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Authors: Christopher Nuttall

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Martial Law 1: Patriotic Treason (27 page)

BOOK: Martial Law 1: Patriotic Treason
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“Doubtless,” Ellen murmured. “Your…other qualifications” – she meant my political reliability – “are in order. If you find a suitable berth, you may apply for it. Inform the Captain one day before we reach Orbit Five so that he can find a replacement for you. If you find nothing by then, either stay here or ship yourself to Luna Base and the personnel pool.”

 

I nodded, hiding my exultation as best as I could. The Devastator was supposed to carry nine Lieutenants at all times. The problems with finding qualified and capable personnel meant that she had only carried seven, including me. The Captain would have to put out a request for an additional Lieutenant to replace me, which might mean that he would have to accept the services of someone who had been beached for good reason. I hoped that he found someone more to his taste. If my political reliability was still unquestioned, that meant that he hadn’t reported my attempt to file a protest.

 

“You’re a good man,” Ellen said, standing up and dismissing me. “I wish you all the best.”

 

And what about Ensign Gomez? I thought, but I couldn’t say that to her face. Instead, I shook her hand, saluted her and returned to my quarters.

 

A day later, we emerged from the wormhole in Earth’s solar system. Unlike my last return to the system, there was no point in cruising around the outer edge of the system, trying to see what might be lurking there in the darkness. The Devastator emerged only two days from Earth at cruising speed and, while we could have come in much closer, the Captain ordered a full check of the entire ship. Two years of hard service had placed a great deal of wear and tear on the systems.

 

In-between working on the logistics – for the last time, I hoped – I checked the fleet listings from Earth. There were only seven starships in the system at the time, not counting the merchant freighters or the heavy transports, or even the colonist-carriers. One of them sailed past us two hours after we emerged and we exchanged salutes, leaving me to wonder if it actually did any good. The new colony wouldn’t be productive for years to come, at least, even if the UN didn’t screw it up right from the start. I’d read several histories of smaller colonies that made Terra Nova look like a perfect success.

 

“You should look at this one,” Kitty said, that evening. “The Walter Gallium, a new cruiser, only launched this year. The Captain needs several berths filled before he departs.”

 

“Maybe,” I agreed, slowly. The freighters and transports always needed officers – they were the least-liked berths in the UNPF – and I could have gotten one of those easily, but that would have killed my career if I’d taken it willingly. Ironically, I’d probably be a freighter Captain within a year, but it would be boring. They went from world to world on a strict schedule and they were completely unarmed. Pirates used them as targets when they located them in deep space. The Heinlein Fleet had hurt us more by hitting the transports than the real starships. “Let’s see…”

 

The process wasn't quite like a job interview on Earth, where I could send in an application for hundreds of different jobs, simultaneously. In the UNPF, I had to apply for one berth and see what happened before I applied for the next one. I couldn’t have afford to have a Captain angry at me because he’d approved my application, only to discover that I had applied to another Captain as well. I applied for the Walter Gallium, only to discover, an hour later, that the Captain had already filled the berth. It grew to be a depressingly familiar experience over the next few hours. The competition for interstellar berths was fierce. I was starting to think that applying for several posts at once was a low-risk strategy after all.

 

“Here,” Kitty said, finally. “Look at this one?”

 

My eyes went wide. Captain Harriman was looking for a new Lieutenant? Why would anyone ever want to leave his ship? I asked Kitty and she laughed.

 

“Ambition, of course,” she said, dryly. I rolled my eyes, but really – wasn't I being ambitious as well? “Anyone who’s still a Lieutenant after five years probably doesn’t have a hope of making Captain, even if there were more Captain slots open for the aspiring Lieutenant. Why do you think I want to advance?”

 

I grinned. Kitty had only a year on me. She might have a chance of becoming a Captain herself in a year, if she had a term as First Lieutenant to prove that she could handle a starship. And, of course, if she could convince the UNPF Promotion Board that she was reliable enough to command a starship. Roger would probably make Captain as soon as possible, just because of his family. I hadn’t realised, until Heinlein, just how much of a stake he had in the UN. His family were among the top ten of the system.

