by John Ringo
Megan flipped through the briefing papers and found the appropriate page.
"Each shuttle access point has a readout showing where it is going when it refuels and where each other refueling shuttle is going."
"Assuming one side or the other doesn't control the shuttles," Herzer said.
"Communications," Megan said. "Quantum communicators are useable on the ship but their power will be drained until we're outside geosynchronous orbit where some of the Net protocols fall off. There are chargers in the shuttles." She flipped through the notes some more and nodded. "The suits have a similar problem with power. Once up there they're going to work on batteries but have to be charged. The suits will have communicators. In addition to the batteries they have three other backup power systems based around a wind-up handle," she added with a grin the cocked her head. "You have to see these things. There's a note here that says, in all seriousness: 'The use of domesticated rodents for suit power was contemplated and rejected after analysis.'"
"What do you want to bet it was hamsters?" Herzer said with a grin.
"What was the name of that inventor that created gadgets that did things in the most complex way?"
"Bill Gates?" Herzer asked. "Something like that?"
"No I was thinking Goldsmith or something," Megan mused. "Good Lord!"
"What?" Herzer asked, not turning away from the schematic.
"I just read the description of the suit plumbing," Megan said. "Yick!"
"Can I borrow that?" Herzer asked, turning away from the schematic thoughtfully.
"Of course," Megan said, holding out the thick book.
"Thanks," he replied, wandering out of the room. "I'll be in the weight room if anyone needs me."
Chapter Six
When Meredith walked into her office, Herzer was sitting on the weight bench with a heavily loaded weight bar suspended over his knees and a book tucked into his crotch. He appeared to be reading. As she watched, the bar slowly rose up to touch his shoulder and then lowered back down. After one more rep he lifted it to the holder, turned the page on the book and lifted it back down. After four more slow reps he repeated himself.
Meredith turned away from the sight, frowning and sat at her desk for a moment. Then she got up and walked to the filing cabinet, pulling out a file and sitting down at her desk again. The sound in the background was maddeningly repetitive. Flip of a page, clink of the weights leaving the holder, four long, slow, breaths with no real sound of effort, clink of the bar, flip of the page, repeat. Occasionally there would be a grunt of surprise or a disgusted snort. Occasionally there would be a long pause and she could imagine the bar hanging in mid-air, effortlessly held there, then the breath would be let out, the page would flip, repeat.
Finally, after realizing that she'd just read the same page of a complicated bill twice and didn't actually read it either time, she turned around angrily.
"Are you actually reading that or just looking at the pretty pictures?" she asked disparagingly.
"I'm reading it," Herzer said without looking up. She could see a drop of sweat forming on the tip of his nose but if he noticed it wasn't apparent.
"Well," she said, glancing at the close set text on the page, "if you are, you're reading it awfully fast. Skimming something isn't going to do anyone any good."
Herzer paused with the bar in mid-rep, held out in front of him, and a muscle on his jaw flexed. He turned and looked at her, sharply, then began to recite.
"The Mark-14 Quantum communicator has a range of..." he paused and frowned, the bar still held in mid-air, "sixty-four thousand kilometers. It works by something called a mee-zon generator, whatever the hell that is, and has up to one million discrete frequencies. Although it is unjammable and can't be intercepted, during the AI War when the system was used frequently, enemies would install interception devices in them. The systems we'll be using will be voice activated and frequency agile, whatever the hell that means. There is an alternate implant system which we won't be using because there's an attack method through them. Satisfied?" he asked, looking back down at the page. He set the bar down and flipped back a few pages, then grunted in satisfaction. "Yeah, sixty four thousand." He flipped back to the page he'd been reading, picked up the bar and began slowly lifting it and lowering it again.
Meredith watched him for a moment and then turned around slowly to get back to work.
* * *
"Hello," Shanea said to the older woman at the door. She'd been past by the sentries so, presumably, she was safe. "Can I help you?"
"I'm looking for Herzer," the woman said, smiling. "I've got some lists to go over."
"He's in the office," Shanea said. "Would you like to step in? And you're...?"
"June Lasker," the lady said.
"I'll go get him," Shanea replied, gesturing at a seat in the entry foyer.
"Herzer," she said, walking in the office.
"Yeah?" he grunted, pressing a mass of weights.
"Come on up just a touch more," Bue Pedersen said, his fingers hovering over the bar. "Almost there. You know you're badly out of shape. That's only, what, a hundred and ninety kilos?"
"Fisk you, Bue," Herzer said, dumping the weights onto the rack and sitting up. "What's up, Shanea?"
"There's a lady named...June here with some lists..." Shanea said, blinking rapidly. Herzer had taken off his shirt and it was apparent that his upper body was getting corded with muscles, the veins in his arms and torso standing out against pale skin. "Uhmm..."
"Crap," Herzer muttered. "Okay, Bue, I'm going to be at this a while; they're probably the technical personnel lists. You might as well get back to the War Department."
"Can I ask what this is all about?" Bue said.
"Not yet," Herzer replied. "Soon."
"Okay," Bue said, shrugging. "Want me to come back this evening?"
