An Officer’s Duty (63 page)

SEPTEMBER 6, 2495 T.S.

“Do you feel like talking about it?”

Silence.

“You do know you can talk to me about it…”

More silence.

“Are you
sure
you don’t want to talk about it?”

Nothing but silence.

“Well, then. If all you’re going to do is
pout
over it—”

“I am
not pouting
!” Bennie snapped, finally breaking her sullen silence. “I am
sulking
. There
is
a difference, you know.”

“Okay, so you’re sulking,” Ia agreed, holding up her right hand. She still had two intravenous tubes hooked to the veins in her left arm, but mostly to run it through a bacteriometer to make absolutely sure her blood was clean. “Do you want to talk about
why
you’re sulking? Or do you just want to grump and glower a bit longer?”

Bennie muttered something under her breath. At Ia’s inquisitive look, she repeated it a little louder. “Grump and glower.”

“Alright. Do let me know when you’re finished, so we can talk it over and work through why you’re so mad at me,” Ia stated calmly.

The chaplain gave her a dark look. “Excuse me? Where did you get
your
psychology degree?”

“School of Hard Knocks, magna cum laude,” Ia quipped deadpan, picking up her cup of caf’ for a sip. Her blood pressure had stabilized without the need for further medicine the day after her newly grown kidneys had been implanted, but this was her first official cup of caffeine since then. “I would’ve been valedictorian, but I’m terrible at speech-making. Definitely long-winded, but nowhere near flowery enough.”

Bennie chuckled in spite of herself. “That’s for certain—dammit, Ia! I
knew
you were hiding something from me, but
this
? A psychic? And one
hell
of a psi, given all the reports I’ve heard. Telekinesis, electrokinesis, telepathy, biokinesis—what
else
are you hiding under all that white hair?”

Swallowing the semibitter liquid, Ia set her cup down with a sigh and a
click
. “Quite a lot. But I had very good reasons for hiding it as much as I did. Now I don’t have to hide it anymore…
not that I
could
anymore, given all those reports that you’ve heard.”

Bennie shifted in her chair, arms still crossed over her chest and looking very much like she was still sulking. “I had to call your parents, to let them know you’d been kidnapped. And then…then I had to call them again. They caught the pirates that kidnapped you, and the villains confessed that they’d sold you to the Salik. I had to tell your
parents
that you were now listed as Captured, Presumed Et. That is absolutely the
worst
task I or any other officer in the history of the Blockade has ever had to do!”

“I know,” Ia murmured, not unsympathetic to her friend’s pain. “I knew a long time ago that I needed to be captured at that point in time.
And
that I’d get myself and most of the others out alive.”

A snort escaped the older woman. Bennie swiped a hand through her auburn locks, revealing the grey streak forming at her temple. “Well. That does explain why they were so
calm
when I called and told them you’d been captured. At least, I’m presuming there’s some correlation between the two.”

Ia looked across the room at the fake window projecting a computer-generated view of a lightning-teased forest from her homeworld. She had been upgraded to the gravity ward that morning, though the pull of gravity was not yet more than an easy, gentle, 1.2Gs, something even Bennie could tolerate.

She had also been given the best amenities the station had to offer, thanks to her newly minted heroism in the Solaricans’ eyes. Some of the amenities were felinoid-specific, such as the all-body dryer nozzles built into the showering stall, but most of it was familiar enough to translate over to standard Human needs. It was a vast change from living naked for two weeks in an animal cage, waiting for her one chance to avoid being eaten alive.

“When I was three…I told my mother that she was pregnant with my little brother Fyfer, the day she conceived,” Ia confessed quietly. “She didn’t believe me. I told her my little brother would grow up short, and cute, and have curly dark hair. Three months later, a routine examination determined his gender. And when he was born, he was born with tufts of curly dark hair. He is now one hundred forty-eight centimeters tall, over thirty centimeters shorter than our older brother, and he still has dark curly hair.”

“I’ve seen pictures of your brother Thorne. He has dark, curly hair, too,” Bennie reminded the younger woman on the bed. “That much wouldn’t have been difficult to guess.”

“Thorne was born with lighter hair, almost blond. It only darkened as he got older,” Ia stated.

Needing to get up and exercise some more, to push herself to get back into shape, she swung her legs off the bed and stood. Her abdomen was still tender, but at least she had her kidneys again. Doctor Miian had offered to regrow her ovaries as well, but Ia had demurred. She had grown used to not having any biological worries in that department. Most of her energy these days was being spent on keeping herself alive, anyway. Adding children into the mix was not an option for her.

“When I was an infant,” she continued, “I would stop crying shortly after my mother began heating up a bottle of milk. If she started to put it away again, I’d start crying again, and stop when she resumed her task, even if I was in another room,” Ia stated, carefully swinging and stretching her arms, mindful of the bacteriometer and its tubes. She could now wear pants instead of a gaping hospital drape, but her shirt was a poncho-like thing that snapped in place under her armpits. Grimacing, she flapped her elbows and muttered under her breath as the fabric fluttered. “I feel like a chicken in this drape-thing…”

“What are you saying?” Bennie asked skeptically. She ignored the younger woman’s quip, still fixed on the previous topic. “That you’re some sort of precocious clairvoyant?”

“Precognitive,” Ia corrected, bending her legs in shallow squats. A few more minutes of this and she would begin to sweat. Too much bed rest had left her weak. “Not clairvoyant. Every step I have taken since my abilities matured at the age of fifteen, I have undertaken with full foresight and careful planning. I
knew
I would be captured. I
knew
I would be at that banquet as one of the main dishes. I
knew
I would be able to free all those people and destroy that installation. Just as I knew I would be doing most everything else I have done in my military career. Not always
exactly
what I would do…but I knew I would do it.”