 

“Particularly if Anna doesn’t want to leave,” I agreed. Anna would probably wind up inheriting Devastator if something happened to the Captain. It was a reasonable way to run for command, unless the Promotion Board decided to assign another commander to the monitor. A newly-minted Captain would outrank her, regardless of her length of service. “I’m going to apply for this post, if you don’t mind…”

 

“I don’t want a cruiser,” Kitty said, firmly. “I’m applying for the battleship openings.”

 

The next few hours went by slowly. We both went on duty and joined the crewmen and junior officers checking each nook and cranny. I went through the supply workroom where Frank had raped Ensign Gomez and made sure that it was unmarked, without even a trace of what had happened there. Perhaps I was being silly, but somehow the pain and shock had faded away, leaving only a dull memory. The poor girl had been scarred for life…and no one cared. Even the Captain had only been able to give Frank Wong a black eye. The insurgents had done more for her than any of us. I made endless lists of components that needed replaced for my successor, although part of my mind was already resigned to remaining on Devastator for another cruise. I wasn't sure, but it was possible that even a transport would be preferable. I didn’t want to kill more innocents.

 

“I got it,” Kitty said, calling my terminal directly. I’d never heard her so happy in my life. “Captain Hafiz sends his compliments and welcomes me onboard Trygve Lie, in Earth Orbit. I’ll be Second Lieutenant!”

 

“Congratulations,” I said, as I walked back to the cabin. I was happy for her, and yet…part of my mind was devastated at losing her to another ship. We could exchange letters via the Brotherhood communications network, but it wouldn’t be quite the same. I’d known that one day we would part – it was inevitable, given our careers – but it still hurt. “One step down from First Lieutenant, right?”

 

“Oh, I’m sure I can knife my opponent in the back,” Kitty agreed, with a laugh. I had to agree with her. The Second Lieutenant had ample opportunity to embarrass his or her nominal superior. It was quite likely that their Captain wouldn’t tolerate open warfare, but subtle manoeuvring was fairly common. “Have you received anything yet?”

 

I checked my terminal, but shook my head. “Nothing,” I said. It was traditional to get back to the applicant as soon as possible, but it was possible that Captain Harriman was busy, or couldn’t be bothered contacting me. My imagination could invent all kinds of possible scenarios. “When does he want you onboard?”

 

“Next week,” Kitty said, slowly, reading through the data packet. The battleship was newly commissioned, it seemed, having taken five years to build. I wasn't blind to the implications. The UN was having problems maintaining its construction program. I wondered, suddenly, how many workers had been conscripted from planets like Heinlein. “I’ll have four days at Luna City, unless I choose to report to barracks, etcetera, etcetera.”

 

She looked nervous, suddenly. “Will you join me there, if you can get leave?”

 

“The locals will hate me,” I predicted. Luna City was notorious for its facilities for spacemen. It included hundreds of bars, dozens of brothels and numberless gambling dens. A crewman might take his service bonus in one day and emerge with enough money to retire, but it was far more likely that he would end up completely broke by the end of the day. It was also a known gangland habitat, operated by one of the most notorious criminal gangs in space. The Outfit kept it all running smoothly, but woe betide the health inspector who took a close look at the eateries there. “You turning up with competition on your arm.”

 

“Twit,” Kitty said. She elbowed me hard enough to hurt. “Get that uniform off, mister.”

 

She pulled me down on top of her and into her. I pushed deep inside her, feeling closer to her than ever before, and started to move. I was moving faster and faster when my terminal bleeped, announcing an incoming message.

 

“If you stop now,” Kitty panted, “I’ll cut off your fucking balls.”

 

I couldn’t have stopped if she’d told me to stop. I kept moving, feeling the orgasm building up inside of me, until it burst out and we came together. She shuddered endlessly under me, gasping out loud, until we finally subsidised.

 

“You’re magnificent,” I breathed. It was true. Naked and dishevelled, her long red hair hanging down over her breasts, she was beautiful beyond words. I wanted her so much it hurt. “I wish…let’s get married, now.”

 

“You’re being silly,” she said, after kissing me. I felt rejected, even though I knew better. Lieutenants couldn’t get married until they were assigned to a permanent station. It was almost worth doing just for her. “We can’t get married and you know it.”

