Sonata in Orionis (Earth Song Book 2)

by Mark Wandrey

  Mandi wasn't alone. In fact, you couldn't get farther from being alone by doing what she was doing. First Among the Chosen Jacob was there with her. They were inclined on a work bench, arms wrapped around each other, lips together and parted. Mandi was squirming in his arms and he had a hand up under her skirt, fingers working feverishly. Minu could see her hand was also rubbing the bulge in his pants.

  "Oh," she said coldly, "pardon me."

  Jacob tried to disengage quickly but Mandi tried to hold him. The result was they both ended up tumbling to the floor. Jacob sprang to his feet with the reflexes of a cat. "Chosen Alma," he said, slightly out of breath and trying unsuccessfully to smooth his uniform. There was no way to smooth the huge bulge in his crotch. It was the first time she realized how unforgiving the jumpsuits were of male sexuality.

  "Guess I know why you left in such a hurry last night," Minu said to Mandi who was sitting on the floor, legs crossed, and a self satisfied look on her face. "You can fuck whoever you want, Ms. Bishop, but not on my clock. If I ever catch you showing this level of indiscretion again, I will note it in your file and request you to be reassigned. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, ma'am," she said coolly, buttoning her shirt.

  "Pardon the intrusion, sir," she said to Jacob and nodded her head. He began to stammer as Minu turned and left.

  "I warned you," Terry said as she closed the door.

  "Yes, sort of," she admitted. He strutted down the hall toward the range, no doubt to share this juicy story with the rest of the team. By that evening, the entire Chosen would likely know. Her face and neck burned hot and she saw red. How dare he, how dare she? She moved to the side and peeked through the small viewing window. It was only big enough to check the condition of the room, being made of super thick moliplas. It was still enough. Jacob was standing and trying to talk to Mandi, who was doing her best to pick up where they’d left off. Minu decided that Jacob needed some help cooling her down.

  She accessed the computer and verified that all weapons were stowed in their sealed lockers and instruments either locked away or out where they were testing. Satisfied, she entered the incident menu and keyed in a couple overrides. With a final stab of her finger alarms began to sound.

  "Alert, alert, fire in the armory! Deploying countermeasures." Minu smiled and whistled a little tune as she strolled toward the firing range. Half way there Pip, Alijah and Terry raced around the corner ahead of her, panic on their faces. Having been told what happened, Pip was terrified that his friend had set the two lovers on fire, or worse.

  "What happened?" he demanded.

  "They were hot," she explained, "I cooled them off!"

  The door to the armory popped open and issued forth a small tidal wave of foam and water. Two drenched and foundering bodies rolled out, gasping for air and sputtering white fire suppressing foam. Usually the computer would examine the incident and decide if a simple water spray was enough, or foam was required. Minu figured this situation called for both.

  Pip, Alijah and Terry were laughing so hard they could barely stand. Minu was afraid Pip would hurt himself as he knelt on the floor laughing and pounding the deck. Mandi was crying and trying to wipe foam from her hair while Jacob shot daggers at Minu. "Sorry, sir," she offered, "must have been a malfunction. If you want, I can download the visual monitors..."

  "That won't be necessary," he said quickly, "I'm sure you will take care of this?"

  "Not a problem, sir." He turned and walked off smartly, nearly falling several times as his foam soaked boots slipped on the ceramic concrete floor. Mandi stomped her foot in rage and ran after him. She didn't almost fall, she went sprawling face first a few meters down the hall. The fall tore her already ruined dress, exposing her left breast. She got up and left in such a huff she didn't bother covering herself. Naturally, all the boys had grins on their faces.

  "Don't mess with the boss," Pip said to the other two.

  "Not in a million years," Terry agreed.

  "Do I look that stupid?" Alijah agreed.

  "Back to work then," Minu told them. She went to the armory and told the computer that the 'fire' was out. After programming the bots to clean up the mess and recharge the fire prevention systems, she joined her team at the range. She smiled and whistled a little tune as she walked, suppressing an urge to skip like a little girl.

