An Officer’s Duty (21 page)

Nodding, Spada touched the controls, closing the door
between them. That left her alone with a man who, according to her precognitive senses, didn’t exist. Still disoriented from her disrupted sleep, Ia stayed in the nook between the closet door, front door, and bathroom door for a few moments, marshalling her wits. Marshalling them, and trying to sense Cadet Harper through the timestreams.

Nothing. He was a living, breathing grey spot. Not, as she had presumed the night before, someone who was unimportant in the greater scheme of her quests to save the galaxy, but…someone who she literally could not predict. A blank spot, an empty space…a glass rock parting the waters of the future around his existence, seen only by the way others reacted in his vicinity at absolute best. At least, as far as she could tell without fully flipping her mind onto the timeplains.

Giving up, she scrubbed at her face and hair to try and finish waking up, then padded back into the main room. She couldn’t risk immersing herself in the timeplains when she didn’t know yet if he would try to touch her while she seemingly meditated. The whole situation had Ia so puzzled, so uncomfortable, she didn’t even realize how she was looking at him until he glanced up from unpacking his kitbag and arched one thick dark brow.

“Is something wrong?”

“
Ah
…no. No, nothing’s wrong. I’m,
uh
, still trying to wake up,” Ia improvised. She returned to her bed and sat on the edge, trying to get a grip on her senses.

“Yeah, I guess I can relate to that. I’ve been up for nineteen hours, myself, but they’re not going to hold back the opening class just so I can catch a few winks,” he agreed.

His voice was deeper than she expected. Aside from the flat roundness of his face, reminding her somewhat of her friend Rabbit, Cadet Meyun Harper was tallish, thinnish, and youngish-looking. Though she supposed that could’ve been due to his clean-shaven face. She honestly had no clue as to his age, his history, his origins. Her postcognitive abilities weren’t nearly as strong as her precognitive ones, but they were still incredibly strong, all things considered.

Yet…nothing. Zip. Zilch. A…a grey hole in existence. Not quite a black hole, since he clearly exists and I can see and interact with him physically, but…psychically? How can he not-exist like that?

Her bedside chrono beeped, startling her into jumping up. Heart pounding, Ia endured another bemused look from her new roommate. Settling back down, she shook her head briefly to clear it, then leaned over and shut off the machine. “
Ah
…you need a shower?”

“You go first,” he offered. “You look like you need to wake up. I still need to figure out if I’m folding everything right.”

Turning to her wardrobe bureau, Ia opened up the top three drawers, extracting everything but the shoes she would need for the day. She left the drawers open. “Here, look at how I’ve folded my own. The Navy’s way shouldn’t be that much different from the Marines’.”

“You’re from the Marines?” he asked her.

“I’m a cross-Branch transfer. I won’t take long in the shower, Cadet, promise,” she added, bundling up her under-and outer garments.

“Thanks, I’ll look it all over. Oh,
um
, wait,” he stated, holding out his hand, first palm up and out, then turning it sideways. “Call me Meyun. When we’re alone in here. Obviously they’ll have us calling each other ‘Cadet Harper’ and ‘Cadet Ia’ out in the halls and such. But since we’re roommates…just call me Meyun.”

“May-yoon…” She tested the name. Nothing. Not a single twinge of her gifts, pre- or postcognitive. Again, she was forced to fall back on the only safe procedures she had, the habits of courtesy and military protocol. Except she didn’t reach for the hand he offered. “Thank you, Meyun. I’m told I don’t snore, though I haven’t had to share quarters in over a year. If I do…just throw a boot or something at me. From a safe distance. I
did
just come from a combat-heavy Border Patrol, so it might not be safe to be within range if you startle me awake.”

“Duly noted.” He gave her an expectant look, then raised his brows and flicked his outstretched hand. “And
your
given name would be…?”

This, at least, was familiar ground. She gave him a wry smile, clutching her clothes to her T-shirt-covered chest as an excuse to avoid shaking his hand. “My full name
is
Ia. Nothing less, and nothing more.”

