The Empire's Corps: Book 05 - The Outcast

by Christopher Nuttall

  “I had to stay on the ship while the boys went down to the surface,” Jayne said, tapping the bed. “I don’t think I’d like your homeworld very much.”

  “No,” Sameena agreed. The Guardians would have a collective heart attack if they saw Jayne wearing her outfit. If they could beat a woman for daring to show a single strand of hair – and her husband, if he didn't have any powerful connections – she hated to think what they would do to Jayne. “I didn't like it much either.”

  “Smart girl,” Jayne said. “Undress and get onto the bed.”

  Sameena hesitated. “You’re a doctor?”

  “I have the qualifications to prove it,” Jayne said, tartly. “Don’t you have female doctors on your homeworld?”

  “No,” Sameena admitted, silently thanking God that she had never been ill. Male doctors were not allowed to touch female patients, merely ask them questions. And that was if they were lucky. If the husband was very traditionalist, the doctor would have to ask him questions instead. There was no such thing as a female doctor on Jannah, only midwives. “There are none on my homeworld.”

  “Barbarians,” Jayne said, crossly. She tapped the bed meaningfully. “Come on and undress. I really don’t have all day. And then we will find you something a little more appropriate to wear. If you want to be part of the crew, you have to look the part.”

  Sameena swallowed hard and started to undress. She had never been completely naked in front of anyone, except her mother – and that only when she'd been very young. Now, a complete stranger was going to be looking at her ... she bit her lip as she lay down on the bed, hoping that it would be quick.

  At least she isn't the Judge, she thought. I won’t ever have to marry him.

  Chapter Four

  The basic law of economics is summed up in the interaction of supply and demand. If demand outstrips supply, prices will rise; if supply outstrips demand, prices will fall. This seems outrageously simple in theory, but in practice it can become alarmingly complex.

  - Professor Leo Caesius. The Science That Isn’t: Economics and the Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire.

  “Interesting,” Jayne said, twenty minutes later. “Very interesting indeed.”

  Sameena gritted her teeth. Being naked made her feel vulnerable ... and she wasn't entirely sure that she trusted Jayne enough to be vulnerable near her, even if she was female. The doctor had waved ... devices over her body, taken a sample of her blood and poked and prodded at her orifices. Sameena was honestly uncertain just what, if anything, was going on, or what Jayne hoped to find out. It seemed rather more like pointless sadism to her.

  “What,” she demanded finally, “is so interesting?”

  “Your homeworld was founded by a religious sect that banned genetic engineering,” Jayne said. She saw Sameena’s blank look and hastened to explain. “The science of modifying the human genome in hopes of improving it. Quite a few low-tech worlds have the same blanket ban in place, forbidding any form of human improvement. But there are definite traces of genetic engineering in your bloodstream.”

  Sameena frowned, not understanding. “What did they do?”

  “I think they gave you – your ancestors, I should say – a basic upgrade package ... probably around seven hundred years ago,” Jayne said, after a long moment. “You have improved resistance to disease, you heal quicker than pureblood humans ... there may be other modifications beyond my ability to detect. That isn't too uncommon, really. A low-tech world means low-tech medical science. Giving you some improvements might have been intended to prevent you from rediscovering medical science for yourself.”

  “I don’t understand,” Sameena confessed. “How?”

  Jayne gave her a vaguely superior smile. “You do understand how humans produce more humans, don’t you?”

  Sameena nodded, sharply. Her mother had told her when she’d asked, then threatened the whipping of a lifetime if Sameena ever mentioned the fact she knew to anyone.

  “The child combines ... aspects from both mother and father,” Jayne added. “In this case, the original colonists were improved and then the improvements were passed down through the generations until you were born.”

  “I see, I think,” Sameena said. Had the Guardians known? Or the powerful people Uncle Muhammad had worked for? “What else did they do?”

