by Jim Rudnick
Tanner thought on that for a moment and then offered up his advice.
"Never forget that the Science officer is your hidden ace in the hole—that kind of officer can be of great help and especially if we have no idea what kind of FTL these Enkians might have but are not using. So keep that in mind. Also, sounds like they have no Ansible—else they'd have contacted us that way. Keep that hidden—no sense in giving up any kind of an edge, and the Ansible just might be a great chip to play sometime in our future. Best items I've got right now, XO ..."
He was sure that the Ansible, if unknown, would be a great negotiating chip. To make communication real-time was a boon to any society or planet. Better left fallow for reaping later.
He nodded once more and said, "And our Captains Council project?" and made sure the twosome saw he meant to speak guardedly.
"Ah, yes ... in a stroke of real smartness, our CWO Hartford was seconded off the Atlas to head the discovery team. Seems that his attention to detail, the fact that he's from Tarvos, and has those two thumbs gave him a real edge, and we hear he's doing well. Well—not to say there's any scuttlebutt at all, Captain, but that when we meet, he indicates that things are well in hand. We're going to get this done and get it to market or whatever lies ahead, Sir," Kondo said and even though much was left unstated, Tanner still got the message. All was in hand. And there had been some advancements. And CWO Hartford was still on the job.
"All good to know, thanks for that," he said and the rest of the conversation was on everything from Lieutenant Cooper's fondness for Garnuthian pulled pork sandwiches to the cataloging of newly found stores of more biosensor sacks down in the hold. All news any captain would enjoy and all news Tanner enjoyed fully.
I miss that chair. And maybe after the full ninety days are done and my penance done—I'll sit there again.
"Sir, one thing?" Bram said quietly. "The Lady wanted me to just pass along that she hopes you are doing okay—and that she hopes to see you back on the Atlas very, very soon. And in all honesty, Sir—I really think she meant every word of it, Sir," he said.
Tanner smiled and thought how it figured she'd have used Bram to pass that along; if it came from an Issian, it could only be true.
I hate to say it, but I think I actually miss seeing that smile of hers ...
####
"You shouldn't," Lieutenant Irving said, sounding only half-sure of herself.
Nathan pulled his arm out of her grasp and slid the hundred-dollar credit note over to the clerk behind the counter, and she didn't even look at Nancy for permission. The one who had the money was the only one who counted at the Caliphate gambling kiosk, and she inserted the note into the slot on her machine. Nathan punched in his seven numbers so quickly that his date didn't even see them, and the machine locked and the whirling top began to spin.
Round and round it went, not that the motion had anything to do with the actual choosing of the winning string of numbers—but that was all a part of the fun, Nathan said. Round and round and Nancy jumped up and down a couple of times in excitement.
"That's like way, way too much money to spend," she said, "but I love it—hope you win," she squealed, her green eyes bright and her smile broad. Since it was their day off, Nancy and Nathan were in civvies, and they had shuttled over to the Neres Station.
They'd shopped all over the mall, and Nathan had bought her a very nice lunch too. They'd taken in the big Planetarium show in the theater. Seeing all the various planets, systems, and nebulae that were so far, far away was a good thing for them both. She had commented that the beauty of other places, like some of the sights they'd seen, was astonishing—yet there were similar places right here on the RIM. She'd seen nebulae that were just as stunning. Then there was DenKoss, the water world, and Eons, the desert world, and many, many more that were just as beautiful too. They'd argued, but with respect, about the various worlds they saw and finally agreed the RIM was the place to be for them.
Still round and round the colored wheel spun, but it slowed and then clicked to a halt.
"And the numbers are—"
"We win, we win," Nathan yelled as he saw the big numbers displayed on the monitor below the colored wheel.
He began to do a little jig right there in the shopping mall lobby. He grabbed Nancy and twirled her around, and they were both laughing and yelling.
They had won and won large as a gambler would say—which was what Nathan said over and over.
