Martial Law 1: Patriotic Treason

by Christopher Nuttall

  Ellen laughed gaily. “You definitely have,” she said. “You did well on your deployment to the ground and Captain Jones spoke highly of you during your deployment to his vessel. He actually wanted to offer you a post on his ship, but we decided that your services were still required here.”

  That rankled, more than a little. The longer I stayed on the monitor, the greater the chance that I would have to launch or call in another fire mission, directed against the ground. God alone knew how many innocents had been killed on Heinlein, but I would have bet good money that it was well over a million. I hadn’t known that Captain Jones had wanted me – he was short of officers after the insurgent attack – and I would have transferred at once, if he had offered me the chance. Life on a cruiser would have been far more tolerable than life on a monitor. The people I would have killed, at least, would have been trying to kill me.

  “But in any case all good things must come to an end,” she said, moving back to the more serious persona. “You are requesting permission to transfer to another starship? Don’t you like it on the Devastator?”

  It was an innocent question that had a nasty sting in the tail. I didn’t have the Senior Chief briefing me this time, warning me of what I would face. Saying the wrong thing would wreck my career, but I honestly wasn't sure what I should say. If I confessed to disliking the starship’s purpose, it would get me marked down as a possible subversive, while if I claimed to love it…well, she’d probably know that I was lying.

  “I want to get further experience of starship operations,” I explained, finally. It was even true. “The Devastator remains in one system and operates there. I want to serve on a starship that carries out patrols and maybe even explores new star systems.”

  “Boldly going where no one has gone before,” Ellen agreed. It was the motto of the UN’s Survey Corps, which examined new planets for human settlement. One of the charges the UN had levelled against Heinlein’s Founding Fathers was that they hadn’t waited for the Survey Corps to clear the planet before settling. The Heinlein books had suggested that the Survey Corps would have delayed classifying the planet until they were bribed into agreement, or tried to place unacceptable conditions on the settlements. I had once thought about joining them, but I hadn’t made it through that section of the Academy. I hadn’t understood why under much later. “I admit that you have the qualifications – now – to try for a position on a survey ship, but you must realise that your experience mandates against it.”

  I nodded. “Yes,” I said, slowly. “I was hoping to serve on a anti-piracy patrol vessel or another starship that would be operating along the edge of explored space. I can qualify for that.”

  “Indeed you can,” Ellen agreed. She changed tack suddenly. “What did you think of the invasion of Heinlein?”

  I shrugged, as artlessly as I could. “I think that they needed to be brought into the UN before their individualistic tendencies led to civil war,” I said. I knew the answer to that one, of course; Ellen lectured on it every fortnight. “Our presence in the system prevents them from turning their guns on one another.”

  “Of course,” Ellen agreed. I reflected that they’d turned their guns on the infantry instead, but that proved nothing. It was possible that the UN was right, but if half of the Heinlein guidebooks were to be believed, Heinlein had a far lower level of violent crime than Earth. I suppose that the possibility of being shot dead while committing a crime did add a certain deterrent value. “Once we start settling proper citizens from Earth on the planet, we can drain their violence natures from them and reshape their world.”

  “Of course,” I agreed, slowly. I doubted that it would be anything like as easy as she suggested. Heinlein’s system was very embedded into the planet and they were still resisting furiously. I’d heard rumours that the UN had even considered the use of biological or chemical weapons – it was a war crime to even suggest the use of such weapons – in hopes of bring the war to an end before it was too late. The settlers who were being prepared to land on the planet had been put off time and time again. Their transports were needed to supply more soldiers to the planet’s garrisons. “I’m sure that it will work perfectly.”

  “But enough of that,” Ellen said, finally. “I have checked, as you know, with the Captain and Anna. The Captain was quite happy to endorse your transfer request, if you chose to make it, but Anna did point out that you would no longer be Junior Lieutenant after this cruise. Two Lieutenants are leaving the ship and their replacements would probably be junior to you. Do you want to risk returning – remaining – to a junior role?”

  It actually didn’t matter. My two years as a Lieutenant (Command Line) would remain on my service record until I was either promoted or moved into another department, which would make the end of my career. It was possible that we would get two new green lieutenants, or that both of them would be senior to me. It wasn't as important as it was for the Ensigns, but it made little difference.

  “I actually enjoyed my work as a Junior Lieutenant,” I confessed. Ellen hid a smile, not entirely successfully. No one enjoyed being the junior man on the totem pole, even if I did have the Ensigns and enlisted personnel below me. My position meant that I was the first in line for any new tasks the Captain felt like setting. It was why I had been sent down to Heinlein first, or entrusted with the reporters, in the first place. “I would not mind having to do it again.”

  “Doubtless,” Ellen murmured. “Your…other qualifications” – she meant my political reliability – “are in order. If you find a suitable berth, you may apply for it. Inform the Captain one day before we reach Orbit Five so that he can find a replacement for you. If you find nothing by then, either stay here or ship yourself to Luna Base and the personnel pool.”

