Enemy of my Enemy (Horatio Logan Chronicles Book 1)

by Chris Hechtl

  “Yes, sir. So, to continue the tour ….”

  They moved from the sims to the rows of classrooms. The classes were intermixed with the different specialties, but the Neogorilla pointed out two of them that taught helm and navigational theory. They peeked through the window built into the door. The cadets were attentive, listening to the lecture in small college amphitheater arrangement. They freely asked questions from time to time. When the class started to take notice that they were under observation, Horatio took a step back. After a moment, the other officers did as well.

  “I see the class, but I only see a handful of Picians and other water dwellers. Do many of them wash out? I'd think you'd do everything you could at this point to retain them,” Horatio asked.

  “We do, sir. But we can't be perfect,” Lieutenant Brinkly admitted. “Most of the Selkie are from Agnosta. Apparently, they came because of the stories Deja told them and because they wanted more than a hand-to-mouth existence. All of them are young, so they fall under the adventure-seeking type. Unfortunately, the Selkie on Agnosta have little training beyond verbal and … well, hunting and gathering I understand,” the Neogorilla said hurriedly.

  “I see,” Horatio murmured.

  “I don't. Why such a Spartan existence? It can't be by choice, can it?” Lieutenant Si asked.

  “No, ma'am. Not really. I don't know specifics though. Living by the sea is rough. There are predators in the water, and you are subject to the whims of the sea, just as a spacer is subject to the whims of space. I don't know if they trade with other communities and how much,” she shrugged. “From the little I've picked up, they tended to keep to themselves for a long time. It was only recently that they've been interacted with on a regular basis. I think an anthropology student team that went there did a paper and equated them to the Terran Inuit,” she said with a grimace. “That's not a disservice, sir, just an observation.”

  “For someone who doesn't know the whole story, you have picked up a few tidbits,” Horatio observed.

  The Neogorilla chuffed. “I get a few nuggets from the kids now and again. They are good kids.”

  “Good to know,” Horatio said with a nod.

  “Part of the … recent activities on Agnosta have started to make a cultural impact. That has helped to some degree. The access to modern medicine for one. Usually if someone couldn't be helped by their healer shaman, they died.”

  “Not a pretty picture you are painting, Lieutenant,” Admiral Zek said.

  “Sorry, sir. It's how it is.”

  “I know. Thank you for not sugar coating it,” the admiral stated. The Neogorilla nodded.

  “The water dwellers from ET are better off. Apparently, up until a short while ago their leaders invested heavily in education and medicine. A lot of them preferred to work on the planet though, usually in the fishing or industrial fleet.”

  “But not all obviously,” Lieutenant Si observed.

  “No, ma'am. But it's harder for them to get here, which is an issue we're hoping will get resolved soon,” the Neogorilla said. When Lieutenant Si's eyebrows rose, she grimaced. “The selkies from Agnosta have a higher retention rate than the other water dwellers because they adapted better. It's also a shorter hop from there to here,” she explained. The trio nodded. “The Picians have to take whatever shipping to get here that they can, and they need some additional life support to be comfortable let alone survive. Not all ships can afford that. I understand there are a couple dozen people who want to sign up but can't get here to undergo the training.”

  “Which is the part you said that needs work on,” Horatio said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “About the selkie,” she said, indicating the two seals in the freshman class. The trio peeked into the room again and then looked at her. “Some washed out due to medical reasons no matter what we tried to do to retain them. Many had very poor to almost nonexistent education in their past as I mentioned. Some of the problems are also psychological. It's one thing to dream of going to space. It's when reality smacks you in the face and you get home sick and you're in an alien culture …,” she waved a massive hand helplessly. “Which is a problem. Sleep teaching can only get you so far. You have to have something, a foundation to work from.”

  Admiral Zekowitz shot a significant look at Lieutenant Si and Horatio. It washed off Horatio since he hadn't been looking in the admiral's direction. Lieutenant Si noted it but then pretended to not see it. Finally, he grunted. “I see. But you accelerated it anyway.”

