“They do, sir?” I said. My voice squeaked into high registers. I shot a glance at Parsons who must have something to do with Podesta’s amazing change of direction. Parsons’s face was a blank slate. I returned my eyes to the admiral.
“Yes, confound it,” Podesta said, the words forced out between gritted teeth. “It turned out that the ship that landed on Smithereen to take on fuel was the flagship of the pirate fleet. On board that vessel, we found contraband cargo and information that will lead us to the other ships and more valuables that they have stolen. It could possibly be the undoing of a gang that has escaped Imperium justice for some time.”
“Oh!” A broad grin was doing its best to break out on my face, but I fought it bravely. “Then I am a hero?”
Podesta looked positively peevish. “If you absolutely must resort to a hackneyed phrase, yes.”
The grin overcame all obstacles and adorned my visage from ear to ear. “It was my duty to you and the Emperor, sir,” I assured him.
“If only that were so,” he said, with a sigh.
“Thank you, sir,” I said, with a crashing salute that reminded me I had a bruise on my forehead, among other places. Podesta returned it half-heartedly. I had to go back and update my Infogrid page. A commendation for heroism! Wait until my friends and relatives read about this! “Until then, do I return to my task in the records section, sir?”
“You have no further duties on this ship from now until we return to the Core Worlds,” he snapped. “Dismiss.”
“But, sir! I could do so much good in Lieutenant Wotun’s department. I have a marvelous idea for databases that will save pentabytes of memory . . .”
Podesta frowned thoughtfully, as if my suggestion had given him pause. “I have never had anyone who volunteered to be returned to Records.”
“I will wager that you have never had anyone of my caliber, Admiral,” I said.
Behind me, I could hear a very slight “Hem!” from Parsons. I chided myself for braggadocio.
Admiral Podesta sighed, the choleric hue fading from his complexion. “I would wager that you are right, Kinago. You will not return to Records. You may amuse yourself as you see fit over the coming weeks. I expect you to deport yourself as an officer and a gentlebeing. Do not let me see you at any time except for meals, and then I would prefer not to remark upon you in any way. Do I make myself clear?”
“As crystal, Admiral,” I said. Mother was going to be so angry. “I . . . I look forward to long and happy service with you, sir.”
The admiral did not seem to share my enthusiasm.
“Dismiss, Ensign!” Podesta snapped. He pointed at the Optique, which was hovering over my shoulder. I had had to capture the moment. “And take that thing with you!”
Hastily, I saluted and removed myself from his aegis. Parsons followed me.
We stepped into a lift. The doors slid shut, cutting off the remote possibility of anyone overhearing me. I appealed to Parsons.
“Parsons, find me some way to get back into the records department,” I said. “Once the admiral sees what I can do—he already knows I am capable of organizing a complex objective. I achieved a successful mission. I can do more. The servers would speed up enormously if only he allows me the chance! Doesn’t my commendation give him any cause to trust me?”
My distress did not elicit even a flicker of sympathy from my aide-de-camp. “It might, sir, but it will not. He cannot return you to Lieutenant Wotun’s department.”
“But why not?” I wailed.
“Two reasons, sir. One is that your commendation has removed you from punishment duty. You are no longer consigned to Lieutenant Wotun because you are no longer being punished.”
“Oh,” I said. I had not thought of it that way. “I suppose not. And the second?
“Because you were enjoying yourself,” Parsons intoned. “Punishment detail is not meant to be enjoyable. It is meant to promote a sense of regret based upon tedious repetition of a task, removing you from a sense of useful function.”
“I could lie,” I offered hopefully. “I could tell the admiral I didn’t enjoy myself. I suffered countless hours of boredom and impatience.”
Parsons raised one eyebrow a precise centimeter. “You would lie to your admiral?”
“Without hesitation,” I said. “There are things that one should keep from the attention of an authority figure for its own good. Weren’t you ever a small boy?” I eyed him. “I suppose you never were a small boy. Or a teenager, who did not care to fully enlighten one of the parental units as to your day’s activities? In retrospect, most of which I refused to divulge was as banal and foolish as any of my official duties, but . . .”
