Milor!

by Thomas DePrima

  Jenetta giggled. "I know, Hugh. You always supported me, and I appreciated it. Don't mind my teasing. This is the first time that we've been alone since the court martial."

  Hugh smiled. "I don't mind. I'm glad to see that Space Command has realized what everyone else already knew, that you deserve to be in a senior command position."

  Jenetta sighed. "I just wish that I was aboard a ship."

  "Have you requested a transfer to shipboard duty?"

  "Space Command knows, without my putting it into writing. Admiral Holt has fought to get a shipboard assignment for me, but the Admiralty Board has decided that I should remain here for a full five-year duty tour. Perhaps after that I can get back aboard a ship."

  "It sounds like they're grooming you for something else. Maybe they intend you to be the youngest admiral in Space Command history."

  Jenetta chuckled. "I'd resign my commission and become a freighter officer like you, if I thought that. I can't see flying a desk for the rest of my career."

  "Don't resign your commission just yet. Freighter duty isn't all it may seem to be. It's true that we spend our lives on ships, but it doesn't have the excitement of Space Command. We just fly from point A to point B, drop off some cargo, pick up new cargo, and then leave for a new point B. Since you wiped out the Raiders, there's not even the possibility of an attack to quicken our pulse. And now the company makes us spend half our passage time, during long trips, in stasis sleep so they don't have to pay us full wages for the whole period. They max out our load at ten kilometers every chance they have, even when it means discounting the rates and thus our bonuses."

  "You're just trying to make me feel better."

  "Maybe a little, but I'm serious about most of it. I've also heard that the freight companies are lobbying the Galactic Alliance Council to increase the allowable length on any trip over a hundred light-years. They believe that it's not a problem, as long as the flight path doesn't take it through any inhabited solar systems. With increased loads, they wouldn't mind altering course a little to avoid any heavily trafficked areas."

  "It would allow them to handle more cargo without increasing the crew complement, but it's hard to imagine that the GAC will allow it. Before Space Command established the limit at ten kilometers, our engineers performed extensive testing. They found that the linkage system just couldn't handle the constant stress of longer cargo loads."

  "They're proposing a new link section, made with alloys not available when the old system was designed and tested. Its strength is reputed to be greater by an order of magnitude."

  "An order of magnitude? Are they proposing increasing the maximum length to a hundred kilometers?"

  "No. I doubt that anything like that would fly. I understand that they've petitioned for fifty kilometers, hoping to get twenty-five. And I hear they're using the trip where you hauled a ten kilometer freighter, the Klidestru, with the Vordoth as an example of what's possible. Your length was sixteen kilometers and you didn't report any problems, according to the ship's log."

  "That was under battle conditions. I only did it because it was an emergency."

  "I understand. I'm only telling you what the freight companies are saying to the GAC."

  "Great," Jenetta said sadly. "Space Command will never let me off this rock if they have to listen to a repetitious narrative on my violations of Galactic regulations while I served as a ship's captain."

  "Oh, it's not that bad, Jen. Space Command understands that you were operating under extraordinary circumstances with extenuating conditions each time you deviated from the regs. You wouldn't be where you are if they didn't have confidence in you. Look, I'm sorry for bringing it up. I didn't come here to depress you. I came here to invite you to dine with me tonight?"

  Jenetta pushed her previous feeling aside and smiled. "Love to. My dining room at 1800 hours?"

  "Your dining room? I thought that we might find a nice restaurant on the concourse. I heard that Gregory Harden has opened up a place here."

  "If you'd prefer that, it's fine. I only thought that we'd be able to speak more openly in the base commander's dining facility. No big ears straining to hear every word I utter."

  "Hmm, I hadn't thought about it like that. I guess that people here hang on every word that you say because of your position."

  "Yes, I normally only eat on the concourse when I'm dining alone."

  "Okay, Jen. Your dining room it is. Should I come here, or go directly there?"

  "There. My aide can give you a map so that you can find your way. I'll see that security passes you through."

  "Great. I'll see you at dinner then."

  "Okay, Hugh. I'm looking forward to it already."

  Jenetta left the office early after rushing to complete her work. Hurrying to her quarters with her cats, she bathed and prepared for the meal as if it was a real date. The cats looked at her strangely when she chose to wear a skirt with her dress uniform. It was the first time that she'd worn a skirt or dress since the party at the Nordakian embassy on Higgins, years earlier. Since her body didn't permit any changes, she didn't have to worry about it not fitting. The cats sniffed at her as she put on her stockings, then settled comfortably to watch her continue her preparations. Because of the natural coloring 'programmed' into her DNA by the Raiders, she never had to make up her face, and she wore her hair short to make it easy to care for. Since trimming it from its required long length on Nordakia, it had never exceeded shoulder length.

  Before leaving her quarters, she fed the cats. They tried to go with her as she walked towards the door but she told them to stay, so they returned to their food bowls while she closed the door and walked anxiously towards the elevators.

  Hugh was already in the dining room when she arrived. He stood up at her entrance and she saw that he had 'dressed' for dinner as well. There was no dress uniform in the merchant services so he was wearing civilian clothes in place of the uniform that he had worn earlier.

