by Terry Mixon
“When I agreed to come on this mission, I was told that I was required to seize a piece of property inside the Singularity to cement the ruse that I was a pirate. I’m going to use the technicalities of the law against those who would like to take you away and declare you as my booty.”
Andrea’s frown deepened. “What is… booty?”
Fei put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Back in the old days on Terra, there were pirates. When one of them seized someone else’s property, they called it booty. So, while the precise origin of the word is lost in the sands of time, we were issued what they call a Letter of Marque and Reprisal.
“Rather than being pirates, the Empire considers us privateers. It’s a fine distinction that the Singularity wouldn’t recognize, but it legally protects us from the consequences of the instructions we were given in the Empire once we get home.
“It’s my understanding that the Singularity does something similar. That gives both sides a level of plausible deniability so that outright war doesn’t break out.
“One of the end results of this is that the emperor has instructed that these pieces of property that we seize as our own personal booty belong to us and may not be disputed by anyone, not even the emperor himself.
“And that’s how Grace is going to protect you. By declaring you as her property, she shields you from anyone else that might want to take custody of you. Under the law, they cannot.”
Grace nodded. “Even though the Empire labels me as your owner, I see myself as your guardian. You are not my property. All of this is a legal fiction meant to protect you.”
“How can I know that’s true?” Andrea asked. “I don’t know you. You could be telling me this to keep me calm until you hand me over to whatever butchers are going to cut me apart.”
“Actions speak louder than words. I think the easiest way to show you how you’re going to be treated is to let you make up your own mind about the situation that you’re in. All I’m doing is telling you so that you’ll know what I’m thinking.
“When I agreed to this mission, I became a private citizen and was promised that I could return to the Imperial Marines as soon as it was done. If, of course, I survived.
“With you as my booty, the career that I’ve worked so hard to build is gone. They’re never going to allow me back into the Corps. I’m going to have to find a new way forward, and you’re going to be a big part of it.”
“First, why do you refer to the Imperial Marines as a dead body?”
The question startled Grace, and she almost laughed. “Sorry. The words sound similar in Standard but mean different things, and I mispronounced it in the tongue. In this case, ‘Corps’ refers to the marines as a military organization.”
“Okay… So, why would the Imperial Marines not let you back in? That doesn’t make any sense to me.”
“There are several reasons. First, they’re going to be upset that I’ve done this. They’re going to apply a lot of pressure on me to change my mind. It’s not going to work, and that’ll make them even angrier.
“Second, as an Imperial Marine, there would be no place in my life for a child. It’s a dangerous job, and any of us could die at any moment, just like Anne Marie Scott. I don’t know if you remember her death, but we lost her while escaping from the station. You might’ve already been unconscious by then.
“So, the level of danger means that a marine really can’t risk having a permanent relationship with anyone. Casual lovers are fine, but spouses are not. Neither are children. The risk of leaving them orphaned or widowed is just too high. It would be cruel of us to do that, and I won’t be a party to it.”
The girl stood silent for a few seconds. “I don’t remember very much after I fell into the darkness. I’m sorry that someone became too close to you. The crèche taught me that it’s unwise to allow others to be too close to you. It hurts when they are taken.”
“I think you’ve learned the wrong lesson,” Grace said as she squatted down beside the girl. “Life is fleeting. Treasure it while you can. Marines know that death might await us around any corner when we’re on a mission. Things can go wrong, and you might have to make a choice that trades your life for someone else’s.
“Anne Marie Scott offered up her life so that her friends and comrades could live. She didn’t know you, but she traded her life for yours as well. That’s part of what makes being a marine special.
“With a child as my responsibility, I don’t have that luxury anymore. I’ve got to take care of you, and that’s going to be my focus. That means that I can’t be a marine anymore since I can’t make those hard choices. In effect, I’m giving my life for yours right now, only I’m not dying.
“That stings a bit, but we’ll be building a new life together. The two of us will figure out what we need to do.
“I’m not saying that it’s going to be easy. I’m sure that there are going to be times when you hate me. I’m sure that there are going to be times when I want to pull my hair out. We’ll get past them together.”
Andrea nodded slowly. “I think I understand, and I’m willing to give you a chance to prove that you’re telling the truth. I think I’d like to know more about this person who died for me.
“I’ve known line sibs who’ve died, though I was never there when it happened. They were always taken away and simply never returned. None of us would have considered exchanging our lives for any of them. It just wasn’t done.
“I need to know more about the person who did that for me. I need to understand why she did it. Perhaps in doing so, I will understand the Empire and the Imperial Marines better.”
“I’ll explain it to you,” Fei said. “I have helmet video of her death, though it’s not pretty to watch. If you’d like to see it—and Grace approves—I’ll show it to you.”
“If Andrea wants to see it, then show it to her,” Grace said. “She can handle it, I think. Now, we need to get something to eat. We’re also going to meet someone special today. Someone from your society who’s been working with us.”
“You found someone inside the Singularity that was willing to work with you?” Andrea asked, sounding surprised. “I would’ve thought that the hatred between the Empire and the Singularity was too great for something like that.”