“That is not the point, sir. As a result of your heroics, you are relieved of punishment. All the admiral wishes is for you to remain a neutral element until our return to port.”
“I could be useful,” I protested. “I had some valuable concepts on streamlining deletion and data storage! I wanted to propose a library database of anecdotes and humor. It would save countless bytes if all one had to do was refer a colleague to the appropriate file in a common repository.”
“You may propose it formally to the admiral, but it would almost certainly not be undertaken,” Parsons pointed out, “as such frivolities are not the purpose of a warship on assignment.”
“One can never dismiss the cheerful grease that oils the joints of social machinery, Parsons,” I said severely. “Living beings still staff these warships, and as I have seen, they have a remarkable collective sense of humor. If you had only read some of those stories . . . !”
“You will simply have to wait until your newfound friends begin to send them to you,” Parsons said. “I must surmise that after your mission, as it was remarkably successful, you will begin to acquire many admirers.”
“That’s true,” I mused, swaggering toward my cabin. “All I will have to do is wait for the bounty to roll in.”
And roll in it did. I was hard-pressed to keep up with it. When we made orbit around Keinolt, prime planet of the Imperium, my personal recorder was fit to explode with all the fantastic humor I had saved. I would be the envy of my peers.
Now that the mission was over, and my scout ship was no longer a secret, I led tours for my fellow ensigns when they were off duty. Naturally, they were envious.
“And what called?” Redius asked.
“You see, CK-M945B,” I said.
He gave me an odd, sideways look. “Unusual, that, attached to you. Name not given?”
“You are right,” I said with a sigh. “If it was mine I would have named it. But who knows if I shall have the privilege again of captaining her.”
I gave the CK-M945B a last, affectionate pat. I imagined that it rose up to meet my palm as if it was an affectionate cat. The small ship, looking as pristine as the moment I had first seen it, was taken in hand by the flight deck crew, and rolled into lockdown position to secure it when the Wedjet left ultra-drive. I wondered if it would still be waiting here for me when I embarked after our shore leave was ended. Parsons, naturally, had given no clue as to my future duties. I shed my suit, cleaned up and put on my dress uniform, and made my way back to my quarters to await debarkation orders.
As the admiral had commanded, I had no official functions, so I was free to disport myself as I saw fit. I organized a massive tri-tennis tournament that began among my fellow ensigns but had to be expanded to include dozens of other officers who heard about it and wanted to be included in the fun. I was delighted to oblige. I partnered with several shipmates, including a weapons specialist named Bek, whose name rang a bell I could not locate in my memory. He wasn’t much for clever badinage, but he could play incredibly well. We pipped Rous and the luscious Lt. Alianthus by one point, but ended up losing to a team from Life Support. It was incredible fun, and I was sorry to have it end. After shore leave, I would certainly be given another assignment, one that would not leave me with so much free time.
I lef
t the suggestion for a common database with the dour Lt. Wotun, and hoped for the best. I gave her and my fellow ensigns my Infogrid information. I truly hoped that they would stay in touch during our break, and after I finished my deployment. If I had learned anything on board the Wedjet, it was that common folk weren’t.
Chapter 19
“Meet us at the Rook Inn in Chess Street, Straumsburg, next Fritsday evening,” Anstruther said, as we stumbled out of the landing craft and into the brilliant sunshine of Oromgeld, spaceport for Taino, capital city of the Imperium and my home town. She looked at us anxiously, her eyes resting last on me. “Everyone, let’s try and make it?”
“I’ll be there,” I promised. She gave me a shy smile. The expression became her. I had come to feel protective of her over the last few months, almost as a protégé, though she would never successfully tell a joke in public. I despaired of ever drawing out that kind of talent in her. She had proved to be a demon jai-alai player. When I had organized a doubles event I had scooped her up as my partner. We had won, almost too easily. The poker tournament had not been as lucrative (Redius had taken the grand prize, fifty rations of beer supplied by me), but I believe that it forged more sturdily the bonds of friendship that had been growing among us.