  "You look great," he said. "I haven't had dinner with a woman in a skirt in over two years."

  "Thank you. You look great also. I like your civvies."

  Hugh looked down at his clothes and chuckled. "I don't get much occasion to wear anything except a uniform. We've been traveling for two years to get here, so my clothes are probably hopelessly out of fashion on Earth."

  "The way fashion trends move these days, you'll probably be back in fashion by the time you get back to Higgins."

  "Won't be the first time I skipped a whole fashion cycle while I was away," he quipped. "I think that fashion reached its zenith, or perhaps its nadir, when body painting came into vogue a couple of hundred years ago. Now it's just the same old recycled looks every few years. There's just so much that can be done with clothing; and it's all been done many times over."

  "As long as fashion like they had on Nordakia until a few years ago doesn't come into vogue, I can put up with almost anything."

  "As I heard it, you completely changed the face of Nordakia."

  Jenetta laughed. "All I did was present them with a computer core I acquired on Dakistee. They took it from there. I don't take any credit for the changes that their civilization has undergone."

  "Still, you were basically responsible for the changes. I'm beginning to think, like most other people, that you can change the galaxy."

  "Me? Change the galaxy? I can't even get off this base."

  "That'll come," he said, "and probably when you least expect it. Uh, I don't want you to think that I'm changing the subject, but my stomach is reminding me that I haven't eaten all day. What's for dinner?"

  "I asked the chef to prepare prime rib. I remembered that it was your first dinner request after we escaped from Raider One."

  "Prime rib? From real Terran beef?"

  Jenetta smiled and nodded. "Of course."

  His face lit up with a smile. "Great. I haven't had any in two years. The freight company doesn't believe in pampering its employees with such non-essentials as
decent food, and we're a long way from Earth."

  "An enterprising Cheblookan rancher had a dozen cows and two bulls brought from Earth about ten years ago. He'd tried to sell his Cheblookan livestock to visiting Terrans but rarely found any interest. I understand that it cost him a small fortune to develop special stasis beds for the transport, but the animals arrived healthy and have thrived on the planet. He runs them on the same pastureland as his domestic Daitwa, and he's developed quite a herd already. I've contracted to purchase all the beef that he'll sell us. We get about half of his annual output, with the rest going to contracts with meat suppliers on several planets. He only sells one mature bovine for every two calves born so his herd continues to enlarge while providing him with a nice return. In the past few years, a number of other ranchers have followed his example and begun raising Terran cows and bulls. Eventually it'll be as easy to get a Terran beef steak out here as it is to get a Cheblookan Daitwa steak."

  "Have you ever eaten Daitwa? It's extremely chewy and has a strange, greasy taste. I can understand why that rancher had trouble selling his livestock to Terrans. Ya know, I've heard that some people have an uncontrollable urge to whinny when they're done eating."

  "I've tried it several times— the Daitwa, not the whinny— but I don't like it. The only way I can tolerate it is when it's part of a heavily spiced stew. I usually stick with fish and vegetables. I've signed long term contracts with several farm co-ops to produce Terran fruit, but it will take years for the apple, orange, plum, peach, and pear orchards to mature and begin producing fruit. We hope to have grapes and pineapples a little sooner. We're getting fresh Terran vegetables by the ton now, because farmers can produce them in one growing season from seeds, and we expect to start receiving chickens and eggs in substantially greater quantities soon. Our main poultry producer has quadrupled his ranch size."

  The mess attendant came to inform Jenetta and Hugh that dinner was ready so they took their seats and began their meal. During the meal, they talked about the times that they had shared and the things that they'd done since parting.

  When the meal was over, Jenetta invited Hugh back to her quarters so they could continue to talk. As they entered the apartment, the cats immediately approached Hugh and smelled him.

  "They won't hurt you," Jenetta said reassuringly. "Just let them smell you and they'll relax."

  "I saw them in your office, but they didn't approach me."

  "They're used to visitors there and don't get excited unless they perceive a threat, but I rarely have visitors up here so they're naturally a bit uneasy right now."

  Hugh stood perfectly still as the cats circled him twice and then moved away. "They seem to have decided that I'm not a threat." Glancing around the enormous living room where they were standing, he said, "Wow! This is fabulous. I had no idea that base commanders lived like this. My entire quarters aboard the freighter would fit in this one room, twenty times over."

  "One of the Raider commandants must have had two executive apartments combined into one. I have two master bedrooms and a conference room sized office, plus a dining room, full galley, and steward's quarters, although I don't have a steward. I eat my meals in my private dining room so that's been more than adequate. I didn't bother changing it back when we were redecorating the housing section. I thought that the admiral sent to assume command would appreciate the quarters as they were."

  "But you turned out to be the admiral?"

  "All the headaches, but none of the pay," Jenetta said smiling. "It's okay. I don't want to give them any idea that I might want to stay on here. Come take a seat and finish your story about your trip to Pelomious."

  Jenetta moved to the large sofa and Hugh sat down immediately next to her. He put his arm on the backrest behind her and continued the story that he had started just before they left the dining room.

