by Mark Rounds
Commonality Games
Mark Rounds
Copyright © Mark Rounds
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 9781977060846
DEDICATION
To my wife and family who put up with me.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’ll include on this list Colonel Hugh Shoults, USA and Lieutenant Colonel Donald Kaag, USA(ret) for knowledge about the military technical details. I would like to thank Lieutenant Kris Schweigert of the Washington State Highway Patrol for helping get all the police procedures correct. I would also like to acknowledge and thank Thia Kaag who edited my copy and chided me about commas, and Don Kaag who educated me about hyphens. Any mistakes are the fault of the author.
I would also like to thank my beta readers who helped make this a materially better book, Mike Finkbiner, Donald and Thia Kaag, Elizabeth and Austin Wilmerding, Sarah Silva, and my son, Garret Rounds. Austin also gets kudos for finding something that was lost and thought irretrievable.
I would like to also specifically thank my wife and children (who are no longer kids). So, thanks to Jani for computer support, Garret for knowledge about all things automotive, and Bethany for educating me in how not to write a sexist novel, and always to my wife for being softhearted and not telling me to get lost when we started dating.
Chapter I
"Corps of Cadets, Attention," rang out over the assembled classes of the Planetary Survey Academy.
More by luck than design, Taol Ubner was the Cadet Deputy Commander for Operations. That wasn’t too bad for a junior three days shy of twenty-one. Of course, a broken hip during field exercises had taken out the real DCO. His previous posting, Assistant Deputy Commander for Operations, was normally a junior's position and meant that poor unfortunate got all the dirty jobs at the staff meetings.
Taol was presiding over this formation in the absence of the Cadet Commander. He was away with a few of the top-rated seniors on a Public Relations visit to escort the finalists in a local beauty pageant, the lucky stiff.
Normally, they didn't have formations on Saturday, but today was different. Some bigwig from the Commonality Government wished to speak to the Corps. Luckily, he was human and not one of those aliens who styled themselves the Lords of the Commonality of Man. The aliens ruled from orbiting habitats and sent human quislings to do their bidding. They were not bad as overlords go, allowing mankind a certain amount of freedom and controlled growth. This Academy was proof of that. They also ushered humankind into the galactic trading community, which had enriched Terra considerably. They normally cared little for what individuals did so long as their relatively low taxes were paid. Sending an emissary to the Academy was a big event.
The Commandant of the Academy, Commodore Hong, was also here to speak. The old veteran was visibly shaken by the visitor. This was obviously no junket by a politician on holiday.
"Cadet Colonel Ubner, have the Corps of Cadets stand easy," said Commodore Hong. "Real" officers always made sure to mention the "Cadet" portion of the rank. As if someone might be confused into thinking that it was possible for an individual to be a full colonel at twenty-one. Still, he was not a bad sort, as commanders go.
"Corps of Cadets. Stand at ... Ease."
Obediently, the two thousand assembled cadets relaxed in ranks, waiting for what came next.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," began Commodore Hong. "A Mr. ‘Smith’ from the Government Labor Allocation Division wishes to speak with you."
It was clear Commodore Hong did not believe his name was ‘Smith’. It was also quite clear that he didn't approve of what was about to happen. With no further introduction, Commodore Hong left the rostrum and sat down.
"I have an official proclamation from the Lords of the Commonality of Man," said Mr. Smith in rather stentorian tones.
"I'll bet he asks you to pass the salt in the same way." Taol didn't have to look to know that his roomy, Jarl Estaban, was cutting up again.
Jarl was the son of a colonist from the Epsilon Eridani sector. Both of his parents were dead from an outbreak of a mutated influenza epidemic. He was raised, if that term applies, in a crèche here on Earth. He clawed his way out against overwhelming odds. The crèches are not known for creating great intellects.
The combination of his out-planet blood and crèche upbringing made him resentful of most authority. He would have been a senior this year if he had not built up such a large pile of demerits for insolence. Of course, failing matrix analysis didn't help either. He viewed the Academy as his only way back to the colony worlds which was why he stayed at all.
"The Lords have decided that mankind is expanding too fast for such a young race." continued Mr. Smith. "This expansion must be slowed. To that end, this facility will be closed effective immediately. All cadets in the classes of 2339, 2340, and 2341 will be surplussed. Selected cadets from the class of 2338 will be allowed to go on to active service. These cadets have already been selected and have already left the grounds."
In the shocked silence, the assembled cadets gasp was audible. The spell was broken when a freshman cadet let out a smothered sob. A hundred angry voices rose up clamoring for attention. In the middle of the noise was Taol’s roommate, Jarl Estaban.
"Mr. Smith," yelled Jarl. "What happens to us? Can we transfer to the Academy in Iceland?"
"No such transfers are possible." Smith turned impatiently to face Jarl and the rest of the cadet staff. "That facility is already full. It will become the only source of graduates in this field for some time. This site will be used for housing. You may remain if you are willing to pay rent after the first month."