Our trip back to the Core Worlds had been most enjoyable, if it were not for the ineffable sensation that I was not being of enough real use to the Red Fleet. True to his word, Podesta had never given me another assignment. Perhaps he was waiting to talk to my mother, a proposition that filled me with dread.
I stopped to draw in a deep breath of the rich, dry air. Even with the spicy flavor of burned ions from the shuttle’s drive, it tasted better to me than a good wine. The sky was a wonderful blue, equaled nowhere else in the universe for sheer magic and depth of color. Against it, the cream, rust and moss green of the rocky landscape of my home province stood out in sharp relief like an island upon the face of the sea. My heart filled with an overwhelming affection for every protruding rock, every spire. I wanted to grab all of my crewmates and point out each beautiful landmark, but I felt they would not appreciate my enthusiasm. Better to let them discover it for themselves.
“Going windskiing on the frost plains at the south pole,” Xinu said, “but I will try to rendezvous.”
“Staying in Straumsburg, so simplicity,” said Redius, flicking his tongue over his lipless mouth. “A pleasure.”
“What will you be doing?” I asked him.
“Collecting, I,” he said, cocking his head. “Pottery miniatures I enjoy. Activities, yours?”
“Seeing my relatives,” I said. “Inescapable, really.”
“Your mother?” asked Nesbitt, grinning.
“Sympathies,” said Redius, ducking his head. “Why not just find mate of your own, you?”
“Bite your tongue,” I chided him, as that appendage flickered to show amusement. “Safe journeying, and I shall see you in Straumsburg.”
“Hey,” Nesbitt said, his voice rough. He pressed a small object into my hand. “This is for you.”
I surveyed the small data crystal. “What is it?”
“A download of my best anecdotes. You earned it.”
A smile burst out of containment and spread itself across my face. “Nesbitt, you are a true friend, and the first drinks will be on me.” He grinned back almost as shyly as Anstruther had. I pocketed the crystal next to my camera gear. I would treasure it. I foresaw far fewer dreary family events, with the comic ammunition that I had amassed.
The container of our belongings disgorged itself from the rear third of the shuttle. Its heavy doors clanked and spread open. I whistled, and my three cases reared up from the revealed mass within. I beckoned. Obediently, the bags glided along on their antigravity pads until they were within a meter of the sensor I held. I checked over each one. They had been made of the finest Cartelian dou-hide, nearly indestructible but butter smooth to the touch, dyed my favorite ultramarine. The hardware was a brilliant silver alloy that couldn’t be scratched without a titanium drill, and contained the best security ware available. They had been opened once each since I had sealed them. I was glad to see that safety protocols were being maintained. This was the Imperium’s capital city, and I would not be the one who carried in the object that would endanger it.
Anstruther, her possessions as modest as her personality, shouldered a simple white bag and headed toward the public transportation station. My tablemates assumed their own baggage and followed her. I had the urge to join them, so we could talk again and again about our experiences together, but there were so many people I had not seen in months. We had apprehended pirates—pirates! It was us against them, and we won, we brave citizen-soldiers of the Imperium. I rehearsed in my mind exactly how I would retell the story to my friends. I couldn’t wait to see them.
“Are you ready to go, sir?” Parsons had appeared at my elbow with the silent grace of which only he and servobots with antigravity pads were capable. I glanced around.
“Yes, I am . . . wait!” I spotted another familiar face. “There’s Bek! Give me a moment, Parsons. Bek! You remember him, Parsons. He and I played tri-tennis several rest periods. He was a star in the games I organized two weeks ago. He’s got an amazing backhand.”
I waved my arm. At the foot of the landing craft, Third-class Specialist Bek was debarking, a small mulberry-colored case hanging from a strap on his shoulder. A couple of big human males in deliberately self-effacing uniforms and dark-visored helmets joined him. I didn’t recognize their shoulder markings. One man relieved him of the case but Bek didn’t seem to be grateful for the assistance. There must be some misunderstanding. I thought that perhaps I could straighten out the situation for him.
Before I could take a step in his direction, Parsons took my arm firmly.
“Don’t do that, sir,” he said.