  * * *

  Julast 3rd, 517 AE

  HERT, Chosen Headquarters, Steven’s Pass

  The weeks slipped by uneventfully. Minu received an email and was stunned to find out she'd been Chosen for two years. It didn't seem like that long. Well, back to work. The progress on adapting the beamcasters was slow and methodical. Designing a stock that both fit a human well and didn't add ten kilos to the already massive weapon proved to be an engineering challenge that exceeded her team’s ability. The easiest solution would be to design and produce a custom moliplas molded stock, of which no companies on Bellatrix were capable. It was not an option to go off world, thus advertising their newly found firepower. Pip and a much more restrained Mandi requested and received permission to get the assistance of outside contractors. With the help provided by an firm in Tranquility a reinforced stock of old fashioned manmade plastic was devised. The guns were finally finished and ready for evaluation inside six months, only slightly longer than planned.

  The weapon was demonstrated to Jacob and the Chosen council on a fine Julast afternoon. Minu opened three firing ranges to allow Gregg and Aaron, the two Chosen who'd worked the most with the weapons, room to give their demonstration. For an hour they dodged around through a makeshift combat alley, rolling over obstacles and pulling off slightly clumsy snap shots to punch holes in dualloy targets.

  When it was over the councilmen thanked a beaming Aaron and Gregg personally, then came over to where Minu and her team waited nervously. Up until that morning they'd still been having reliability issues with the main power selector and the laser sight integrated into the locally manufactured fore grip. "Simply fantastic," Bjorn beamed, enjoying a rare chance for his science department to shine.

  "Wonderful accomplishment," Dram agreed in his deep baritone voice, a big ear to ear grin on his face.

  "Satisfactory," Jacob said. Every other council member glared at him. "Good job," he said and patted Minu on the shoulder. He thanked each member and shook their hands as well. When he got to Mandi, it was over in a second and he refused to look her in the eye. Minu almost busted her guts trying not to smile at the scene. No afterglow between those two. She suspected the romance died before being fully born, victim of a robot fire control system and an irate redhead.

  "Well then," Jacob said at last, "I officially pronounce the beamcasters as operational, and order they be added to the Chosen arsenal." There were cheers all around from Minu's team, including a small one by Minu herself. Jacob looked around disapprovingly.

  "And none too soon," Dram agreed. "Minu, how long was your recommended training routine?"

  "Two weeks," she said and handed him a computer tablet she'd already prepared, "any less is risky. We've installed interlocks on the guns that allow them to be operated in three modes. Training, normal field operation, and emergency. All levels are as we discussed during the design meetings. The training mode is completely non-lethal to a nominally armored man. Unless you hit them in the face or the spine. Normal field operations will punch holes in half inch dualloy and is good for about a hundred shots. Emergency is no-holds-barred. Power settings are completely at the users discretion and the weapon can unleash horrendous damage, for a few shots anyway."

  "Yes, only a few shots," Bjorn emphasized for the others. The councilors nodded in understanding.

  "Classes start tomorrow," Jacob said and gave her a chip. Minu used one of her holstered tablets to check it out.

  "Twenty students at a time?" she said incredulously. "There are only the three of us-"

  "Four," Pip growled.

  "Sorry, the four of us."

  "Then I guess
you're going to be busy," Jacob said.

  Minu had a vacant look on her face as she began to mentally juggle schedules. Only a third of the guns were refit, with more than a hundred to go. Beginning the training schedule with a full class and continuing the refit was going to be all but impossible. She gritted her teeth and spoke. "We'll manage."

  "I'm assigning Gregg and Aaron to you indefinitely," Jacob told her.

  "And given them these," Dram said and held out two boxes for them. Inside were four little black stars. More cheers. Minu smiled as she thought that all of her original group from the Trials now owned four stars. Cherise got hers months ago, and Pip last week. After the unofficial meeting broke up, Minu caught Dram's arm before he left.

  "What's the rush?" she asked.