The clerk behind the kiosk punched in some items and then asked for Nathan's ID card, which he handed over gladly.
The machine clicked and then there was a soft alarm sound from the kiosk. The clerk read the screen that only she could see and shrugged.
"Sir, it appears that the funds that you just won were all applied to your account—there is a number though that I can Ansible for you if you need—"
Nathan waved his hands at the clerk and said, "fine, that's fine ... I understand, and not a problem." He smiled and swept Nancy up in both arms, moving away from the kiosk.
He smiled. This date had been great, and he suddenly leaned forward to kiss her—strongly and deeply.
She returned that kiss and then gave him back one of her own, and they stopped and stared at each other.
"I-I don't know why that just happened—" he said
But she interrupted him and held a finger to his lips to stop him from talking.
"It was wonderful and it was time and it was ... beautiful too! Winning was fun too but—" she said with a mischievous smile on her face as he kissed her on the lips and she took him into her arms once more for a big, big hug.
The clerk looked at them as if they were both crazy, and they grinned at her and strolled off arm in arm.
Nancy tucked her head into his shoulder for a moment and then stopped and glanced up at a shuttle monitor to see the schedule, and she pointed up at the display.
"Shuttle back to the Hospital Ship leaves in twenty-five minutes, so we should hustle over to the gate," she said and she pulled him along.
They chatted about all kinds of things on the way. She talked about her ears, how she was gaining back her hearing, and the diagnosis was excellent. If all went well, she'd be released in about a month or so, which brought the conversation to a halt. They stopped and faced each other holding hands.
"We will leave here, Nathan—I'm a navy lieutenant and will travel with the Atlas wherever she goes," she said with calmness.
He looked at her and smiled.
"And I'm a Research Scientist, barely, but I did make the grade. And that means that I can work on any research project anywhere I can be accepted as a team member. Right now, as you know, I'm here on the ship over at the Barony labs. And we're getting close—I'd suspect that we'll have our vaccine in not more than a couple of months at the most. And that means that once that team is disbanded, I can go anywhere in the Barony—or elsewhere on the RIM to work too. Which means that for us, we can maintain a relationship once we leave the Hospital Ship. Right?" he said and his face was one of looking for confirmation.
"We can certainly continue to date, to have fun, and yes, even perhaps more," she said softly, "but I am and will always be a Navy girl, Nathan. Is that okay? That if we end up together, that I would leave for duty for months at a time to come home on furlough not as often as you might like. Would that be okay with you?" she said once more, and he heard the question and knew what the answer would be too.
He nodded. "Yes, my Nancy ... I hear you ... my lieutenant!" he said and his smile was broad and spoke of what might lie ahead.
####
The sun was bright today, as he walked slowly down the long central corridor of the tent enclave. Every forty feet, an opening above him shone bright, bright yellow with the afternoon sun that made the temperature even hotter here. The brown walls were hung every so often with folk art. For the life of him, he just couldn't like the art and that the reason was beyond him. This one, for example, as he stopped in front of a sma
ll statue that was made of—well, he had no idea what it was made from except that it was jet black. It was of a moon perhaps, rising over a larger planet below, and the moon was held by a naked woman who had body proportions that were way too short and way too thin to be a citizen of the Caliphate. Her eyes were closed he noted as he stooped to peer at the female face, and the hair was so long—real hair, perhaps horse or oved hair, but dyed light blue and it draped the woman's body. But what did it mean? Who was she? What was she doing just holding the little moon up in one single hand? Art was for others, the government of the realm was what he enjoyed, and yes, especially his citizens.
He sighed and continued on. He passed by sand brown tent walls, sunlight patches, and the art too.
Ahead though, he could see his destination—the family area where he actually lived.
He hoped—as he was saluted by a Ramat guardsman who opened up the final flap—that it was.
The tent was cool and that meant the recent air conditioning services he'd requested had actually been done and done well.
