Sirius Academy (Jezebel's Ladder) (32 page)

Friday afternoon, on the ‘emergency’ trip to Sydney, Mira and Zeiss practiced the odd call-and-response pattern that crews used, recording
everything for later analysis. Their rhythm evolved. They were flying lower
than normal so that he could feel the dolphins and whales they passed and call
in pod coordinates.

“Thunderheads,” he called. “Adjust
heading approximately 15.5 degrees north.”

She chuckled, taking the craft up a
little to anticipate the choppy air. “15.5 degrees north. I wouldn’t call that
approximate.”

“I didn’t adjust for crosswinds and
the geodesic but at this speed we’d be off by more if I waited to compute the
precise value. 15.59 exact.”

“15.59 exact,” she echoed, making
the adjustment.

“I appreciate your patience, Mira.
I’m new at this, but I think we’ll make good partners.”

She smiled. “I’m not used to people
calling me that anymore.”

“Do you need me to call you Red in
public for your cover?”

“No. I like when you use my name.”

After several minutes of silence,
Mira said, “Daniel told me you had some ideas to change the composition of the
team based on your dissertation. Would you care to discuss them with me like
adults rather than trying to trick me into doing them?”

“What’s the current gender balance
of our Sirius team?” he asked.

“Well, assuming you don’t piss me off
too much, I suppose I have to keep you onboard. You’re the only Quantum Computer
the Academy has, and Lou said he’d join if we aced leadership training. That
makes ten men and three women. Why?”

“Well . . . if we don’t come back
from the trip for twenty years, we’re going to want the balance of the genders
more even. You know, for . . . group harmony.”

“So now we’re the Love Boat? Toby
and Yvette didn’t work out.”

“Yet. And there are still seven
other guys she might choose. I don’t promise other people eternity, just
opportunity.”

“And how do you suggest we provide
this
opportunity
to others? I’m not lowering my standards for team
members.”

“I’m only asking you to widen the
pool. Recruit professional women with appropriate scientific and military
experience. Start with those from classes that have graduated.”

“Isn’t that pimping?”

“Pandering? No. I’m giving them a
chance to be happy like we are. You can use the same search algorithms; just
include the forty-two women who already made the cut for the mission.”

“Wait; there have been about eight
graduating teams of over thirty each. The number of women seems awfully low.”

“That’s one sixth of the total. Military
team leaders don’t tend to pick women. Not counting the one I ‘forced’ you to
take, your team only had one in nine.”

“Are you saying I’m more sexist
than the mils?” Mira asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Your team has noted that you’re
more
competitive
than normal in that area.”

“Oh my God, you think I’m a bitch.”

“No, it’s natural queen-bee
behavior. Kaguya had the same—”

“Do
not
finish that
sentence.”

“That trawler down there looks
suspicious,” he said over the radio, adding coordinates.

“Don’t try to change the subject,”
Red fumed. “You just called me—”

“Chilean registry,” Sirius Control
announced. “They have a large Antarctic claim.”

“There are flashes on the deck. I
say we run a missile drill, just in case,” Zeiss announced.

Setting her jaw, Red gunned the
engines and sent the craft into an evasion tumble. Her navigator made a queasy
hiccough sound, causing her to grin in satisfaction. Alarms started to whir.
Her hands busied themselves compensating and attempting to launch
countermeasures. “Only one of the decoy packages deployed,” she said, voice
cracking.

An explosion followed. Concussive
air forces made the ship buck as shrapnel peppered the hull. More alarms
flashed.

“Sometimes one’s enough,” he said.
“Good job.”

She took the craft down near the
water’s surface to confuse enemy radar as she looked for red lights on the
panel. “Options if they launch again?”

“Eject the copilot chair as bait?”
Zeiss suggested.

“Then we’d have to eject, too,” she
countered. “It’d be too much drag, too far from shore.”

“Blow the Cassavettis drive mounts,”
he suggested. There was a steel pole atop the craft that went from the front of
the ship past the rear where the star drives would mount. Every pilot hated the
rod because it cost extra fuel and tangled anything close. However, the school
insisted on keeping the metal albatross because the drives were so expensive
and mission-critical that pilots had to be aware of them at all times. As part
of their plan to jettison the drives on Sirius landing, Red had convinced Smith
to add an emergency disconnect switch for the mount pole.

“Engine two is out of true,” Red interrupted.
“It’s vibrating. Help me find the shutdown.”

