Not With A Whimper: Preservers

by D. A. Boulter

  And that would be a civilian dismissal, Temple thought.

  “Thank you very much, sir. I’ll make sure that we put as little strain on your station as possible.”

  He gave her a half wave without looking up again – almost what she now expected from General Wingrove – and turned his attention back to other matters.

  Well, that had been relatively painless, she thought as she walked down to the docks to collect her new “liaison staff”.

  What she saw when she arrived there gave her pause. These men and women looked hard, not the type you’d want associating with civilians whose good will you wished to keep.

  “Captain Harrison reporting, sir.” His salute came up crisp and exact.

  “Major Temple,” she replied, answering his salute. “I got you one week.”

  He looked at her, hard-eyed. “Not enough. We need three.”

  And that told her more than she’d gotten from General Wingrove. Why would they need to remain on station for three weeks? What plans went into effect at the end of the month?

  “Walk with me,” she said, then turned her attention to the rest. “Listen up! I’ve acquired quarters for you. We’ll now go to them. I don’t want you marching; marching scares civilians. So, break step, and basically just slouch along as if on leave. Smile, chat among yourselves, whatever.” She gave a small grin. “In other words, try to act as unsoldierly as you can.”

  The captain didn’t like this. He opened his mouth to object, but she stopped him short, relying on her rank to do the job.

  “I got you one week, Harrison. It came grudgingly.” She started walking, forcing him to move with her. The rest tailed on behind doing their best to not march in step. He looked put out, she saw with her peripheral vision as he came up to her side.

  “Let me talk with this person,” he said, voice sounding much more threatening than she could permit.

  “Denied, Captain.” Temple used a clipped tone that brooked no insubordination. “Let’s get this straight, right now. General Wingrove ordered me to cooperate with you, but have no doubt that until the time to do whatever it is you’ve come into space to do comes up, you are under my command. Now, listen closely.”

  She waited until the captain had put on his listening face before she continued.

  “You may think that you and your men are hot stuff, but it will take more than ten of you to control the thousand or more people the Families can set against you in short order. So, we rely on becoming invisible, a bit of a burden to them, but nothing untoward. We do nothing that gets us noticed.”

  They walked through the airlock into the station proper, on its concourse level.

  She continued, “We keep out of everyone’s way. They have exercise rooms and zero-g training rooms that we can utilize if no stationers book them, so you’ll be able to keep your men in shape – or at least occupied if they need to release energy. Otherwise, have them keep to quarters as much as possible.”

  “I don’t understand why.”

  “Because, if I’m to get another two weeks out of them, it will come about because they don’t think you are either a nuisance or a burden. If they barely even notice you, Bill Tannon, the Station Chief, will grumble, but grant another week – and then another. If, for example, one of your men assaults one of the stationers, he’ll have you all shipped out immediately. They don’t particularly like us here, though I’m not exactly sure why. However, they don’t, and will use any excuse to rid themselves of both you and me.

  “That, Captain, will end your mission before you can even start it and put paid to mine, which I have not yet completed. I will not have that. Clear?”

  “Clear, sir. I’ll talk to my people; we’ll be as meek as mice.”

  “Good.” She wondered if Harrison could keep discipline that long in this situation – whatever this situation turned out to entail. “Because if I get the slightest hint that you may endanger my mission, I’ll have you out of here on the next shuttle – or without it, depending on how I’m feeling at the time.”

  She’d gotten a start from him at that, but he replied a little more respectfully.

  “You’ll have no problems, Major.”

  She stopped, causing everyone else to stop as well. “This is FTL-1’s Transient Quarters, people. Everyone gets their own room. Line up, and we’ll get you your passkeys. When you get in your rooms, ensure that you read the Station Rules. There’s a conference room at the end of the hall, which Captain Harrison or I can book. Other than that, have a nice stay here. Hopefully, the problem at Topside Two will clear up soon.” That last for the benefit of anyone listening.

  She turned back to Harrison as the soldiers lined up.

  “All yours, Captain. I already booked the room for you for the next two hours – if you need that much.”

  Harrison raised his voice. “In half an hour, I’ll expect you all in the conference room to go over my rules.”

  The soldiers lined up to receive their keys and directions.

  “Well, I’ll leave you to it, Captain. Feel free to come to my offices at any time.” She held up her hand. “No saluting on station. Tell your people that, too.”

  He half-laughed. “I know; it frightens civilians.”

  * * *

  A somewhat frightened Major Sharon Temple walked into her office. “Sergeant Freeman, I don’t wish to be disturbed for the next hour – unless something urgent comes up.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  She closed the door, sat down at her desk and stared off into a middle distance that didn’t exist. She turned out all the lights except a dim one; she needed to concentrate. Something, far beyond what her superiors had suggested, roared on rocket engines straight towards her. Unless she figured it out, it would catch her unawares. She didn’t like events to catch her unawares.

  That her “replacement crew” didn’t in any way, shape, or form fit the job description disturbed her. The timing bothered her, as well. Why keep this elite force on station for three weeks? If they had a job to do at the end of the month, why not bring them up shortly before that? They certainly weren’t here as a security team. She’d bet her life on it.

