Faced with a conflict that was bound to antagonize everyone, the Citizens judging the suits had decided to put it to a popular vote in the District. They reserved the right to make the final decision, but had decided that a popular choice was necessary to that decision-making process.
The election was scheduled for six divs. Anyone was welcome to code a vote to Citizens' court, with residence number attached. Many did. Many others gathered in the parks and the Council building to hear final arguments. The lifter-elevated screen rippling in the breeze showed the discussions and a massive crowd formed, most arriving within a few segs of the voting time.
Cameras and aides were in place and the choices were read. "For the western route, through Parkfield Business Park, at the expense of JSC."
"Aye!" Kendra thought that best. The 'port would have to raise fees slightly or cut corners elsewhere, but it would be cheaper than distancing three towns' ground traffic.
"For the middle route, around the towns of Greenwood, Franklin and New Muncie."
"Aye!"
"For the eastern route, along the bay."
"Aye!" That last was clearly not popular and the few raised hands and voices were followed by good-natured chuckling, some of it from the voters who supported that lost cause.
"To be confirmed by review, the population votes for the western route."
That was it. Election over in ten seconds. Did these people do nothing at a slow, respectable pace?
She could determine why the park was used, anyway. Most of the voters stayed to socialize. She should have expected it. She had a soft drink and a sandwich from a vendor, watched a couple of performers and headed home.
There was a message waiting on her comm. Pulling off her boots, she sat back and cued it.
"Hi there," said a familiar redheaded woman. It was Jelsie Romar. "Told you I'd be home about now. It looks as if you're doing well. I'd like to stop by about six-fifty. Call me and let me know. Two nine nine nine three, two nine three seven five five. Bye."
Kendra said, "Place call to code from message."
"Dialing."
On the third flash, the call was answered. "Romar. Oh, hi. Glad you're there. You see, I have this body." She grinned.
Laughing, Kendra replied, "You're in luck. I work for Jefferson Parks, so I have a shovel."
Romar whooped in response. "You got my message I assume?" she asked.
"Sure. Come on over."
"Be there in twenty."
Jelsie hit it off with Marta as well as she had with Kendra. She was just very nice and sweet. She was also very religious, Kendra discovered. They were at Marta's place with Rob and Drew and were still talking and drinking as dark fell. "Oh, shoot!" Jelsie gasped, looking outside at the purple sky. "Full Gealach tonight! I'm supposed to do ritual!"
"We can do it here," Marta said. "My shrine is small, but you're welcome."
Breathing deeply, Jelsie said, "Thanks. You want to lead or should I?"
"You go ahead," Marta said. "This way."
Drew went along, partly for the service, partly to watch Jelsie. He had a thing for redheads. Rob went along to watch both women, and Kendra followed from curiosity.
Marta's shrine was all the way up in a loft, with windows facing in all directions and a skylight, too. It had soft lighting, a stone as an altar, and several bottles, bowls and bundles of incense. It was in earth tones throughout, with cushions and a low couch.
Jelsie and Marta stripped and donned robes. The others took seats on the cushions and waited. Romar selected an incense block from the abundant rack, placed it in a tray and set candles around the stone. She lit one, used it to light others and the block of incense and spoke the lights out. Then she took a goblet from the rack and poured wine.
Kendra had seen this ritual before, but Romar seemed to glow from within with passion. She added an invocation to Gealach before closing. She hugged and lightly kissed them all as she closed, then sat back, sweating lightly from the exertion.
"Oath of Blades?" Drew asked into the silence.
"Sure." "Yes." "Might as well." were the answers. Kendra didn't know what it was and kept silent.
Marta drew a sword from a rack on the wall and laid it in front of her. Drew and Jelsie pulled out their service knives and Rob produced his usual "utility" blade, all twenty-five centimeters of it. All lay on the altar, facing the center. Kendra looked askance at Rob, who gave her a very slight nod that she should just sit.
Jelsie blew smoke from the incense block gently across the blades, Marta sprinkled a drop of wine onto each from a finger. As one, they raised them vertically with both hands and dipped the tips toward the central candle flame. Drew sprinkled clove-scented oil onto a silk cloth and Rob took each blade in turn and wiped them clean. Again, the blades were presented toward the flame. The four intoned together, "Our blades, our bodies, our souls. For God, Goddess and the Freehold." They passed the blades flat across their palms and sheathed them. Kendra nodded in understanding. It was a ritual exclusive to the military. She knew many people who regarded military rituals as silly. She doubted any of those people were prepared to die for a cause. Once again she envied her friends their camaraderie.
They were shortly back downstairs again. "Thank you, Marta," Jelsie said. She sounded very relieved.
"Glad to," Mar replied.
They stayed all night. Marta made a polite hint to Jelsie, who declined. She considered Drew's offer for some time, then agreed to it. He looked delighted. Kendra shared a look with Rob, and they grinned, reading each other's thoughts. They glanced at Marta, who said, "Go ahead. I do sleep alone on occasion."
"Do you want to join us?" Kendra asked.
