed back on his scooter. “Here are my orders. Stay away from Command and Control. We got that covered. Stay away from Sublevels 17 and 18. They are still under construction, God knows why. I don’t want to write an accident report explaining why one of you got hurt by a tunneling robot. Other than that, the base is yours and what you do for the next few weeks until the regular replacements arrive is your business.”
With that, he started the scooter and simply left us behind.
Elfi said, “Pinch me. I must be dreaming or is this a joke?”
Narth reached out and pinched her, and she jumped. He said, “If I observe your state of consciousness correctly, I do not think you are dreaming. However, my understanding of humor is still not well developed, and I found his statements not amusing.”
Elfi rubbed her nicely shaped butt, and her eyes sparked as she turned to Narth. “Your understanding of metaphors also needs much work.”
Mao rubbed his chin. “I think Captain Harris knew exactly where he was sending us, maybe so we have a few weeks of some sort of vacation. My gut, however, tells me this isn’t going to be a vacation after all.”
Har-Hi shouldered his sizeable and heavy-looking bag and asked me, “So what do you want us to do?”
I said, “We set up a base of operations and get situated and unpacked. After that, Krabbel and Mao will organize dinner for 2000 hrs. Har-Hi, Cirruit, and Shaka will check the hangars and see what kind of spacecraft the base has. Maybe we can use one to explore the system a little. Narth and Wetmouth, you find a terminal and pull the mission statement of this base. They have to have a mission profile. Go over the recent station logs and see what they report to Fleet Command every day. Elfi, you make a list of the recreation facilities so we can include those in our daily routines. Hans, prepare an intel and security report for this quadrant. If it is as quiet and out of the way as everyone says it is, I think those on the Free Space side know that as well. I would also see what Fleet has to say about the Bitllors. If they are as primitive as claimed, someone might protect them.”
The Dai was shaking his head. “You do have a knack for this. I would have never thought of all this.”
I could actually tell now when Wetmouth smiled, despite her mask. She said, “He does indeed!”
We went to the Fleet visitor building. I did not want to use the hotel, as it felt like cheating to me. While we walked there, Narth and Wetmouth discussed the comments the commander had made, and she tried to explain to him what he meant with all the metaphors he had used.
Narth complained, “I have no desire to dance with or without garments and why would I want to pretend what I am already?”
Krabbel commented with his high voice, “I could dance naked, but I doubt this commander has much interest in Archa cultural performances.”
Cirruit boxed Krabbel in the side as we reached the Fleet building and said, “We are all going to see you dance soon enough. Over there is an automated Baskin Robbins store.”
Krabbel said, “What is so special about that?”
I turned with a grin and said, “They specialize in ice cream and have many flavors.”
He shrieked, excited, and we all laughed.
The quarters on the top level of the Fleet building tower were incredible, with huge viewports overlooking much of the base and the truly desolate and empty landscape. Luxury baths, state of the art Auto-Dressers, hygiene centers and Vari-Form beds with adjustable Arti-Grav, complete with Avatar-enabled GalNet terminals and Virtu-Experience Consoles. These quarters were meant as guest quarters for admirals, foreign dignitaries, ambassadors and the like. Everything had the feel of being brand new and never used.
After my friends had situated themselves, they all went to do the chores I had told them to do. I wondered if that sloppy commander was already reason enough to open the special orders I had received from the captain. How many posts and bases were there? Did the Army Engineers or Spacebees work on another project somewhere executing outdated orders and wasting resources? Was the Union Fleet too big to be run efficiently?
One thing was certain; we weren’t here by accident. We didn’t receive the orders to come here by someone who wanted to get rid of us. If Harris knew about these orders, then the admiral would, too, and the briefing we received would not have been necessary to simply send us on a base to have a vacation. No, I was convinced there was a reason they sent us here, beyond the obvious. At least some of the answers would be in the second order chip I carried in that secret skin pocket where I also kept my code key.
I sat behind the desk in the study of my luxury suite, turned the chair and looked past the floor to ceiling windows across the reddish stone and dust plain extending to the horizon. There was nothing out there, no craters, no large boulders or rock formations, just a seemingly endless ocean of dirt. The mountains we had seen from space were on the other side; I could not see from this vantage point.
