by Mark Wandrey
“What the fuck do you mean you’re cutting my funding?!” Dean Minu Groves slammed her right fist down on the conference room table hard enough to crack the ancient, native, palm wood and startle all those present.
The university chancellor looked like he was about to scream in fear as Minu’s gaze bored into him from across the table, her green eyes flashing like lasers, and her shinning red hair escaping the waist-length ponytail she’d put it in for the meeting. Judging by the chancellor’s reaction, you’d have thought Minu towered over him, instead of being forty centimeters shorter.
“I have students lined up a thousand deep for admission to the War College, which I might add is one of the few departments to bring in even close to what we expend in funds. If you’re taking money from me to give it to that damned sports program, so help me—”
“No, no, Dean Groves, I assure you that is not the case!” the slender, matronly bursar assured Minu.
The sports program, which included football, soccer, and baseball, had begun operating a year after Minu’s War College formally started accepting full-time degree students. The program was wildly popular among recent primary school graduates, bringing thousands of students from across Bellatrix to Plateau to attend school when they might well have stayed closer to their native tribes if the offer of sports hadn’t tempted them away. She’d fought an unending war with them since Day One for her precious funding.
And it was yielding secondary benefits (at least in the eyes of the governors). Professional sports teams were popping up all over the planet, something humanity had lost in the destruction of their home world five hundred years earlier.
The students coming to Minu’s college were older men and women, often veteran Chosen or law enforcement personnel. They seldom played sports, but they almost always paid cash. Her school gave out the fewest scholarships of any college at the university, and that was the main reason her new building was built five years earlier, before construction even started on the new sports complex.
She wasn’t completely against athletics, of course; soldiers needed strong bodies. But she was after the leaders, the future generals of humanity. “Give me those with brains and grit; we can build the body later.” She’d used that line during an interview after the celebration launching the War College, and now it was carved in the stone over the building’s main door. Minu never thought the saying was all that clever.
“So why are you cutting my budget by five percent?”
“Research grants,” explained Dean Hurt. Minu glared at him, but with only a fraction of the animosity she reserved for other money-grubbing bastards. After all, Ted had been her friend for a long time.
They’d been a package deal six years ago. She had come to run the new War College, and he’d become the new dean of the physical sciences department, replacing Katherine Diego who had died in a skiing accident somewhere halfway across the galaxy. Minu had taken classes from her years ago. She’d been a fair and brilliant professor. The difference between Minu and Ted was that Ted had retired from the Chosen as an honorary with four silver stars, while Minu was still active, but banished.
“For what?”
“Environmental research.”
“Oh.” That took the wind out of her sails. If there was anything worth picking her department’s pockets for it was that. Two years in a row, record hot spells and major crop failures had devastated the planet. Only massive efforts led by the Chosen had saved thousands in the Peninsula tribe from starvation.
The thought of people starving to death in sight of Ft. Jovich sent chills up her spine. All over the planet, massive greenhouse construction projects were underway. The planetary leadership considered purchasing food off-world to be deal breaker. It was bad enough the planet was hooked on Concordia energy, without adding food to the list. “Is there anything my department can do?”
“Don’t throw a fit over five percent?”
Minu blushed and nodded her head. “Sorry,” she said, with a pointed glance at the sweaty face of the perpetually nervous chancellor, “I tend to be overprotective.”
“You think?” asked the bursar. Minu chuckled and everyone relaxed, even the Chancellor. “Everyone knows what great work you are doing, Dean Groves, but you have to believe there is a good reason for the budget cut. All the departments contributed something when the hat went around, except yours.”
“I guess I didn’t read all the details on that last budget.”
“Doesn’t your assistant, Miss Beck, handle reviewing the budget?”
“Ariana has been out this month, her fourth baby.” A few heads nodded around the room. “I was going to request a temp, but never got around to it.”
The meeting only lasted a few more minutes before breaking up. Minu caught Ted as they strolled out onto the university quad. They both donned wide-brimmed hats without thinking. The bright Julast sun, always brutal in Plateau, was much worse these last few years. Everyone knew why, but no-one wanted to talk about it.
“What’s on your mind?” Ted asked her.
“Var’at wants to know if you would help him with the harvesting bots.”
Ted nodded and unconsciously looked up. As luck would have it, Romulus was transecting the sky near the horizon, so it wasn’t washed out by the glaring disk of their sun. Its brilliant swirling green and blue seas of algae now held a dozen Rasa settlements. The people living on the floating towns harvested the algae for off-world sale.
They also had a thriving niche market in the sale of the disgusting, little, slimy invertebrates called squidge that fed on the algae. The Traaga and a couple of other minor species considered squidge a delicacy, but they reminded Minu of shrimp covered in snot. She found the Traaga equally obnoxious, but there was no accounting for taste.
“I can pop up there this weekend on the shuttle.” Ted scratched and shook his head. “The bots are a constant problem. The algae farms aren’t affected by the solar radiation increase?’
“Not that Var’at can tell. His scientists believe the algae evolved in these changing conditions and alter the albedo of the surface of the planet to compensate.”