Another snort escaped the chaplain. “
V’shova
, Ia. Nobody can foresee that much. Precognition is the
least
reliable of all the psychic abilities. Nebulous visions, metaphoric meanings,
flashes of moments…and most of it can be derailed or avoided by making different choices. Even the Inner Circle of the PsiLeague won’t pay that much attention to foresight warnings unless a minimum of twelve precogs all agree.”

“Actually, it’s only six who need to agree,” Ia muttered. Bennie shot her a mock-dirty look. Sighing, Ia shifted to walking in place, swinging her arms and lifting her knees. “Look, just don’t close your mind, that’s all I’m asking. Dr. Miian has agreed to let me help run some of the experiments with the anti-psi machine we brought back. It’ll take place after the commendation ceremony. I’d like you to come along and stand witness.”

“Stand witness to what?” Bennie asked her.

“They’ve gathered several members from the various psychic organizations across the Alliance. The PsiLeague, the Seer’s Council, the Nesting of Minds…I have some ideas of my own on what to try with the machine,” Ia admitted. Her efforts were starting to make her sweat. “Part of what we’re going to do is compare the machine to a KI monitor, and see how much the one can pick up through the interference of the other, as a way to gauge just how strong the nullifying field is. While we’re doing
that
, the PsiLeague has agreed to give me an official rank testing, since all the various organizations have agreed their tests are the best benchmark for such things.”

“Well, it
was
the founders of the PsiLeague who developed the first psi-sensitive monitor,” Bennie muttered. “Alright, I’ll come along. But only to hear the results of your testing.”

Sitting back down on the edge of her bed, Ia picked up her mug and sipped at the cooling brown liquid. She sighed and set it back on the tray. “Part of me knows I’m going to take several more days to recover, even at my best pace. Part of me is just damned impatient to get back to full strength.”

“Well, don’t push yourself into a relapse,” Bennie warned her. “Dr. Miian is kind of cute for a felinoid, but I hear he’s already engaged.”

Ia chuckled at that. “Bennie, I had
enough
problems with my one failed attempt at a relationship. What makes you think I’m going to go throw myself into another?”

Lifting her own cup to her lips, the chaplain paused and made a few
bok bok bauk
noises under her breath.

“I will
not
be provoked,” Ia muttered. “Listen, once we’re done with this visit, I want you to go back to the
Mad Jack
and pack up everything. Your office, your quarters, all of it.”

Bennie choked on her caf’, coughing hoarsely. When she had regained some of her breath, she wheezed, “Are you
nuts
?”

“Maybe. I want you to put in for a solid week of Leave, starting September 10th. Tomorrow, the Command Staff will send orders that I am to report to them in person as soon as I have medical clearance to leave. Those orders will be rendered all the more urgent once I’ve undergone my rank testing. Everyone who’ll be here to examine it is working for one or another of the military forces in the Alliance. Well,” she amended, thinking ahead, “almost everyone…

“Anyway, when I head to the Tower on Earth, I would like you with me. If nothing else, for damage control,” Ia muttered under her breath. “I have one last, big battle to fight, before everything changes. Unlike the Salik one, the probabilities for success are far less certain. Less than sixty percent. If I do succeed, I’d like you to come with me on my new assignment. If I fail…I’m going to need you to contact somebody for me, and make sure they get in to see me.”

“Get in?” Bennie repeated. “Get in, where?”

Ia gave her a level, sober look. “The Tower Dungeon.”

The chaplain stared. She stared until she finally blinked and drew in a breath. “You’re…going to try something that will risk you getting thrown in
prison
? What the hell are you going to do, Lieutenant?”

“An extremely rare Yamaneuver,” Ia said. She didn’t bother to explain which one, though she did respond to the chaplain’s dubious look. “Bennie, what is the one thing that you
know
I will do, regardless of the consequences to myself?”

She rolled her eyes, sagging back in her chair. This was an old discussion between them, one that was all too easily recited. “You will do your damnedest to save lives, because that’s the only way you can live with yourself.” Bennie slanted her a sardonic look, mouth twisting in wry amusement. “You’re like some God-damned martyr, meioa. Except you thankfully keep coming out of these situations alive.”

Picking up her cup, Ia saluted her chaplain with it. “Hallelujah, Sister. Amen to that.”

SEPTEMBER 9, 2495 T.S.

Once again, she stood before an audience of military personnel. This time, it was a mixed audience, containing both Human factions, Solaricans, Tlassians, Gatsugi, K’katta, and even a few Choya. She hadn’t actually rescued any Choya from the suckered grasp of their mutual enemy, but that was believed by the rest to simply be a matter of Salik preferences; with their copper-based blood, the Choya “tasted bad” to Salik sensibilities.

She knew why. The average Choyan soldier, the ones sitting in the auditorium, they had no clue, but their top military and government leaders had made a devil’s pact with their fellow amphibians. That was a problem for another day, though Ia couldn’t quite stop worrying about it.
My schedule never clears…It just scrolls down to the next week’s disaster, and the blank spots fill up as fast as a thought. At least I’ve pushed back the start of the next Salik War by several months. They’re still scrambling to fill in the gaping holes in their top echelons, thank god…

The K’kattan ambassador gestured for her to kneel for a fourth time. Lowering herself, Ia rested a palm on the floor as she ducked her head, permitting the dignitary to toss another thin, silk-like sash over her head. His arachnoid race didn’t wear much in the way of clothing, unless the ambient conditions of temperature and weather or a lack of atmosphere demanded it. But they did decorate themselves and each other with colorful sashes, tassels, and ribbons. Alien or otherwise, their war heroes were no exception.