Not a problem. Then I won't have the man's family put out on the desert. Not this week anyways, the Caliph thought as he sat even deeper in his favorite chair and nestled down comfortably. There were more than a hundred various sections of the Caliphate tent that was the Royal enclave, and it stretched more than three hundred yards on a side. Guards and the Ramat patrolled, and it was the true spot where the head of state—the Caliph—lived and did his governing of the realm.
The fact that he was deep inside the Royal tent, in fact past the areas where the public had access too, was not a big deal to him—the fact that his wives were there in the room was. Some smiled at him every time he glanced their way; others played harder to get by ignoring him. With more than fifty women in the tent, he wanted quiet and that was all. But like all things, what he wanted was not what was happening, which was the current state of affairs.
He knew the visitor would be understandably leery when they came in the tent flap, but that was exactly how he wanted the man—anxious and ready to please.
He nodded over to one wife. He thought her name was Nadia, and he smiled directly at her and then nodded to the seat beside him. With his attention on her, she slowly stood and walked toward him. She wore an ocher-colored half-robe with leggings that were mauve and swirled with the same ocher shade. Her hair was in some kind of an updo, which made her even taller, and wearing high heels, she towered over the other wives as she strode over to the chair and took her seat, smiling at him.
Nadia. I'm pretty sure it's Nadia ... but then there is always a way to find that out for a Caliph.
"I will be having a visitor in a few minutes, and I want to introduce you—what would you like me to say, dear?" he asked.
She nodded and didn't answer immediately. He now remembered she was one who would think before ever answering a direct question.
"My Caliph, as one of your wives, a simple 'Nadia, Lioness of the Harem, Ruler of the Household' would be more than sufficient ..." She smiled.
He nodded. Nadia it was. With more than fifty wives, the names often escaped him, but the woman seldom was a stranger. He'd have to remember to let her know later to come to his tent tonight, if he felt like it later. She was pretty.
"Caliph, please excuse my interruption—but we have found the man you seek. He awaits without, Caliph," the Ramat colonel said as he stood at attention before his lord and master.
Dressed in the soft buttery browns of the Ramat with the very polished indigo blue boots and the jet black hair, the colonel didn't look either left or right. This was the most private of areas in the Royal tents, and he was there for the first time ever. He was frozen in time and awaited even a simple nod from the Caliph.
But the Caliph waited and thought for a moment. It had taken the Ramat almost four days to find the man. Four days and yet the Ramat was the power behind the throne here in the Caliphate, and that bothered him to a lesser degree. Four days? He'd have to do something about that and promised himself he'd have to talk to his cousin who was the Nerian in charge of the force to find out more.
"Bring him in, Colonel, and that means now," he said quite flatly.
A tall but very thin Nerian shuffled into the tent, his legs hobbled with chain shackles.
He stood tall at six feet eight inches, yet his weight couldn't have even been 150 pounds. He was poorly dressed, and the Caliph noted his robe had been torn and was discolored with stains and his boots were thin and worn and in need of replacement. He was not what anyone would call a stellar example of a Nerian citizen—but then that was the crux of the matter this evening.
"Your name," the Caliph asked politely.
"My name is Jocko, my Caliph, Jocko al-Aziz," he said as he bowed his head deeply.
The Caliph nodded.
"Ahh ... al-Aziz, the esteemed one. So, are you esteemed now, Jocko?" he said dryly.
The man thought for a moment and then partly smiled.
"If the Caliph would know, my father was definitely an esteemed miner over on Nerian Prime. And I inherited his name, Caliph—so while it is my name, the honor goes to my father," he said softly.
The Caliph nodded once more and then leaned forward to take a date off the tray on the hassock in front of him. He slowly bit off a piece, chewed it slowly, and then popped the rest into his mouth. Turning to the woman at his side, he pointed at her with his chin.
"Meet one of my wives, Jocko—this is Nadia and I'm sure she is important, but I've no idea why that might be." He smiled at his wife who simply smiled back at him, her eyes hooded, and the smile looked like it was painted on.