Zeiss unclipped to hop over to the
copilot chair just as the ship shuddered again. She managed to keep them out of
the water, but he slipped and banged his helmet on the overhead. Without
pausing to complain, he hunted for the proper control. Over his headphone,
Sirius Control was feeding him instructions. “Roger,” he called, punching the
fuel shutoff. “We’re smoking like a pile of wet leaves, but Red’s holding.”

Returning to his station, Zeiss
announced, “Grav and thermal sensors identified the weapon as an Iranian-made,
shoulder-mount, surface-to-air, nothing major. They’re out of range now. Tell
Starlet to avoid.”

“Confirmed,” Control answered. “Starlet
will avoid the flash bulbs. I’d hate to meet what you view as major, Z-man.”

Red raised an eyebrow at his
protective streak for her grandmother, but complained, “It’d be nice if the
sensors told us what it was
before
it hit.”

Tapping a few controls, Zeiss
announced, “Sydney’s a bit far. I suggest we re-vector to Christ Church Airport,
New Zealand.”

“Your call, Z-man,” Red said distracted
by a dozen minor emergencies.

“Dunedin is a little closer,” noted
Sirius Control.

“Their tarmac will melt when we aim
our jets down, and they don’t have the foam trucks for the belly slide if our
landing gear jams,” Zeiss asserted. “We might be able to land at Pegasus base;
they have VTO repair facilities.”

“Good call, Z-man,” answered
Control.

“ETA thirty-two . . . no,
thirty-three minutes,” he said, reciting the heading change.

“We’ll make reservations for you
with the NZ authorities,” Control promised. “They’ll find you a safe place to
bunk till
Half-Pint
is cleared to fly.”

Red was sweating profusely but
maintaining their course.

“You’ve got this ride under
control,” Zeiss encouraged. “I’m going to head back to check the passenger
compartment for holes.”

“You’re staying right there,
Mister,” she ordered, pale with fear.

“Do you need sugar or fluids?” he
asked.

“No. Just moral support.”

“Roger. Switching to private mode,
Control.”

In fifteen minutes, they received instructions
from the New Zealand authorities for their emergency landing. Zeiss handled all
the radio chatter, including a welcome for their military jet escorts. Red had
her hands full of ornery controls. She was surprised when she overheard Control
saying, “Incident report received Z-man. We’ll forward your remedies to the
review board, but I disagree with your root-cause analysis. In this case, you
were the solution not the problem.”

“My report stands, Control. I
signed the override for the preflight. We had no copilot and insufficient
counter-measure equipment.”

“Starlet signed, too,” reported
Control. “She has a message for you. Auckland’s parents will bring you the
package tomorrow. Good luck with the mission.”

“What mission?” Red demanded.

“After we land,” he told her. “ETA
fifteen.”

“Now,” she demanded. “Are you still
working spy stuff?”

“No,” he said, calmly. “Trust me
for a few minutes.”

“I more than trust you; I rely on
you in life-or-death situations. I just need to know.”

“Not on the air,” he reminded.

“Privacy mode,” she called,
switching off. When he did likewise, she asked, “Ultimately, who do you
support, me or the UN?”

“Why? Are you planning to break a
law?” he joked.

“The only law I’m breaking is the
reason we were founded—to complete the mission to Sirius.”

“You already know the answer or you
wouldn’t have asked.”

“A lady always asks, gives an
opportunity for graceful refusal.”

“Correction: beautiful, talented
lady.”

“You’ll get your kiss when we land.
I need a direct answer.”

“I couldn’t refuse you anything.” His
tone was so soft and sincere she risked a glance in his direction.

“I love you,” she said. “I can’t
imagine a time I wouldn’t need you by my side. This experience just reminded me
that we could die at any time, even before the mission. I don’t want to wait
anymore. Marry me today.”

“We can’t do it today,” he said
with a smile.

The craft wobbled for a moment
before she countered, “Daniel knows the chief magistrate. He can arrange it.”

“No,” Zeiss explained. “The rings
won’t arrive until tomorrow.”

“What?”

“Our rings are in the package that
Claudette and I arranged. This whole trip was rigged so I could propose in some
romantic location.”

Her smile couldn’t get much bigger.

“So what you meant to say was ‘yes,
captain, sir, please?’”

“Do you want that engraved on your
ring?”

“I want it engraved on my neck,
tonight,” she said, throatily.

