by Jim Rudnick
Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
The RIM Confederacy
A Message to you from the Author
CHAPTER ONE
Prologue
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
Next Book Prologue
Reviews
BOOK EIGHT OF THE
RIM CONFEDERACY
Eons Semester
by Jim Rudnick
This is purely a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This book may not be re-sold or given away without permission in writing from the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, copied, or distributed in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means past, present or future.
Cover art by Lasse Perala
ISBN-13: 978-1-988144-10-8
Copyright © 2016
Jim Rudnick
All rights reserved.
For my Susan…
The RIM Confederacy: Eons Semester
"Jilted by his Royal fiancee, captain Tanner Scott is assigned to Eons and the newly constructed RIM Naval Academy buildings and the duty is anything but a reward. His days are full of squabbling University professors and construction types all nitpicking for changes to plans and additions and extra and the attention to detail is a horrible side-effect.
As he learns, there is more to looking after a successful construction project than being at the top of the heap and the machinations of the Issians who run Eons and it’s mind-readers comes to him for help. He knows that the Baroness is somehow also involved but the openness of the Master Adept and her Inner Circle that controls Eons is what is so surprising to him.
As the Naval Academy is finally ready to open and the heads of state of many of the RIM Confederacy planets arrive, the protesters against the Issians make their play to publicly humiliate the Inner Circle and their own plans to strengthen their ranks via the death of twins and Tanner must find a way to quell the uprising…”
A Message to you from the Author…
I just wanted to say thanks so so much for reading Book Eight of the RIM Confederacy!
As my Amazon bio says, being a youngster in the 1950's meant that I was a voracious reader in what has been called the Golden Age of Science Fiction. That meant that for me, my heroes were not on the hockey rink or gridiron - but instead in my local Library where at 12 I had a full Adult card (thanks Dad!) and took out more than 5 books a week.
Everyone from Heinlein, Norton, Leiber, Pohl, Anderson, Simak, Asimov, Brackett, Gunn, Van Vogt and more....I fell in love with and eventually owned Ace Doubles of my own. And while I never knew who wrote the Tom Corbett - Space Cadet series, I fell in love with them and they had a place of honor on my own bookcase too!
With that kind of an introduction to Science Fiction, it's no wonder that when I got my writing work done, I turned my own fictional side of my brain to writing same. It's one thing I know how to write - and a totally different matter to release same to the world - something that I've just started to work on....
Suffice it to say my own works are rooted in that Golden Age and it's that era that I'd like to one day be known as a teensy contributor to in some small way...
So once again, thanks for beginning my RIM Confederacy series and wait'll you learn about the alcoholic spaceship captain that is my hero, who fights and beats aliens but not the bottle!
Enjoy and remember, in a series, characters develop and mature not the way we sometimes want…instead, it's like they have a life of their own!
And while you can read the series in any order, I'd highly recommend to start with Pirates, then Sleeper Ship, Prison Planet, Ancient Relics, Hospital Ship, Desert Planet, Ruined Memories and Eons Semester too…and yes, there's more coming soon too!
CHAPTER ONE
Prologue ~
On Tavira, the moon that lay above Eons, an Issian lay in restraints in a secure medical ward in the capital city of Aporia. The Issian sometimes fought them, but they were too tight to give even a millimeter. She was a youngish woman in her thirties, but she had long ago given up any kind of care and concern for her looks and her body. Half-conscious and always in a drug-induced stupor, the woman lay quietly on the bed.
Her hair, now tangled, knotted, and even missing in some spots along one temple, should have been blonde but was now brown with dried blood and pus from an open sore. Her hair hadn’t been washed in months.
Her toenails and fingernails were long, curled and dull yellow as the keratin was thick and unkempt. If anyone ever came close enough, she would try to rake them with those nails. But that was before the medication dosages were upped, and she hadn’t tried that in weeks.
Her teeth were once shiny and white but now were yellow and brittle. A few were missing; for some reason, she would worry a tooth with her tongue and do that long enough and often enough that she would spit out a tooth onto the plain steel ward floor. They fed her via a gastric feeding tube that had been inserted through a small incision in the abdomen into the stomach and was used for long-term enteral nutrition. She hadn’t tasted food in almost a year, but she didn’t care.
Her eyes were light blue but such a light tone as to be almost white; each had a huge iris that took up almost the whole of the eyeball—the coal black pupils were large too. Staring at her many had found was treacherous—one could easily fall right into her brain some said. And what a brain it was—she was an Issian twin with all the anxiety that that might mean.
Her gown, if it could be called that, lay on her frame like an old tarpaulin on rough ground. She had the usual female parts but not one could be called a curve.
She was anything but attractive—in fact, she was anti-attractive to anyone who could see the real woman.
Of course, that never happened up here in the Issian Secure Ward.
No one came.
No one visited.
No one cared.
