Authors: Bennett R. Coles
They were moving quickly, objects wisping past. The objects started to fall away from her, until eventually she could make out the shapes of buildings and city blocks, and even cars moving beneath them.
he admitted.
Suddenly the phantom world around her lit up, with military standard labels overlaid across key landmarks. All at once she recognized where she was. That was the grocery, and over there was Merje’s favorite purse and bag store. It was like flying thirty meters over the city on a foggy night—and ahead of them was a familiar shape
Her apartment building.
She almost made a smartass remark, then reached down through the blackness, and felt the pistol grip exactly where it was supposed to be.
Their rate of approach slowed, but Chang didn’t falter as they passed right through the outer wall. They came to rest in what she knew was her living room, although all she could see were dim shapes around her.
he said.
Ghostly images faded to black. For a moment she saw nothing, then a faint impression of her living room grew from nothing into full size around her. The gray light brightened, color appeared, she felt her feet touch the floor. There was a rush of air pressure against her and Chang’s arm dropped away. Pulling out her weapon, she instinctively stepped forward into a crouch. Over the barrel of the pistol she scanned the entire room, darting forward to sweep into the bedroom and ensuite. When she emerged, Chang had searched the main bathroom and front hall.
He looked over at her.
He moved into the kitchen, opening the fridge.
She honestly wasn’t sure.
He checked the milk.
Despite her decision to give up her previous life and live for the State, she felt a rush of personal outrage at the idea of someone squatting in her home. She started poking through the pile of clothes.
He searched the kitchen while she nosed through the various personal items in the living room. At a glance she guessed there was more than one person staying here. Then she spotted a bronze, horseshoe-shaped object lying next to a clear patch of floor. Furniture had been moved to make space, she noticed, and nothing else lay near it.
Chang approached cautiously, studying the object, tapping his helmet on several occasions in what Katja assumed was activating some manual control, much as she’d used infra-red and quantum-flux to confirm Admiral Bush’s lecherous activities.
She stepped closer, judging whether she should pick it up or not. The open end of the horseshoe was closest to her, and she glanced around for a long object to poke it with.
There was a sudden, tiny flash and Katja leapt back. The air above the object shimmered, and a man appeared in front of her. He was dressed in regular civilian clothes and his young, smooth face froze in shock as he stared at her.
Her weapon was up and firing before she even realized. The low-explosive bullets punctured his body and splattered his innards inside of his skin. Ugly bulges rippled his clothing as he toppled backward. She lunged and pulled him away from the horseshoe object.
Chang was in a combat stance, his weapon raised in readiness at the spot where the young man had appeared, Katja focused on hauling his body clear and rapidly searched his pockets. Nothing.
She looked up.
Entering what she had once hoped would become her inner sanctum, she began a detailed sweep, recognizing its desecration by the Centauri. Inside the closet there were suits of body armor, and the drawers opened to reveal small arms. No sources of identification, but she estimated at least half a dozen people were using her apartment as a staging ground.
She re-entered the living room. Chang was still guarding what could only be a tiny jump gate.
Chang nodded, holstered his weapon, and grabbed the Centauri body in one arm. Thanks to the low-explosive rounds, there was minimal blood—about as much as a minor puncture—so the carpet was clear.
He offered her his free hand.
Not wanting to show any more weakness in front of her former sergeant, she took a firm grip of his hand and kept her distance. She nodded toward the body under his arm.
She suppressed a shudder, but the colder part of her brain agreed with the brutal simplicity of his plan.
As her apartment faded away into the ghostly shapes inherent to the Bulk, and she moved displaced through the regular three dimensions, her thinking began to coalesce around what they knew. She hoped Korolev and the team would have discovered even more by the time they returned, but a plan was forming in her mind, drawing on disparate elements that were all connected. It would involve people she knew well. Her father would be pleased. Jack Mallory would be willing.
Most of all, Thomas Kane would be destroyed.
“Lieutenant Commander Kane.”
Thomas rose as the presiding officer addressed him. The hearing had been relatively short, with a generic military lawyer representing the charges against him, and Merje Emmes responding with what he thought was an excellent defense. Not that there was much to defend. He hadn’t been the one sabotaging the research.
An expeditionary force commander was scheduled to preside over the proceedings, but she had been summoned to Astral Base One. In her place was the regimental commander from their last deployment. Though probably not as familiar with Fleet doctrine, Thomas remembered him as a common-sense commander who was highly regarded by his troops. It wouldn’t hurt that Thomas had served a subbie tour in the Corps, as well.
Soma sat in the gallery, joined for the afternoon by her friend Quinton, and she held his hand for support as she waited for the verdict. Her large eyes were wide in anticipation, but she caught his gaze and flashed him a brilliant smile. He felt Merje’s hand brush against him, and he looked back toward the presiding officer.
Brigadier Korolev stared down at him from the raised dais. He’d asked few questions during both lawyers’ statements, and seemed quite comfortable with the responses.
“I’ve heard the arguments for and against your actions, and I’ve reviewed your service record,” the brigadier said. “What I see does not impress.”
Thomas felt like he’d been slapped. He heard a quick breath from Merje beside him. Korolev continued, his tone sharpening.
