Earth 2788 (19 page)

“I certainly
haven’t slept in days,” said Marack. “It looked as if we had the planet stable,
but everything suddenly exploded again. You know how fast trouble can flare up
on Planet First missions.”

I nodded.

“That’s why I’m
calling you,” said Marack. “My replacement was supposed to arrive next week. I
was going to spend a few days handing things over to him, then head to Alpha
sector and take up my new post commanding the five Earth solar arrays.”

“You don’t think
you’ll be able to leave?” I asked.

“I know I won’t
be able to leave,” said Marack. “We’ve just had to send K19448 back to maximum
quarantine status.”

“Chaos!” I knew
how desperately Marack wanted that post commanding the Earth solar arrays. “That
means you can only leave if K19448 has a full emergency evacuation, and even
then you’ll be stuck in a quarantine area for ages.”

“I need to get
to Earth within the next two weeks to take up my new command,” said Marack, “and
I can’t possibly make it. Solar Array Command can’t hold the position for me,
because they know this sort of Planet First situation is totally unpredictable.
I could be stuck here for months, even years, so they’ll have to appoint
someone else. I hate to ask this, Father, but …”

“Yes,” I
interrupted him. “Of course I’ll take the position until you arrive, and then
hand it over to you. At least, I will if I’m eligible for it. I’m no expert on
the technical side of running solar arrays.”

“You leave the
technical side to your Science team leader,” said Marack. “Your job is managing
people and making any necessary command decisions.”

He paused. “It
would be a huge relief to me if you do this, Father. General Dragon Tell Dramis
has offered to be a temporary substitute for me, which is extremely generous of
him, but you know the reason I’m so eager to get this Earth posting and Dragon …”

He didn’t need
to finish his sentence, because I was already shuddering at the idea. “Oh no,
we can’t let Dragon go anywhere near this! He’s brilliant at wading into
lethally dangerous situations and getting them under control, but when it comes
to dealing with people he has all the sensitivity of a charging herd of Asgard
bison. I know that the second Dragon hears I’ve been seen in public wearing a
toga, he’ll be pushing me to rejoin the clan, allocating me rooms in the clan
hall, and suggesting duties I can perform.”

I pulled a face.
“I know Dragon would only be doing those things because he wants to welcome me
back to the family, but rejoining the clan is a huge emotional journey for me.
I need to take it at my own speed, or I’ll fall apart all over again.”

“You mustn’t let
Dragon put you off returning home to us,” said Marack.

“I won’t.” I
smiled. “Dragon’s fond of giving other people lectures, but if he starts
pushing me to do things I’m not ready for, I’ll be the one giving him the
lecture for a change.”

Marack laughed.
“Dragon won’t like that.”

“He’ll hate it,
but my age means he’ll just have to listen in dutiful silence. Dragon may be a General,
and on clan council, but he still has to treat his elderly uncle with proper
respect.”

I paused. “Anyway,
my point is that I’ll make sure Dragon doesn’t interfere with my return to the
clan, because I know his idea of being helpful could destroy everything for me.
I’ll make sure that he stays away from Earth as well, because I don’t want him
destroying things for you either. Is there anyone specific I should contact
about this assignment?”

Marack shook his
head.

“Then I’ll call
General Kpossi at Colony Ten Command. She’s been trying to talk me into taking
another post, so she should be happy to help me with this. Colony Ten Command
need to be constantly operational, so they run shifts, and I’m not sure what
General Kpossi’s shift pattern is. It may take me a while to get to talk to
her, so leave this with me while you try and get some sleep.”

Marack groaned.
“My problem won’t be getting to sleep, but waking up again. K19448 has a twenty-four
hour and sixteen minutes long day and I could sleep for all of it.”

I laughed. “Go
ahead and do that. When you wake up, you’ll hopefully find a message from me
telling you that everything’s arranged. Now I’m saying goodbye, so you go to
bed and sleep!”

I ended that
call, shrugged off my toga, put my uniform jacket back on, and made another
call to Colony Ten Command. I wasn’t sure whether to go via their Command
Support or contact General Kpossi directly, but compromised by sending General
Kpossi a text message, flagged as non-urgent, asking her to contact me when
convenient about a possible posting. I was pleased to get an almost instant
response, but rather confused by the misty image on my lookup screen.

The mist
abruptly cleared, and I saw General Kpossi’s face, her hair trailing limply
round it and dripping water. “What position have you found to tempt you,
Colonel?” she asked.

“The command of
the Earth solar arrays, sir. Their future commanding officer will be late
taking it up because of a Planet First problem. I’d like to take the position
as a temporary measure until he arrives.”