A melodic sound issuing from the GalNet terminal made me turn; I had an incoming call.
It originated from the admiral, as I could tell from the message logo.
Stahl appeared, but he was not on the Devi but somewhere outside. He wore his full-dress uniform with his ribbon display on his chest and the duckbill cap with the admiral’s gold across the black shield. “Good afternoon, Ensign Olafson. I thought you would want to be present for the memorial service for Commander Orah Báct, here on Holda.”
I answered, “Yes, sir, I would like that very much.”
“Get into your dress uniform and join me via Avatar Telepresence.”
I used the Auto-Dresser and then stretched out on the Telepresence couch and allowed the system to connect to my neural interface.
The world around me changed and became fluid; for a short moment I lost orientation and floated in the GalNet Avatar TP-Nexus. My senses now told me I was standing and no longer lying down and then I walked through a portal opening before me and stepped onto a raised platform where Admiral Stahl and dozens of other high-ranking officers including Admiral McElligott were also present.
The platform was raised, overlooking a green valley with soft rolling hills and seemingly randomly placed trees. To the right rose a beautiful city with all-white buildings. To the left was a calm ocean that shimmered deep blue with the sun reflecting on it.
The park-like valley had neat rows of white spherical stone balls, of about fifty centimeters in diameter. There had to be thousands of them.
Stahl motioned me with a hand gesture to stand next to him and whispered, “This is the Valley of Memories on Holda. It is where the Holdians bury their distinguished dead.”
I whispered back, “There are so many.”
Stahl responded, “The Holdians have always suffered and went to many wars. Other civilizations often attacked simply because they think the Holdians are cute, little, and easy to conquer. Yet they are a tough and resilient race, maybe because of how they are perceived. They joined the Union only about ninety years ago before they were an independent Free Space civilization.”
I felt guilty as I, too, had made that assumption as I had seen her first, and considered her offer to help us fight in the brawl nothing more than wishful thinking. I, too, had looked at her as just an incredibly cute being and not as a Union Fleet officer.
The ceremony began, and it touched me deeper than I thought it would, seeing the little Holdians carry a small steel sphere with the Union Fleet logo on its side and place it inside a new stone ball. The opening was sealed with a matching plug and the Union Fleet hymn was played.
Admiral Stahl then delivered the eulogy, outlining her career and how he had noticed her. I learned then that she was one of the
midshipmen he had asked to command the Devi and that she did it to his complete satisfaction.
A Holdian with dark brown fur thanked the admiral and expressed how proud he was of his seventh daughter.
Admiral McElligott announced that Checkpoint 98 had been renamed Orah Báct and that a new carrier would also be named after her.
Stahl whispered, “She will be remembered.”
The ceremony was winding down, and I wanted to talk to the admiral about our current situation, but he said, “Not here, Ensign, and not now, but I have full confidence in you and your team. You will do the right thing.”
He made a gesture with his hand, first pointing with two fingers at his own eyes and then at me as if he wanted to say, I am watching you.
Aloud he said, “This Remote Presence Avatar technology still amazes me after all these years and how easy it is for others to be somewhere else, even looking completely different than they really do.”
I was certain there was a message for me, and all I could think was that he didn’t want to speak openly in this way with me.
So I said, “Thank you, sir, for letting me be present.” I saluted and told the system to sever the connection.
I found myself back on the couch on Richter 4.
Still deep in thought, I returned to the desk, just as Krabbel burst into the room all excited. “On top of this building is a five-star restaurant, and we have prepared dinner. I am telling you, the stasis freezers of the Hilton Hotel are stocked to the brim with every delicacy you can imagine. We won’t go hungry for sure!”
I handed him my Cred-Box and said, “You better pay for everything you guys take that is not Fleet.”
He took it and put it away. “I will do that right away, and I actually came to tell you dinner will be ready, and we have quite a few culinary surprises for you all. Mao is still up in the kitchen, and he is cooking himself!” With that, he scurried out again.
Eric Olafson Series Boxed Set: Books 1 - 7 Page 74