  “Your eyesight and hearing are both excellent,” Jayne said. “That’s probably intended to remove another incentive to rediscover science. I was worried that they might have done something to your brain, but it seems they weren't quite that foolish. A low-tech world might not have the ability to deal with the problems when they cropped up – and they would.”

  She glanced down at the terminal in her hand. “Virgin, of course,” she added. “That’s uncommon at your age.”

  Sameena blushed, furiously.

  “Nothing seems to be wrong with your reproductive system,” Jayne continued, smirking openly now. “I’ll give you an implant for coping with your time of the month – there's no reason why you should have to put up with it on the ship, or anywhere else for that matter. The implant will also serve to prevent pregnancy, should you decide you wish to have sex with someone. You can get it removed just about anywhere ...”

  She chuckled as Sameena’s blush grew worse. “Don’t worry about it,” she added. “If you’re not interested, just say so.”

  Sameena sat upright and swung her legs over the bed, allowing them to dangle down towards the deck. “Are we finished yet?”

  “Almost,” Jayne said. She reached into a small cupboard and produced a white uniform, which she passed to Sameena. “This is a basic shipsuit, providing limited protection from the vacuum of space. If you hear the emergency alarm, pull the mask” – she demonstrated – “over your face, then head to the nearest emergency airlock or cache.”

  Sameena frowned. “What if there isn't one nearby?”

  “Then you need to bend over and kiss your ass goodbye,” Jayne explained, shaking her head. “Space can kill, easily. If you happen to be caught up in a disaster without emergency supplies, you’re screwed.”

  “Oh,” Sameena said.

  She pulled the shipsuit over her head and frowned at the way it moulded itself to her body, outlining her breasts and hips for everyone to see. Jayne was far better developed, she knew, but Jayne was related to all of the adult males on the ship. Everyone could stare at Sameena ...

  “You can wear something else over the suit,” Jayne said. She dug into another cupboard and produced a long white coat. “But not wearing the suit while you’re outside a secure compartment will be severely punished. Wear it at all times until you know where you can safely remove it.”

  Sameena pulled the coat on, then watched as Jayne poked and prodded at the berries. “Not an Earth-origin fruit,” Jayne observed, thoughtfully. “The ... ah, construction is completely dissimilar to anything from Earth.”

  She looked up, suddenly. “What do they tell you about Earth on your homeworld?”

  Sameena struggled to remember the lessons Abdul had recited to her, back when she’d been younger and the world had seemed to make a little more sense. The male children had been expected to learn by rote, without actually thinking about the material; female children had been lucky if they’d had any schooling at all, beyond limited religious education.

  “Just that it turned into a nightmare and so the founders left to find a place where the religion could flourish,” she recalled. “And that we were the last bastion of Islam.”

  Jayne snickered. “I can name a dozen planets where Islam is the dominant faith,” she said, “and I’d be surprised if there weren't hundreds more. Your founders lied to you, girl.”

  Once, Sameena knew, the thought would have been inconceivable. But she’d already been questioning, even before Abdul had run into real trouble. She knew that she was smarter than her brother, certainly better suited to run the family business; why should the mere fact that she had been born female stand in her
way? And yet, she knew that she wouldn't have been allowed to take control openly. The law would side with her brother.

  “I know,” she said, quietly. “I know.”

  There was a ding from the machine. “Let’s see,” Jayne said, peering down at the screen. A moment later, she began to laugh. “Oh, this is hilarious.”

  Sameena stared at her. “What is hilarious?

  “The berries,” Jayne said. “We know what they are.”

  She straightened up. “I have to go speak to my father,” she said. “Coming?”

  Puzzled, Sameena allowed her to lead the way out of the medical compartment and through a series of corridors until they reached a single large room, dominated by a set of large computer-like machines. Two children – a boy and a girl – were sitting in front of the machines, supervised by Captain Hamilton, who was tapping away on a smaller terminal in his hands. The children turned to stare at Sameena as she entered the compartment, their eyes going wide. None of them had expected a stowaway from Jannah.