“Makes sense. Those bots were a fine idea of Lilith’s. She’d have been quite a good scientist.”
Minu nodded, then shrugged.
“Problem?” Ted asked.
“Lilith has been kinda moody lately.”
“She is about fifteen or sixteen now, right? She’s probably...becoming a woman.”
Minu gawked at him and shook her head. “As a woman, you’d think that would have been the first thing that came to my mind. She argues with me every chance she gets.”
“Bingo.”
“Stupid, Minu, stupid.”
She shook her head and squeezed Ted’s hand. “I’ll talk to her soon.”
Ted shrugged. “Why not come with me when I go to Romulus this weekend? We can bribe the pilot to stop off at the Kaatan.”
“Sure, why not? Aaron and I were going to go out, but he won’t mind getting a chance to have some vacuum in his pants.” Ted chuckled, and she shook her head.
“Is he doing okay?” he asked.
Minu turned somber and shrugged. “Retirement isn’t treating him well. I don’t think he’s the sort to make business his life.”
“He’s lucky to be alive after that crash.”
“Trust me, we know.”
* * *
Minu walked through the doors of the technology firm, Groves Industries, and nodded to the receptionist. The beautiful blond woman instantly recognized Minu and flashed her a huge smile. She idolized Minu and had only taken the usually annoying front door job because she got to chat with Minu from time to time. In years gone, by such juvenile worship might have bothered Minu, but she’d long since accepted it.
“Hello, Chosen Groves! How are you today?”
“I’m fine, Celeste.”
“You’re here early!”
“Yeah, wanted to surprise my man.”
“He
’s in a design meeting, but I’m sure he won’t mind.”
“Thanks.” Minu walked past her and through the computer-controlled door, which recognized her ID implant and opened automatically.
Celeste watched the Chosen go and sighed. She’d tried twice to join, first in the Chosen Trials and again through a Rangers’ recruiting course. When neither of those worked out, she had to settle for being as close to them as she could. Working for Groves Industries was about as close as you could get.
Minu walked down a hallway, richly appointed with native hardwoods and digital images of projects finished, underway, or dreamed of. One wall was a long window overlooking the panoramic boardroom. Inside were a dozen men and women along both sides of a huge table, watching her husband, Aaron, give a presentation. The four walls of the long boardroom (even the window she looked through) were active displays that could become transparent. She could see displays showing technical schematics and all sorts of figures on the other three walls. Aaron looked up from a chart he was explaining to see her standing there and cracked a big smile before returning to his work. She let herself in as quietly as possible.
“The statistics are promising on the second-generation drive adaptations,” he explained to the group of investors. “We anticipate going into production inside of six months.”
“Some of us believe you are being overconfident,” one man said.
“The Chosen don’t think so,” Minu replied, and all heads turned to see her. They all stood and bowed, offering their respects to arguably the most famous Chosen in history. She gave a small bow in return and gestured them back to their seats. “The council plans to purchase the first five units off the assembly line.”
She was not being entirely truthful. Their purchase was contingent on several factors, sufficient investment being one of them. So, she stretched things a bit for a good cause.
At her words many of them turned to talk to each other, some nodding in appreciation of this news, while others still looked skeptical. “You are the last group to be invited to join this venture,” Aaron said, pushing to close the deal, “so please consider carefully, then make your decisions. Elizabeth, my associate, will talk to you all when you are ready. Thank you for your time.”
The room broke out in polite applause as Aaron turned, picked up his cane from the boardroom table, and walked toward Minu at the exit. His gait was unchanged, a quick left step followed by a slower right. Each step etched pain on his face as he leaned on the crutch, but he still smiled as he approached. Minu leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. “Tough room,” she said.
“Your timing is impeccable, as always.” Minu slipped an arm around his waist, not to help him, but simply to enjoy the contact. She knew better than to help him. “I was losing that group from New Jerusalem.”
“I thought we’d made the budget goals?”
“I thought so too, but the audit we had last week found a shortfall. Of course, the damn bank instantly started to balk, so we had to dip back into the well for another helping. We’ve cut this pie so many times, I don’t think the firm will make one percent profit. But this project is the beginning of getting the shuttles into production.”
They reached his office at the end of the hallway. “Aaron Groves, CEO, Groves Industries” was etched on the door in gold.
The tiny company they’d inherited years ago when his father died had grown into the preeminent aerospace industrial concern on Bellatrix under Aaron’s management and inventiveness and Minu’s money-raising ability. She was somewhat surprised that she’d become not only a competent public speaker, but an accomplished one who was regularly in demand. Years of lecturing students and speaking at building dedications (often named after her) had done their magic.
The source of the business was a surprise to Aaron. Olives were the family business when he was growing up, and he hadn’t known his father had started the small aerospace company while he was serving in the Chosen.
Aaron opened the door with his left hand and headed straight to the overstuffed couch, forgoing the expensive kloth leather office chair behind the modest oak desk. He sank gratefully into the upholstery and sighed in relief. “God, I was almost at my end in there.”