“What started as a promising career has, in my opinion, degraded into a self-centered mediocrity that is becoming a drain on the Astral Force.” He looked down at an info-pad. “Your command tour in
Rapier
was checkered at best, and your service on the staff of EF 15 proved unequivocally that you lack the experience and maturity to rise higher in the ranks. The shameful mess that is the current state of research in the
Armstrong
only adds to your recent record of negligence. In this time of heightened military tensions, the Astral Force needs only the best and brightest in positions of leadership. You, Mr. Kane, have not demonstrated your worth to be counted among them.
“I see no alternative but to revert you to the last posting you held in which you displayed true excellence,” the brigadier continued. “Perhaps there you will rediscover your dedication to the State. I hereby find you guilty of negligence leading to a strategic weakening of Terra. I sentence you to demotion of one rank and assign you to the command of a platoon in the Astral Corps, as the relevant commander sees fit.
“Bailiff, replace the defendant’s rank insignia.” He slammed his gavel down. “This hearing is closed.”
Thomas leaned forward, resting his hands against the table. He vaguely heard shuffling as the few observers behind him started to move. A pair of highly polished boots came into view before him. He looked up.
“Sir, your rank insignia, please.” The bailiff, a highly decorated chief petty officer, stared at him stonily. He held a pair of fresh epaulettes in his hand.
Thomas couldn’t move. He couldn’t even lift his hands to remove his own epaulettes.
“You do it, Chief.”
The bailiff hesitated for a moment, frowning, but then moved efficiently to unhook and remove the epaulettes with two bars and a star, and replace them with the single bar of sublieutenant. Thomas glanced at them, fighting down the urge to throw up. Beside him, Merje began packing her devices into her leather bag.
She noticed his stare, her delicate features furrowing.
“That was strange,” she muttered.
Strange?
He straightened. “Strange? My career was destroyed on trumped up charges, and all you can say is ‘strange?’”
Her expression hardened. “Well it was,” she protested. “I had a solid case, outlining your exemplary service, and I presented it well.” She turned to watch the retreating forms of the prosecution. “This was just a hearing too. Preliminary proceedings don’t usually result in convictions.” She fell silent.
“Usually?” he echoed. “What
should
have happened? You said this was just a formality.”
She gestured impatiently, and his anger swelled.
“Well, it should have been,” she replied. “Somehow we ended up with a flag officer who had an axe to grind.” She gave him a withering stare. “God knows we’ve run into some crazy officers in the corps.”
He just stared, knowing exactly what she meant. Katja had been missing for a week, and he wondered if her disappearance had compromised Merje’s professionalism. He studied her in a different light, noted her sharp, pretty face, her smooth willowy figure, her stylish clothes and accessories. For so long he’d seen a willing Katja substitute. Now all he saw was the product of a sick society.
“You are nothing like your sister.”
She scoffed slightly. “Amen.” She nodded past him. “Now go comfort your wife before she figures out what a naughty boy you’ve been.”
He turned away. The gallery was nearly empty, and Soma nestled against Quinton, her face buried in his shoulder. The Jovian dandy patted her shoulder comfortingly, then stared daggers at Thomas.
He strode over, letting his anger channel toward aggression.
“Get your hands off my wife, you little shit,” he growled, his voice low, “or they’ll need to hold another hearing, into the cause of your painful death.” Quinton recoiled in shock, but in so doing did indeed release Soma.
Thomas crouched down next to her. She noticed him through teary eyes and gripped his hands. Her reaction seemed a little much, and he wondered idly what extra substances she might have enjoyed with lunch.
“Darling, it’s okay,” he said, calming his tone. “I’m not going to jail or anything, and I’m still in the service.”
She stared at his new rank, and there was horror in her eyes.
“But-but… he only demoted you one rank,” she said, her voice small. “You should be a
lieutenant
.”
He looked again at the single bars on his shoulders, and sighed. “Lieutenant commander was just an appointment, not a rank,” he explained, his heart sinking. “Officially I was still a lieutenant, so this is one rank down.”
“But you’ll have to start all over again!”
Her blunt observations weren’t helping his mood.
“Let me worry about that,” he said. “Let’s just go home.”
She sniffled and squeezed his hands again, but then rose. Quinton fired some scathing remark at Merje as she passed, but she was reading her Baryon and probably didn’t hear. Thomas rested Soma’s arm in his and led her out of the hearing room.
Out in the broad corridor, military and civilian personnel carried out their daily business with anonymous efficiency. Thomas was about to tell Quinton to get lost for the day when he noticed a large trooper approaching them. Thomas stopped suddenly.
“Sergeant Chang.”
The former strike leader from
Rapier
nodded respectfully.
“Sublieutenant Kane,” he said in a carefully controlled tone. “I have orders for you to join the basic strike leader course, in which I’m an assistant instructor.” He handed over a pad, which had a posting message displayed on the screen.
“This course has already started,” Thomas observed.
“Yes, sir,” Chang replied. “You’re to accompany me immediately to Astral Base One, to join your classmates there.”
“What… now?” Thomas glanced at his wife, and at his own dress uniform.
“Yes, sir.”
This was too much. “Sergeant, I’m having a challenging day. I think before I start a new training course, I should be allowed to pack and… and get my bearings.”
Chang’s expression didn’t waver. “I sympathize, sir, but my orders are clear. And with respect, so are yours.”
Soma squeezed his arm more tightly. “What’s going on?” He looked down at her. His mercurial wife was in no state to deal with Astral politics.
“Nothing, darling. Just a bit of confusion that I have to sort out. Sergeant Chang used to work for me on
Rapier
, and I have to go with him for a few hours. Why don’t you go home and get some rest. I won’t be long.”