  Something tickled the back of her mind, and it frustrated her that it would not come forward. Trying to force it seemed to send it further into the recesses.

  She needed to take her waking mind off of it; she needed exercise. A small smile came to her lips. Owen would likely join her later today, after his classes. He had become more at ease with her; perhaps tonight she might get him to open up. And that might furnish her with some missing puzzle pieces.

  Yes, tonight. After all, her special order had come up on the shuttle that carried Captain Harrison and his troop.

  * * *

  Tuesday 10 August

  Sweating and panting, Sharon and Owen collapsed to the mat, rolled over onto their backs, and stared up at the ceiling.

  “Good workout, Owen. You’re making me work, challenging me.” He made her work, yes, challenged her, no. But he didn’t have to know that last.

  He gasped out a laugh. “You don’t have to lie to me. You could take me with one hand tied behind you.”

  So, he did know.

  “Maybe,” she admitted, “but it wouldn’t be as much fun.”

  She rolled onto her side, took his face between both of her hands, and gave him a little kiss on the lips, which he returned in full measure.

  “Let’s pack it up for the day.”

  Owen looked over to the chrono. “Already?” His disappointment in the foreshortened session showed in both face and voice.

  “Already,” she confirmed. “And then Ms Sharon Temple will request of Mr Owen Yrden the pleasure of his company at dinner.”

  His great smile warmed her. “And Mr Owen Yrden will very, very happily reply in the affirmative.” He looked her in the eyes, his own shining. “Darcy’s?”

  “No, perhaps not this time.”

  “Family cafeteria?” A little disappointment?
>
  “I figured Chez Sharon,” she said, pronouncing her name the French way.

  Owen frowned. “I don’t think I know that one.” He studied the upper reaches of the wall as if it might provide an answer.

  She laughed. “My place.”

  His eyes snapped to her face. “Your place? Really?”

  “My place. Really. I just received some delicacies on today’s shuttle, and I would love to share them with you. Things taste better in good company, and you’re the best company I could possibly find on this station.”

  Sharon took hold of his arm and led him towards the showers.

  * * *

  “That’s a great wine!” Owen took another sip. “But it must have cost a fortune to have it brought up here in the bottle. That and everything else.”

  And it would have, had she had to pay for any of it. But she enjoyed an expense account, and General Wingrove had heartily approved her order when she explained its purpose.

  Sharon shrugged. “Nothing else to spend my wages on. Come on, let’s sit down.”

  She led him from the table, glass and bottle in hand, to the couch, where they sat down together. He put his left arm around her shoulders, and she snugged into him. This wouldn’t take much effort at all on her part.

  “So, tell me, my friend, how are your classes going?”

  He let his left hand play with her hair. “Pretty good. I’m almost top of the class. The course ends next Saturday, and then I’ll have a few days off to do whatever I want.”

  As he turned her face so he could kiss her, she had no doubts as to what he wanted to do with those few days. She’d accommodate him as best she could – especially if he opened up a little more.

  “And your father? He still okay with us?”

  “With what he knows, I suppose so.” He kissed her again, and she felt something jump in her stomach, a reaction she hadn’t expected at all. “I don’t report to him all the details of my life.”

  She let out a small laugh. “Still hates the uniform?”

  “A little.”

  “How long has he hated us?” Question pitched so it would sound as if she felt unfairly treated.

  “I don’t think…” He paused in his defence of his father. “Actually,” he said, tilting his head over to the right, “I never noticed it before he came to work on this station, after he came back up from Granddad’s funeral.”

  He shrugged, then laughed. “Of course, we all – the Families that is – think that what we pay for the patrols cuts too deeply into profits.”

  She laughed along with him, but his answer started a turmoil inside her, both in stomach and mind.

  “I did some studying on the Families before I came up here. I thought your father captained Venture; I didn’t expect to find him here.”

  “He’s still the captain.”

  So, not demoted. Then why had he taken up residence on FTL-1? She didn’t ask that; it didn’t really matter. She had one further question for Owen, but that would have to wait for a more opportune moment.

  “I think it’s time for bed,” she said, disengaging herself, and beginning to rise.

  “Oh, sorry.” He removed his arm. “I didn’t think it was that late. Thank you for inviting me. Everything was wonderful.”

  She took his hand, and lightly pulled him to his feet to join her. “You don’t have to leave.”

  It took Owen a moment, then his eyes widened. He licked his lips, opened his mouth and breathed out.

  “Um, I think I should tell you—”

  “First time?” Hardly even a guess, just asking for confirmation.

  “Yes.” His eyes darted back and forth. “Is it a problem?”

  “No,” she said softly. “Not a problem at all, though I’m a little surprised. You’re nineteen, right?”

  “Right. It’s just...”

  She held up her hand. “It is what it is; no explanations necessary. So, we’ll just take it slowly. You can ask whatever you want. You’ll tell me what you like; I’ll tell you what I like, and we’ll see how it goes from there. Okay?”