The image on my
lookup screen went misty again, and I realized the lookup was underwater. A
moment later, it cleared. There were a series of random glimpses of a swimming
pool, followed by a close-up view of a towel. General Kpossi obviously wore her
lookup and continued working while swimming.

The towel
vanished from view, and then appeared again, this time wrapped round General
Kpossi’s head. “I’d prefer you to take another permanent position, Colonel, but
a temporary one is a good start. I’ll give Solar Array Command a call right now
and set that up for you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

I ended the
call. I’d just sent the promised message to Marack, when there was a chime from
the door. I gave it a bewildered look, tapped the table top, and the door
opened. Leveque and Stone came in.

“The last of the
married couples rejoined the party ages ago, sir,” said Stone. “We were getting
worried you’d sneaked away without saying goodbye.”

“Actually, I’ve
been busy arranging a new posting,” I said.

Leveque gave me
a startled look. Judging from his expression, my Threat team leader had
calculated the chances of me accepting another post as virtually zero.

I smiled. “Don’t
worry, Mason. Your predictive skills haven’t let you down. I’m not giving up
the idea of retiring, just taking a temporary post to help out my son, Marack.”

“Would you need
a deputy commander and a Threat team leader on this posting?” asked Leveque.

I shook my head.
“If this was another Planet First posting, then I’d be calling on you two and a
lot of the other people from this command to go with me, but it’s not. I’ll be
having a dreadfully boring time commanding the Earth solar arrays, where the
biggest excitement is likely to be the food dispensers running out of Fizzup.”

I picked up my
toga and shrugged it on. “Let’s get back to the party!”

Zeus, Beta Sector, October 2788. Readers voted on which
character they’d like me to feature in the final story for this collection, and
they chose Major Drago Tell Dramis, a character who doesn’t appear in the Earth
Girl trilogy until the second book, Earth Star. Drago also appears in Kappa
Sector 2788, and this story is set immediately after that story ends.

Part
I

Technically speaking, I was born an
Alphan, because I let out my first outraged baby wails in the Medical Centre at
Military Headquarters on the planet Academy in Alpha sector. Far more
importantly though, I was born a member of one of the famous Military clans of
Beta sector. The Tell clan hall on the Betan capital planet, Zeus, was the one
stable point in my twenty-eight nomad years as first a Military child and then a
Military officer. Despite my dual Alphan and Betan citizenship, my heart was
wholly Betan, and I counted Zeus as my true home world.

Returning to
Zeus after a long Military assignment was always a little nerve-wracking. I
could count on our clan hall being comfortingly unchanged, because it was a clan
policy to stick to classic furnishings and decor rather than follow the rapidly
changing fashions of Zeus. The rest of the planet was much less considerate
during my absences, so I never knew which of my old haunts I’d find had altered
beyond recognition, or even vanished entirely.

I held my breath
as I walked into Asante’s MeetUp, then relaxed as I saw the familiar marble
pillars, and the gloriously fake, luxuriant grape vines growing up the walls. I
scanned the crowded room slowly, recognizing some old friends of mine, like the
aging, silver-haired Constantine who was as fixed a part of this place as the
marble pillars.

I was really
looking for the bartender, Asante, of course. On frontier worlds, a bartender
wore functional clothes, stood behind a bar and served drinks. Here on Zeus, a
bartender traditionally wore a flamboyant version of a laurel wreath, and
roamed the room playing the role of welcoming host, while the drinks came from
automated dispensers. Beta sector prided itself on being inspired by ancient
Rome, and wearing laurel wreaths was somehow supposed to link bartenders with
Bacchus, the ancient Roman god of wine and revelry.

I finally
spotted Asante’s ludicrous laurel wreath at the far end of the room. He’d made
a few alterations to it since the last time I was here. It was coloured
imperial purple now, with matching tiny purple lights that flashed brightly
among the black twisted strands of his hair. I raised an eyebrow when I
realized Asante was sitting on an ornate throne on a raised dais. I could see a
throne would serve the twin function of indulging his colossal ego, while also
giving him a good view of everything happening in the room, but a throne still
seemed a little ostentatious even for Asante.

My Military
uniform made me conspicuous among the people in party clothes, so Asante
spotted me at the same moment that I saw him. He gave me one of his improbably
wide smiles, which always made me wonder if his face would split in half one
day, jumped down from his throne, and hurried over to meet me.