I frowned. “Why not? He’s new here. I should tell him about a few choice clubs and the best tour to take of the Imperial Compound.”
Parsons’s face was impassive, but I thought I detected a modicum of sympathy. “Because he is going to the brig, sir.”
“Brig?” I was dumbfounded. “Bek? Why?”
“Because he is a spy, sir. You detected him yourself from the files in the records department. Do you not remember?”
“I did?” I peered back at the man, realizing that I did recognize him, and not just from our games together. In my mind I also saw his Infogrid picture. “He was the weapons maintainer-complainer,” I said automatically. “I was thinking of asking him to play in my team of the Kinago Cousins Invitational week after next. I never put the man together with the file containing those messages. He’s really a spy? You’re not mistaking him for someone else?”
Parsons raised an eyebrow, and I felt abashed even suggesting that he could make a mistake. “No, sir. He was transmitting top-secret information to drone buoys along the ship’s sublight path. They were redirected through several data portals to false accounts. Until you indicated a suspicion of his perfidy, no one had connected the source of the leak to the Wedjet. It was originally believed to be coming from a repair facility where the weapons systems were installed.”
“Well, I didn’t have a suspicion, precisely,” I said, watching with horror as the men in plain suits clamped Bek into a hovering secure-chair pod. They mounted zipcycles, and guided the pod with them off the landing field. In all the times I’d been arrested on minor charges, they had never locked me into a pod. Those were employed only for the most dangerous of suspects. “I did think he was being a trifle incautious. That was all.”
“Well, I will be dipped in batter and deep-fried with horseradish,” I said. I was horrified that anyone could have deliberately betrayed the Imperium. I mean, my cousin was emperor! “But why?”
“That is not yet known,” Parsons said. “You are certain that you did not make his acquaintance because of your observation of his messages?”
“Not on purpose,” I said, thoughtfully. “I t
ook Lieutenant Wotun’s admonishments to heart, I promise you. I just saw that he was a strong player. I never meant to make use of the Infogrid files. I was curious.”
“Whether purposeful or not, your curiosity will have saved many lives,” Parsons said.
His reassurance did not do much to quiet the turmoil that began raging in my gut. When we captured the pirate crew I had enjoyed having been involved in a great game that resulted in the apprehension of known felons. Beyond the fear and danger, it had been a lark. The criminals we—truthfully, the spacebees who had performed the actual capture—had taken were strangers, and had behaved just like criminals in the videos did. That was satisfying. It felt right. This situation was horribly wrong, no matter how many ill-considered messages I read. A man whom I had sought out to befriend turned out to be a traitor. I would never have known to look at or listen to him. Villainy came in many guises. It struck me to the core. I had never had to consider anything in that light before. It overwhelmed the calculating functions of my cerebral cortex. It wasn’t a game. Parsons gave me an odd look, as close to sympathy as I had ever seen him offer me.
“You couldn’t have known, sir. He fooled a great many people. Be confident that you have prevented any further damage he could have done.”
“I appreciate the effort, Parsons,” I said, sadly, “but it honestly doesn’t help.”
In a contemplative stage, I walked away from the landing zone without looking back.
* * *
“I will leave you here, sir,” Parsons said at the high bronze gates to the family homestead after I had submitted my face and both my hands for scrutiny by the scanners for identification. The small, black-shelled skimmer we had flown from the spaceport hovered behind us.
“Aren’t you going to come in and greet the maternal unit?” I asked, shaking my right hand in pain. The phlebotomy needle in the right middle finger indentation was blunt and hurt more than it should have. The household computer was overloaded again. I would have to check on its program myself. No one else ever seemed to care if it mauled them. On the good side, the system would send verification of my return to all the computers in the Imperial Compound, and I wouldn’t have to go through full identification again, not until I had absented myself for a period of time. “I am sure she would like to congratulate you for bringing the prodigal son back in one piece. Come on. We have some of that great Aurencian wine, ’030, that brought the Emperor himself to his feet in admiration. I would be pleased to break out a bottle to celebrate our return. Mother would insist.”
The View from the Imperium Page 25