  He licked at his lips again, then looked up into her eyes. “May I undress you?”

  She smiled widely. “You certainly may. Bedroom’s this way.”

  * * *

  Owen had the energy and stamina of a young man in his prime. But now he lay back in her bed in a drowse, with her head on his shoulder. Her finger drew patterns on the skin of his chest.

  “Owen?”

  “Umm?”

  “What happened at Earth - AN 2?”

  “I’m not supposed to talk–”

  He came fully awake, body tensing. She ran her hand lightly over his body, soothing him, but silently exulting in confirmation of her suspicions.

  “I know. None of you are supposed to talk about it. But I need you to tell me.” She spoke as if from knowledge gained elsewhere, then she paused for a moment. “I promise that, as far as possible, I will not let Major Temple know.”

  He lay still as she stroked him, slowly relaxing.

  “I need you to tell me, Owen. What happened at Earth - African Nations Waypoint-2? It’s important.”

  Sharon willed him to speak. She felt him swallow, tension coming back into his body. Would it work? “Please?”

  “We found survivors.”

  It took a couple of seconds for her to find her voice. That answered so much. “Survivors?”

  “From Amalgamated 684. Two of them. No one is supposed to know.”

  “Passengers?”

  “A pilot and a flight attendant. They were working on a lifeboat when the pirates hit.”

  And every piece of the puzzle fell into place.

  “Thank you, Owen, for trusting me. Your people made a good decision. Don’t tell anyone else. And don’t tell anyone you told me.”

  “I screwed up, didn’t I?”

  She gave him a hug, pressing herself against his chest. Then she backed off, took one of his hands and placed it on her breast. “No, Owen, you didn’t. You most certainly didn’t. Trust me on this, too, please.”

  His eyes, dark in the dim light of the room, stared into hers for a long time. Then the breath left him in a long sigh. “I trust you.”

  “Good. Now let’s take a shower. I’ll wash your back, and you can wash mine.”

  It hadn’t stopped there; the shower revived him, and two wet, slippery bodies in close proximity caused a reaction that delayed their eventual goodnights until after a second necessary shower.

  In the dark warmth of her bed, Sharon Temple stared at the ceiling above her, and wondered what Major Temple would do with the information at her disposal.

  CHAPTER 21

  FTL-1

  Thursday 12 August

  Major Sharon Temple waited for the General to complete the connection. The screen wavered as the security protocols took over, and then straightened.

  “Sir, I wish to report that I’ve completed my preliminary mission.”

  His eyebrows went up.

  “Johannes Yrden remains captain of the Family Ship Venture. The Family has not demoted him, kicked him off the ship, nor in any way does he languish under discipline. His relations with his wife, Jaswinder, may account for him entertaining the academic on FTL-1 rather than on Venture itself. He is not vulnerable to any advances we might make.”

  Let’s see how the General would take that.

  He frowned. “I don’t see how that completes your mission, Major. We wanted you to get close to the Family, find out what’s what.”

  And that answered another question – not that it seemed viable. If Space Force were in negotiation with the Yrden Family Head, expecting success, there would exist no need to try to bribe or co-opt the brother, Johannes.

  She merely smiled at the General.

  “On the contrary. More than one Yrden live aboard this station. I now have the full confidence of Owen Yrden.”

  “Full confidence?”

  She could see the smirk start. She ig
nored it.

  “Full confidence,” she affirmed. “He’ll tell me whatever I wish to know. I have an ear on whatever they do – insofar as word makes its way to young Owen.”

  Wingrove smiled and, probably – if the viewscreen would show it – rubbed his hands together.

  “Excellent.”

  “The Yrdens – and other Families – resent paying us for the patrols, sir. They feel that they pay more than their share, and that it cuts too deeply into profits. That’s almost verbatim from young Owen. If you have any other questions in particular, I’ll get the answers for you.” She paused. “As long as they come soon.”

  That startled the old beast.

  “Why?”

  “As soon as I’ve finished the study on FTL-1’s security situation, which should not take more than another few days, I’d like to put in for leave. I have six weeks coming to me, and would like to take three of them.”

  He sat back in his chair as if she’d sandbagged him, but recovered quickly.

  “I’ll have to disappoint you, Major. You’ll have to put that off for a month. I’ll have another assignment for you in a couple of weeks.”

  “Not a problem, sir,” she said, giving in easily. She hadn’t actually wanted leave, but his quick rejection meant only one thing: Space Force intended to take over FTL-1 by force. And she’d have the duty of ensuring everything went smoothly.

  “Good.” He’d fully recovered now. “Now, what have the Yrdens hidden about the pirating incident? I assume you asked your young man about that.”

  Sharon nodded. “I did.”

  “And the answer?”

  She looked at the cruel eyes. “Exactly as stated, sir. Owen crewed on Venture. They dropped into Earth - AN 2, pinged the buoy as usual, received the uploaded message, and then got out again as quickly as they could in case the pirates remained in-system.”

  All true, as far as it went. She only hoped that Wingrove wouldn’t ask her to expand on it. She could see him relax minutely, and didn’t blame him.