"No," Herzer grunted. "I'll be at this most of the afternoon and damned if I'm going to spend all evening pumping weights. Tomorrow is lower body. Say Thursday if that's okay?"
"I'll be back," Bue said with a nod. "Have fun."
Herzer picked up his shirt and wiped off some sweat then looked up at Shanea.
"We'll probably need drinks and some lunch if you don't mind," he said, smiling. "I hate using you as a gopher..."
"That's okay," Shanea said, blinking again and then smiling. "Whatever you need."
* * *
Herzer nodded his head as she left and then frowned, replaying the reply.
"Don't read anything into it that's not there," he muttered, walking out of the room and down the hall to his and Megan's bedroom. He stripped out of the shorts and wiped down hastily with a towel then climbed into a new set and a clean shirt.
"June," he said as he came in the foyer. "It's been, what? Three years?"
"About that, Herzer," June said, smiling and standing up. "You've come up in the world," she added, gesturing around.
"Getting engaged to a council member will do that for you," he said, frowning. "I take it Edmund put you in charge of finding replacement personnel?"
"Yes, and we're going to have a fun time," she added, picking up her valise. "Where?"
"Living room," he said, gesturing the way. They gathered around the coffee table and June started pulling out files.
"I found six people in Raven's Mill's files and Federal records that listed a background in late information age space engineering," June said, laying out the files. "I've put a request in to the Federal Intelligence Agency to find them and they've all been identified and located."
Herzer picked up the first file and looked at the age and grunted. "This guy is over two hundred. I'm not sure he'll be up to it."
"That is a problem with several of the personnel," June said. "the first three on the list are all over two hundred. Another I happen to know is claustrophobic. You realize you're going to have to deal with situational anxiety on this mission, right?"
"I hadn't even thought about it," Herzer admitted.
"The conditions in the shuttles will be tight," June said. "And the ship is better but not great. Then there's the fact that they might have to go EVA..."
"I've seen that as an acronym," Herzer said. "That means space walking, right?"
"Yes," June said, grinning. "It stands for 'Extra Vehicular Activity.' You're getting out of whatever vehicle and moving around. You weren't into space stuff I take it?"
"Not at all," Herzer admitted, looking at another file. "This guy is old but another of his comments is that he's a long distance runner. That will at least mean he might be in shape. Pilots?"
"That was somewhat easier," June said, smiling. "I've got nine of those. One of them...is a little odd..."
"Define odd," Herzer said, frowning. "And no ancient or cripples?"
"Not crippled by any means," June said, frowning. "Her file actually came from the Intelligence Department; she had been some sort of an agent in Ropasa but is now in the UFS. She Changed herself, before the Fall, into a...well a bird, sort of..."
"Jolie?" Herzer said, picking up the file. "No, Joie?"
"You know her?" June asked.
"I met her; she had joined up with Megan in Gael," Herzer said, looking at the file. "She doesn't have a current listed address. What is she doing?"
"Working as waitress in Belmopan," June said, shrugging. "But she piloted before the Change including inter-planetary. She's trained, according to the records, in celestial navigation and orbital mechanics."
Herzer considered his memory of the seven foot bird-woman and shrugged.
"Odder things have happened," he said. "Get the word out to get her down here right away. What about computer techs?"
"Fewer of those," June admitted. "Only six and one is nearly three hundred. He's still alive but mostly retired, he does wood working in Raven's Mill. And we can't find one," she added, slipping out a file and sliding it across the table. "A Courtney Deadwiler. I think she might have married and changed her name, but I didn't find it in the records."
"You've got to be joking," Herzer said, opening up the file and glancing at the data. "Jesus Christ! Courtney?"
"You know her, too?" June said with a faint smile. "Do you know where we can find her?"
"Right here in Washan last time I checked," Herzer said. "She and her husband are here lobbying the Agriculture Department. They've got a farm outside Raven's Mill and are trying to get some of the opening land in the Sippa delta." He paused and shook his head in disbelief at the image of Courtney in a space suit. "She's got four kids!"
"Fast work," June said, smiling faintly.
"Courtney on a space ship?" Herzer said, shaking his head. "I have a hard time picturing that!"
"She listed a background in early computer technology, hardware and software," June noted. "System analysis, routing...frankly she looks like the best replacement we have if she wasn't padding her resume."
"I don't know if they're currently here," Herzer temporized. "Hang on a second."
He went to the door and gave the sergeant of the guard orders to go check their hotel and see if they were still in town.
"If they are, leave a message that I need to see them this evening. Not before then but it's urgent."
"Yes, sir," the sergeant said.
"Go yourself," Herzer added. "Tell your lieutenant I ordered it. And send a message for Cruz to be here at four."
"Yes, sir," the sergeant said as Herzer shut the door.
"We'll see if they're still in town," he added to June. "Find someplace at the War Department for interviews and start rounding all the rest up except the ancient and the cripples."
"I will," June said, picking up the files.
"I'm going to need copies of all that," Herzer said, gesturing at the paper. "More reading. Bleck. And tell Edmund that we'll either need copies of all the planning data up at the camp down here or we'll have to move up there, soon."
"Will do," June said, stuffing the last file away. "I don't suppose I could go?"