"Of course. But I don't want to impose."
"Oh, come on!" Kendra grinned. She loved getting attention and it was sensual to give. Marta's sexuality was a palpable thing, and very inspiring.
"If you're going to twist my arm . . ." Marta said and laughed, loudly.
Chapter 15
"Back to the Army again, sergeant,
Back to the army again.
'Ow did I learn to do right-about-turn?
I'm back to the Army again."
—Rudyard Kipling, "Back to the Army Again"
"Could I see you, Kendra?" Hiroki asked quietly, looking rather upset.
"Cert," she agreed. "What goes?" She followed him into his office. He offered her a seat. She saw both Karen and Citizen Hernandez as she took it, and felt suddenly bothered.
"The city has had to cut our stipend totally," Hiroki said.
Hernandez continued, "Not by choice. But the economic crunch is hitting us. We have a duty to provide support to the military, and with trade reduced, our contributions from corporate sources have shrunk. There are several areas that can no longer be funded for the foreseeable future."
Hiroki picked up, "As I'm sure you've figured, Karen and I are the only permanent contractors. The others are hired as-needed, and the labor pool are all court prisoners. We've cut into the budget for landscaping, raised the fees for rental, but what it finally comes down to is we have no work for you to do and no money to pay you. We are very regretfully going to have to terminate your contract." He flushed red at the admission and looked thoroughly ashamed. Kendra had learned that terminating an employee for other than disciplinary reasons was considered very discourteous, almost criminal.
She replied, "I understand, Hiroki. It's not your fault." After a moment's silence and a nod from him, she turned to Hernandez and asked, "My contract is being resold then? How much input do I get?"
"Your contract was paid by the park," Hernandez said, leaning back. "So it is terminated with no prejudice to you. It's the least we can do, since you are going to be out of work. Your debt is paid. I'll be happy to help you find something else. And possibly advance you funds for travel or such."
"Thank you, sir, but I have savings," she insisted. "And I'd like to explore my own resources first."
"Please come by to visit whenev
er you like," Karen said. She apparently had been there as emotional support for Hiroki. "And if something comes up, we'll let you know immediately."
"Thank you," Kendra said, her brain considering possibilities. She made awkward small talk that tapered off and finally said goodbye and left, retrieving her few possessions from her locker. She headed back for Marta's, having no other place to go at the moment.
* * *
"Okay," Rob said after she told him, "So you are paid off less than halfway through your contract, unemployed and have savings. There are far worse situations."
"Oh, sure," she agreed, "but I'm still unemployed and have limited savings. And I don't think anyone wants a cultural assessment of Earth at this point." She smiled wryly.
Marta came through from the kitchen and said, "You can stay here as long as you want, love. You know that."
"Thanks," she said. "But I won't take charity. I'll pay for my board."
Marta started to object, but caught Rob's expression. She didn't understand it, but she held her comments.
Rob knew she felt out of place and why she couldn't take charity from friends. She might take it from a government, but there was no such here. The irony was amusing, since most Freeholders were diametrically opposed to her position, from the same motives.
"Come," Rob said with a gesture. "There's someone I want you to meet." He rose and headed for the vehicle bay. She followed him and strapped in.
He drove across town to a smaller business park, Park North. Like most, it actually was a privately owned, publicly accessible park with commercial and light industrial businesses surrounding it. He stopped near one edge, in what was technically a retail area. The sign above them said Military Recruiting Station.
Kendra said, "But—" but he cut her off and led her inside.
By the end of the day, she was back in the military. She liked serving and being useful, and part of her homesickness had been for her military life. The Freehold forces impressed her and it hadn't taken much suggestion. The recruiter naturally was eager to meet his quota, but few slots were available. However, hearing of her prior service had made his job easier and he'd offered her the rank of corporal. She accepted, signed and was initially sworn in. In back, the old routine of placement tests and physical examination was almost comforting, despite its impersonality. The adminwork was as brief as she was coming to expect and they even had space in logistics. Part of her was nervous, but another part was thrilled at being part of a team again, of belonging to society. Rob had stressed that she needed placement soon and the recruiter scheduled her to leave a week hence. She cheerfully went home and sat down to a celebratory feast with her family, as she was coming to think of them, and slept soundly after gathering her possessions and making plans and lists.
The week was tense. She felt eagerness mixed with anxiety and took it out physically on Rob, who reciprocated even more passionately than usual. They spent a lot of time talking about nothing in particular, and some time talking about training, but always skirting the issue of departure and separation.
"I'm betting this is very different from the UNPF recruit training," he said to her one day at lunch. They were all staying at Marta's for the time being, and the pair of them were sitting at the heavy, carved bluemaple dining table.
"Why?" she asked, between sips of soup.
"Different philosophies," he said. "We're a nation of cooperative loners, doing what has to be done because it's reasonable. Earth for the most part is very social, everyone cooperating because they've been raised to do so. We think differently. And the UN officially regards force as undesirable, talks around the subject and always pretends it's using less than it is. They've got lots of money and personnel and don't have to be efficient. So they have a small operations force within a huge support structure, aimed at bringing strays back into the fold. Whereas we . . . well, what do we need a military for?"