  "Next to Earth, it's the most beautiful planet that I've been to. It has large oceans, tall mountains, and vast plains. Its waterfalls are legendary, and from space, it looks a lot like Earth. It has abundant wildlife, none of which is sentient, although some of it is as dangerous as any found on Earth, but the main continent is pretty safe. It's surprising that there are so few settlers there. The government recently estimated the planetary population at just ten million. I guess that with its remoteness, the poor mining opportunities, and so many other planets to choose from, settlers haven't flocked there in great numbers yet. I've purchased a small section for myself. By the time that I'm ready to retire, I should have it paid for."

  "Retire? You're still young."

  "Well, I'm not going to retire for a while yet, but I'm approaching fifty now. I have to start thinking ahead a little. Before I know it, I'll be a hundred and they'll be kicking me out of the way. Maybe I'll raise Terran cattle. As you've said, there's a market for beef out here."

  "That takes a lot of space. How much land did you buy?"

  "Just a small plot, about ten thousand hectares. But it's mostly grassland, and a river borders the land on one side."

  "Small plot? That's a hundred square kilometers."

  "It's small for Pelomious. You have to remember that it's very unpopulated. My nearest actual neighbor is about two hundred kilometers away. Hopefully that will change by the time that I retire. And didn't I hear somewhere that you have a royal estate on Obotymot that's as large as Texas?"

  Jenetta grinned. "It's not as large as Texas. It's only about the size of a combined Kansas and Oklahoma. And it presently isn't producing enough food to feed the small staff of my residence there. Perhaps one day it will be productive again; once the dirt kicked up into the atmosphere by the meteor strike clears. Do you really think that you can settle down on a ranch after a life in space? My father retired a few years ago, and he was going out of his head with boredom. He's back in Space Command, now that they've increased the mandatory retirement age, as the captain of a re-commissioned cruiser on patrol in deca-section 8667-3179."

  "Being a freight hauler isn't much better than being retired, most of the time, but there are times when I actually feel useful. At least we're in space. It might be something for your dad to consider when he reaches 85."

  "Mom's pretty confident that he'll choose to stay in Space Command until he reaches the new mandatory base retirement age of 100, if he can't be in space."

  "If life gets too tame at Headquarters, he should consider short-haul freight operations. Are your grandfathers still working?"

  "No. Mom and Dad are both from Los Angeles. My grandparents all died in the great disaster of twenty-five. It's what prompted my folks to start their family earlier than they intended. They were going to wait until Dad had reached the rank of Lieutenant, but after the disaster, they decided to go ahead right after he completed his training at the Warship Command Institute, while he was still a JG. Billy was born a year later."

  "I'm sorry that you didn't get a chance to know your grandparents. Mine practically raised me because both my parents worked. Grampa Michaels always found time to take me fishing, or to the spaceport to watch the launchings." He paused for a few seconds as he thought about growing up. "It's interesting that your dad returned to Space Command. They contacted me right after the expansion to see if I'd like to return to active duty."

  "You weren't interested?"

  "I was very interested, but I had just signed a new four year contract with the freight company. They refused to release me and sent me off to Stewart for my next trip. Perhaps they thought that I'd come to my senses if I had time to think about it."

  "And have you?"

  "I didn't share the opinion that I was out of my senses to begin with. Freight company owners think only of money, and can't understand anyone who doesn't share their convictions."

  "It comes in handy to those who buy enormous ranches on Pelomious."

  "Yes, it does that," he said smiling. "But I have fifty years to pay that off and sock away enough to live comfortably for my remaining years."

  "Does that m
ean that you're going to return to the service?"

  "I'm seriously entertaining that idea. What do you think?"

  "I can't really imagine doing anything else, even though I might grouse a little to family and close friends from time to time when I'm feeling bored with being posted on a base."

  Hugh had been moving steadily closer as they talked for the past several minutes and Jenetta hadn't pulled away. Their voices had dropped considerably from normal conversation levels and neither was really concentrating on the topic. His face was now just inches from hers. Neither spoke for several seconds. Hugh closed the gap, simultaneously taking his arm down from the backrest and pulling Jenetta closer as their lips met.

  * * *

  Chapter Thirteen

  ~ January 23rd, 2276 ~

  Vyx carefully maneuvered the Scorpion out of the Ottawa's maintenance bay and set the navigational computer to take them to Bajurrsko. The destroyer would remain at its present position just outside the solar system while the agents traveled to the planet and attempted to learn anything they could about a Milori presence there. Vyx had decided that the two female agents should stay aboard the Ottawa. A quick mission to a dangerous environment with potentially hostile individuals was no place for women. But Brenda and Kathleen naturally objected, and proclaimed their feelings in a most vociferous manner.

  "This mission doesn't require any finesse," Vyx told Brenda. "We're going to hang around bars and question inebriated miners, or anyone else that we can bribe to secure the information. This colony doesn't see very many women, outside of those in the 'houses.' You and Kathleen would only distract them from thinking about Milori."

  "What makes you think that we can only do finesse?" Brenda questioned angrily. "We're agents, trained in the same schools as you and the others, and we can be just as hard as the situation calls for. The five of us can cover the colony a lot faster than just the three of you."