“Right. Though I can’t see how it could be any less.”

“Trust me, I’ve heard that one before,” she managed to quip, edging toward the facilities.

He watched her head toward the bathroom. If he lowered his hand, Ia didn’t know. She very carefully kept her attention on the need to hold her clothes to her chest. For the first time in her life, she felt naked, as in exposed. Vulnerable. Not physically, but deeper than that. His quip about her name wasn’t the first time she’d heard that, but…
Okay, so I
do
feel a little naked physically…

It wasn’t until she was lathering up her hair under the hot spray of the shower that a new thought crossed her mind. One which hadn’t been felt in a very long time. A kind of thought which she believed had died in the early dawn hours of an ordinary, banal morning some five years ago.

I can’t believe how cute he is…

I can’t…? I can’t believe how
cute
he is?
Dismayed at herself, Ia stared at the steam-fogged plexi of the shower door until a trickle of lather threatened to get into her eyes. Scrubbing her scalp furiously, she did her best to wash that idiotic, useless, pointless thought down the drain.

“That, Class 1252, concludes the overview of your daily schedule,” Lieutenant Commander Spada stated, tapping his arm unit to advance the image being projected on the wall behind him. “I realize it is a very full schedule, more so than any of the four- or even two-year programs here at the Academia, but between your transcripts, your DoI profiles, and the recommendations of some of your superiors—since most of you are Field Commission recipients—the Space Force believes you can handle it.”

His co-teacher for the class and one of their chief testers, Captain Rzhikly, spoke up next. Not everyone spoke Terranglo with a neutral accent; some provinces on Earth still retained their native tongues for everyday use. His accent was therefore thick but his words wise with the years salting his dark hair in stark streaks of grey.

“Of course, dis does mean ve have to break you down and build you up all de faster, since you’re being fast-tracked through de accelerated studies program…but today, ve’ll go easy on you.” He smiled wryly. “So to speak. De first task, of course, is to find out vat
you
know about vat it means to be an officer. Ve vill start vit vat it means to be a soldier, de most
basic unit of any military organization, because dere is a difference between a soldier and an officer—and by using de term
soldier
, I’m including all de enlisted sailors in de Space Force Navy, de Marines of de Marine Corps, and so forth—you are
all
in de Space Force, derefore you are
all
soldiers. Not just de vuns who serve in de TUPSF-Army.”

“So,” Lieutenant Commander Spada stated, moving to the next topic. “Cadet Burroughs. Of all your classmates, you’ve been in the military the longest, serving with distinction as both an enlisted soldier and a noncommissioned officer in the TUPSF-Army for over thirteen years before earning your Field Commission just three weeks ago. What would
you
say are the responsibilities of a soldier?” Spada asked him.

“Commander, yes…I mean, aye, sir,” the cadet in question corrected himself.

As they had been instructed, Cadet Burroughs stood up next to his desk-seat in order to answer their lead instructor. He also used the approved short-form of Spada’s title, as instructed. Spada wasn’t a plain lieutenant and he wasn’t a commander, but was instead slotted between the two. So, Spada had explained that the default was to use the higher half of his rank, if they wished to shorten the amount of time it took to address him by rank—or to address a lieutenant colonel in one of the other three Branches, or even a brigadier, major, or lieutenant general.

Burroughs was a tall, thin, buzz-cut man in his mid- to late thirties. His skin was only mildly tanned, his hair an indiscriminate shade of brownish something given how short it was, and his eyes were a piercing shade of grey blue. He wasn’t the oldest member of Class 1252, but he was close to it.