"But let's not be negative." Smith turned to face the cadet formation, “but rather let's focus on the positive. As surplussed individuals, you will receive pay commensurate with the position you would have received. You will be free to look for work or attend school. You could become an artist or a writer and become part of the new Renaissance!"
"Who gives a good God damn about the money?" shouted Jarl. "Everything I wanted to be has just gone to hell and this nameless bastard tells me not to be negative!"
It was as the sound had been turned off with a switch. All the conversation stopped and every pair of eyes in the room were focused on Jarl. Mere humans didn't shout at representatives of the Commonality Government. The aliens who actually ran things didn't care what happened to individual humans. These beings had conquered the Earth almost two hundred years ago. They knew just how far humankind would go and didn't cross that line. They weren't necessarily cruel, just efficient and inhuman. As long as their dictums were met concerning how humanity would develop, they didn't care. This gave petty power brokers like Mr. ‘Smith’ a great deal of leverage against his fellow humans.
"What might your name be young man?" said Smith. His words were cool, but it was obvious that he was not happy.
“Jarl did it again,” thought Taol miserably. “He just alienated literally the only person with any possible chance of helping him. Now, if someone doesn’t intercede, Jarl is going to be an elevator attendant in some rich human's mansion with his brain wiped and a permanent, idiotic grin pasted on his face.”
"Corps of Cadets, Attention," shouted Taol.
Years of training overcame confused minds, and everyone snapped to. Mr. Smith glared at Taol and the other cadet officers. He clearly had some devastating dictum to deliver and Taol just spoiled it.
"This meeting is finished,” said Smith. “Any status you had in Government Service is at an end. I have wasted enough time on you spoiled children."
With what he thought were his closing remarks, Mr. Smith began to leave the rostrum.
<
br /> "He can't do this and have the last word too," thought Taol, who racked his brain for some safe way to steal the march on him. “Steal the MARCH! That's a great idea!”
"Corps of Cadets. By Squadrons, Pass in Review!" said Taol as loudly as he was able.
The change in routine obviously surprised the Cadet Adjutant since it took longer than expected to get the music going. That was OK, since it took a few seconds for flight and squadron commanders to get their acts together and start giving the proper orders.
As the open bugle sounded the cadets began to move off by squadron to pass the rostrum. When the opening notes of the march sounded, Taol realized why it had taken Harm Milne, the Adjutant, a little longer than normal to start the music.
Ever since the Lords of the Commonality took over, all nationalistic songs had been forbidden. But they couldn't forbid everything, so some songs with artistic merit and some nationalistic overtones were still allowable. The song Harm had chosen was John Philip Sousa's "Stars and Stripes Forever," the underground American anthem.
Smith stopped on the steps and began to watch. If you have never seen a large formation of soldiers pass in review, the spectacle can be riveting.
Each Squadron moves forward several paces and then turns sharply to the left and marches off, executing a right wheel at a predesignated point where the first squadron turned. The squadron commander then has to gauge the distance and call another right wheel so that the unit comes out marching directly in front of the reviewing stand. The following squadron marches out just as the first squadron pulls away to keep the spacing.
As each squadron passes the reviewing stand, they execute a maneuver called eyes right. The column of troops nearest the stand looks straight ahead. All the other ranks look at a forty five degree angle toward the reviewing stand. At the same time the squadron guidon, a small flag, is dipped to salute the VIPs and the squadron commander flourishes his sword in a most military manner.
Since this class had started together as plebe cadets, they had done this maneuver two or three times a month. In addition, all cadets had to learn the basic moves and were required to recite them from memory before they were even allowed on the parade ground. The result was crisp movements with a minimum of commands. The parade showed discipline and pride in accomplishment. This time the cadets were especially crisp and silent. There was an overwhelming feeling that since this was the last time they would ever be in uniform, they ought to go out in style.
Smith stared as the squadrons marched by, and then looked at Commodore Hong with an uncomprehending expression. Commodore Hong looked proud. His eyes glistened a bit, but his voice was steady.
"Maybe now you'll understand the young cadet's consternation at being turned out," said Commodore Hong. "They have forged a link with tradition and history that popinjays like you never will understand. The income of a Survey officer is not a lot compared to what they do. It is what they do that compensates them. You may take the rank and the uniform away from them, but you will never take away what they are and what this experience has made them. Leave now. And do not mock what you do not understand."
That was quite a speech from the Old Man. As Commodore Hong turned away, Taol detected the hint of a wink from the old man. Then Taol and the rest of the cadet officers filed off the stage and departed without looking back.
Chapter II
When Taol arrived at his room, Jarl's door was locked. There was no sound coming from the room but Taol knew that he was there. You get to know someone pretty well after living with them for two and a half years. Taol thought it best to let him be for a while.
On Taol’s desk was an obviously mass produced sheet of instructions:
_________________________________________________
To: All Former Cadets
From: Director Smith, Labor Allocation Division
Effective immediately, you are to turn in all uniforms, equipment, and text books belonging to the Commonality Government. Personal issue items such as clothing items, foot gear, sheets, towels, and note books are exempt from this turn in.
