An Officer’s Duty (20 page)

“Trust me, I can keep up with it, Lieutenant. Attending classes all day long will be like a vacation to me, compared to constantly being shot at on a hot spot Border Patrol,” Ia muttered. “And I never give less than my best, sir.”

“Then all your paperwork and your transfer orders appear to be in order,” he stated. “Lieutenant Ia, ident #96-03-0004-0092-0076-0002, are you prepared at this time to transfer your service contract from the Branch Marine Corps to the Branch Navy of the Terran United Planets Space Force, and enter this Academy for training specifically as an SF-Navy officer?”

“Sir, yes, sir,” she agreed. “I am ready to be transferred into the Space Force Navy and its Academy system at this time, sir.”

“You’ll want to get used to saying ‘Aye, sir,’ since that’s the Navy’s way,” he quipped, “but we get enough cross-Branch transfers, that they’ll take a ‘yes, sir’ all the same.” Swirling his finger through the air, he bopped it onto his keyboard and
flashed her a smile. “Congratulations, meioa-e, you are now officially in the SF-Navy. Welcome to the Academia de Marinha Estrelas, Class 1252.

“You’re also officially in the wrong uniform, now,” he added, smiling to show he was teasing Ia. “Luckily for you, it’s a Sunday. Let me call your class trainer, Lieutenant Commander Spada. He’ll run you over to the dispensary for a fresh set of uniforms, then to the dorms to assign you your quarters. We still have a dozen more cadets expected to arrive by tonight. That is, presuming the windstorm outside doesn’t delay them any further.

“You’d think that by the end of the twenty-fifth century, we’d have gotten the hang of controlling the weather, but no, we haven’t yet,” the lieutenant mock-sighed. Shrugging, he continued with the introductory lecture. “Be advised that cadets are
not
allowed off the Academy grounds unless escorted by a regimen trainer or a class instructor, or given formal Leave to go into town. Curfews are strict, and the Department of Innovations will be watching your every move. Cadets who lack sufficient drive and discipline will never rise in rank above the bare minimum for their service time and pay grade…and before you ask, I merely lack the drive, not the discipline. I like being a lowly lieutenant, and I actively enjoy administrative work. You can’t be an effective administrator if you’re not disciplined.”

“Then I’m glad you have a job and a position you love,” Ia quipped back. “The rest of us should be so lucky.”

“With luck, you’ll get the postings you like, too…or at least come to like the postings you get. Be advised that your classes will run twice as fast as standard collegiate quarters…which is why we start a new class group eight times a year here at the Academia, instead of four.” He finished typing in a few more things, then lifted his chin at her. “Hold out your arm so I can scan your ident unit.”

Ia complied, unbuttoning her jacket sleeve once more. “I know; it was one of the few things that gave me enough time to go home to visit my family. Otherwise it would’ve been another year before I got Leave.”

“Where’d you get your Field Commission, anyway?” he asked, setting down the scanner wand.

“The incident on Zubeneschamali.” That was all she needed to say. His eyes widened in recognition.

“Zuben…
you’re
Bloody Mary?” He stared at her as if she had sprouted horns or something.

Ia pulled off her dress cap, revealing the rest of her snow-white hair. She shrugged expressively, setting the cap on top of her kitbag, and gave him a wry smile. “That is my nickname, yes. I’ll admit it’s not very obvious; I haven’t been in a combat zone in a couple months, so I’m fresh out of blood.”

The lieutenant manning the admissions desk hesitated a moment, then leaned forward on the counter and asked in an undertone, “Did you really rip off that K’katta’s leg and beat him with it?”

Ia leaned forward, smiling back at him. This wasn’t the first time someone had asked her that question since the incident at Zubeneschamali, nor would it be the last. “I only
threatened
to rip it off and beat him with it. He wisely decided to surrender, instead.”

“I’ll take your word for it. I’m Lieutenant Chazter,” he added, offering his hand in introduction. “Michael Chazter. So, why the transfer to the Navy? Why not a Marines Academy?”

“I worked well with the crew of the TUPSF
Liu Ji
, and I have the reflexes and spatial coordination to be a pilot. The SF-Navy made sense. Where’s the restroom?” Ia asked him.

“Go out the door, turn left, third door down, can’t miss it,” he stated.

Nodding, Ia left her bags at the registration desk. By the time she came back, three more people had arrived. Two were male and clad in civilian clothes, though their buzz-cropped hair proved they were cadets who had just arrived from Basic Training. The third was also male, but clad in Navy blue dress casuals of navy leather shoes, dark blue slacks, and a lighter blue dress shirt with short sleeves.

Unlike Ia, who was wearing the half glittery required when wearing Dress Browns, the other officer was wearing the absolute minimum required for daily wear, which consisted of the two silver bars of a lieutenant commander, five service ribbons, and his name tag, but no medals. With his grey-streaked dark brown hair cropped almost recruit-short, his face age-lined but graced with a pleasant perpetual ghost of a smile, Lieutenant
Commander Spada looked as confident and knowledgeable as anyone could expect from an Academy training officer.

Since neither of them was wearing a cap and both were indoors planet-side, Ia didn’t salute. She did pull herself up straight, nodding to the older man. “Commander Spada, sir. I’m Cadet Ia, duly registered for the one-year fast-track program, sir.”

Spada nodded, and eyed the large brown case topped with her matching duffel bag and dress cap. “What’s in the box? It’s too small to be a mechsuit.”

“Weight suit, sir. I’m a heavyworlder. My mechsuit should be stored in the Academy’s mechpool. I sent it over two months ago, and did receive confirmation from the Academy on its arrival.”