In fact, for a full sixty feet around this ward room, no one was usually allowed to enter except the medical robo drones the ward staff used to tend to her. Once a week, an Issian doctor attended who read charts and nodded but did nothing else.
There was nothing to do—she was a twin.
And now change was coming, and as yet, no plans had been made for this twin.
CHAPTER TWO
Stepping onto the boarding dock of the Nugent shuttle, Tanner stopped for a moment to turn and speak to some of his crew, who’d followed him to see him off.
“Fellows—well, and girls too,” Tanner said as he included Lieutenant Irving who’d come along even though her replacement was not even on station back on the bridge, “this is not goodbye—but a simple see you all soon!” He smiled even though he knew something was definitely wrong with his new mission to Eons.
“Sir,” Kondo said, “this is a mistake—I intend to ask for a full investigation on this, Sir—even if I have to go to the Barony Captain’s Council at gunpoint.”
He was upset and a part of that, Tanner knew, was that their own plans of beating the invader mother ship had just worked—and now his captain was getting sent elsewhere.
“Kondo, stand down, lad,” Tanner said quietly. “Nothing to be gai
ned by raising the hackles on others—find out what you must, but always act politely—works best I’ve found,” he finished off.
Bram held out his hand to shake, and Tanner grasped it and shook it gladly.
“If I can—and I’d think I might need help—I’ll ask that you get moved over to Eons too for a spell, Bram,” Tanner said, and his mind sent a be safe and well thought to his Adept officer.
The bond between them had been forged in too many instances for them to forget what each meant to the other, and the Issian gave Tanner a firm and heartfelt hug.
He shook hands with Irving, Sheldon, and then Cooper, grinned at them, and said, “If we’re all here, who’n the hell is running the Atlas?”
They all laughed loudly. AI had been kicked in as the Atlas lay off KappaD in low orbit, and the ship was in no trouble at all.
He smiled. “Gotta go, be good one and all.”
Tanner turned and marched up the landing ramp into the Nugent shuttle and took a seat quickly, as he faced away from the still open port, not wanting the crew to see his face. He was not happy, but sadly, as he well knew, the job of being a Navy captain often meant orders that were not so much fun. Like this time.
He’d been seconded from the captaincy of the BN Atlas to immediately transfer to Eons and take part in the new Barony Naval Academy facility merge under Rear Admiral Ethan Higgins, who was in charge of the program.
And once those duties were complete, he would remain on Eons at the Navy Academy as an adjunct professor for the first Semester of their academic year; his orders were signed by the Baroness herself.
Wonder what that’s all about—wait, he thought.
“The Lady St. August perhaps …” he said to himself and shook his head as the most probable reason why he’d just been taken off space duty and sent to a landlocked menial job presented itself.
The shuttle pilot looked back at him and questioned, “Are we good to go, Captain?”
Tanner nodded while he remembered Lady St. August’s soft, soft skin, how she looked, how she felt, and more. His change of their relationship was the most likely reason for his exile.
He was being exiled to a planet of mind readers because he wanted to get a better hold of their chances of a successful life together rather than what he imagined it would be like being a Royal.
He shook his head one more time.
Eons. New duty station. Help Higgins to build the new Academy and then teach at same. That sounded okay. Boring. But okay. Dumb-ass. But okay. He snorted.
The pilot was good, and the quick shuttle flight to the Nugent was done in minutes. As the craft touched down on the Nugent landing port deck, Tanner got up and went down the ramp to greet a small group of officers who appeared to be waiting for him.
“Captain Scott,” a lieutenant commander said as he stepped forward, “could we welcome you to the Nugent and then ask you to follow us to meet with the admiral in our ready room, Sir?”
Tanner nodded and no introductions were offered or made, so he trooped in with the others. They made their way down the central corridor to the lift. Going up to Deck Fifty from Deck Four where the landing bays were took almost a full minute, and yet not a single one spoke—all eyes were locked onto the slowly climbing floor numbers in the lift display over the door. The chimes at fifty sounded as the doors opened, and they walked right out and onto the bridge.
Like all destroyers, this was a big bridge with the standard consoles and sections, but it also had a larger temporary area where other functions were often done that held seating and benches.
He looked at the captain’s chair and caught Captain Siegel’s eye. Captain Siegel half-smiled but did not turn to face him; instead, he kept on working on his console.
So, like that, Tanner thought. Least I know where I stand here.
He looked at the accompanying lieutenant commander and said quietly, “And the ready room is …”
The lieutenant commander pointed a finger to a closed door well across the bridge.
Tanner made his way toward same, and when he reached the door, it opened.
Inside, sitting at the conference table, sat Admiral McQueen with a stack of folders, files, and tablets. He looked up at Tanner and smiled. Full smile. It was the kind of smile that meant hello friend, and Tanner smiled back in kind.
“Tanner—please have a seat. We have some stuff to go over—but tell me first, whose cup did you piss in, lad?”