“Not feeling any better?”
“No,” he admitted as he relaxed.
Minu closed the door and locked it before sitting next to him. She removed his shoes, one at a time, and rolled up his pant legs. Angry, red swelling marked the places on both legs where his flesh ended, and the cybernetics began.
It had been a year since the accident, and his body still hadn’t adapted to the prosthetics like hers had. The codex data had helped, for sure. Without it they would have had to remove the artificial limbs months ago or risk losing him to catastrophic rejection. “Maybe it’s a little better.” His body was fighting the nano-tailored dualloy fusions between his body and the limbs. It was a rare and painful side effect.
Minu gently massaged the flesh of his mid left thigh, just above where that leg ended. The muscles underneath were just as strong as before, but the skin was a mishmash of scar tissue and inflammation. The other leg was the same where it ended, just above his knee. The doctors believed he would eventually heal, but it was just taking a long time.
“How was the meeting with the board of governors?” he asked, changing the subject.
“They cut my budget by five percent.”
“What? Why?” he asked.
“Realigned some research grants. Environmental sciences.”
“Oh.”
“Ted says hello,” she said. “He was wondering how you are.”
“Offering his pity?”
“Don’t be like that.” He snorted and got to his feet, heedless of the pain. She tried to cut off his mood. “He hopes you’re getting better, that’s all. People care about you, Aaron.”
“That’s why the fucking council forced me into retirement?” She sighed; it was too late. “They waited two years for Pip and didn’t make him retire although he came back as a sexual deviant with a metal plate in his head.”
“Aaron!”
He stared out the office’s lone window. Outside the sun bore down relentlessly, but the window’s UV shield and the building’s atmosphere processor kept it a comfortable twenty degrees Celsius inside. Finally, he sighed. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
Minu stood and walked to him, putting her arms around his waist from behind. They were so close to the same height it was a comfortable thing to do. He tensed, then relaxed, caressing her right hand.
“You’re the lucky one, you know?”
“Lucky?” she asked. “I didn’t feel lucky when that kloth was gnawing on my arm or when the Tanam tore my legs to shreds.”
He looked down at his naked cybernetic feet, indistinguishable from his originals. “We’ve both been pretty fucked up, haven’t we?”
“You can say that again.” Minu looked at his desk. A model of the AX-1 sat on it, and mounted on the wall behind was a large 3-D image.
She’d sat in the operations center as he’d piloted the AX-1 on its first reentry. She’d stood there, unable to breathe, as he sent his last transmission. “Controls are unresponsive.” The controllers begged him to eject, but the records showed he never once reached for the bar, even when the manual, attitude-control jets he’d used to ride the dying shuttle all the way down from orbit ran out of fuel, twenty meters above the runway.
At four hundred KPH, a twenty-meter fall was like dropping into a wood chipper. Despite his efforts, the prototype was a complete loss, and his legs melted in the fire while he waited three eternal minutes for the fire crew to fight through the wreckage to reach him. The fire crew chief was in tears when he saw Minu later.
“He never once screamed,” he told her. “He just calmly led us to him, asking if we could hurry but be careful. We thought he was fine!”
“Why are you pushing yourself?” she asked Aaron, as he stood there in obvious pain. She’d felt that pai
n as she fought to adjust to the prosthetic muscles in her legs after the fight with the Tanam. The cybernetic muscles in her legs were harder to adapt to than the complete replacement of her right arm. She already knew the answer.
“The AX-2 will be ready in six months,” he said. Minu tried to ignore the shiver of terror that ran up her back, but it must have reached him through her arms. “You don’t think I can make it?”
“No, that’s not it.” she said and gently turned him to face her, “I’m terrified that you will.”
His face softened, and he kissed her, with passion this time. “That massage felt really good.”
“Yeah? You want some more?” She was slowly unbuttoning the conservative blouse she wore.
His eyes sparkled as he watched the show. “Sure. Lock the door, will you?”
“I already did,” she said as his strong hands found her breasts.
* * * * *
Chapter 2
Julast 13th, 533 AE
Sanctuary Island, Plateau Tribal Territory, Bellatrix
Hours later, Minu was setting the table in their cabin while Aaron was putting the finishing touches on dinner; farm-raised sea bass from Peninsula with new potatoes and broccoli. Minu had installed a couple of strategically-placed handholds in the kitchen months earlier. Aaron had been furious, at first, but she’d told him to shut up; the house was hers, not his.
He’d quietly begun using them within a few days, and now they were part of his normal routine. It was difficult to cook with one hand holding a cane. The extra places for him to lean and hold on to gave him the help he needed to make their nightly ritual a partnership.
Outside an aerocar whined overhead, and Minu almost snarled unconsciously. Her secret hideaway had been public knowledge for years, and it wasn’t unheard of for a reporter to make an unauthorized visit. She glanced at the clock hanging next to the sink and noted the time.
“Gregg is here,” Aaron said from next to the stove where he had a view of the enlarged parking area, confirming her thoughts.