The Methuselan Circuit (15 page)

A fleeting spasm of guilt struck Alexander right in the gut. A year’s worth of food and power was a lot. Was it too much to ask that he spend twenty minutes before he went to sleep to take care of it? To his surprise, however, his uniform was as crisp and clean as when it was issued. Alexander lifted the pearlescent material—he couldn’t remember what the stuff was called—and he sniffed the chest. To his surprise there was no scent and no trace of vomit. The uniform was clean, sparkling clean and pressed so that every crease was almost knife edge sharp. “What’s up, my uniform was a mess when I got in last night. Do we have robots that pick them up while we sleep?”

James chuckled and pointed to a small placard on the inside of the locker door. It read,
Hang your uniform on the hanger, not the hook, or the automatic cleaner will not be effective, Regulation 7-3-10.32
.

Alexander sighed as he reached for his kit. “I guess that’s why Mom kept bugging me to hang my things up, heaven help my sister; she doesn’t know what a hanger is.” His locker had a built in cleaner. All he had to do was hang up the uniform properly as the locker had directed him; the locker was apparently very adamant about doing its job correctly.

“How did it go,” James asked sleepily. “Did the Golkos kid give you any grief?”

Alexander shook his head, and replied, “No, he wasn’t a problem. He’s not the friendly type though, that’s for sure, I mean he only tried to kill me once.”

“What stopped him,” James asked.

“He’s afraid of ghosts.”

James laughed and scratched his head. “Don’t turn your back on him no matter how he acts,” he mumbled. “I’ve heard a lot of things about the Golkos—none of them good. Dad had a sore spot for them, though he never said why.” He pulled on his boots and closed his locker which was the third in a bank of three set across from their bunks. The lockers actually formed the bulkhead between their three bunks and the bunks to their starboard—Alexander was trying to think in space lingo—just as the bulkhead on their port side was made up of lockers from the next row of bunks.

“Come on, you were on the
Iowa,
that’s history!”

Alexander was surprised that James would be interested in history of all things, but he seemed sincere about it. “Think of it,” he said with suppressed excitement. “Alexander himself fought on that deck! He even recorded a hologram on the bridge, kind of his own epitaph, because everyone else was dead. He didn’t know whether he’d won or lost the Battle for Terra, but he recorded a last message of defiance to the galaxy.”

“I know, I saw the hologram,” Alexander told him. When James’s mouth hung open, he added, “It was pretty amazing. It came on all by itself. There’s still power to the ship, plasma arcs, gas discharges; it’s almost like the battle just ended, only it never quite does.”

Alexander lowered his voice. “Have you ever heard of anything, you know, strange about the
Iowa?
” When James shook his head, Alexander told him about what happened.

“You’re kidding,” he replied, twisting his face up in disbelief.

The door to the latrine slid open and they entered a metal room with a bank of sinks on one side and the latrines on the other. At the far end was a metal cave that served as a shower. There was no privacy whatsoever, excepting that the boys and girls were separated. Modesty, they’d been told, was a luxury no one in the Service could afford.

They saw to their business, and Alexander, to take his mind off his embarrassment, mused, “It wasn’t just our guys but the Golkos as well. They can be ghosts too; I’d never really thought about that before.”

“It’s just a hologram,” one of the other boys said sourly. “You guys are gullible, falling for that. They’re just doing that to freak you out.”

“If they were then they got Khandar too,” Alexander insisted. His expression turned resentful. “I can’t see a Golkos and rival acting the way he did in front of me unless it was for real.”

“He wouldn’t have,” James said with surety. “A Golkos never shows fear, especially in front of any enemy. I was talking with his Flight buddy while we were waiting for you.”

“Thanks for reminding me,” Alexander said unhappily. He meant it. The Academy was tough enough without that to worry him. He brushed his teeth and headed back to the locker. In a few moments he’d hung his pajamas on the same hanger his uniform was on and he was dressed and ready to go. He scooped up his compad and joined the rest of the flight, including Treya and Lisa, as they made their way to the mess hall.

Breakfast at the Academy was a noisy affair more than anything else. Alexander looked forward to breakfast, but this morning he hardly had a chance to eat. Everyone wanted to hear about his night watch on the
Iowa
and about Khandar. He was on his third telling of the story and by this point he’d addressed the Golkos sufficiently to convince himself it was a great deal of fuss about nothing, when the Golkos cadet showed up at the table along with a couple of his class mates.

“Hello Khandar,” said Alexander, trying to be polite. “I was just telling everyone about our adventure last night.”

The Golkos cadet glared at Alexander, his eyes turning red with obvious anger. “Don’t be so smug, Wolfe! Just because we stood watch together doesn’t mean I’ll forget or forgive a blood debt.”

“Blood debt, what do you mean?” Alexander stammered.

“Don’t insult me with your ignorance!” the Golkos spat. “You know what I mean; if you don’t, you’ll know soon enough.”

“Is there a problem here Khandar?” It was another cadet, a tawny haired girl about fifteen or sixteen years old. Her large almond eyes were hard, staring at the Golkos cadet. Her button nose flared out and her full lips turned down in an angry way. She approached the Golkos followed by two rather brawny cadets and she planted herself right in front of him. He glared back, but she was equally as tall and because she was a Terran, she was bigger than he was. Thrusting her chin forward and planting her fists on her hips, she demanded, “Khandar, are you bothering one of our Kilo classmates for a reason or is this just another example of Golkos charm?”

“Don’t interfere, I’ve a blood debt with this Terran—this goes beyond the Academy!” Khandar was obviously not pleased at the interruption, and the three boys next to him took up positions facing the other cadets. The situation looked tense, but the upper classman just laughed.