"The lure of space," Herzer asked, shaking his head. "Got a background in early technology?"
"No, unfortunately," June sighed. "But this is going to be the last chance to work with technology for most of us until the war is won. It would be nice to ken again."
"I don't know that the ship has that ability," Herzer pointed out.
"Oh, I'm sure it has replicators at least," June said. "But I get your point. I guess I'll have to remain ground bound."
Herzer considered June's words after she had left. Prior to the Fall there had been many people attracted to space. He didn't know why, there wasn't anything out there. But it was a major lure in a time when finding something to pass the time was a major factor in survival and boredom came on easily. Some people had even moved off planet and a few had Changed themselves to be able to actually live in space for short periods.
There had been a brief heyday when terraforming of Mars and the moon had been considered but eventually abandoned. There simply weren't that many people interested in moving off Earth given reduced populations and the diversions available on the planet.
But there were...he searched his memory for a moment... habitats that existed in space. He had no idea what had happened to most of them, if anyone survived. He wasn't sure how they could but, then again, he wasn't sure that they had been as drained of power and function as Earth. It might be that some people survived to this day. There wasn't much that anyone could do for them; the only reason the shuttles were going to work was that the power drain protocols wouldn't affect them. So anyone who had been off-planet was stranded; any attempt to enter Earth's orbit would mean loss of power in their vehicle.
Shanea came in the room with a tray of cold cuts and bread and looked around.
"Your guest is gone already?" she asked, unhappily.
"Sorry," Herzer said, shrugging. "It didn't take as long as I thought it would, mainly because there wasn't much to choose from. I'll eat it, though."
"Oh, okay," Shanea said, sunnily, sliding the tray onto the table. "Do you mind if I join you?"
"No," Herzer said, making a large sandwich of various meats and cheese.
"I hate eating alone," Shanea said, picking up a slice of cheese and nibbling it, sitting on the edge of one of the chairs.
"I don't," Herzer said, shrugging. "I've eaten alone and I've eaten in a crowd of thousands of people. You can be just as alone there," he added.
"I mean alone like nobody to talk to," Shanea added. "I like to talk to people when I'm eating."
"Don't get a full mouth, then," Herzer said.
"Depends on what it's full of," Shanea said then blushed. "Sorry."
"That's okay," Herzer replied, looking at her with one eyebrow raised. "Harem humor?"
"Something like that," Shanea sighed. "I don't miss the harem, much, but sometimes I get more bored here then there. I feel all cooped up. Megan hardly lets me go out at all."
"Uhmmm, Shanea?" Herzer said. "You're your own person. You can go out any time you want.' He paused and thought about it. "Can't you?"
"Well..." Shanea said, then shrugged. "Megan doesn't like it. She's never really said it, but she always says no when I ask if I can go shopping or something. And Mirta and Meredith and Ashley go out all the time. I think it's because she's, you know, important now. And I hear things, you know? And, face it, sometimes I do some dumb things, too. So she's afraid I'll embarrass her. At least, that's what I think," she ended, miserably.
Herzer considered her words for a minute and then frowned.
"I can see part of the point," Herzer admitted. "You do have access to some very high level intelligence and you'd be surprised how easy it is to make the mistake of giving something away. But you shouldn't be held against your will. And you shouldn't need Megan's permission to go shopping. There are other ways to handle it."
The first that came to mind was getting the poor girl a husband or a lover or something. Someone who was trustworthy. If he'd ever seen the type to la
nd on her back with her legs open, that was Shanea and she clearly wasn't getting any here. Neither was he, come to think of it, which led quickly to thoughts he shied away from.
He wracked his brain for a moment, repeatedly pulling it away from the entirely pleasant image of escorting her around himself, and then hit on a face. Not the brightest officer he knew but one that was solid, dependable and trustworthy. Now if he could just remember the guy's name.
"I'll see about setting something up," Herzer said. "What we need to do is get you an escort; someone to show you around town and make sure you stay safe. You're going to need nearly as much security as Megan, you know. But we'll make it so you can get out and spend some of your pay."
"What's that?" Shanea asked, picking up another slice of cheese.
Herzer froze as he was about to take a bite out of his sandwich and lowered it.
"You're not getting paid?" he asked, frowning.
"I don't know," Shanea said, suddenly wary. "What is it?"
"You know that shopping requires money, right?" Herzer asked.
"Yes," Shanea said. "I guess."
"So if you go shopping, you'll need some money," Herzer explained.
"I guess," Shanea said. "The times I've gone out it's been with Megan or Meredith. They do that."
"Oh," Herzer said, shaking his head. "Shanea, can you add and subtract?"
"Oh, sure," she said. "One plus one is eleven. Two plus two is twenty two...I get kind of confused after that," she admitted, taking a bite of cheese.
Herzer bit into his sandwich thoughtfully. He shouldn't have been surprised. Before the Fall there had been no need to have any skill in mathematics or reading and the number of people who had the skills were, therefore, vanishingly small.
However, since the Fall, people had started picking up the skills quickly. There were still vast groups that were illiterate and unable to add but not like before. It was impossible to do most highly skilled jobs in the UFS without some moderate academic training.