“Attention everyone,
the irresistible Drago Tell Dramis is back among us!” he shouted in his deep,
booming voice. He was using Betan dialect rather than standard Language. As a
fiercely loyal Betan, Asante refused to speak the common tongue of humanity on
principle, and constantly complained about Betan schools and newzie channels
being forced to use it.

There was a
round of applause and appreciative whistles as people got up from their seats
and came to gather round us. I felt myself blush.

“
Finally
back among us,” added Asante pointedly.

I laughed and
replied in Betan dialect myself, having to think carefully about which words
were the same as in Language and which were radically different. I always had a
problem when I first came home after spending a long time almost exclusively
speaking Language. My brain seemed to need a couple of days to shake the dust
off the part of itself that could automatically switch between Betan dialect
and Language.

“I warned you I
was going on what would probably be a long Planet First assignment,” I said. “When
the Military are making a new world safe for humanity, we have to work under
strict quarantine restrictions, so officers can’t casually portal home on leave.”

“Yes, but I
didn’t expect it to be two whole years before I saw you again,” said Asante. “I
was beginning to think you’d turned traitor and found yourself a different
MeetUp on Zeus.”

“You should know
I’m your faithful subject.” I knelt on one knee, and gave him the ancient right
hand on heart salute of Beta sector. “Hail, Asante!”

“Oh no,” called
Constantine. “Don’t start kneeling to him, Drago. We don’t want a repeat of
last year.”

I got back to my
feet. “What happened last year?”

Constantine
smiled. “Asante decided Beta sector should declare its independence as the Third
Roman Empire, with himself as Emperor. You must have noticed his new imperial
laurel wreath and throne.”

The whole room
erupted in laughter and reminiscent jokes, but I frowned, hit by multiple
conflicting emotions. The part of me that was loyal to Beta sector was proud of
the time nearly two centuries ago, when Beta sector had declared the second
Roman Empire under Emperor Haran Augustus, and had stood alone and defiant
against the rest of humanity.

But the part of
me loyal to the Military took a very different view. For the fifty-three year
duration of the Second Roman Empire, humanity had hovered on the brink of war
between the sectors. It had been a dreadful time for the Military, with
officers who’d joined up to defend humanity from danger having to face the
possibility of using their weapons against fellow human beings.

And the part of
me that was loyal to my clan shuddered at the mere mention of the Second Roman
Empire. That time had been an utter nightmare for the members of the sprawling
extended families of the Military clans of Beta sector. I’d seen the vids in my
clan archives, showing my ancestors having anguished clan meetings, torn
between their oaths as Betans and as Military. After seeing those vids, the
thought of Beta sector declaring the Third Roman Empire, of finding myself in
exactly the same position, was far from funny.

“Asante took everyone
over to the Parthenon,” continued Constantine, “so we could hear him make a
speech to Senate, ordering them to defend Betan clan culture and sexual freedom
by attacking Gamma sector.”

There was
another burst of laughter, and I forced myself to smile. The people around me
were civilians, and couldn’t possibly understand how I felt about this. They
thought there was a big gulf between the culture of Beta and the other sectors,
but they didn’t realize there was a far bigger division between Military and
civilian life.

Since over 90
per cent of Military recruits had been born into Military families themselves,
and grown up either on Military bases or in Betan Military clan halls, few
civilians even knew one of us personally, let alone understood the life we
lived. The Military did all the dangerous jobs of humanity, preparing new
colony worlds to be safe homes for people, and going in as a peacekeeping force
on worlds where planetary political arguments threatened to escalate into civil
war. We did our job well, perhaps too well. Civilians led a protected,
sheltered existence, and could expect to live to celebrate their hundredth.
They had no idea of the true horror of death and conflict.

On Remembrance
Day each year, civilians would spare a few moments to solemnly remember the
Military who’d died protecting them, but they got their ideas of those deaths
from naively romantic entertainment vids. They pictured them all as happening
in heroic circumstances, with the bodies looking dignified and nobly peaceful
in death, just like the statues at a memorial site. They’d never seen a friend
die in a stupidly pointless accident, or had to respectfully gather together
the pieces of what had been their body for burial.

If something
happened to me one day, then the lives of the people who knew me at Asante’s
MeetUp might be briefly touched by shadow, but I’d soon become a nostalgic
memory. They’d never face danger themselves. They’d never know the intense
moment when you were hit by the reality that doing something could kill you,
but you did it anyway, because you were Military and never wanted to be
anything else.

It was the job
of the Military to protect civilians from such grim realities, not to spoil a
happy moment with lectures about wars being an inappropriate subject for jokes.
I did my best to speak in a light-hearted voice. “How did the members of Senate
react to Asante’s arrival?”