“Beyond the Academy; you’ve got to be kidding!” She stopped laughing and glared at the Golkos. “If you want to mess with one of our newbies then you’ll have all of Kilo flight after you, just consider that.”

Khandar didn’t back down, but smiled in a feral manner. “So much the better, the little whelp is hardly worth my time. If you’re going to make it a challenge then that just adds spice to the hunt!” He grinned at Alexander, revealing his long vampire-like fangs. “Watch your back Wolfe, because I surely will be there!”

Khandar left with his classmates.

“Thanks!” Alexander told the girl and her friends.

“I’m Hawker, Jenny Hawker, Kilo class of 2203.” She held out her hand. “I heard you were on station. Welcome to Kilo flight!” She pointed her thumb at Khandar. “You sure know how to pick your friends. The Golkos are sneaky. Do as he says: watch your back. They have long memories and if they feel slighted or have a blood debt, even if it’s between relatives, they don’t care much about the rules. Let us know if he gives you any more grief.”

“Thanks again,” Alexander said, glad that some of the older cadets took an interest in him, but wondering about it just the same.

Hawker turned to go, but stopped short. “Do you think your dad is going to visit the station?”

“I don’t know why he would; he’s retired now and I don’t think they’ll let him dock his freighter here,” he replied reflexively. He had no idea what prompted her to ask.

“Just wondering,” she said, as if mulling something over in her head. “It’s cool with me; I don’t have a beef with it. If he does stop by will you tell me? My dad knew your dad, and I’d like to say hi and thank you, that’s all.”

“Thank you, why,” Alexander asked, mystified.

“Your dad is the reason I’m here. He saved my dad on Tantalus IV. He was a settler and well, you’ve probably heard the story a bunch of times, so I won’t bore you.” She smiled and patted him on the back. “Let me know if you need anything, see you around!”

“How do you know her?” asked Lisa and Treya together, not too happy about the older girl and her familiarity with Alexander.

“I don’t,” he insisted, “but this is getting weird. Everyone seems to know something about my dad but me.”

“Well we better find out about it,” Lisa told him. She took out her compad and looked at their schedule for the day. “We have Study Hall in the library between Space Physiology and Space Physics. I think we better try and find out what all this is about.”

Study Hall couldn’t come soon enough for Alexander. He had trouble paying attention to Professor Cantor in Space Physiology, but then so did everyone else. The professor’s academic manner was dry and monotonous, excepting the occasions where he had particularly gruesome or exciting subject matter. He appeared to enjoy lulling them to the point of sleep and then waking them up with something juicy. Today it was the self-sealing properties of their uniforms when penetrated by various blasters and debris. It would have been boring if the professor used test suits and the like, but the Academy had more than enough combat video to make the impression he was after.

The Academy library looked like anything but a library. There were no books, no trestle tables with uncomfortable chairs—nothing like what he grew up with. It was row upon row of cubicles and computer screens. There were half a dozen holographic projectors where large star maps or videos could be shown to groups of cadets. Otherwise, there wasn’t much else to see. There were no windows, no pictures, nothing—only silence strictly enforced by one of the academic officers. Seating himself in a cubicle next to his friends, Alexander typed in his father’s name. A picture of his father from about twenty years ago appeared on the screen. Alexander couldn’t help but smile. His dad looked very serious back then, amusingly so, but there wasn’t much more information. The general file supplied his service dates, his ships, he served on the
Enterprise
and the
Lincoln
, his decorations, there were many, and the summation:
Honorably discharged to active reserve after twenty-two years of service.
That was strange. The standard tour of duty was fifty years thanks to Galactic regeneration techniques. What could have prompted an early discharge? A flash of fear hit Alexander in the gut. Had his father truly done something, something that could have gotten him kicked out of the Service? He checked again. No, it said quite specifically
Honorable Discharge.
Was it perhaps medical? At the bottom of the page there was an icon that read,
Service Record
.

Alexander touched the icon, but the screen flashed red.
Classified, Access Restricted.

He backed out of the page and tried a general search under his father’s name. There was nothing. He went back to the service record and cross referenced the decorations with the ships. There was a pause, and then, much to his satisfaction, a list of files appeared on the screen. Alexander smiled at his own cleverness and touched the first file.

Classified, Access Restricted.

He touched the second.

Classified, Access Restricted.

The third, fourth and fifth were all the same. He went down the list. Then he thought, “What about the incident with Cadet Hawker’s dad?” He typed in “Tantalus IV” and finally got a short paragraph. It wasn’t much.

Terran Destroyer John Paul Jones disabled near Tantalus IV. The crew was marooned on the planet and attacked by the inhabitants, a Terran colony that had severed ties with the Terran Empire during the Caliphate Wars. Apparently the majority of inhabitants had Fanatic ties and had subjugated all other Terran settlers. The crew of the John Paul Jones was taken into custody and suffered several casualties before being rescued. The Fanatic problem was dealt with. The enslaved settlers took over administration of the planet and returned to full membership in the Terran Empire.

There was a link at the bottom of the paragraph, but like everything else it read,
Classified, Access Restricted
as soon as he touched it. Everything, it appeared, related to his father was classified. Alexander sat back, frustrated, wondering what to do next. To his surprise, the lists disappeared and a face appeared on the screen. His first thought was that he was in trouble, big trouble, and he sprang bolt upright. It was only then that realized the face didn’t belong to an officer of the Fleet or the Legions. In fact, it was the face of a girl and he knew her.