  He looked at her quizzically. "You haven't been reading mission briefings, have you?"

  "I don't really have time," she said and again thought about her critically injured work schedule.

  "You should make time," he said with a serious tone. Minu let go and he left. Later, up in her office, Minu finished juggling her personal schedule, finally settling on six fifteen hour days per week. Twelve at work, three on school work, and an hour to herself. Putting aside the tablet she picked up a linked computer and accessed the Chosen database and began viewing mission logs. It took her a few minutes to find the scout logs of frontier missions. What she found left her stunned. Mission after mission resulting in combat. She accessed some tables of available manpower and hissed in disbelief. Of the three hundred trained scouts currently in service, fifty were out of action with injuries, and ten dead. All in the last six months. Everyone usually heard quickly when a Chosen died in the line of duty, but these deaths were being kept quiet. She went back through the logs and found where the casualties began. Less than a week after she retrieved the cache. Only a few more keystrokes told her that all of the casualties were inflicted by the Rasa.

  "What did I do?" she asked the dark office. The training schedule now made sense. The Chosen were in a de facto war. The Rasa wanted to get even.

  Part III

  Chapter 1

  December 9th, 517 AE

  Tranquility, Plateau Tribe

  Minu amazed at how quickly things changed. In the six months since last setting foot in her home town of Tranquility, many parts of it were no longer recognizable as the town she'd grown up in. As the dirigible circled to land, its passenger gondola almost empty and the crew looking dispirited, she saw some of the changes from a bird’s eye view. Two new skyscrapers were clawing their way up from the city center. One she'd known about (the new Intergalactic Trade Federation building), the other she didn't. The twenty story Chosen Tower was the tallest building in the city when she was a child, now it was quickly becoming a blade of grass lost in a forest.

  Just below the cable car station was the maglev terminal. Far off in the valley, maybe twenty-five kilometers away, she could see the gleaming arrow of a maglev train still picking up speed as it raced away. The trains represented a successful adaptation of Concordia technology that a scout team brought back only five years ago. All during her approach to the plateau the cable car stayed in the station, empty and unused. Barely ten years old, it was now antiquated and useless. Her group put the finishing touches to adapting the tram cars for the maglev to interface with local technology. Its current speed limit was only three hundred kilometers per hour, but there were hopes it could eventually exceed five hundred. The rails were constructed with that goal in mind.

  The city was alive with flying craft, nearly outnumbering ground cars. She knew that a traffic control computer had been installed two months ago. She'd read the story of the horrific accident that gave energy to the movement ending with the computer systems purchase and installation. Eleven dead, including five school children. The school sold all their flying buses even after the traffic computer guaranteed their operational 'safety'. Some stigmas took time to overcome. Judging by the air traffic, so dense that it brought Serengeti to mind, it would seem the average person wasn't deterred in the least.

  As the dirigible docked she scanned the passengers waiting in the boarding lounge for a familiar face and found none. The other day during lunch, Pip had said that if it wasn't for the Chosen and their families, the dirigible lines would have gone broke long ago. There was no evidence to dispute that claim here. She'd seen on the news during her flight that the maglev spur to Steven’s Pass started construction next spring. Progress rolls on. The business consortium which owned the maglev development contract, headed by Malovich Industries, bragged that they would circle the globe in only five more years. Extremists in the Desert Tribe vowed it would never happen. Their control of cross barrier desert trade was most of their fortune. Building permanent tracks across the shifting sands of the equatorial desert was a daunting engineering task. Minu had little doubt it would be accomplished.

  The airship docked successfully and the passengers disembarked. Minu bypassed the baggage claim. Like most Chosen she carried everything she needed in a single black shoulder bag. It was heavier than normal because of the gun inside. The order came down from Jacob a week earlier that all Chosen qualified in hand weapons were to be armed at all times, on or off base. No explanation was given, and almost no one knew why. Casualties continued to mount in what command and scouts called the Rasa Cold War. Minu understood the order far too well. The gun she now wore on her right hip, an old style firearm, was a constant reminder that the Rasa Cold War was at least partly her responsibility, regardless of her being cleared of any wrongdoing. Just two days ago she gave yet another interview to the press. An hour of feeding them platitudes and obfuscating the truth that anything was happening beyond the norm.