  “These machines teach the children what they need to know,” Jayne explained, briefly. “You can take the standard tests, then start developing your knowledge from there. We’ll have to open you an account with the examiners on Madagascar, at least if you want the qualifications, but you can go quite some distance without them.”

  “As long as you're careful,” Captain Hamilton said. He dismissed the kids, who took one final look at Sameena and then fled the compartment. “What did you find?”

  Jayne started to titter. “The berries she brought with her,” she said, indicating Sameena. “There’s a direct match to Firewater Mead. I checked it twice, dad. Jannah is the source of Firewater Mead.”

  Captain Hamilton stared at Sameena. “Did you know about this?”

  Sameena, puzzled, shook her head.

  “They kept her completely ignorant, dad,” Jayne said, flatly. “I would venture a guess that she knows absolutely nothing about Firewater Mead.” She looked over at Sameena. “Do you?”

  “No,” Sameena admitted.

  Captain Hamilton cleared his throat. “Firewater Mead is ... one of the most expensive drinks in the Empire,” he said. “It’s sold by a cartel based in the Core Worlds, with absolutely staggering price tags. No one knows where it comes from; as far as anyone can tell, the cartel has an absolute monopoly.”

  “Allowing them to set prices as they see fit,” Sameena said, just to prove that she wasn't a complete ignorant. Her father had ensured that she knew something about basic economics and she doubted that the laws would be any different in the Empire. “And this ... stuff comes from my planet?”

  “So it would seem,” Jayne said. “Do you know anything about the berries?”

  “They’re called Sunflower Berries,” Sameena recalled. “Other than that ... nothing.”

  The Captain scowled. “That makes a certain kind of sense,” he admitted. “Your homeworld’s leadership would not want their little secret exposed; once the galaxy knew the source, there would be hundreds of starships heading to Jannah, intent on claiming control of the berries for themselves. Selling them to the cartel would allow them to keep the trade under control, while the cartel would have its own motives to keep its collective mouth shut.”

  He started to laugh. “Used properly,” he said, “those berries you bought with you would be worth an absolute fortune.”

  “Uncle Muhammad knew,” Sameena said. She hesitated as a thought struck her. “This ... Firewater Mead, sir. Is it alcoholic?”

  “I don’t think so,” Jayne said, before her father could answer. “It’s derived from a plant that was probably native to Jannah, rather than a modified part of the standard terraforming package. But if we were to grow the berries ourselves ...”

  Pity, part of Sameena’s mind thought. The tutors regularly castigated the outside universe for being sodden with alcohol. If she’d managed to convince the world that the Guardians were selling alcohol to the off-worlders ... what would it do? It might give them some bad moments before they regained control.

  “We’d have to be very careful,” Captain Hamilton warned. “The cartel would not take it lightly if we were undermining its sales.”

  He looked over at Sameena. “It’s lucky for you that I’m honest,” he said. “As it is ... you can start using the berries soon enough, but I will expect a cut of the profits.”

  Sameena nodded. “Yes, sir,” she said.

  “We cross the phase limit in five hours,” the Captain added. “I think you’ll want to be on the bridge for that, just as I was on my first voyage. Jayne can take you to your cabin and help you get settled in. We’ll work out a duty and educational roster for you tomorrow.”

  “Put her on cooking duties,” Jayne said. She pulled a face. “I love Paddy dearly, but when I think about his cooking ...”

  “People who live in glass starships shouldn’t throw stones,” her father said. “Your cooking is no better than his.”

  Sameena looked from one to the other in stark disbelief. Paddy – the scarred man who had caught her and dragged her up to the bridge – was the cook? And not Jayne or Ethne, the Captain’s wife? Men didn't cook, not on Jannah. But she was starting to realise that the rules were different on the ship.