 

I pulled myself off her and sat up, reaching for my terminal and opening the message. I had to read it twice to confirm that I had read it properly. It offered me the post of Lieutenant on the old Jacques Delors, under Captain Harriman. I yelled aloud in delight and threw myself at her. It was nearly another hour before she picked up the terminal and thumbed through it herself. I didn’t begrudge her the chance to look at it. If nothing else, we could compare postings.

 

“John,” she said, carefully, “have you read this bit here?”

 

I checked. It was the list of service periods for the four other Lieutenants. I blinked again. “That can’t be right,” I said, puzzled. None of them had a service period over a year. “What happened to Lieutenant Hatchet?”

 

“I don’t know,” Kitty said, “but reading this…you’re First Lieutenant. You will be the second-in-command of the entire ship.”

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

 

 

Officially, the UNPF bans personnel associations of any kind, apart from those funded and operated by political officers. Unofficially, there are hundreds of little groups within the UNPF, mostly involving classmates at the Academy or officers who have shared a term of service together, or a common interest. The UNPF Chess Club has over two thousand members and organises tournaments as often as it can. The vast majority of such personnel associations are harmless and the UN has learned to turn a blind eye. Even so, some of them have operated against the UNPF and UN interests.

 

-Thomas Anderson. An Unbiased Look at the UNPF. Baen Historical Press, 2500.

 

 

 

It had been nearly three years since I had set foot in Luna City, but little had changed. The massive dome covering the Sea of Tranquillity still allowed the unblinking stars to glare down on a scene of debauchery that would have shocked the early Romans. I had fond memories of my visits to Luna City while I’d been at the Academy and, looking around, I could see other Cadets staring around, wondering if they dared seek entrance to some of the strip bars or brothels the Outfit ran. Others walked hand in hand with girls they’d picked up, enjoying their company before taking them back to their hotel rooms to complete the bargain, or even not waiting that long. I saw, in a dark corner, a Cadet making out with a woman who looked old enough to be his mother. He wasn't the only one either. Luna City had very little in the way of laws.

 

I’d read two versions of how Luna City and the Lunar Authority came into existence. One, the version I’d been taught back at the Academy, had had the United Nations running the entire Lunar settlement program from the beginning, carefully settling the moon so that everyone had a share in the resources there. The other version, the one I’d read in the Heinlein books, suggested that the moon had been settled from different nations, eventually united into a government that then fell under the sway of the United Nations. The Luna-born were largely trapped. Unlike me, or anyone from Earth, they couldn’t survive for long in a high-gravity environment. There were some asteroids that had Luna-standard gravity, but they were rare.

 

In theory, Luna City was responsible to the Lunar Authority, but in practice it tended to go its own way. I hadn’t understood why the UN hadn’t done something about it until I’d studied it more carefully. Luna City had nothing worth the taking and provided an excellent distraction for the cadets on their off-duty hours. They could take the monorail from the Academy and be in Luna City in a couple of hours, then spend a week in some prostitute’s bed. The Outfit kept the entire place under very strict control. It might have been a den of scum and villainy, but the Cadets were fairly safe in Luna City. The last thing the Outfit wanted was to do anything that the UN might feel obliged to take notice of, or react to. A missing Cadet would be a serious problem for them. Luna City was, in effect, a grey colony in the solar system.

 

I smiled to myself as I passed a set of Japanese-looking girls wearing nothing, but translucent underwear. The thought of seeking their company – and they would be willing, if I paid them enough – was attractive, but I had another destination. I gave the girls a wink and passed onwards, trying to ignore their perfume as best as I could. I’d seen Cadets lose themselves completely in the fleshpots of Luna City, or accidentally overdosing themselves on something they were sold in a bar, and I couldn’t afford the distraction. I passed the Hub bar, where many Cadets used to go for drinks, and smiled again, remembering the many good times I’d had there. The hotel loomed up in front of me and I paused. Did I dare go through with it? It would be so easy to make a single mistake and lose everything.

BOOK: Martial Law 1: Patriotic Treason
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