“That’s right, your file said you’re a heavyworlder. Roll it outside, Cadet. It’s taking up space,” Spada ordered her. “Go wait in the hallway. I’ll be taking all three of you to the dispensary and the dorms in a few minutes.”

“Sir, yes—aye, sir,” Ia complied, grabbing hat, kitbag, and case handle. The other two cadets, both males, had glanced her way in curiosity when the word
heavyworlder
was mentioned. Lieutenant Chazter was still processing them, however, so they reluctantly returned their attention back to the meioa-o behind the counter. Ia knew that wouldn’t be the end of their curiosity, but it was something that would be settled later.

The only thing Ia didn’t know was who her roommate would be. Not that she had seen
who
she would paired with, exactly. Sometimes the timestreams were like that. The faceless crowds found in daily life rarely had any impact or influence on her courses of action. If they weren’t important to the flow of Time, well, Ia had learned to conserve her energies. She didn’t ignore them completely—the incident with Estes and her face-goop came to mind;
that
had been a shock to learn—but mostly they were nothing more than flickers and blurs at the edges of her precognitive awareness. So long as whoever-it-was didn’t threaten her work, their presence or absence was immaterial in the end.

At least now her career path in the Navy had been laid. It would take careful tending, but the next year would be a relative breeze compared to the two that would follow.

AUGUST 25, 2492 T.S.

Hand fumbling out of the covers, Ia slapped at the snooze button on her bedside chrono. It buzzed again. She grumbled and slapped harder; she
knew
she had another seventeen minutes before the slagging thing was supposed to go off. Having stayed awake far too late last night, composing prophetic instructions for the future, she needed every second of sleep she could get.

The noise buzzed again, and the intercom for the door—it
was the doorbell, not her alarm—activated.
“Cadet Ia, this is Lieutenant Commander Spada. You are requested to wake and open this door.”

…Guh—WHAT?
Heart lurching, snapping her mind wide awake, Ia splashed through the waters of her own timestream, floundering in shock. Hauling herself up, dripping with misty, muddied, clueless possibilities, she tried to make sense of the request. The door buzzed again. Scrambling physically as well as mentally, she lurched for the door. Nothing in the timestreams had warned her about this visit last night, and nothing in those same waters
now
warned her about this visit.
God—I
know
I can sense the Future, so I can’t have lost my precognitive senses…can I?

Unlocking the controls, she slapped the door open, pulling herself to Attention as best she could. “Lieutenant Commander, sir!” she managed, doing her best to ignore the fact that she was wearing nothing more than a light blue T-shirt and matching underpants for sleepwear. Heart still thumping, she managed to ask, “Uh…is anything wrong, sir?”

Spada curved his mouth up on one side. “Only that you’re a heavy sleeper, Cadet.”

“Uh…it was a very long day, yesterday, sir.” Blinking, she glanced at the other figure beside the lieutenant commander. Tallish, naturally tanned, and distinctly Asian, the young man at Spada’s side smiled at Ia. She could tell he was trying not to let his gaze dip below her face to the obvious, if muscular curves of her heavyworlder figure, and warded off an unusual urge to blush. Returning her gaze to the training officer, Ia asked hesitantly, “
Ah
…sir?”

“This is your new roommate. Your psych profile says you don’t care about sharing quarters with the meioa-os as well as the meioa-es…and since we have more males entering the Academia right now than females,” Spada elaborated with a shrug, “you get a male roommate. I trust that isn’t going to be a problem, Cadet?”

Now
her precognitive senses twitched, warning her that Spada was going to keep an eye on Ia in this matter, in case Ia turned out to be one of those sorts who insisted on making a fuss over every little thing. But…eerily…Ia could sense
nothing
about the black-haired, brown-eyed, moon-faced young man smiling wryly at her. Unsure how to handle the peculiarity of his non-ish
existence, Ia sagged back onto her only, and therefore best, guess: Treat the moment with proper military protocols in mind.

“Sir, yes, sir,” she agreed, stepping back from the doorway. “I mean, aye, sir, I don’t mind, sir.”

Nodding, Lieutenant Commander Spada gestured for the blue-clad cadet to enter. Hefting his kitbag onto his shoulder, he stepped inside as the commander spoke. “Cadet Ia, meet Cadet Meyun Harper. Harper, this is Ia. You’re both heavyworlders, though Harper is from Dabin, and you’re from Sanctuary. Harper here is on the same one-year fast-track program as you, Cadet. However, he’s aimed more at a career in Logistics and/or Engineering, whereas you’ve indicated an interest in Piloting and/or Combat Command.

“Regardless of any philosophical differences you may have in the classroom regarding your majors, gentlemeioas, you will be expected to get along just fine all the same,” Spada warned both of them. “Don’t forget to report for breakfast by no later than 0700 local. You’ll have a long day ahead of you. Your first class in the accelerated curriculum starts at 0730 in room 202 of the Sodré Building. Good morning, and don’t be late.”

“No, sir,” Ia promised. “I won’t be late, sir.”

Spada started to reach for the door controls, then paused and asked, “Cadet Ia…why did you feel it was necessary to engage the privacy lock?”

“I…think I just did it out of habit, sir. I guess I just feel more secure behind a locked door,” Ia managed to suggest. The real reason was that she hadn’t wanted anyone to surprise her while she was busy writing precognitive missives. Instead, she improvised a plausible alternative: “You know…after having spent so many tours of duty in a combat zone.”

“Well. Just remember that, one, you are required to unlock and open your quarters to myself or any other superior officer stationed at this Academy, leaving them available for inspection at any time of day or night. And two…there will be no fraternizing of an intimate nature between cadets while you are at this Academy.”

“Trust me, sir, that won’t be a problem,” Ia muttered. No way was she even going to
touch
the man behind her, not even casually. Not until she figured out
why
she couldn’t sense him.