  “Yes, sir. Not my choice actually. They are taking secondary courses outside the academy to make up the difference,” Lieutenant Brinkly explained.

  “Ah, I see.”

  “Commander Farook is our best teacher of helm and navigational theory. He gets to know each of the students in their first year and nurses them through the rough spot until they are firmly on their feet somehow. He's a dedicated and conscientious officer. If he wasn't so busy doing all that and teaching, he'd have my job,” the gorilla stated.

  “I see,” Horatio murmured.

  He did see. He also saw why Lieutenant Commander Farook was an effective teacher. He truly cared about his students, like the lieutenant said; he probably knew all of them on a first-name basis—their troubles, their trials, and their victories, however small. Who slept with who … he was probably well tapped into the academy grapevine.

  He was also flexible. That was important. He was an able administrator but a gifted teacher. Sometimes those two were not combined in a single body. He made a note to mention that to others when he had the chance.

  “It's a pity that the commander is due to be rotated back to shipboard assignment next semester. But he's looking forward to it,” the lieutenant stated.

  “Good for him.”

  “This way. The bell is about to ring, and we don't want to be crushed by the stampede,” the gorilla said. “I think we can set you up in the teacher's lounge for lunch, sirs, ma'am,” she said.

  “That'll work for me,” Zek said, eyeing Horatio. Horatio nodded. Zek turned to their guide. “Lead the way,” he said.

  “Aye aye, Admiral,” the Neogorilla said.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  They had a light but lively lunch with the staff. When they finished their fruit and sandwiches, Lieutenant Si and Admiral Zekowitz headed off with Lieutenant Brinkly to watch a sim. Most of the staff quietly left to return to their afternoon classes. Since Commander Farook had a quiet period to grade papers, he lingered in the room. When he was alone with the commander, Horatio cleared his throat and then questioned the man about the water dweller situation.

  “Lieutenant Brinkly told us one point of view, Commander. Since you are closer to the problem, perhaps you could shed some light on it as well,” Horatio stated. “They haven't stepped up in as many numbers as we'd hoped.”

  The chocolate-skinned commander frowned thoughtfully as he tapped his stylus against his bottom lip before he answered. “Technically, they don't know the offer exists. It's not like they have TV or radio in the middle of the ocean, sir. Some get the news word of mouth. And then they have to get over the idea of going into space.”

  “It's not as hard …”

  “For us maybe not. But for someone with gills? Who need the wet? Going to live on land let alone in a metal box flying through the sky?” The commander looked up. “It's a game changer for them, sir.”

  Horatio forced himself to see it from the described perspective. Hunter-gathers going from a hand-to-mouth existence. He'd seen it as a godsend, but he hadn't gamed it out completely, just seen it from a positive view. “Okay, yeah, I see that point,” Horatio conceded.

  “Most just want to live their lives and not be bothered by the external world. They live in the moment, sir. It is the only way to exist in the field it seems. They can't save worth a damn—not unless they salt and dry fish and seaweed. Many live in the sea full time and only come on shore to give birth.”

  “That's … not really livi
ng I guess.”

  “Your opinion, sir. They obviously see it differently,” the commander said almost caustically.

  “No, I mean hand to mouth … that'd suck.”

  “Again, your opinion, sir. Some like that. Not everyone has to fit a certain type of mold, nor should they,” the commander said, looking up with black accusing eyes.

  “Okay, I suppose that is true,” Horatio said with a grudging nod. He didn't like the commander's tone, but he understood the message. He also saw that the man was defending the students he taught. Perhaps he was getting a little too close to them? Perhaps getting rotated back might help him regain a detached perspective.

  “That they get preferential treatment is a sour point for some of the other students. We can't help it. But it gets worse now that they are in such high demand. There has been a backlash, a bit about coddling them. It's … caused some friction.”

  Horatio grimaced. “Lovely.”

  “Most of these are probably going to end up in the Harbor Station plan if it moves forward. Up until Bek was found, they were looking forward to tooling around in couriers or ansible carrying ships or the rare few getting a warship assignment. And therein is another problem.”

