Freehold

by Michael Z. Williamson

  Anyone casualtied missed lunch the next day, regardless of whose fault it was. The purpose was to reinforce the risks involved and encourage attention to detail. It became a running joke about the "crash diet" they were all on. It lasted eleven more days, because the long flights into low orbit or the stratosphere made for tedious waiting for flights and flight-time. Kendra was only too glad to be done with it. She'd bruised all over from the impacts and decided that was not the most personnel-friendly way to fight.

  That night, she took a few moments to call home. Rob answered and assured her he and Marta would be there the next evening. She asked if he needed directions and blushed when he replied with a smile, "I'm familiar with the base." Of course he was. She disconnected before she could say anything sappy. That could wait until they met. It felt odd to be talking to them. Unlike the UNPF, Freehold military training enforced separation from friends and family. She realized it had been some weeks since they'd last spoken.

  Day twenty-one. They woke, were trotted to a hangar and drilled again through the basics of parachuting. They did several rehearsals on the ground before departing for the airfac. The traditional VC-6s were waiting and prepared to lift.

  Instead of boarding, they shrugged into harnesses and clipped themselves to racks on the outside, reporting readiness through their helmet mikes. Kendra gulped in fear. She hated heights, and this was not the way she wanted to experience them. Before she could steady her nerves, the pilot lifted, straight up and fast.

  She clung to her webbing and tried to lean back against the side of the craft as it jostled her. Breathe, she reminded herself as she gasped in a lungful of cold, fresh air. It helped. The ground expanded beneath them, features retreating as they drifted over the adjoining drop zone at five hundred meters. She listened to the pilot and instructor coordinating the drop and tried to unclench her knuckles. She had a dizzying view down through a cloud and looked quickly at the horizon as she'd been taught. It didn't help much.

  "Stand by," her helmet advised. She prayed silently and closed her eyes briefly. Before she could finish, the voice said, "Go."

  The snaps popped free and she dropped like the proverbial rock. As it registered, her stomach rose into her throat. Then she was yanked by the static line and gravity pulled her into the harness. "One," she counted, suddenly reminded of the procedure for emergencies, but the gear functioned flawlessly and the backup automatic system was unnecessary, as were the procedures she'd learned in the morning's drills. She counted two, twisted her head to check the canopy for inflation, then stared at it for emotional support. those few kilos of fabric were keeping her from slamming into the ground. The count should have taken through five and she'd screwed it up, but at least her gear was working.

  She grabbed her toggles and steered toward the target, watching for others. She was experiencing a rush and decided she could get used to this in time. Some were far more enthusiastic and two who had prior experience with parachutes were pulling stunts. She hoped they were soundly punished for the crime of enjoying themselves. Then she began to enjoy it herself. Io was shining, the sky was clear and the temperature was comfortably warm inside her jumpsuit. She kept looking up at her canopy for reassurance and back down at the closing ground.

  She touched down near the target and rolled as she'd been taught. With the oversize, overstable gear the students were issued, it was unnecessary, but good practice. One should always get low in combat, she recalled.

  They went up again immediately. Then a third time, jumping through a troop door in the side, then once more off the ramp at the rear. They were all aching from the harnesses tugging at them when they broke for the day.

  They had the evening and next day free for Equinox and Kendra looked eagerly forward to Marta and Rob visiting. They were due about seven. She waited in the dayroom, not wanting to miss them by trying to anticipate their arrival at the gate.

  "Bay, ten-shut!" someone bellowed and Kendra snapped to with the others. "Officer in the bay!" the speaker continued.

  "As you were," a voice replied. She recognized it. Rob's. What the hell?

  She turned to see him and Marta in undress greens. Marta looked as stunning as ever and Rob was wearing lieutenant's pips.

  From habit, she snapped to attention again. "When did that happen, sir?" She asked, half joking.

  "Geez, dear, relax," he laughed. "You don't have to call me 'sir,' my parents were married. I'm only dressed for dinner. Okura retired right on schedule and Bimi left for command school. That left a slot open, I'm ranking pilot, instructor qualified and have combat time, so I got Second Flight." He took a breath and added, "You look great."

