Shades of Empire (ThreeCon)

by Carmen Webster Buxton

  Doc slipped out with no more than a nod of acknowledgement. Madeline hit the panel on the wall that operated the fold-away chair. When it popped into place, she took a seat and leaned back. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

  He paused as if he were debating where to begin.

  Madeline gave him a moment, but when he didn’t speak, she lifted her brows. “I need to know who and what you are, Napier. You don’t stay on my ship otherwise.”

  He drew a deep breath, and then started to talk, the words spilling out as if he had been holding them in. “I was born and raised on Gaulle, in the Aquitaine. I was conscripted into the army when I was fourteen. After I started active duty at eighteen, I was tapped for the Emperor’s Own Corp.” He gave her a grim smile. “Not by choice, you understand. Like most of the Corps, I was eventually assigned to Montmartre, to the Imperial Palace, in fact.” He stopped abruptly.

  Madeline waited, and after a moment he picked up his narrative.

  “The Palace is—it’s—it’s not a nice place,” he said unevenly. He put one hand over his eyes for a moment before he went on. “I didn’t like it there. Still, I don’t think I would have done anything but wait out my twenty except that there was a woman—a girl, almost. She was one of the Emperor’s playthings. Her name was Celia, and she came from the Aquitaine, too. She was miserable in the Palace. The Emperor had summoned her a few times, and she hadn’t cared for the experience. Besides that, she was lonely. The women in the Palace are shut up there all the time; they can’t get out, and they see only each other.”

  Madeline had heard stories. She nodded.

  He took another deep breath. “Anyway, I heard Celia talking and I recognized her accent. I spoke to her once or twice, in a friendly way, when I was escorting her to the Emperor. She slipped me a note the second time, and it asked me to meet her. There are a few out-of-the-way places in the women’s quarters where she could go to meet me. I was on one side of a screen and she was on the other, but we could talk.”

  “So,” Madeline said, “you fell in love with this woman?”

  Alexander shook his head ruefully. He let out a sigh as if telling his story had somehow relieved him of a burden. “No. If you want to know the truth, she reminded me of my sister. It wasn’t that I loved her; I simply felt sorry for her. She wanted, more than anything, to go home, and so did I.”

  “So what happened?”

  He stared at the bulkhead like it held some vital information. “I planned an escape for her. The Corps caught us and that was that. They took her off to torture her, and then tried me for treason and condemned me to death.”

  Madeline smiled. “They didn’t do a very good job of carrying out the sentence.”

  He grinned back at her, a humorless, death’s head grin. “That was the Emperor’s idea. The Colonel didn’t like it, but the Emperor insisted. He wanted me to die as slowly as possible, and with as much suffering as he could manage. He was there when they hooked me up to the life support. He even told me how long I would live—four to six months, he said. He stayed in the life pod until the holo had played through the first time, just so he could watch me cringe. He took great pleasure in telling me I would see it at least three thousand times before I died.”

  “But why put you in the life pod? Why not just keep you in a dungeon or something?”

  For the first time, the soldier looked uncomfortable, as if he were embarrassed by his confession. “Because he knew I hated the idea of dying alone. He was there when they questioned me under nempathenol. He asked me what I feared most, and I said I was afraid of being alone. So when I came out of it, he told me the Corps was going to seal me into a pod—weld it shut so no one could get in. He said they would dump the pod where no one would ever even find my body, somewhere where ships never traveled.”

  He gave her a curious look. “It looks like he was wrong.”

  Madeline wasn’t about to answer the implied question of what the Bee was doing in the trackless fringes of the Degollado system. “I guess so.”

  “So what happens now?”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “How do you mean?”

  “What happens to me now that you’ve found me?”

  She studied him a moment before she answered. He could be useful. If nothing else, his military training would make him an asset if they were ever in a fight again. “All right. Considering your status with the Empire, I guess it can’t hurt to tell you this ship isn’t always squeaky clean. I’ve never been one to let rules hold me back, especially not Emperor Lothar’s rules.”