“In the Army, sirs,” he said, “we were taught that a soldier’s responsibilities are to obey the laws of the Terran United Planets, to obey the lawful orders of his or her superiors, and to achieve all objectives in the most efficient, effective manner possible. By following the rules and regulations of the TUPSF-Army…and the other three Branches…a soldier’s efforts will be carried out in a suitably efficient, effective manner,” Burroughs stated. “A soldier is responsible for whatever he is legally assigned to do, and responsible for doing it in the approved manner. Beyond that…the variety of tasks which will be asked of a soldier are too great to list without taking all day, sirs.”

“Alright. That’s a good start. Cadet Ffulke,” Spada addressed next, pacing along the platform at the front of the auditorium-style classroom. The chamber held an additional twenty or so empty seats, but there were only fifty-three people in this current group of officer candidates. “You have never actually served in the military, but between your Military Aptitude Test scores, your college records, and the recommendations of your Junior Reserve trainers on Eiaven, they think you may have what it takes to make a good officer, and to do it in just one year. So. What
are
the responsibilities of an officer?”

“Commander, sir,” Cadet Ffulke stated, standing up beside his desk. He was short, stocky, and a fellow heavyworlder. His hair was dark, his skin had that golden cast to it that said he held V’Dan more than Terran ancestry, and his eyes puppy dog brown. He kind of reminded Ia of a stubbie, the short-legged breed of dog found on Sanctuary. “An officer must carry out the same duties and responsibilities as any soldier…
and
be responsible for overseeing the duties and responsibilities of those soldiers placed under his or her command. Sir.”

“Good answer. A few of you are like Cadet Ffulke: new to the Service, yet full of a great deal of potential and promise, great enough to see how well you can hold up here in the accelerated studies program,” Spada stated. “Most of you are more like Cadet Burroughs; you’ve served for at least half a dozen years on average and have either earned a Field Commission, or have passed the requisite tests and requested transfer to an Academy at the end of your most recent tour of duty so that you can attempt to become an officer. But none of you have served
as
an officer for more than a couple weeks at most…except for Cadet Ia.”

Oh, great. Here it comes…

Captain Rzhikly lifted his chin at her. “Cadet Ia, you earned your Field Commission several months ago over de incident involving Beta Librae V, in de Zubeneschamali System. You den stepped up to fill your Platoon Lieutenant’s shoes vhile she vos recovering from her spinal injuries. You served as de Second Platoon Lieutenant of your Marine Company for almost tree months, is dat correct?”

Ia slid out of her seat, standing At Attention. “Sir, yes, sir.”

“That’s a bit unusual. Normally, a Field Commissioned
officer is shipped off as soon as possible.” Spada said, pacing along the platform, hands clasped behind his back. “Do you know why you weren’t?”

“Captain Ferrar thought it was best for the Company’s morale if we did not appear to ‘replace’ Lieutenant D’kora with a stranger, sirs. The entire incident was unsettling enough for us to endure as it was, however temporary.”

“Well, your DoI file lists a few additions to that reasoning, but we won’t get around to dissecting and discussing DoI reports for another five months. Alright, Cadet. Give us
your
opinion of what the differences are between a soldier and an officer, since you’ve had the most practical experience of anyone in your class at being the latter,” Lieutenant Commander Spada instructed her.

“Captain, Lieutenant Commander, in my estimation, the duties and obligations of soldiers versus officers are nearly identical, with three major exceptions, sirs,” Ia stated. She clasped her hands behind her blue-clad back in a modified Parade Rest, since her feet were together instead of shoulder-width apart. “In the Marines, we were taught that a soldier’s duty is to place his or her weapons, skills, body, and even life between innocent civilians and anything that threatens them. A soldier’s responsibility is to do these things by obeying his or her orders in a manner that is consistently legal, efficient, and moral, in compliance with military regulations, sirs.”

“And by comparison, Cadet Ia, an officer’s duty is…?” Rzhikly prompted her when she paused for breath.

“An officer’s duty is to place his or her weapons, skills, body, and even life between innocent civilians and anything that threatens them…
and
to use the weapons, skills, bodies, and lives of the soldiers placed under that officer’s lawful command. This is the first difference between a soldier and an officer.