  I nodded, hiding my exultation as best as I could. The Devastator was supposed to carry nine Lieutenants at all times. The problems with finding qualified and capable personnel meant that she had only carried seven, including me. The Captain would have to put out a request for an additional Lieutenant to replace me, which might mean that he would have to accept the services of someone who had been beached for good reason. I hoped that he found someone more to his taste. If my political reliability was still unquestioned, that meant that he hadn’t reported my attempt to file a protest.

  “You’re a good man,” Ellen said, standing up and dismissing me. “I wish you all the best.”

  And what about Ensign Gomez? I thought, but I couldn’t say that to her face. Instead, I shook her hand, saluted her and returned to my quarters.

  A day later, we emerged from the wormhole in Earth’s solar system. Unlike my last return to the system, there was no point in cruising around the outer edge of the system, trying to see what might be lurking there in the darkness. The Devastator emerged only two days from Earth at cruising speed and, while we could have come in much closer, the Captain ordered a full check of the entire ship. Two years of hard service had placed a great deal of wear and tear on the systems.

  In-between working on the logistics – for the last time, I hoped – I checked the fleet listings from Earth. There were only seven starships in the system at the time, not counting the merchant freighters or the heavy transports, or even the colonist-carriers. One of them sailed past us two hours after we emerged and we exchanged salutes, leaving me to wonder if it actually did any good. The new colony wouldn’t be productive for years to come, at least, even if the UN didn’t screw it up right from the start. I’d read several histories of smaller colonies that made Terra Nova look like a perfect success.

  “You should look at this one,” Kitty said, that evening. “The Walter Gallium, a new cruiser, only launched this year. The Captain needs several berths filled before he departs.”

  “Maybe,” I agreed, slowly. The freighters and transports always needed officers – they were the least-liked berths in the UNPF – and I could have gotten one of those easily, but that would have killed my career if I’d taken it willingly. Ironi
cally, I’d probably be a freighter Captain within a year, but it would be boring. They went from world to world on a strict schedule and they were completely unarmed. Pirates used them as targets when they located them in deep space. The Heinlein Fleet had hurt us more by hitting the transports than the real starships. “Let’s see…”

  The process wasn't quite like a job interview on Earth, where I could send in an application for hundreds of different jobs, simultaneously. In the UNPF, I had to apply for one berth and see what happened before I applied for the next one. I couldn’t have afford to have a Captain angry at me because he’d approved my application, only to discover that I had applied to another Captain as well. I applied for the Walter Gallium, only to discover, an hour later, that the Captain had already filled the berth. It grew to be a depressingly familiar experience over the next few hours. The competition for interstellar berths was fierce. I was starting to think that applying for several posts at once was a low-risk strategy after all.

  “Here,” Kitty said, finally. “Look at this one?”

  My eyes went wide. Captain Harriman was looking for a new Lieutenant? Why would anyone ever want to leave his ship? I asked Kitty and she laughed.

  “Ambition, of course,” she said, dryly. I rolled my eyes, but really – wasn't I being ambitious as well? “Anyone who’s still a Lieutenant after five years probably doesn’t have a hope of making Captain, even if there were more Captain slots open for the aspiring Lieutenant. Why do you think I want to advance?”

  I grinned. Kitty had only a year on me. She might have a chance of becoming a Captain herself in a year, if she had a term as First Lieutenant to prove that she could handle a starship. And, of course, if she could convince the UNPF Promotion Board that she was reliable enough to command a starship. Roger would probably make Captain as soon as possible, just because of his family. I hadn’t realised, until Heinlein, just how much of a stake he had in the UN. His family were among the top ten of the system.

  “Particularly if Anna doesn’t want to leave,” I agreed. Anna would probably wind up inheriting Devastator if something happened to the Captain. It was a reasonable way to run for command, unless the Promotion Board decided to assign another commander to the monitor. A newly-minted Captain would outrank her, regardless of her length of service. “I’m going to apply for this post, if you don’t mind…”

  “I don’t want a cruiser,” Kitty said, firmly. “I’m applying for the battleship openings.”

  The next few hours went by slowly. We both went on duty and joined the crewmen and junior officers checking each nook and cranny. I went through the supply workroom where Frank had raped Ensign Gomez and made sure that it was unmarked, without even a trace of what had happened there. Perhaps I was being silly, but somehow the pain and shock had faded away, leaving only a dull memory. The poor girl had been scarred for life…and no one cared. Even the Captain had only been able to give Frank Wong a black eye. The insurgents had done more for her than any of us. I made endless lists of components that needed replaced for my successor, although part of my mind was already resigned to remaining on Devastator for another cruise. I wasn't sure, but it was possible that even a transport would be preferable. I didn’t want to kill more innocents.

  “I got it,” Kitty said, calling my terminal directly. I’d never heard her so happy in my life. “Captain Hafiz sends his compliments and welcomes me onboard Trygve Lie, in Earth Orbit. I’ll be Second Lieutenant!”