  Horatio frowned, clearly puzzled and mentally off balance. “Um …”

  “Remember what I said about molds, sir?” Horatio nodded. “Did you hear about Midshipwoman Qilaq, sir?”

  Horatio's frown deepened as he ran the name through his mind. The name didn't ring any bells at first. But the way he said it and the topic of conversation said she was a water dweller. He ran the name through his implants until he got a hit. Her bio came up along with her image. “No … wait, selkie, right? She was on Caroline,” he said. “Is on Caroline I should say.”

  “Yes. Not one of my students, remember that. Not really an academy student at all, she spent most of her time in the Anvil College I believe. She was in college training to be a navy doctor. She was convinced by her recruiter to go full academy over reservist to cut down on the cost. All well and good … right up until the brass activated her as a middy and threw her at Caroline as a helmsman with no training. They basically told her piss on your dream of becoming a doctor; we need you here.”

  Horatio scowled. “This is the navy, son; we go where we are needed.”

  “And yes, I see that. In theory I'm okay with it. But it isn't sitting well with some people. It's gotten back to some of the communities, and its impacted water dweller recruiting. A lie like that bites.”

  “Frack,” Horatio muttered as he suddenly caught on to the implications. “It's not like we put her career on complete hold. Just …”

  “Someone that young being told we don't give a shit what you want, you are going to do as you are told and be a slave …”

  “Wait, wait …”

  The commander waved his tablet. “I'm sorry, sir; it’s how they feel. It’s how others feel. They know it isn't right. But they also know there isn't anything anyone can do about it. So the resentment lingers and in some cases grows. I will admit there is a bit of sympathy there for them though.”

  “Frack. Does anyone else know about this?” Horatio demanded, thinking furiously.

  Commander Farook shrugged. “I'm sure it's been brought up. I just said it’s hit the water dweller communities, sir,” he reminded him.

  “Well, I'll bring it up before I leave, you can bet on that,” Horatio vowed. “We need them. And we need them happy and ready to do their job, not resenting it or the navy. It's not the black eye I'm worried about. Or not only that I suppose. It's the idea of someone being depressed, frustrated, and angry about being forced into …”

  “A mold,” Commander Farook supplied when Horatio faltered. “It sounds more civilized than slave.”

  “Right, a mold.” The older man grimaced. “Yes, I see there is a problem.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “But I don't know what to do about it. As I said, we need them—need hundreds of them.” He exhaled heavily. “Need them badly, damn it.”

  “Yes, sir. I know. Thousands really. They are needed everywhere, not just the Harbor program,” the commander replied. “They are critical for moving ansible cores. They make the entire process smoother and make it so more of the core is kept stable and it gets to the destination intact. The further we go out with them, the more we're going to need that ability,” he said. “Then there are the couriers … getting people and large amounts of data …”

  “You don't have to remind me. I get the picture,” Horatio growled.

  “Sorry, sir.”

  “I'll … do what I can. I don't know if I'll have much of an impact though.”

  “I know, sir. That's what is also causing some of the resentment.”

  “Lovely,” Horatio sighed.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  “That was an interesting tour,” Admiral Zekowitz said. “I'm not thrilled about the catering to the water dwellers, but I see they need different life support than the rest of us,” he admitted.

  “Yes, sir, that they do. And it sucks that they are living hand to mouth so it makes their training and medical investment all the more costly and time consuming,” Lieutenant Si said.

  “Yes, I know. The wash-out rate … I hope they charge the bastards who up and quit,” Zek growled.

  Lieutenant Si glanced at him sharply, then looked away.

  “They are a necessary evil I suppose,” Zek mused when his flag lieutenant didn't agree or disagree, just remained mute a shade too long for his tastes.

  “Yes, sir, I suppose so. If they weren't around, Caroline would never have gotten to us, nor would we be here now,” Lieutenant Si pointed out.

  “I know,” Zek replied, thinking of what little future he'd had left in Bek. His future career paths had been narrowing the higher he went up in rank. He'd had a tendency to open his mouth, and it had rubbed a few people the wrong way. Powerful people.

