by C. R. Daems
Katlin stood and barely stifled a call to attention.
"Sit," Pavao said as she walked to the front of the group. "Judging by your applications, the majority of you have never operated on the Bridge of a cruiser and therefore never used a cruiser's tactical simulator. But to test your tactical acuity, we will have to use one. And for us to get an accurate evaluation, you must be familiar with the controls. Today I will explain how the simulator works, your objective during the exercises, and give you time to practice. Questions?"
Katlin had lots of questions, and judging by the expressions on many other faces, so did they. At least she had many hours in a fighter simulator. But she doubted the tactics involved in engaging enemy fighters and cruisers were remotely similar.
Pavao spent two hours explaining how the simulator worked, the controls, and the missiles the cruisers carried and their functions. Then she and Captains Sheva and Alena—who had just arrived—each took a group of three to a simulator, went over the controls, and gave a brief demonstration of each type of missile. When everyone had finished and was seated, Pavao spoke.
"I have scheduled each of you for an hour in one of the simulators. After each session you can schedule as many more as you wish. You have three days to digest the manual—which describes the simulator, its functions, and the weapons available for this test—and to practice in the simulator. On the fourth day, I will post your testing schedule. Have fun," she said with a smile.
When Katlin looked, she was scheduled for simulator number two in three hours. Adapting Leader Reese's philosophy, she relaxed with a good meal before reviewing the manual. As a fighter squadron leader on a Riss cruiser, she had sat with Commander Byer as Reese had used Dusters, Dragonflies, Dummies, and Demons, so she felt she understood when each was used. But she knew that was far different from having used them—theory versus practice.
* * *
Katlin made no attempt to kill the opposing cruiser on her first session. She spent the time becoming familiar with the controls and working with the various missiles. Her ship was destroyed five of her six tries.
During her second and third sessions, she concentrated on killing the opposing cruiser and succeeded fifty percent of the time. Her objective had been to test which techniques worked the best. On her fourth and fifth sessions, she experimented, using less than a full load of missiles. This time her intention was to determine the fewest number of missiles necessary to disable the opposing cruiser. She didn't know what kind of tests Captain Pavao had devised, but was certain it would involve more than one opponent. Katlin left satisfied she was as ready as she could be.
Two days later, Katlin reported for her test. Today only one simulator was in the room. She braced to attention and saluted when Captain Pavao walked out from the back of the simulator.
"At ease, Katlin. Your test will take several hours to complete. The objective for each engagement is to cause as much damage as possible to the enemy with as little loss of crew lives as possible. Do you understand?"
Katlin smiled after several seconds considering Pavao's instruction. "Yes, ma'am." It sounded like Leader Reese's fight smart philosophy. Pavao waved toward the simulator, and Katlin entered and got comfortable.
"Press the start button when you’re ready," Pavao said over the booth's speakers. Katlin sat relaxing for a few minutes, then pressed the button. Nothing happened for several minutes, then a cruiser appeared and dispatched twenty fighters…
Two hours later, Katlin emerged dripping with sweat from the tension, euphoric with the thought of commanding a cruiser and terrified she would fail to qualify. Commander Byer had said she would command a fighter unit on one of the Riss cruisers if she wasn't accepted. Before the simulator, that had seemed a great second-place prize, but after her experience in the simulator, her life seemed to depend on commanding a cruiser. When Pavao exited the instructor's booth, Katlin stopped breathing. On the seventh exercise, her assignment had been to destroy a space station guarded by a squadron of six Lights. She couldn't figure any way to destroy the space station without having her cruiser destroyed. Dejected, she had left without firing a shot. She now wondered if she had taken the coward's way out.
"Well done, Katlin. You demonstrated good judgment—excellent, considering you've never been assigned to the Bridge of a cruiser. You will get an official notice, but I'll tell you unofficially you passed the tactical portion," Pavao said when she reached Katlin, who let out the breath she had been holding. "I think the hardest part for ex-SAS personnel is thinking it's cowardice not to try to destroy the space station, or conversely that it's heroic to try. You'll be notified when the Riss are available to interview you."
Katllin saluted…she hoped. She couldn't remember any more than what she’d had for dinner or who she might have talked to. All she could think about was being on the Bridge of a Riss cruiser. She ignored that she still had to be selected by a Riss.
Riss-human testing
Two days later, a limo transported Katlin to a small town an hour out of Freeland City to a secluded spot were twenty-five Riss sat. Katlin froze several feet before the empty chair which was obviously meant for her. As crew on the Mnemosyne, she had been around Riss for years but now realized she had seldom talked to Riss, and then only briefly on rare occasions when she had found something wrong with her fighter or had a question about a new feature. She knew they were intelligent but had never engaged them as she would have a human mechanic.