  He digested this comment and asked a question. “Are you saying you’re a smuggler?”

  She hedged. “Some would call me that. I prefer to say that I have my own ideas about fair trade.”

  He nodded as if to suggest this wasn’t an unreasonable attitude. “What about me?”

  She made a face, half worried frown, half annoyed grimace. The truth was, if he proved to be dangerous, it would be foolish not to dump him somewhere where he couldn’t pass on what he would be bound to learn about the Queen Bee. On the other hand, he was hardly in a position to make trouble, and he had valuable experience to offer. “It depends on you. I could use you, if you’re interested. Everyone has at least one regular job on the Bee, and if things get sticky, then they all become soldiers.”

  He lifted his brows in a questioning expression. “My conviction for treason doesn’t bother you?”

  Madeline laughed out loud. “Desertion is also considered treason, and I’ve got a ship full of deserters. Where do you think two thirds of my crew is from? That’s why most of them are men—they’re Gaullians who didn’t care for the Emperor’s recruiting methods.”

  “What about you?”

  She shook her head. “I’m from New Carolina. My parents had a legitimate shipping business there. I shipped out on a freighter to learn that end of it, and I decided I liked being shipboard a hell of a lot more than being stuck in an office. Once I had my own ship, I began recruiting a crew, and here I am.”

  “So what are my options?”

  Madeline’s unease returned. She didn’t like lying to a crewman, but on the other hand, sometimes the truth was awkward. “You can sign on with me, same terms as the rest of the crew. You work your shift, follow orders, and you get fed and housed. Once we make a delivery, you get a crewman’s share in the payoff.”

  “Or?”

  “Or you don’t sign on with me. We’re on our way to Gaulle to off-load our cargo and then we’ll head for the Rim. We’ll make a stop or two there, pick up new cargo and then head back to this system. I’ll drop you off at the first Rim planet on the schedule.”

  He thought this over and then gave her a penetrating look. “If I say no thanks, what are the chances that I’ll make it to the Rim?”

  “Oh, you’d make it.” Maybe it would be best to let him know where he stood after all—or at least, to hint at it. “But where we’re going isn’t a good place to be unattached and friendless, if you know what I mean. They have some pretty aggressive flesh peddlers on Tegallos, and you have very marketable flesh.”

  He took this in with a slight smile—still grim, but a genuine smile. “I see. Very well, I think I’d like to sign on with the Queen Bee.”

  She slid off the chair, and it folded back into the wall. “Great! I’ll have Niels check you out. Niels Trudeau is the first mate. He’ll find out what you can do for us, and get you set up with a bunk and everything.”

  “How big is this ship?”

  “Nissan class,” Madeline said with pride. “Thirty-seven in the crew—thirty-eight, counting you.” She stopped in the doorway and looked back at him, more intrigued than she had been about a new crewman in years. “Ask Niels about the list.”

  “What list?”

  “He’ll explain it,” she said, deliberately vague. “Welcome to the crew, Napier.”

  “Thank you, Captain Palestrino.”

  “You can call me skipper. Everyone does.”

&nbs
p; • • •

  Alexander watched the door close behind Madeline Palestrino. Had he done the right thing? It didn’t make a difference really. He had no real alternatives. At least there were other Gaullians in the crew, so he wouldn’t feel totally alone.

  He lay back on the bunk and pondered the incredible coincidence that had resulted in his rescue. It gave him an immense sense of satisfaction to know that Emperor Lothar had been thwarted, that the du Plessis weren’t all powerful in the universe, or even the Degollado system. Perhaps it was even possible that Celia was still alive.

  • • •

  Niels Trudeau proved to be a helpful sort. He took a lot of information from Alexander, checked the crew assignments, and then told Alexander that he would be working in systems.

  “Fine,” Alexander said.

  “The thing is,” Niels said, sounding apologetic as they started a tour of the ship, “you’ll have to bunk with Thad—Thaddeus Jenner. There’s no other space.”

  “Something wrong with Thad?”

  “`Not exactly,” Niels said slowly. “I mean, he doesn’t smell bad or snore or anything like that. It’s just he’s a little weak in his mass storage device.”