Hermione and
Nyakeo, Asante’s wives, came out from the crowd. Hermione had had blonde hair
trailing loose past her shoulders last time I saw her, but now her hair was red
and caught up in an ornate knot on top of her head. Nyakeo looked the same as
ever though, hair and skin as dark as Asante, and with an infectiously happy
grin on her face.

They both kissed
me on the cheek, and then Hermione spoke. “It was nearly midnight, so the whole
of Senate had gone home hours ago, but the Praetorian Honour Guard were still
guarding the building. They were very friendly and helpful when we explained
what was happening. They let Asante stand on the steps, declare himself
Emperor, and make his speech. They even saluted him at the end.”

“I made a vid of
the whole thing,” added Nyakeo, “and they used a clip on Beta Sector Daily.
I’ll send you a copy if you like, Drago. It’s a shame you weren’t there to be
in the vid yourself.”

I pictured
myself in Military uniform, joining the Praetorian Honour Guard in saluting
Emperor Asante, and cringed. The Praetorian Honour Guard was made up of
bodyguards employed by the Betan Senate, and encouraged to entertain the
public, while I was a genuine Military officer. All the newzie channels would
have grabbed the chance to show the vid clip, and Military Command …

Actually,
however strongly Military Command disapproved, they couldn’t have done much to
me, because celebrating my cultural heritage was specifically permitted under
Military Regulations. They wouldn’t have needed to do anything anyway, because Father
would have shot me. If Mother was around at the time, she’d have stopped him of
course, but then I’d have had to suffer a lifetime of endless lectures about my
irresponsible behaviour. On the whole, I’d have been better off being shot.

In reality
though, none of those things would have happened. I wasn’t nearly as immature
and reckless as my father imagined. However much I adored encouraging the
delightful eccentricities of Asante inside his MeetUp, I’d have had to
disappoint him by refusing to take part in a public display. It was fortunate
that his acclamation as Emperor had happened while I was away on assignment.

One thing about
this story puzzled me. Asante’s hostility to other sectors was normally centred
on privileged Alpha sector, the traditional rival of Beta sector, so … “Why did
you want to attack Gamma sector in particular?”

Asante gave a
dramatic wave of his right hand. “When Alpha and Gamma sectors united to try
and impose their cultural standards on Beta sector back in 2605, we defied
them. We will do the same again now in 2788. Fidelis!”

“Fidelis!”
yelled the mob.

I frowned. “I
know I don’t have access to the full range of Betan newzie channels when I’m on
a nameless prospective colony world in Kappa sector, but if we were facing a
political situation like there was in 2605 then every newzie channel in every
sector would be screaming about it.”

“I admit it was
on a much smaller scale,” said Asante, “but the principle was the same.”

“What actually
happened was a minor Gamma sector politician made a speech condemning the
immorality of Beta sector,” said Hermione. “Apparently, he’d been part of some
official Gamma sector delegation that came to Zeus. He went into a MeetUp like
this one and didn’t like what he saw.”

She paused and
adopted a prim, masculine tone of voice, before quoting what I guessed was part
of the speech. “I’m a tolerant man. I accept that triad marriage is legal in
Beta sector, I accept the peculiarities of their clan system and their mangled
interpretation of ancient Roman and Greek culture, but I cannot accept the way
they scandalize innocent visitors to their worlds with their immoral clothing
standards. I was shocked, appalled, and outraged to see women brazenly
flaunting their naked fronts at me!”

Constantine
grinned. “Beta sector’s official response was to ban him from ever visiting a
Betan world again. The message said we couldn’t guarantee that every single one
of the tens of billions of people in Beta sector would remain suitably dressed
at all times just in case he walked through their door, and didn’t want any
risk of him suffering such alarming shock and distress again. Asante’s
demonstration was one of a host of unofficial responses, including the new
fashion in party clothes. You must have noticed our clothes.”

Naturally I’d noticed
everyone was wearing glittering, jewel-coloured clothes, which covered an oddly
large amount of the body for Beta sector. It wasn’t exactly true that Betans
had no nudity taboo, and there were plenty of places and occasions where full
formal dress including a toga was expected, but there was usually a lot more
skin on display in a MeetUp, particularly Asante’s MeetUp.

“I was a bit
puzzled by the clothes,” I said.

Asante gave one
of his widest smiles. “Gamma sector would like us to wear clothes that cover
the body areas they consider private, so we are. The clothes are slightly
different to the ones in Gamma sector though, because they’re made with cutaway
cloth sections. Watch what happens when people dance.”