  She doubted that, with short hair and a uniform, but it was really good to see him. Marta turned slightly and gestured. "Are you ready, love?"

  "Uh, let me get my rifle," she said. "And I invited Asher to come with us." She indicated him with her left hand. "Asher, Rob and Marta," she introduced awkwardly as she hurried to her bunk, self-consciously avoiding them.

  Asher stood nearly at attention, trying to look relaxed, and greeted them, "Sir, Sergeant."

  They were almost small-talking when she returned with her rifle. Asher was already armed, and they left. Rob told the recruit on guard not to call the bay to attention and they departed without fanfare, although Kendra could still feel numerous eyes staring in their direction, mostly at Marta.

  They climbed into a rented aircar and strapped down. Marta promptly grabbed her and planted an eager kiss on her. She kissed back until oxygen deprivation cut in. Then it was Rob's turn.

  While she recovered from the attention, Rob lifted and turned the car simultaneously. "Now that you've had some air time, I can fly like a real pilot," he joked as he rammed the throttle home. There were gasps and a giggle from Marta as gees shoved them into the seat. "Rob's a Hatchet pilot," she advised Asher over her shoulder.

  Marta was next to him and added, "Yeah. And he got the CfC on Mtali. If his flying bothers you, just do what he does," she said as setup.

  "What's that?" Asher asked, unsure and staring wide-eyed out the window.

  "I close my eyes!" Rob shouted, laughing.

  He slowed down and dropped into the local traffic pattern and in a few segs landed and roaded. "This the place you meant?" he asked Kendra.

  "Yes. Asher brought me here two weeks ago." Was that all it was? It seemed years.

  They walked across the road and into the hewn-stone building. There was a line waiting for service, but the Freehold operated differently from Earth. As soon as the staff saw the combat medals on Rob and Marta, they were ushered in and not a word of protest was spoken behind them. The manager personally delivered a bottle of wine, announcing it was with his compliments for anyone with a Citation for Courage. "Who do I have to kill for champagne?" Rob joked, then thanked him graciously.

  The food was really good and Marta split her attention three ways with surprising ease. Then Kendra realized it shouldn't be surprising. Rob was polite and friendly with Asher and gave Marta occasional touches and conversation, but most of his attention was on Kendra. She reciprocated. She wondered how the evening was going to be, but Marta clearly had it under control and Kendra trusted her to handle it. She dug into her lemon-pepper roasted chicken and was dizzy-headed on wine in short order. It didn't take much.

  "The short hair suits you," Marta said. She reached up and brushed the thick blond strands, now almost five centimeters long.

  "Uh, sure," Kendra replied sarcastically. "You might have warned me about that."

  "Why? Don't they do that in the UN?" Marta looked as surprised as Kendra had been when she got shorn.

  Another gulf. She let the topic drop and got back into the conversation. "I think the second jump was scarier than the first," she said.

  Asher nodded. "I wasn't going to admit it, but yes," he said.

  "Was for me, too," Rob agreed. "The first one is an unknown. You'll learn to enjoy them."

  "I do already," she purr
ed and stroked his thigh. He laughed.

  "Wait until you try free fall," Marta said. "The most fun you can have with your clothes on," she snickered.

  After eating and drinking and chatting for a while, they stood and wandered out. Rob left a generous tip and thanked the manager. The service had been unobtrusively excellent.

  Rob took her hand against slight resistance and commented, "This whole decorum thing in uniform takes some getting used to. You need to relax a little." She tried to do so and moved closer. On the other side, Marta undecorously mashed up against her and held out her other arm for Asher, who was looking a bit out of place. He brightened and took it.

  The hotel Marta had booked was pricier than the one Asher had sprung for. She would have to let him know that Marta was loaded with cash and liked spending so he wouldn't feel too put upon.