Grace chuckled. “Remind me to explain to you how money can open doors. In a society like the Singularity—or the Empire for that matter—money talks. Not literally, but you’ll find people willing to do just about anything if you have enough of it.”
“Money? I don’t understand what that is.”
That turned Grace’s chuckle into an outright laugh. “I think I’ll leave explaining that to Kayden. He’s the man who used to own this ship before the Empire bought it. He was a merchant inside the Singularity and worked with Imperial Intelligence to help us spy on your former people.
“He’s a complicated man who has no love for the ruling caste, but he’s made it clear that he wants to help you adjust to life outside of the Singularity. I’m not saying that it’s going to be easy for either of you, but I ask that you give him a chance.
“He’s going to explain how the ruling caste treats regular citizens of the Singularity. He comes from what you’d call the base caste. He doesn’t have any tattoos like yours, and he knows the Singularity from the bottom up. He’s traveled inside the Empire and knows what life there is like, too.
“If you can listen to what he’s saying with an open mind, then I think there’s a lot he has to teach you. He can show you how things are from both points of view. He can interpret for you, if you allow it.”
“I’ll try,” Andrea declared. “I’d never met anyone from outside the crèche until yesterday, and I’m not sure why he would hate the ruling caste, but I want to understand. I’m beginning to get the feeling that I’ve been told lies my entire life, and I want to know the truth.”
“Then let’s go start down this new path together. It’ll be much easier for everyone that way. Besides, I’
m starving.”
23
Once her new skinsuit was fully fitted, One Twenty-Four followed Grace to the ship’s mess. That was another use of a word that she just didn’t understand. The room was both spotless and neatly organized, so it was the opposite of messy.
Why did these Imperials have such strange names for things? It was incomprehensible.
While the room was large enough to hold at least a dozen people and had plenty of tables for them to eat at, it was almost empty when they arrived, though she could hear the sound of someone moving around in a connected room.
The single occupant was a man dressed in oddly bright clothing with his feet propped up on a chair, seated at a table that sat against one of the walls. He smiled and motioned for them to join him as he rose.
Grace stopped short of the table and gestured toward the man. “Andrea, this is Kayden Harmon. He’s the former owner of this ship and worked as a merchant throughout this part of the Singularity and the fringes around it for the last several decades. Kayden, Andrea.”
Though the man smiled at her, One Twenty-Four could see that the emotion he was feeling was not happiness. She wasn’t quite certain what he felt, but based on what Grace had told her, it wasn’t likely to be a pleasant emotion.
Nevertheless, he extended a hand toward her. “I can’t say that I’m exactly happy to meet you, at least not yet. Perhaps that will come in time. Please, have a seat. We got a lot to talk about.”
Though his enunciation was somewhat different than what they’d used in the crèche, he was significantly more fluent with the tongue than Fei. That meant that he was far better than Grace.
Feeling more than a little intimidated, One Twenty-Four said nothing as she sat where the man’s feet had been propped up. Grace took the seat next to her just as someone stepped in from the other room with a tray holding what One Twenty-Four assumed was food.
It seemed that eating on the ship was different than how it had worked in the crèche. All food preparation there had been automated, with each portion size determined in advance. Food was nothing more than fuel for their bodies, so it didn’t warrant very much attention.
One Twenty-Four examined the contents of the platters as the man laid out eating utensils and began pouring an orange-colored liquid into tall glasses. Everything smelled interesting.
Once he’d finished that task, he poured black liquid into smaller cups. She noted that she hadn’t gotten any of the black liquid and wondered why.
In the crèche, breakfast had consisted of oatmeal mixed with fruit and nuts. Based simply on the smell of these new foods, this meal would be a very different experience than she was used to.
The largest platter held flat, circular pieces of bread that seemed to have been poured into place while being cooked. Another platter held clumps of yellowish material that she couldn’t identify. The final platter held long strips of what seemed to be blackened meat of some kind.
“What are these?” she asked Grace while gesturing toward the bread.
“You’ve never had pancakes?” the woman asked. “Basically, you take the ingredients and mix them into a thick liquid, which you then pour onto a hot griddle. Yeast causes them to rise as they’re heated. The containers beside the platter hold butter and syrup that you can use to flavor them.”
She pointed toward the clumps of yellowish material. “These are scrambled eggs. Have you ever had eggs?”
One Twenty-Four shook her head. “No. Our breakfasts consisted of oatmeal with fruit mixed in. Lunch and dinner were different every day, but there was never anything like eggs. Or anything else on this table, for that matter.”
Grace’s lips curled slightly up. “Then I think you’re going to be pleasantly surprised. The final platter holds bacon, or as I prefer to call it, the king of meats. They’re thin strips of pork that have been fried. They’re quite savory.
“You can try whatever you like. If nothing suits you, I’ll have Ray whip up something more to your taste.”
“Would you show me how these are best eaten?”