  “I can try,” she said, remembering all the recipes her mother had taught her. But they all depended on having the right ingredients and she had no idea if they were available in outer space. “I do know how to cook.”

  “But not on a starship,” the Captain said. “Still, you can try.”

  He looked over at his daughter. “Take her to her cabin, then sit with her for a while,” he ordered. “She will probably need company.”

  Jayne opened her mouth, as if she were going to object, then nodded brusquely and led Sameena out of the compartment and down towards a set of hatches in the bulkheads. Most of them had a name stencilled on them – one read PADDY + JAYNE – but a handful were blank. Jayne keyed a switch outside one of the blank ones and the hatch hissed open, slowly.

  “There are too many parts of this ship that are wearing out,” she said, by way of explanation. “The ship is really too big for the handful of crew we have, but dad won’t hear of exchanging her for something smaller. Nor should he, really. I was born on this ship.”

  Sameena nodded. “How did you meet Paddy?”

  “He signed on as a general crewman, with experience in engineering and helm control – and weapons,” Jayne explained. “After a few weeks, he’d proved himself and I asked him to marry me.”

  She smiled at Sameena’s disbelieving expression. “That’s quite common among the clans,” she added. “Marriage and blood ties bind us together, even when we fight – and that’s quite common too. One day, Paddy will go to another ship and I will probably go with him.”

  Sameena shook her head as she followed Jayne into the tiny cabin. It sounded absurd, yet ... her own homeworld had been a great deal worse. If she hadn't had such an understanding father, she might be married by now ... having met her husband on their wedding day. The marriage would have been arranged by both sets of parents and the bride and groom wouldn't have had any say in the matter.

  “Keep the hatch firmly closed at all times,” Jayne explained. “This is one of the sealed compartments, where you can undress – although I do recommend that you keep the suit on when you don’t specifically need to be without it. You’ll notice the telltales at the corner of the airlock” – she pointed to a glowing green light – “that confirm that it is safe to leave the compartment. If they turn red, stay inside and use the terminal to alert the rest of the crew.”

  Sameena nodded. The compartment was tiny, barely large enough for one person ... but it felt better than her bedroom on Jannah. She couldn't have said why.

  “The toilet is in the tiny section at the end of the compartment,” Jayne continued. “There’s a shower at the end of the corridor; you’re restricted to only one shower a day, unless you manage to convince someone to tr
ade with you. Water is in short supply on the ship, so learn to be quick when you shower. Luckily, we have plenty of hot air to help dry you.”

  She smiled, then pushed on. “The terminal is connected to the ship’s interior communications network and memory core,” she said. “If you want to watch a movie, listen to music or read a textbook, you can access them through the terminal. There are no restrictions on what you can see, but ... given where you’re from, you might want to give the Green-Skinned Alien Space Babes series a miss. And anything else with such a rating.”

  “I see,” Sameena said, although she didn’t. Green-skinned alien space babes? “What should I be reading now?”

  Jayne glanced at her chronometer. “Mum will probably want you to start early tomorrow,” she said, “so I’d honestly advise getting some sleep. But as we’re going to be crossing the Phase Limit and you won’t want to miss it ...”

  She picked up the terminal and tapped on it, then passed the device to Sameena. “That’s a tutoring program,” she explained. “Basically, it teaches you how to use the interface to pull information and entertainment out of the system. But it won’t take you long to pick it up.”

  She was right, Sameena decided, as she experimented with the terminal. It was quite user-friendly, even though she didn't have even the faintest idea of how the technology behind it worked. Once she mastered the basic system, she skimmed though a brief overview of the Empire’s history, looking specifically for anything on Jannah. There was almost nothing, beyond a description of the government that was clearly outdated. And a link to a controversy over the removal of the Holy City of Mecca from Earth.

  The article reminded her of something she’d been forgetting. “Which way do I pray?”

  “I have no idea,” Jayne said. She frowned. “Is it really that important to you?”