“Yes, captain, sir, please,” he
said with a swallow.

Over the radio, she broadcast, “Hah,
Control, I asked him first!”

“Can we say competitive?” Zeiss mumbled
as the people in the Academy control room wished them well. His smile couldn’t
get bigger either. “Don’t you want to go to Kangaroo Island or those amethyst
fields? Someplace exotic?”

Forgetting to hit the privacy switch,
she answered, “I only brought food for three meals. If you want exotic, you can
make Tasmanian Devil sounds again while you attack me.”

Control burst out laughing. Red’s
ears turned pink as the island air-traffic controller said, “Z-man, sounds like
we’re going to have to change your call sign to ‘Taz’.”

Red’s team, Auckland’s parents, Trina, and Claudette made it
to the wedding; however, Daniel couldn’t travel that far from the island. Red
immediately asked Sonrisa to be her maid of honor and decreed everyone would
wear their flight suits. “It’s an astronaut wedding; it should look like one.” The
girls disappeared to work on Red’s hair, which was abnormally disheveled.

Zeiss stood between Herkemer and
Sojiro. “To be honest, I was planning to ask Professor Sorenson so I wouldn’t
have to make this decision. Guys, who should I pick to be my best man?”

Sojiro spoke up first. “Let me do
the video. Herk can stand up by his lady.”

The groom clapped the Japanese
student on the back in thanks.

The Polish bomb disposal tech
raised an eyebrow when he saw his friend from the side. “Z, did you know you’ve
got a hickey on your neck?”

When he reached to cover it,
everyone laughed. “Don’t worry,” Herk said. “I’ll get some makeup from Horvath;
she’s close to your coloring.”

“Done this before, have we?” asked
Zeiss, embarrassing him back.

Herk cleared his throat. “Where’s
the ring?”

“Um . . . Mira loves hers and didn’t
want to take it off,” the groom whispered. “She claims the captain of a ship can
perform the ceremony, so she declared it yesterday. This show is for you guys.”

“You’re kidding, and you let her?”

“Near-death experiences really
shake her up. We slept in the same bed but didn’t . . . I told her we needed to
get some advice from Trina and Yvette about the first time.”

“You could’ve asked me, Z.”

The groom laughed. “Try that
conversation over the island air-traffic radio. That’d be on Facebook next. I
thought you and Risa were going to wait.”

“She is . . . I’ve visited a few football
bleachers and bars in my day. Risa knows about it.”

“I’ll get some good vodka and then you
can advise me on some specialized problems.”

Herk nodded. “Are you taking a week
off?”

Zeiss shook his head. “She doesn’t
want to miss class. Nothing gets in the way of the mission; you know that.”

“No money?” Herk deduced
incorrectly. “We can take up a collection.”

“I’m actually good. I got a
consulting contract recently. Since I didn’t have time to get you a present,
let me buy Risa’s plane ticket to visit your folks.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Her folks paid for your ticket.
You can’t afford hers on your savings.”

“Z, it wouldn’t be right.”

“Fortune Aerospace gave me a
signing bonus this week—six figures. I figure you deserve a share for all the
hours looking after Red for me.”

Herk’s face broke out in a grin. “You
talked me into it. All we got you was a lousy T-shirt. It has your new call
sign on it.”

“Great,” Zeiss said, drawing out
the word with sarcasm.

“Oh. If you’re riding back with us,
you need to finagle seats and get someone to volunteer to babysit the
Half-Pint
.”

“I’ll invite the mail plane crew
and buy a keg,” the groom said. “Go; get my makeup. We’ll be watching this
video together every June for years.”

Mira turned off her media fogger
for the brief ceremony. When Zeiss saw her come into the chapel with baby’s
breath in her hair, he said, “I do.”

“Not yet,” Herk hissed.

The groom’s rapt attention made
Mira glow.

After the ceremony, Trina had to
slap a security seal on the wedding license because Mira signed her birth name
in big letters. The bride hadn’t decided what last name to use yet; she had so
many to choose from.

****

Sunday, Zeiss wore the new Taz T-shirt
back to the island, to much cheering as they deplaned. Mira didn’t talk much;
she just leaned against him, their auras humming together. As they walked past
the maintenance crew, the bride received several appreciative whistles, which
made her blush. “It’s the dress and the hair,” she said.

“Seriously, you could have your own
theme song, too,” Sojiro said.