  “Congratulations,” I said, as I walked back to the cabin. I was happy for her, and yet…part of my mind was devastated at losing her to another ship. We could exchange letters via the Brotherhood communications network, but it wouldn’t be quite the same. I’d known that one day we would part – it was inevitable, given our careers – but it still hurt. “One step down from First Lieutenant, right?”

  “Oh, I’m sure I can knife my opponent in the back,” Kitty agreed, with a laugh. I had to agree with her. The Second Lieutenant had ample opportunity to embarrass his or her nominal superior. It was quite likely that their Captain wouldn’t tolerate open warfare, but subtle manoeuvring was fairly common. “Have you received anything yet?”

  I checked my terminal, but shook my head. “Nothing,” I said. It was traditional to get back to the applicant as soon as possible, but it was possible that Captain Harriman was busy, or couldn’t be bothered contacting me. My imagination could invent all kinds of possible scenarios. “When does he want you onboard?”

  “Next week,” Kitty said, slowly, reading through the data packet. The battleship was newly commissioned, it seemed, having taken five years to build. I wasn't blind to the implications. The UN was having problems maintaining its construction program. I wondered, suddenly, how many workers had been conscripted from planets like Heinlein. “I’ll have four days at Luna City, unless I choose to report to barracks, etcetera, etcetera.”

  She looked nervous, suddenly. “Will you join me there, if you can get leave?”

  “The locals will hate me,” I predicted. Luna City was notorious for its facilities for spacemen. It included hundreds of bars, dozens of brothels and numberless gambling dens. A crewman might take his service bonus in one day and emerge with enough money to retire, but it was far more likely that he would end up completely broke by the end of the day. It was also a known gangland habitat, operated by one of the most notorious criminal gangs in space. The Outfit kept it all running smoothly, but woe betide the health inspector who took a close look at the eateries there. “You turning up with competition on your arm.”

  “Twit,” Kitty said. She elbowed me hard enough to hurt. “Get that uniform off, mister.”

  She pulled me down on top of her and into her. I pushed deep inside her, feeling closer to her than ever before, and started to move. I was moving faster and faster when my terminal bleeped, announcing an incoming message.

  “If you stop now,” Kitty panted, “I’ll cut off your fucking balls.”

  I couldn’t have stopped if she’d told me to stop. I kept moving, feeling the orgasm building up inside of me, until it burst out and we came together. She shuddered endlessly under me, gasping out loud, until we finally subsidised.

  “You’re magnificent,” I breathed. It was true. Naked and dishevelled, her long red hair hanging down over her breasts, she was beautiful beyond words. I wanted her so much it hurt. “I wish…let’s get married, now.”

  “You’re being silly,” she said, after kissing me. I felt rejected, even though I knew better. Lieutenants couldn’t get married until they were assigned to a permanent station. It was almost worth doing just for her. “We can’t get married and you know it.”

  I pulled myself off her and sat up, reaching for my terminal and opening the message. I had to read it twice to confirm that I had read it properly. It offered me the post of Lieutenant on the old Jacques Delors, under Captain Harriman. I yelled aloud in delight and threw myself at her. It was nearly another hour before she picked up the terminal and thumbed through it herself. I didn’t begrudge her the chance to look at it. If nothing else, we could compare postings.

  “John,” she said, carefully, “have you read this bit here?”

  I checked. It was the list of service periods for the four other Lieutenants. I blinked again. “That can’t be right,” I said, puzzled. None of them had a service period over a year. “What happened to Lieutenant Hatchet?”

  “I don’t know,” Kitty said, “but reading this…you’re First Lieutenant. You will be the second-in-command of the entire ship.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Officially, the UNPF bans personnel associations of any kind, apart from those funded and operated by political officers. Unofficially, there are hundreds of little groups within the UNPF, mostly involving classmates at the Academy or officers who have shared a term of service together, or a common interest. The UNPF Chess Club has over two thousand members and organises tournaments as often as it can. The vast majority of such personnel associations
are harmless and the UN has learned to turn a blind eye. Even so, some of them have operated against the UNPF and UN interests.

  -Thomas Anderson. An Unbiased Look at the UNPF. Baen Historical Press, 2500.

  It had been nearly three years since I had set foot in Luna City, but little had changed. The massive dome covering the Sea of Tranquillity still allowed the unblinking stars to glare down on a scene of debauchery that would have shocked the early Romans. I had fond memories of my visits to Luna City while I’d been at the Academy and, looking around, I could see other Cadets staring around, wondering if they dared seek entrance to some of the strip bars or brothels the Outfit ran. Others walked hand in hand with girls they’d picked up, enjoying their company before taking them back to their hotel rooms to complete the bargain, or even not waiting that long. I saw, in a dark corner, a Cadet making out with a woman who looked old enough to be his mother. He wasn't the only one either. Luna City had very little in the way of laws.