Jocko bowed his head to her, and his face betrayed no emotion at all, unlike the woman who was sitting and seething but unable to do or say anything.
The Caliph sat back in his chair, put one foot up on the edge of the hassock in front of him, and nodded to the man.
"Jocko, I remember just three short years ago when you were the Caliphate's hope to win the VacJump Games—and yet you lost. You lost to a simpleton who outlasted you by almost thirty more seconds out in the vacuum of space—and by losing, the Caliphate lost too. We win usually with our VacJump champions and yet you lost. You lost and you lost your chance to become a full Nerian citizen; you were banished back to Neria Prime to work once again in the mines. And yet here you are. Would you like to know why your Caliph has called on you, Jocko?" His voice was smooth and his demeanor was still Royal, but he was trying to sell something, and he knew how to do that.
Jocko nodded—then vocalized his need to know.
"Caliph, yes, I should very much like to know why you have called on me—and you have my word, Caliph, that I will not fail the Caliphate again. Never!" he said forcefully and his eyes blazed. The shackles around his ankles clinked as he stood up even straighter, and the Caliph could see the man was ready to accept a mission for the Caliphate.
He talked for almost a full half hour. He explained what the mission was and who would be involved, and he left out nothing. The man must know not only what was expected of him but the why behind that need. He had to learn what the success would be for the Caliphate, and he had to know what that would mean for their future—the combined future of the billions of Caliphate citizens.
"And, if you are successful, Jocko—I personally will make you a full Nerian citizen. You will leave Nerian Prime, that desolate mining planet, and come here to Neria and be a citizen of the Caliphate, instead of an indentured miner. My promise to you if you succeed. Is this of interest to you, Jocko?"
The man was bouncing from one leg to the other, the shackles clinking loudly. He nodded and his hands met in a praying form and his head nodded over and over.
"Sire—Caliph—I will not fail. I know what is expected of me and I will not fail. The prize is yours, Caliph ..." he said and he meant it, the Caliph could tell.
He nodded.
"Then, Jocko, time to get you in shape and back into training—Colonel, refresh my memory
—what are our VacJump Games?" he said as he reached for another date and took his time choosing which to eat next.
"My Caliph, the VacJump Games are held at the Casino Station up in orbit once a year. There are different classes and yet all the same really. Each contestant jumps out through the force field into the depths of space, with no spacesuit. They do have an instant recall switch, but they never seem to use it; instead they float in the vacuum of space 'til they can't last anymore and then they're retrieved. But the one that lasts the longest is the winner. And I remember Jocko, my Caliph, who lasted I believe more than a minute and some, before he gave in. The winner we've never seen again; but this is the Jocko who won more than a half dozen of the monthly contests only to lose in the annual VacJump Games," he finished off and the Caliph was satisfied.
"So we all know about you and your past, Jocko—what we need to ensure is your future. Your mission on the Barony Hospital Ship will lead you to Neria, if you are successful, correct, Jocko?"
The man nodded and those shackles clinked even more.
A second chance might be the one that worked. If his cousin, the doctor over on the Hospital Ship, didn't come through, then Jocko might, he thought and nodded to his colonel.
"Then, Colonel, with that in mind, take Jocko and get him rooms here in the Royal tent. I want him bathed, re-clothed, fed, and sleeping within the next few hours. Tomorrow, assign him to our best VacJump Games trainer and get him back into training STAT. No issues, Colonel, or you'll take his place over on Neria Prime in the mines ... understood?
The colonel's face blanched, but he nodded and hustled Jocko out of the tent quickly.
Now, to consider my company for later this evening ...
CHAPTER SIX
Bland ... the whole place was so bland Tanner wanted to scream right out loud that the doctor needed to put up some posters or waterfalls from Randi or even a beer brand poster. Anything but the nothing to see brown-ness, but then he remembered his psychiatrist was waiting for an answer to his question.