**Please sit, Commander Katlin. We don't bite,** said the voice box of the large grey-haired Riss in the middle with a hint of amusement. **We want to get to know you and for you to know us. It will help you and each of us to decide whether we will be comfortable as constant companions.**
Katlin recovered enough to walk to the chair and sit. "I apologize. I suddenly realized the importance of this meeting and froze, not sure what is expected…and I'm scared."
**Of what?** a Riss asked. She looked younger, judging by her darker colored hair.
"Of failing…not being selected."
**Why?** the same Riss asked.
"I want to command a Riss cruiser."
**Why?**
Katlin sat quiet for a long time, searching for the answer. "To be a significant part of helping to save the Riss and Freeland," she said, knowing it sounded like something a person would say to impress the Riss, but it wasn't and she wished she could take it back.
**Why?**
"I could say because I'm a Freelander, but I became a Freelander because I admire Leader Reese and her philosophy. I'll never be a Leader Reese, but I feel I'm ready to contribute to protecting Freeland and our way of life…" The session went on for hours, until the old grey-haired Riss raised a hand to stop.
**Katlin, we have enjoyed talking with you and appreciate your honesty, so let us be equally candid. We have six human candidates to interview, two positions open, and twenty-five Riss willing to be hosted by a human if one or more of us feels one or more of the six will make a good companion. If we find more than two humans acceptable, we will select the two we feel will make the best matches. If it's less than two, then one position will go unfilled. The humans and the Riss have learned the hard way that less than ideal matches fail. Consequently, it's too early to say anything.**
The discussion with the Riss had somewhat relieved Katlin's concern over hosting a Riss. She’d had a lengthy exchange with every Riss during the meeting, enough to have a feeling about each. It felt like a speed dating event where the participants were looking for the ideal mate. Except this wasn't a date. It was a marriage. But it helped her identify with the Riss as individuals, some she thought she would like and others she wouldn't. Not because they weren't good people but because of their interests and personalities. She realized the twenty-five Riss would also have an opinion about her. A twice troubling thought. What if nobody liked her or thought her a good match, or somebody liked her who she didn't think a good match? By the end of the night she had a Medusa-sized headache.
Katlin learned that the Riss conducted two sessions a day and therefore it would take a minimum of three days for a decision. Minimum, because there was no guarantee that the Riss wouldn't want more sessions—she would when deciding on a marriage partner. So each day seemed like a week and she wished she were back on the Mnemosyne, where she would have work to keep her mind busy. Instead she tried to find things to do on Freeland, but it was hard to get interested when her mind kept dwelling on the interview—what she had said, what they had said, what she should have said, what they had meant by what they said…
The night of the third day she was notified the Riss wanted another session with her the afternoon of the fourth day. She slept little that night, trying to decide if that was a good or bad thing. When she woke late the next morning, she’d had enough. If no one likes me the way I am, then it's best I'm not selected, and if someone likes me, I will make it work for both of us. That settled, she had a leisurely breakfast, changed into comfortable clothes, and arrived on time for her session.
Katlin noticed early that all the questions were coming from just three Riss, which caused her to delve into their lives and interests. As the afternoon passed, the questions were from two, and by evening she and the Riss called The Seeker were in a one-on-one conversation.
"Thank you, Katlin," the grey-haired Riss said, cutting off further conversation. "If you are still interested in hosting a Riss, you should report to Doctor Dayton for the required physical. The Seeker believes you and she would make a good match."
Katlin walked away ecstatic—she would be a cruiser captain—and petrified—she was going to marry a woman with whom she had only had two speed-dating sessions.
A Riss companion
When Katlin woke, Captain Jaelle was sitting in a chair next to her bed.
"Good morning, Katlin. I've laid out a Riss-human uniform for you, and I suggest we have breakfast. I've been assigned as your coach while you and your Riss companion get adjusted. We can talk while we eat."
"Thank you, Captain Jaelle—"
"Just Jaelle. As Riss, we are all equal."
"What now?"
"First, you need to teach your companion, The One Who Seeks to Understand, your way of speaking. She needs to hear you speak. You can speak out loud or just distinct thoughts. For example, I am walking, or I am going to the Mess Hall to eat, etc. She already knows all the words but needs to hear them to understand your mental processes. If you keep it up for several days, she will soon be able to communicate with you. Don't worry if at first she only mimics your words."
"And next?"
"Spend time on your SID doing research. You will find reading with a Riss an interesting experience. You might start by researching ancient goddesses. She will need a human—well, a human-named—goddess's name. Contact me anytime you have a question, but regardless, meet me here each day for breakfast and dinner."
Following Jaelle'sinstructions, Katlin walked around theDruantia visiting each section and talking non-stop. She became concerned when she had no response for the first two days. On the morning of the third day, she stood in the Fresher turning pink while contemplating the problem and wondering if the Riss had died.
Startled, Katlin spun around, slipped, landed on her ass, and broke out laughing. "Good morning, Seeker, and welcome."