  The elevator was on the small side and they shifted to fit. It wound up with Rob and Kendra standing together, Marta and Asher behind them. They walked down the hall that way and were still two couples when they entered the room.

  Kendra pulled Rob against her inside the door and he grinned as he met her lips. He kissed along her chin and down her throat, making her arch in response. His hands on her hips and his weight against her were long-missed thrills.

  Then Marta elbowed her way in. "Don't be greedy!" She smiled at Rob. Then she attacked with a ferocity Kendra had never felt before. Finally breaking, Kendra slumped against the wall, lust and alcohol making her giddy.

  "I think you and Rob should burn off your mindless lust and we can play later. Meanwhile, Ash here can keep me entertained," Marta said. Asher had been feeling left out and looked it. He flushed red as Marta eyed him, clearly enjoying the idea.

  After long, sweaty segs in a variety of positions, they broke apart. Rob sprawled back, gasping, and Kendra leaned to stretch out kinks. Mar ran questing fingers up her neck and began to massage the knots. She much preferred Rob's attention, but she had missed Marta just as much. She drew Mar into an embrace and let her hands and mouth drift across the flawless olive skin.

  If it wasn't for her current heavy exercise program, she figured she'd have collapsed from exhaustion by now. Marta had been as energetic and demanding as always. She was about to beg for a break, but when she sat, catching her breath for a second, she saw the look in Ash's eyes. She pulled him close and spread atop him, feeling him inside her, aroused again and ready. He kissed her eagerly and she delighted in it.

  She opened her eyes to find Mar kissing her and the men asleep. "Feeling okay?" Mar asked.

  "Sure. Did I black out?" she asked.

  "Not as such. You mumbled a few words about being ruined for regular sex, then fell asleep."

  "Oh," she replied wittily.

  "Speaking of which," Marta added as she began caressing her again. Kendra wondered if she was going to be allowed to sleep any more.

  They spent the next day on a six-meter sailboat on Mirror Lake. She gratefully stripped naked and sunbathed as soon as the temperature permitted. It had been so long since she'd been outside without clothes that she felt odd about it again. She declined to join Marta in a dip over the side, however. The young woman resurfaced dripping and howling, her nipples crinkled from the cold and her lips taking on a blue cast for a few segs.

  Rob pulled the tiller taut against the breeze, tacking them. He was experienced with sailing vessels too, and Kendra wondered again just how many skills were in his repertoire. She lazed on the deck while Marta teased Ash again. They munched a picnic lunch and headed back in the afternoon as Io began to bake them. There were hundreds of boats out by then, and Rob steered carefully. Kendra nodded at appreciative stares, still not used to them. Marta played to the audience and had a great time.

  Mar was definitely amused by Asher. She was kissing and caressing him as they sat relaxing in the room. "You realize how lucky you are, I hope," Kendra grinned. "What would last night have cost him?" she asked Marta.

  Considering, Marta said, "Sex with some variations, voyeurism, extended oral, about two divs worth . . . two thousand credits would cover it."

  Asher looked suitably impressed. "Wow," he said. "Kendra said you were high priced, but wow."

  "You don't think I'm worth it?" Marta asked with a cruel grin.

  "Uh, yes!" he agreed quickly. Despite his minimal experience, he knew Marta was incredibly skilled and he'd be pondering the differences between her and Kendra, while trying hard not to rate them against each other. It was amusing, but Kendra was glad they weren't involved more than casually. It could get very confused and ugly if they were.

  Marta dropped them at the barracks the next morning with twenty segs to spare. They changed and were ready for free-fall training, Kendra still a bit stiff from athletic sex.

  After the daily exercise and shooting, they listened to the lecture again and ran through rehearsals one-on-one with the staff. Satisfied, they were herded back aboard the vertols, Kendra feeling well rested, and confident. There was just a twinge of nervousness inside and she looked around at the others. Some wore grins like Ash's and she wondered how many others had been trysting. She doubted any had had as athletic a time as she'd had.