  He'd been passed over for promotion several times recently. The excuses had been flimsy at best. He hadn't resented it initially; he'd thought it was because some people thought he hadn't wanted to grow up and leave the hands-on world behind. Apparently, that hadn't been the complete story.

  He'd lacked patrons. He also had a tendency to rock the boat and shoot his mouth off at rather bad moments. He'd also slept with a few people in his youth—people with powerful connections who held grudges well past their expiration dates.

  The mission to go to the Federation had dropped in his lap like a gift from the heavens. He'd tried not to jump all over it, it was best to make his superiors think he was reluctant or cautious. But he'd been eager despite the inherent risk of traveling through the rapids.

  And it had paid off. He'd gotten some of his implants, half of his medical updates, the initial antigeriatric treatments, and a hell of an education crammed into him. He knew he wasn't finished; he still had one more major round to go, maybe two or three.

  But it was a good thing he reminded himself, not to mention key codes. He'd be the first flag officer to have them! He sometimes felt like his brain was ready to explode from the sleep teaching alone. The more he learned, the more he realized he was going to have to unlearn. A lifetime of education, some of it self-taught was going to have to be restructured within his own mind.

  He shuddered to think about how it would affect the rank and file in Bek's military establishment. He knew there was going to be resistance. Quite possibly heavy resistance he mused.

  “Sir?” Lieutenant Si asked softly. He snapped back to the here and now. He saw a hint of concern in her eyes. “I lost you. Were you in your implants? If you were I'm sorry,” she started to apologize.

  “No, no, I was wool gathering. Worrying about the future. I know Admiral Irons means well, but I don't think he fully realizes what we're getting into. And having Commodore Logan along …”

  Oprah's face worked. “I thought that was a stroke of genius, sir! He's overdue for a transfer, way overdue,” she pointed out. �
�And he's a natural engineer. He's a gift for the yard with his experience!”

  “Ah, but only if we're both used as such,” Zek observed. Quite frankly he had his doubts at the moment. He also wasn't too certain of Horatio's political acumen, and he wouldn't have any contacts in Bek, just Zek.

  Suddenly he didn't like the picture he'd just painted himself into. It didn't bode well for the future.

  “Sir?”

  “Never underestimate the perverse nature of those stubbornly clinging to the past, Lieutenant. And especially, never underestimate their ability to rewrite the rules, or in our case, the orders, when we get there.”

  Her face worked, but she didn't reply.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  “So, how did the tour go?” Admiral Subert asked as Horatio entered the lighter. The commodore glanced at him then went back to getting into his seat and buckling in.

  “Not bad, sir,” Horatio finally admitted. “We're on track?” he asked.

  “If you mean on schedule for today, yes,” Admiral Subert said. “As soon as we get going,” he said pointedly, looking at the open cockpit.

  “Aye aye, sir. We're waiting for a hole in the current traffic pattern,” the pilot replied. “Undocking now,” he said, closing the hatch behind them, and then checking the seals. “Seal integrity confirmed. Lighter one four four niner departure for industrial platform run,” he said out loud, but for the benefit of the craft's log and the radio channel he was broadcasting in.

  “Roger that, one four four niner,” Kalmia replied. “Your flight plan has been approved,” she stated.

  “Roger that,” the pilot stated. A spurt of OMS from the rear pods pushed the ship clear of the latches around the dock and out into the void. Lights swept her hull as she moved clear of the station. “Clearing the no-wake zone in two minutes,” he said over his shoulder to the two passengers.

  “Gotcha. We'll just chat and catch up on paperwork as usual,” Horatio said.

  The Neocat flicked his black ears. “Aye aye, sir,” he said. The regular milk run was dead easy for any pilot to perform. Technically, either officer could handle it themselves. Up until Admiral Subert had come on board, the commodore, then a captain, had done it himself as a way of getting stick time, though rumor had it that he tended to fall behind in paperwork at the same time. Many of the pilots were nervous about having such distinguished personages on board. For Bux it was just another day for him.