Tanner nodded. “Sir—good to see you in person, Admiral. And the cup appears to be owned by the Lady St. August,” he said and sighed at the same time.
With a faraway look in his eye, the admiral slowly nodded back. “You’ve had what I’d call a stormy relationship with that woman for years, as I remember. But surely, this yanking of your space-duty ticket—oh, wait. More than stormy, right?”
The admiral had obviously connected the dots and that made it easier to explain but not easier either, Tanner thought.
“Sir, yes—we have known each other for years, and it’s been a slowly growing relationship that—well, Sir, no stories out of school, but one that grew to be an intimate one. ‘Til a week ago or so—when I asked for some kind of rationale for us to go forward, for some kind of map to follow, as I didn’t want to become a Royal was my own bottom line, Sir. And that didn’t go over so well, Sir,” he said as he remembered the half-empty bottle of wine flying over his head.
The admiral grinned. “So, our captain wanted to stay in the navy, I take it, and not become someone to whom others bowed. Like my own choice would have been, but that didn’t go over well …” he said and chuckled. “So, Eons then. Okay, here’s the skinny, lad,” he said, and he tucked into the stack of folders in front of him.
As he read off the topic, he’d open up a folder, note that the status report on same was up to date, and then, with no discussion on the topic at all, simply hand the folder to Tanner.
The stack in front of him grew, and Tanner heard only snippets of the various items.
Tower Number One had issues with shopping rental spaces—various RIM members wanted space and there just wasn’t enough the admiral said. Tanner would have to handle that issue along with missing laundry equipment and residence furniture issues too. Tower Number Two held the classrooms and that was a total mess, the admiral admitted, his eyebrows soaring as he listed off the missing desks and chairs and the library without books and the lecture theaters with no stairs … and he sighed. Tower Number Three was the academy quartermaster goods and services area, and it too appeared to be a mess. Tower Number Four, the last tower that was supposed to hold academy administration with the offices for the registrar, deans, and others, wasn’t even issued occupancy permits yet as many items were not within code.
The admiral sighed. “We’ve got Rear Admiral Higgins on this—we seconded him in from Halberd—you’d have met there, I believe?”
Tanner nodded. He’d met Higgins and actually liked the man, but he remembered that he was a micro-manager, and this whole academy building program sounded like a details job. Just the right man for the job—and now, I’m his helper, Tanner though and he smiled.
“Yes, Sir, know the man. Liked him too,” he said.
The admiral raised his eyebrows again. “Remember, he’s in charge, Scott. But yes, do help him out—this whole move from the older academy on the other side of Dessau to the new four towers facilities is more than any one man can handle. Help is needed,” he said, and he placed the final folders on the tall pile in front of Tanner. He added a tablet to same with information about Tanner’s academy ID and the facilities.
The admiral smiled. “Tanner, I was so glad to hear that you’d—well, thrown the booze out of your life. Well done. Made me proud to have called you a friend once more. And your plan on how to help us with the invader reaper ships just a few days ago showed me that I was not wrong. Welcome back-well, you’re still a captain in the Barony Navy, but still, on Eons you’ll be posted to the RIM Navy under Higgins. But on
e word of warning, Captain?” he said softly.
Tanner nodded and looked directly at his admiral.
“Royals play hardball, Tanner—so be very, very careful with the Lady St. August. She can wreck your career in an instant—or reward it too. Be cautious is what I preach—you’ve already gone past where I’d have drawn the line, so just be careful, son,” he said, and he laid a hand down over Tanner’s for a moment and patted him twice.
He nodded one more time. “So, quarters down on Deck Forty-Nine, see the deck steward for info, but your bags came over earlier, I think. Normal RIM Navy rules here on the Nugent—we’re due into Juno in about twenty-two days or so—and there’ll be an academy ship there to take you out to Eons,” he said and grinned.
“Welcome back, lad …”
#####
The time on Juno was quick, Tanner thought, and he was sorry he didn’t even get a chance to visit that favorite little pub he’d spent hours in, drinking his Black Scotch and looking at the Randi waterfall pictures up on the walls. He had spent one night only on the Juno Naval Base in officer’s quarters and had been awakened by his wrist PDA. It chimed and then notified him his trip out to Eons on the academy training ship, the frigate the CS Columbia, was fueling up and he had less than two hours to get on board.
He grunted, rolled over, and then slowly arose to get to the showers and find a clean uniform. He was a bit surprised at first to find his worn uniform—the one he’d shipped in to Juno on the Nugent—freshly cleaned and pressed and hanging on the back of the door to his quarters. Barony captain’s uniform, clean and ready to wear. He smiled, thinking that the stewards here on Juno were top-notch too, and got dressed. He’d brought his toilet bag, so combing his hair was easy this morning, and he looked into the mirror above the sink that lay in the head area of his single-room billet.