  They were quickly at altitude and Kendra was motioned to be first. Her stomach flopped, but she stepped forward. There was an interminable wait, then the ramp dropped, then there was more waiting as the landscape glided by. They were doing barely 150 kilometers, but it seemed faster. The jumpmaster walked casually out to the edge of the ramp and looked down while Kendra swallowed. He motioned her forward.

  She stepped gingerly to the edge and stood there, buffeted by the slipstream as the instructor pointed down. "There's your target," he shouted over the roar. She could hear it live and in her headset in odd stereo.

  She glanced down, nodding, not really seeing.

  "No, lean over. Down there!" he repeated. She leaned, gripping the stanchion, and saw what might be a painted target. "Ready," he told her. She put her toes against the edge, waiting in the disconnected state she'd learned to associate with sensory or mental overload.

  She heard a bellowed, "Go!"

  Swallowing again, she dove off the edge and dropped, spread to catch the roaring wind. The air and gravity ripped at her, pulled her, tumbled her from headfirst to belly-down as she took a stiff "Arch!" while shouting instructions to remind and time herself. "Look!" she yelled and sighted her release handle near her right side. At "Reach!" she pulled her arms in toward her torso as she'd been taught and yanked the release while bellowing "Pull!"

  It was supposed to be a five-second count. It had taken her barely one. But the gear worked as advertised and the canopy rippled and billowed over her. She checked it and could see other students deploying overhead. Adrenaline coursed through her and she whooped in delight. This was a rush.

  The next trip was a ten-second delay from a faster craft, face-first in a rush toward the ground, rolling in the gale to a stable position. They did twenty seconds. They could go no further than thirty without oxygen and stopped there. Kendra would vividly remember that jump forever.

  She leapt headfirst out the back, feet against her buttocks, arms extended to let the buffeting winds catch her. She flattened out in the sudden silence and heard the steadily increasing roar of the air past her ears. Occasional side-gusts caught her and there came a whuffing sound as she dropped through a wisp of cloud. Full gravity returned as she reached terminal velocity.

  The world curved away from her in a vast panorama and she leaned sideways to turn for a full view. It was exhilarating and she grinned beneath her goggles. Remembering to check her altimeter, she was surprised to find it was only 185 meters and about five seconds into her flight. She had plenty of time. She turned back to the view.

  She kept a steady eye on her altimeter. After a long time that was meditative and restful, she popped the canopy at five hundred meters as ordered. She found a rising thermal and managed extra hang time, in violation of regs. It should cost to have th
is much fun, she thought. She landed and reported in for dinner. They resumed afterward, doing a static jump and a free fall in darkness with night-vision gear.

  The rest of the instruction block passed at a blur. They began jumping with gear and did more night jumps, into water, into thick woods with armor to prevent injury, then into mock urban settings. They practiced malfunctions, including releasing a "damaged" main and deploying the reserve. They used oxygen to go as high as seven thousand meters and practiced steering for their targets.

  They were more than halfway through already. After Recruit Training, as busy as it had been, the breakneck pace here was staggering.

  Up before Io again. Exercise, shooting range, classroom. They devoured the lecture and were driven to another training area. They jogged up stairs to the top of a one-hundred-meter training tower and donned harnesses.

  Kendra snapped the rope through the links as taught and the instructor tugged it to inspect. "Okay," she said. "You can't fall as long as you grip the rope against your hip," she reiterated the lecture. "Try to hang on in front, you'll slip. Now, back to the edge." Kendra nodded, shuffled to the edge of the tower and leaned back. She felt fine so far.

  She slipped one foot over, then the other, and gingerly edged down, feet against the building, slipping the rope through her fingers and snugging it against her hip. "Faster," she was ordered. "We don't have all day."

  She quickened her pace, looking at the wall and not down and was quickly done. She was surprised at how easy it had been. She'd expected to be scared of the height. Free-fall training had put a stop to that.

  She went up twice more for practice and prepared for the real training after lunch.

  That was a different experience. She faced forward, standing at the edge. It looked like a long way down now. "Over you go," she was reminded.