That was something she'd wondered herself. "I'm not really sure."
"Neither are we," he said. "But being independent, we have to have our own. It's small, the ratio of operations to support is huge and the line between them blurred, and we can't expect to fight in nice urban settings, with all the water, power, roads and facilities we'd like."
He described training to her and she knew she should be listening, but it really wasn't what either of them wanted to talk about. She knew he wanted her to stay, she knew he understood why she had to do this, and they were both avoiding the issue.
At least they didn't fight.
Marta was less vocal about the military, more so about missing Kendra. The contrasts between the two women were small enough for them to be good friends, sufficient for Kendra to find interest in everything Marta suggested, even if she decided most of it wasn't to her taste. They spent the week hitting club after club at Mar's urging, building up socialization against the coming enforced weeks of spartan discipline.
Their goodbye was teary. Once again, Kendra was being uprooted from her home and dragged to a strange place to start anew. She'd thought it would be easier, having fewer possessions and family to worry about. It seemed that the dearth thereof made what she had that much more precious.
They all went to the port and sat around a café table, drinking chocolate and coffee, eating spiced snacks and plain quesadillas. "You're staring at me," Kendra said after a while.
"We're going to miss you," Rob said. He was staring at her face, her body, her face again. It was unnerving. Marta said nothing, just gripped her hand.
"I'll be back," she said, smiling. It was forced. Inside, she was nervous. Basic all over again. And what would it be like, with all her experience, to be a raw recruit again?
Soon enough, her flight was called. From habit, they walked briskly, then waited again at the departure lounge. It was still odd not to have any kind of security check. A token few employees stopped eager visitors from walking onto the planes and shuttles and that was it.
She was hugged from both sides, Rob and Marta seemingly determined to cling to her until the last moment. Then Marta kissed her. "Take care, be careful, and hurry back," she said.
Rob in turn gripped her tightly, pulled her close, firm muscles pressing against her from knee to shoulder, and kissed her hard and long. His hands held her at neck and waist. When they broke at last, he said, "Good luck. Love you."
"Love you," she agreed, her eyes damp.
The two hurried away, not looking back.
* * *
Kendra arrived in the town of Rockcliff in late afternoon and had to find her own way to the base. The taxi ride gave her the chance to look at the scenery of the western coastal range, much younger and sharper than the blurred edges of those near the capital. The landscape was vigorous, blue-green and yellow, with purple hazy peaks to the tallest mountains far off to the east.
Rockcliff was actually a considerable distance inland, despite being situated above the west coastal plain, and Mirror Lake was a perfect blue that blended into the sky. With few major roads and only a bare two centuries of development, the city seemed to well up out of the landscape. A modern, geometric corporate headquarters building grew like a massif out of the trees and she marveled again at the sheer, overwhelming sensuality of Grainne's scenery.
Dropped at the gate of the base, she was held until a student escort from training depot could come to get her, then dropped off at a huge barracks complex. She was led to a hundred-bed bay, stifling in the afternoon heat, and introduced to an instructor.
"Sergeant Carpender," her escort said, "Recruit Pacelli."
Carpender was tall, taller than she, and broad shouldered with a barrel chest. His hair was short and wavy brown and his face round and intense. He glanced at his comm and said, "A little early, aren't you?" His voice boomed.
"Transportation problems, sir," she said.
"What's the problem with being early? Never complain about that. You can help over here." He gestured.
Two recruits already in uniform were aligni
ng beds and laying out fresh linen. She assisted by dragging the bedclothes from a truck outside and dropping a bundle on each bed. They were done shortly.
"You two are released back to your section," Carpender told them. "Pacelli, let's get dinner." She followed him across to a dining hall that was blowing out wonderful smells. She knew from more than a year of experience that Freeholders demanded excellent food, even at government facilities, and loaded her plate high after signing in. It wasn't dissimilar from UN facilities so she felt comfortable.
"So, can I ask about your accent?" Carpender inquired, sitting across from her. He'd filled his tray to capacity and then some, and dug in as he sat.
She explained her background in detail, since the recruiters had all the data anyway. He nodded periodically and asked some leading questions. He didn't seem to find her story problematic.
"I've heard all kinds of backgrounds here," he said. "Don't sweat it."
Then he asked, "Am I right that you are a bit below things as far as physical strength?" She agreed. "Okay," he nodded. "Then understand this: on the one hand, there aren't any allowances for that. On the other hand, we don't want you hurt. Keep me informed if there are any problems and we'll either get you supplemental training or, not likely, medical treatment if necessary. If anything has you confused or is outside your experience, ask. You have the right to know you are being treated within our safety requirements, and we need to know about any problems to do that."
She agreed politely and thankfully and returned to the barracks with him. Three other recruits arrived that evening. There were thumping and banging noises at night and when she awoke there were eleven of them. The main rush arrived by bus at 3 divs, bringing the total to fifty.
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