  Still, she was back home in Tranquility and on a forced vacation, so she vowed to have a good time. On her tablet was a list of things she wanted to do, including visiting a movie theater playing restored movies from Earth, the new amusement park on the south ridge, and visiting with Jovich. Trying to forget the last three months spent training hundreds of scouts to use the lethal beamcasters, she left the terminal and joined the sea of humanity flowing along the avenue.

  The hotel booked for her by logistics was new and hadn't been under construction the last time she visited. The room on the twentieth floor sported a wonderful view of the western edge of Plateau where she could just make out Founders Park through the lines of buildings. Leaving her bag on the bed she went down stairs to the restaurant. There, for the first time since becoming Chosen, she spent some pay. It was something she just never thought about. Why would she, her every need was taken care of. Sure she'd filled out the tax forms, been issued a debit card, and since then it sat in her personal effects in a safe, unused ever since. She'd almost missed the dirigible because she forgot the card and hard to run back for it. The waiter came by after her meal and offered a handheld terminal to swipe and pay for her meal.

  Minu took the printed receipt and left. On the street she glanced at the receipt before pocketing it, then jerked it back out. The meal cost five point eight credits, and she'd tipped a full credit making the total six point eight credits. Below the total was her account balance, after the meal and hotel room (deducted by logistics automatically) her net worth was just under three thousand credits. "Shit, I'm rich!" she blurted, earning her a stern look from a woman walking her kids.

  "See, that's why I want to be Chosen," the older of the two boys laughed. The mother scowled even bigger and mumbled something about crude language as she bodily hauled her kids down the street.

  Minu wandered around the district for a couple hours, taking in the differences and spotting things that occasionally looked the same. Over all, she felt like a stranger in her own home town. Eventually she found herself at the Temple Plaza and was surprised, it was nearly deserted. Her whole life it was the center of most off world traffic, often busy even in the middle of the night. Trucks and wagons would wait by the loading docks for goods to be brought through the por
tal or shipped out, while people waited in lines for their chance to take trading trips to all corners of the galaxy. Now the plaza looked like a ghost town.

  Minu walked up the steps to the ancient portal building. A lone Chosen stood there, an honor guard duty she had never stood. While he was prepared to let her past without review (who would wear a Chosen uniform except a Chosen?) she produced her ID anyway. He nodded and watched as she walked past. Inside was the polished dualloy and ceramic concrete portal chamber.

  The chamber was just as quiet as the rest of the complex, only one Chosen was on duty and it was none other than Jovich. But he wasn't sitting at the control console where you would normally find him. He was sitting cross legged on the portal dais and looked to be deep in meditation. "Jovich," Minu called through the speaker. She couldn't enter, the chamber was locked.

  When he didn't respond, she called again. This time he stirred and looked around. When he spotted her he smiled hugely and got up. Minu noted how slowly he got to his feet, the pain briefly visible on his face. He removed a control rod from the pocked sewn into his pant leg and released the door which silently slid open. "What were you doing?" she asked as he walked over.

  "Old habit," he said with a shrug and a strange look on his face, "just something an old man does to while away the hours before someone starts shoveling dirt in his face."

  Minu smacked him on the arm with mock anger and he feigned great injury as she turned to glance back at the portal. "Why don't you tell me?"

  "Because I'd rather catch up with an old friend," he said and scooped her up in a huge hug. After he'd given her the attention she deserved, he grabbed her hand to lift her wrist for close inspection. Four little golden stars twinkled there, almost as brightly as his eyes at seeing those stars. "Well on your way," he said, a little choked up, "your father would be proud." She looked at his cuff where three black stars lined with gold sat. Funny that she'd never noticed the gold lining. She opened her mouth to ask the meaning when he suddenly spoke again. "You really want to know what I was doing?"