  Alexander was unfamiliar with the idiom. “Are you saying he’s crazy or stupid?”

  Niels grinned. “Neither. He’s our astrogator, and believe me, he wouldn’t last long if he were truly stupid. Most of the crew think he’s an autistic savant—one of those people who are impaired in how they interact with their environment, but in one area they’re brilliant.”

  Alexander had known a boy like that back in the Aquitaine. “I thought off-world doctors could treat almost every problem.”

  Niels looked disinterested. “I don’t know if Thad’s ever been to a doctor about it. I mean, he functions okay. He just doesn’t have a lot to say.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’ll see.” Niels waved a hand as if encouraging forward motion. “After the tour, we’ll pick up some uniforms from Connie in Supplies, and then I’ll take you to your cubby. Thad’s off duty now, so you’ll meet him.”

  Alexander followed along. “Fine. What about the list?”

  Niels’ head tilted back, and then his brows knit together as a frown overtook the look of surprise on his face. “Who told you about the list?”

  “Captain Palestrino. She said I should ask you about it.”

  “Really?” The frown disappeared as Niels broke into a frank grin that suggested amusement mixed with inquisitiveness. “That’s interesting. Usually she waits and lets a guy find out about it for himself.”

  His amusement piqued Alexander’s curiosity. “So what is it?”

  Niels grimaced and glanced around the corridor. “It’s kind of difficult to explain—if you don’t know Maddy.”

  “The skipper?” Alexander asked. The first mate seemed reluctant to come to the point. What was this mysterious list?

  Niels nodded and scratched his chin. “One thing you guys from Gaulle always have to learn is, merchant ships are pretty casual about sex. I know it’s different on your world, but out here we all spend months and months in space with no one around but ourselves. Ship etiquette has always been that whatever two consenting adults want to do in private is entirely up to them. More than two, sometimes—no one’s counting. And no one makes judgments about anyone else.” Niels almost glared at Alexander. “The one thing you never want to do is call someone names because of who they sleep with—or don’t sleep with.”

  Alexander was lost. It sounded like Niels was preaching tolerance for any men or women who preferred to pair off with their own gender. This matched what little Alexander had seen of off-world culture on the space station, but it also seemed unrelated to the earlier part of the conversation. Unless Captain Palestrino had such a predilection? “What has this got to do with the skipper?”

  “Well, the thing is,” Niels said, pausing his walking as well as his speech, as if he couldn’t find his way and the right words at the same time, “Maddy’s not someone who could go months and months without fooling around. She’s from New Carolina, and they tend to be even more casual about sex there than we do aboard ship, so Maddy was used to a steady supply, if you know what I mean. She gets testy if she goes without for very long. But she doesn’t have anyone she really cares about—no one special, I mean—and since she’s the captain, she didn’t want to play favorites. She didn’t want anyone to say she was favoring one guy over another, so she started the list.”

  Alexander was ready to punch the first mate if he didn’t explain himself fast. “But what is it a list of?”

  “Guys. Crewmen. When Maddy gets a case of the hots, whoever’s up next on the list is invited to her cabin.”

  “You mean the crew has to sleep with the captain?” Alexander asked, appalled. This sounded a lot like the army, but with the genders reversed.

  “No, no, no!” Niels shook his head emphatically. “Nobody has to sleep with anybody. It’s just that whoever’s up next, Maddy offers him a chance to go to bed with her. He can say no if he wants, or he can say yes. It doesn’t make a damn bit of difference about anything. Maddy’s fully capable of going to bed with a guy one night and throwing him in the brig the next. I know because she’s done it.”

  Maybe it wasn’t as bad as the army. Certainly no one ever gave the whores on Space Station du Plessis the chance to opt out. “So who’s on the list?”

  Niels grinned. “Every guy on the ship except, LeFranc and Porter, and me and Thad.”

  The first mate’s wording in linking the names made Alexander curious. He didn’t ask the question out loud, but his expression must have given him away, because Niels grinned.