“‘Shine,’” suggested Zeiss, and she
smiled.

Daniel greeted them in the tunnel,
beside Jezebel’s star. He handed the bride and the groom each a new badge.
“Congratulations. You’re the first occupants of the new married student housing.”

Zeiss shook his hand. “Thanks—for
everything.”

“Family,” Daniel said. After Mira
hugged her uncle, he reaffirmed, “You are shining. We’re all happy for you.”

****

Classes became a blur for the
couple. Conrad spent most of his time staring longingly at her in the next
chair. Instructors tried to catch him off-guard, but he could always recite the
last paragraph. In Program Management class, he added, “But it won’t ship on
time because you don’t start testing until it’s too late to fix the problems.”

During the class on Sun-Tzu, Professor
Rogers asked, “What is the true purpose of a soldier?”

Most people asserted something
along the lines of, “Killing who your boss tells you to.”

Conrad listened. When everyone else
had given their opinion, he said, “Most of a soldier’s time should be spent preventing
war. When war is imminent, he should plan for every eventuality. However, when
war is declared, it is a soldier’s duty to end it as quickly as possible so
that he may return to his primary calling.” Rogers debated him for the
remainder of the hour, but the former TA quoted from the warlord’s writings to
support every point.

As the class rose to leave, Rogers called Conrad to his desk. “You don’t talk much.”

“I don’t want to monopolize the
time. Other people need to learn.”

“You’re bored?” asked the
instructor.

“I plan. This semester, during your
class, I’ve designed a variation on the media-blocker virus to detonate
warheads before they hit. I also sent air-traffic a set of path-randomizing
algorithms to keep the enemy guessing but still enable us to find our people if
they splash.”

Rogers blinked. “Is that all?”

“Actually, those are the easy
problems. I’m also trying to redesign the round pods to fit my wife’s enormous
square freezer. The most difficult puzzle is deciding what Fortune Multimedia
can develop now for TV shows, educational software, and other products to ease
the economic earthquake that’s coming. That’s really Mira’s pet project, but
I’m trying to help because we do things together.”

The instructor hesitated. “You
missed a test while you were out. I think you’ve had enough time to catch up. Do
you have a couple hours now?”

Zeiss nodded and sent Mira home to
eat without him. Rogers gave him a pad and he answered questions for another
hour. When the navigator student turned his answers in, the instructor said,
“Normally this takes longer. Are you sure you don’t want more time?”

“No. I have a good memory, even
better since I became Active.”

The instructor hit autoscore for
the first few sections and then read the essay. “You pass the course, better
than my score when I took it. Congratulations, you’re a lieutenant.”

“What? No. I
want
to come to
class,” Zeiss objected.

“Stow it. You’re doing a small-team
tactics independent study with Horvath the rest of the semester. I hear you
suck with guns, but you’ve got a good mind for strategy. You’re wasting
everybody’s time here, Conrad.”

Later that day, in the men’s
changing room, Red’s team prepared for an underwater-repair drill on the model
space ship. The women regularly suited up with the men to save time and
increase group safety. Herkemer discussed possible restructuring of the
Half-Pint
.
“To get more fuel, we could use the warning beacon’s fuel tank from the L
point.”

Zeiss blinked a few times as he computed.
“It has the capacity, but slowing down would cost us time on the run. We’d have
to fake a repair. How long would it take to do the cannibalism extra-vehicular?”

“For Herk alone, an hour and a half,”
Risa estimated.

Zeiss winced. “How many people can
we get outside?”

“Five of us are EV rated. We can
fit three through the airlock at a time,” Risa replied.

“If we can get six wrenches,
eighteen minutes?” Zeiss guessed. “That’s still a lot of acting and remote
sensors to disable. I’m not saying no, but we’re going to have more problems to
solve.”

Red snuck into the changing room;
only Toby squealed. “I’m not looking at yours,” she replied. To her husband, she
said, “Did everything go okay with Rogers?”

He ran a hand over his neck. “I
can’t be in class anymore. I have to take some special remedial thing with
Trina.”

Her eyes flashed. “Advanced Small-Group
Tactics?”

“Yeah,” he admitted sullenly.

“That’s fantastic. You’ll get to
design the anti-terrorism drills for the freshmen next year. You’ll be the new
nightmare for lowerclassmen; that’s so cool! When will they let you take the lieutenant’s
exam?”

“He gave me my bars already,” Zeiss
mumbled.