All former cadets will be allowed thirty days to clear this facility. Any who wish to remain after the thirty-day grace period must apply to the Housing Division. Current occupants will have priority but applications must be made prior to the deadline above.
Starting today, all former cadets will have their pay allowances increased to that of an ensign on space duty. These funds will be automatically transferred to your accounts. Increases will come at regular intervals to compensate you for the promotions you would normally have received.
Any former cadets who are accepted to other training programs will have this subsidy terminated upon completion of the training and acceptance of employment.
Let's all work together to make this changeover as smooth as possible.
_____________________________________________________
"Self-serving Son of a Bitch," thought Taol.
But he obediently gathered his stuff and obediently headed towards logistics. The line seemed to be a mile long. Luckily, Taol wound up in line next to Harm Milne.
"Good choice of music." said Taol as winked conspiratorially at Harm.
"You didn't do too bad yourself." said Harm.
"Got any ideas about what to do next?" asked Taol, more as a way to kill time. In truth, their options were pretty limited.
"Well, my dad is in business for himself." said Taol, carefully looking over his shoulder before continuing. "He supplies weapons for the games. I might get on with him."
Taol’s family business was on the up and up, but because dealers in historic weapons sometimes traded with the revolutionaries, the occupation of arms dealer was not especially popular. Not that revolutionaries ever did much. Occasionally, they assassinated someone or set off a car bomb.
In truth, under the Commonality, humankind had lived better than any other time in history with more personal freedom. It was hard to get anyone excited about rebelling against the hand that fed them.
"Really?" said Harm. "My dad rents aircraft and other big-ticket items to some of the mercenaries in the games. It's good to meet someone who doesn't look down on the game support businesses."
The young men chatted for a while about the personalities in the games they both knew until they got to the head of the queue and had to turn in their issue gear.
They already had civilians replacing the Survey enlisted personnel who usually ran the logistics center. They counted everything and demanded payment on any item considered missing. Luckily, like most experienced cadets, Taol had wrangled some items that he had lost or that had been worn out through some less than official channels, so he didn't have to pay anything. Some of the freshmen, who hadn't learned all the ropes yet, got stuck for quite a few credits. An idea occurred to Taol as the two newly minted civilians were about to go their separate ways.
"Hey Harm, why don't you come up to my room after you get sorted out?” asked Taol. “Jarl and I will be looking for a new roommate since the last guy was one of the 'missing' seniors."
"Sure, might as well,” said Harm. “The two guys I'm in with, well, they come from government families. I doubt they'll stay."
#
Harm showed up at Taol’s suite about an hour later carrying his duffel. Taol had already talked to Jarl about it, and he liked the idea of rooming with the guy who had enough guts to play 'Stars and Stripes Forever' for a representative of the Commonality Government.
Taol, Harm, and Jarl sorted out which room would suit and moved Harm in, then the vidcomm sounded. Taol slapped the bar and a head and shoulders hologram of his father appeared in the corner of the room.
"Hi son,” said Bernard Ubner quietly, “I just heard."
"Hi dad," said Taol.
There wasn't a lot to say. Bernard had been surplussed out of the Naval Academy when the Space Navy had been cut back. He probably knew what was going on in Taol’s head.
"What do you want to do so
n?” asked Dad, “You can move back in with me if you need to."
“Moving in with him would start the Third Interstellar War,” thought Taol glumly. “Still, it was nice of him to offer.”
"Thanks dad,” said Taol with forced cheerfulness, “but we have thirty days rent free here and we aren't hurting for money. We are thinking of keeping the place."
"OK son,” said Bernard. “When you feel ready to shoulder a little of the load, I've got a spot for you in the family business."
“That's dad,” thought Taol bitterly, “relying on guilt till the end. It has been his way ever since Mom passed away.”
Taol knew in his heart he was being unfair, Bernard had tried to raise his son and run a business at the same time. Every compromise he made about sharing his time resulted in his feeling guilty, as it does with every single parent. The difference was, Dad was always trying to push some of that guilt on Taol. Every time something didn't go his way, guilt became the hammer. Today Taol wasn't in the mood to deal with it.
"Thanks again dad. I'll call you in a couple of days and discuss it." said Taol quietly.
"Talk to you later son," said Bernard, who then broke the connection.
After Harm got ensconced in the missing senior's room, time got pretty heavy on their hands. Jarl left for a bit and came back with a bottle of cheap brandy. The stuff tasted like wood pulp refuse, but that suited the depressed young men just fine. After the second swallow their lips numbed and taste didn’t matter. They passed the bottle around until they were royally tanked. In their drunken stupor, no one noticed when or who cried a little on each other's shoulder. It felt good to get it out in the open.
#
No one moved much the next morning. Taol wasn’t a morning person anyway, and cheap brandy gives you a hangover that is almost terminal. He swore that even his hair hurt.