  “Yes,” Niels said. “Porter and LeFranc are a couple. Thad and I are not. As a matter of fact, I’ve got a regular thing going with Carmela de Vega, our pilot. Maddy won’t let me ask Thad if he wants to be on the list. She said he’s not competent to decide.”

  It struck Alexander as a contradiction. “But he’s competent to set a course in folded space?”

  Niels shrugged, resuming his pace. “You’ll see. So, do you want to be on the list or not?”

  “No,” Alexander said, without hesitation. “Not just yet.” Maybe the other crewmen could divorce their jobs from their sex lives so easily but he wasn’t sure he could.

  “Okay. Let me know if you change your mind. You’ll go to the bottom, and it can take anywhere from two to six months for your name to come up.”

  “How many men did you say there are on this ship?”

  “There were thirty until you came aboard. There are seven women, including Maddy, but she’s never swung that way, any more than LeFranc and Porter want to swing her way.”

  Alexander opened his eyes wide. “Two months?”

  “Yeah, well,” Niels said, grinning, “the speed depends a lot on how horny Maddy gets.”

  “I see.” He didn’t really, but he hoped he would understand in time. He could tell already that being on this ship would be very different from any of his experiences in the Emperor’s army.

  “Anyway,” Niels said as they turned a corner, “I’ll get you set up to access the systems. I’m the systems administrator for the moment, although if you work out, I might give you that job.”

  “All right.”

  “And,” Niels added, “once you get into the system, you should read the rules in the staff manual. There aren’t a lot of them, but they’re strictly enforced and some of the penalties are pretty stiff.”

  This sounded ominous. “What kind of rules?”

  “Well, be sure to read the details, but basically, you have to obey orders, show up for your shift, and keep your nose clean. No fighting on duty, no drinking on duty, and no horsing around. No drugs or personal weapons anywhere on the ship. Bringing drugs aboard is a capital offense, and believe me, that one is enforced and everyone knows it. The other thing is, you have to stay in shape.”

  “Stay in shape?”

  Niels
waved one hand to encompass the corridor. “We only maintain about sixty percent Terran normal gravity. That’s enough to make the living space comfortable—you can tell the floor from the ceiling and the coffee stays in the cup—but it’s not enough to keep everyone from going space soft. Maddy makes everyone work out with weights every day—no exceptions.”

  “Okay.” Compared to what the Corps imposed, these didn’t seem like onerous rules.

  “Here we are in Engineering,” Niels said.

  The tour of the ship didn’t take long. Most of the space in a Nissan class freighter proved to be cargo holds. The space that could be occupied by unsuited humans was divided into four levels. Engineering was in level one, just aft of the forward hold. The bridge and op center were on level two, along with the captain’s cabin and some of the crew quarters. Level three consisted of the common room and the gym, as well as the remainder of the crew quarters. The fourth level held the galley and mess hall, the sick bay, the brig, and storage rooms for the quartermaster’s stores. All the levels looked a lot alike, except that the walls were different colors—yellow on level one, pale blue on level two, green on three, and gray on four.

  Niels was leading the way out of the lift on level four when Alexander asked about aliens.

  The first mate grinned reassurance. “Actually, we don’t have any aboard at the moment. Non-Terrans don’t like to sign on with a ship that travels the Degollado run, because the Emperor’s laws are so restrictive. They couldn’t leave the ship anywhere in the Degollado system, not even on the space stations—although our deserters have almost the same rules and they don’t seem to mind.” He stopped in front of a door marked Quartermaster. “Let’s go in, and Connie will get you set up with what you need.”

  Connie Krupin, the quartermaster, turned out to be a tall young woman with a round face and a pleasant smile. She issued Alexander his uniforms and personal kit with a mildly curious glance. “The skipper said you’d be coming by. I just finished making these from the specs Doc gave me. Hope they fit.”

  Alexander hoped so, too. Almost the only thing he missed from the Corps was the perception of being normal height. Niels Trudeau was more than a head shorter than he was. Alexander already felt a bit oversized.