Nidaba sent with a vid of a Riss with one eye looking through a magnifying glass, the other through a telescope, and both hands with pens writing.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Candidate Ja'Sai
Curt Ja'Sai entered the Freeland courthouse feeling like he was there to hear the long awaited verdict—free or condemned to prison for life. Inside the courtroom the wooden benches were half full with a mixture of Freelanders—many serving as attached crew on Riss cruisers, civilians like himself, and ex-SAS personnel. He saw no one he recognized from the old days of raiding. He felt like a dying breed. A dinosaur whose time had passed. He took a seat in the empty back row.
Sometime later when the room was almost full, a middle-aged woman of average height entered from the judge's door, followed by two security guards. Her short brunette hair and light complexion emphasized the old-English floral Rh tattoo which covered the left side of her face. She strode to the railing that separated the spectator benches from the court participants and stood facing the group.
"I'm Captain Sheva, a Riss-human. Today's session will be an orientation on the Riss-human program—what is involved, what it takes to qualify, what it takes to be accepted, and what it means to be a Riss-human." She explained that the Riss were parasites and all the gory details of how they would inhabit the host's body. If her speech was meant to reduce the number of potential candidates, it worked—the room had fewer people after a short break.
Under normal circumstances, Ja'Sai would also have left. It sounded disgusting, having a parasite not only invade your body but be able to control you and your functions. But he was a desperate man willing to do anything to fly again. The SAS had destroyed the Freeland navy and grounded the merchant ships. Under the Riss' rules, the existing merchants could fly but no new ships could be built, destroying any chance of him being in space again—he did not want to be crew on a merchant ship or even first mate. The thought was unthinkable.
Having no options, he had returned to the Ja'Sai clan compound, feeling like a bird with broken wings. He had visited the Raider House a few times, but that had proved depressing. The talk had turned increasingly hostile toward the general population, who seemed comfortable working to support the SAS and Riss. Several of the ex-raiders had committed suicide, and many others were now addicted to alcohol or drugs, so he ceased going, preferring to sulk on his own. The offer to become a Riss-human and command a ship of war was like being revived from a near death experience, and he grasped at it like a drowning man to the floating debris of a wrecked ship.
The voice of Captain Sheva jarred him out of his musing. "What does it take to qualify for the program? Ideally, experience as the captain of a cruiser during wartime, and good tactical judgment."
Ja'Sai felt an adrenaline surge and straightened in his seat.
After a short pause, she continued. "That's the ideal. We will consider other wartime experience." She went on to say they didn't care about the candidate's age or health, so long as they were in reasonable condition for their age.
A glimmer of hope surged through Ja'Sai as he typed a synopsis of his command experience. It took a long time, because most of it had been on raids against poorly armed and unprepared people and ships. He wasn't proud of those raids and thanked the space gods his clan were no longer raiders while cursing the SAS for grounding them—not that they didn’t deserve it. Fortunately, the Riss weren't vindictive and treated the Freelanders as equals. They had even made Da'Maass a captain of a Riss cruiser, and he was as ruthless as any of the Freeland raider captains. If they accepted him as a candidate, he felt he had a chance.
Later that day, Ja'Sai was notified he had been accepted. The next day he sat through a demonstration of a Riss simulator and its missiles and afterward spent several sessions becoming comfortable with the various missile types. That evening, he contacted Da'Maass, who agreed t
o meet him the next day at the Raider House.
* * *
"You look like road kill, my friend," Da'Maass said as he approached the table where Ja'Sai sat sipping a Freeland dark beer. A large pitcher of the same beer and a second mug sat near the empty chair.
"I’m alive, but with two broken wings. You look ten years younger, Da'Maass," Ja'Sai said, rising and giving him a hug and a thump on the back.
"I understand you've applied for the Riss-human program and been accepted for testing. Tired of doing nothing?"
"My clan's tired of me doing nothing. I've tried, but nothing interests me. I don't miss the raiding, I miss the flying … and to be truthful the engagements with JPU cruisers." Ja'Sai's face became animated for the first time since Da'Maass had arrived.
Da'Maass filled the empty mug and gulped down a quarter of it before speaking. "You obviously want my advice and inside information." He put the mug down and wiped the foam from his beard, then laughed. "The good news is that there are no secrets to give away. The Riss-humans will want to see how good a tactician you are. They will do that by testing your judgment in a simulator. You should have no trouble with the test. You aren't reckless or impulsive, as several JPU cruiser captains would attest if they could." Da'Maass took another swig of his beer. "The interview is the tricky part. My advice: be painfully honest. Don't try to tell them what you think they want to hear."
* * *
Da'Maass had been right, and Ja'Sai did well on the simulator tests. He felt exhausted when he finished, because the tests were designed like puzzles with multiple solutions but only one solution produced the maximum damage on the enemy and the minimum casualties. Ja'Sai had missed the ideal opportunity until too late in the first simulation, but had been ready during the subsequent scenarios. He suspected they had been real engagements. But Da'Maass had implied his real test would be the interview with the Riss.