Herk overheard and picked him off
his feet in a hug. “Fantastic! Beers on you, again. I’ll tell the others.”

“I’m sorry,” Zeiss apologized when
the enthusiastic bomb technician left. “I’m a professional student. I’m good at
tests.”

She stroked his face. “It’s okay.
Never be ashamed of success. Our team gets the points.”

“You’re not mad that I got the rank
first?”

“No. I’ve already had Trina’s
advanced training. This means we’ll be able to take more classes together next
semester.”

He smiled. “Definitely.”

****

When Zeiss showed up at Daniel’s
door the next morning, the billionaire said, “Conrad, you don’t have to do
this. You don’t work for me.”

“I want to spend time with our
uncle,” Zeiss replied.

Daniel smiled. “You want advice.”

“Red wants to work out with me in
martial arts, but I don’t want her to get hurt. The last couple times we
sparred, I ended up in the clinic.”

“Yeah. Make her the teacher,” Daniel
suggested.

“What?”

“You’ve been the mentor for the
first two years. It’s been an unbalanced relationship. What she’s really asking
for is a chance to be in the lead.”

“I don’t know.”

“Right now, you have to
guess
what she needs. How much of your time does that take?”

“Most of it.”

“If you let her tell you and
listen, won’t that save you time?” Daniel asked. When Zeiss didn’t respond, he
added, “She’s got a decade of experience on you in both quantum talents and
fighting. You said it yourself the day you met her—she’s world class. Don’t
worry about injury; it’s the teacher’s responsibility to protect and challenge
the student.”

“This is going to feel weird.”

“After I have a stretch and soak in
the whirlpool, we can all head to the small dojo this morning. Trina and I can help
the two of you through the first few lessons.”

“What incentive do I have for
working out that long twice each morning?” asked Zeiss.

“The showers are built for two and
the doors lock.”

“That’s . . . convenient.”

Daniel sent messages to the women
to meet them in the dojo. Mira was bouncing with excitement at the family
event. After the workout, the dojo was too crowded for romance, and Zeiss wasn’t
in the mood for more analysis of his fighting technique. He limped home alone to
shower and change.

As Zeiss came out of the communal shower,
wrapped in a towel, he heard the door click. Since they were the only couple on
the floor for the next week and access required a red badge, he assumed it was
his bride. He shouted, “You’ve already exhausted me, woman. Give a man a chance
to re-hydrate. Besides you have a quiz . . .” He stopped when he saw the angry,
gray-haired woman in the entry foyer. Seeing the red badge, he deduced, “Ms.
Ramsey.” This was Mira’s dreaded biological grandmother, the one she had
sacrificed her corporate votes to escape.

“Given the circumstances, Conrad, I
think you can call me Rebecca.” She closed the door behind her.

“Um . . . come in, make yourself at
home. I’m going to change. Mira will be back after her class. Would you like
tea?”

She inspected the rattan furniture
and reluctantly seated herself. “The people of the island speak highly of you.
Everyone knew where to find you.”

“Yeah. Everyone liked the party.
Can I change?” He gave a crooked half-smile as he gestured to the towel.

“Who are you to my granddaughter?”

“I think she should tell you.”

“I’m asking
you
.”

“I’m her team navigator and husband.”

“She doesn’t need some boy-toy
holding her back. How much to get it annulled?”

“The tea’s in that cabinet. I’ll
get cookies out of the safe when I come back,” he said, stepping into his
bedroom.

When he returned in his interview
suit, Grandma Rebecca was reading her computer pad. She glanced at the outfit
and nodded her approval. “I searched your history,” she announced, making him
wince. “Half the entries said you’re an Einstein, and the other half painted
you as Don Juan. Which is it?”

“Neither, ma’am. Your granddaughter
is the only one for me. With her gifts, she can vouch for that.”

She crossed her arms. “Your
clearance level is higher than mine. Why?”

“I have a UN military rank.”

“No, the company clearance.”

“I couldn’t say.”

“I’m a board member.”

“Not anymore, ma’am,” he said,
offering a cookie. She blinked. As the wife of a powerful congressman, she was
unaccustomed to blunt truth. He gave her another dose. “Which is probably how
you tripped to Mira’s deception. You visited Paris to barter for more time with
her proxy and found the wrong girl.”

Stone-faced, Rebecca studied him. “I
wanted to wish Miracle a happy birthday and found Mary.”