“Of course.” Grace grabbed One Twenty-Four’s plate and used several serving utensils to retrieve a couple of pancakes, a scoop of scrambled eggs, and a couple of strips of bacon. She set the plate in front of One Twenty-Four.
“I suggest that you take a bite of the pancakes before you add butter or syrup to see if you like the flavor. As far as the eggs, we have both salt and pepper to season them with, but do a little testing to find out if you like the flavor before you add too much.
“Your tall glass is filled with orange juice. Oranges are a fruit that originated on Terra and are very common in both the Empire and the Singularity. You haven’t had that either?”
Grace shook her head. “No. What’s the black liquid?”
“The nectar of the gods,” Grace said solemnly. “That’s coffee. It’s where we get caffeine from, and that helps keep marines going. Caffeine is a stimulant. The reason Ray didn’t pour you any is that children typically don’t like the taste, and caffeine isn’t good for them, as they’re still developing.”
One Twenty-Four considered that and frowned. “Can I try it?”
Kayden, who’d been watching the interplay with interest, slid his cup of coffee over in front of her. “You can have mine, and I’ll get another. Coffee is quite bitter without sweetener, so you might want to add a little bit of sugar and creamer. If those aren’t to your taste, there are artificial sweeteners as well.
“The sweeteners take a bit of the bite out of the coffee, and the creamer blunts the edge of the bitterness. When you find the right mixture for your coffee, it’s often a drink that you don’t want to pass up in the morning.
“Some people—like me—prefer it without additions. I believe that black coffee is the perfect wake-up call. I find it bolsters one quite well to field the day.”
The man looked over at Grace. “I’ve read that the intake of caffeine isn’t a big deal with modern medical care. I don’t think that it’s anything to really worry about.”
With so many things to try, One Twenty-Four wasn’t certain where to begin. She decided to start with the tall glass of orange juice. The cold liquid ended up being sweet and somewhat acidic. On reflection, she decided that she liked the taste.
Coffee, on the other hand, was very bitter. Still, because she saw Grace drinking hers with a form of reverence, One Twenty-Four didn’t reject the drink out of hand.
She added some sugar and creamer, and it became somewhat more palatable. She’d reserve judgment and give it a more extended trial before making any lasting decisions about it. Perhaps it would grow on her.
The pancakes were light and fluffy, but somewhat dry. The addition of butter removed some of the dryness, and she approved. The butter itself was creamy, and she liked it.
It was the addition of syrup, however, that made her close her eyes in pleasure. She knew without a doubt that she was going to be a big fan of pancakes and syrup.
The eggs were interesting but bland. The addition of salt and pepper improved their taste considerably. They were certainly better than oatmeal, but she didn’t think that they were even half as good as pancakes and syrup.
The bacon was unlike anything she’d ever eaten. Meats used in the crèche were just elements of whatever stew or dish was being served. Everything was prepared automatically, so she’d never seen individually cooked pieces of meat before.
These strips were both crisp and yet slightly chewy. Their flavor was intense, and it made her mouth explode with pleasure. They were far better than the pancakes. The two strips that she’d been given were quickly consumed, and she grabbed a couple more, adding syrup on top of them, which made them even more delicious.
She considered taking more bacon but decided that would draw too much attention. This was still a time where she couldn’t afford to stand out. Perhaps there would be more tomorrow morning.
None of them spoke as they ate, but she could see that Kayden was watching h
er closely. As Grace had said, his lack of facial tattoos indicated he was part of the base caste. If she’d graduated from the crèche, she’d never have met someone from his stratum of society.
Every time Keeper had mentioned them, it had been in a disparaging tone. If he held a similar opinion of the ruling caste, it would be perfectly understandable if he disliked her. Perhaps even hated her.
She turned her attention to Grace as they sat drinking another cup of coffee. The woman wasn’t looking at her, though she certainly tried to make it appear that she was. Her gaze rested on Kayden, though she seemed to be trying to conceal that fact.
Interesting. One Twenty-Four wondered why. Whatever the reason, it was just one more mystery to try to figure out on her own, as it wasn’t her place to inquire.
Kayden set his coffee cup down and focused his attention entirely on her. “Do you mind if I call you Andrea? I’m quite certain that the ruling caste wouldn’t approve of you using that name, which means that I like it quite a lot.”
One Twenty-Four shrugged. “It’s my new name, so I’m not certain what else you’d call me. I can no longer use One Twenty-Four.”
He laughed. “They referred to you by a numeric designation? How very practical, while still being cold and uncaring.
“Well then, Andrea, I know that Grace has told you about some of the differences between the Singularity and the Empire. While I don’t know the specifics of what she’s said, I intend to expand upon your knowledge. It will be my duty to guide you through the process of transitioning to the world outside the crèche over the next few weeks or months.
“While I have no knowledge of what went on inside the crèche, I do have a fair bit of insight into how the ruling caste behaves in the society at large. You’ve undoubtedly led a sheltered life, and I’m afraid this news is going to be shocking to you.
“Then again, you appear to have had a tough existence inside the crèche, so perhaps this information won’t be as big a shock as I believe.”