The Empire's Corps: Book 05 - The Outcast

by Christopher Nuttall

  “Thank you,” Sameena said, sincerely. The Professor might have watched her like a hawk as she struggled to answer some of the more complex questions, but he also treated her as a genuine student, not a girl pretending to be a boy. Or one who was overstepping her place. “I won’t look at it myself.”

  The Professor smiled, slightly. “Asking someone else to look at it and tell you the answers is also considered cheating,” he said. “But your guardian has done a good job in the past.”

  Looking after Richard and Regina, Sameena guessed. But then, all of the Captain’s children had been homeschooled, rather than exposed to the tender mercies of the Imperial Education Service. From what she’d heard, the IES was even less inclined to actually teach than the clerics on Jannah.

  “I’ll see you when you next return to Madagascar,” the Professor concluded. “Send in the next person on your way out.”

  Sameena nodded and exited the examination room through an airlock that looked reassuringly solid. Orbit Three was honeycombed with airlocks and other emergency measures, ensuring that a disaster wouldn't kill everyone onboard. Steve had pointed out, rather darkly, that a single nuke could shatter the entire asteroid, then assigned her an essay on how Orbit One was poorly designed. It had taken her several hours to work out that the asteroid’s life support systems were actually several separate systems jammed together.

  Outside, there were a handful of other students – and Jayne. Sameena glanced at the students, feeling an odd sense of relief that some of them were older than her, then looked over at the ship’s doctor. Jayne stood up, hooked her arm through Sameena’s arm and then led her out of the compartment. It was quieter in this part of the asteroid, but Sameena could still hear the sound of people talking echoing through the corridors.

  “Mum says that I am to take you clothes shopping,” Jayne said, before Sameena could say a word. “And then take a look at whatever else you might want in the stalls.”

  Sameena hesitated. “I don’t know how long my cash will last ...”

  Jayne snorted and passed her a Credit Coin. “You were paid standard wages for a very junior crewwoman,” she said. “Didn’t dad tell you?”

  “No,” Sameena said, looking down at the Credit Coin. It proclaimed her to have a balance of four thousand credits. “I didn't know ...”

  “He probably assumed that you knew,” Jayne said, crossly. “There are centuries of tradition that state that a ship’s commander is not allowed to advise his crew about how to spend or save their money. For example, you could take out insurance if you wanted – or save the money in the local bank, or spend it on just about anything. Teaching the kids is one thing, but pushing an adult ...”

  She shook her head. “I’ll ask mum to go over that with you later,” she added. She shot Sameena an inquisitive look. “I wonder how much else we take for granted that will be new and strange to you.”

  “This asteroid,” Sameena said. There were times when she realised just how alien the whole environment was, at least to someone who had spent their whole lifetime on a planet’s surface. “And much else, I’m sure.”

  “Don’t be afraid to ask,” Jayne said. “There’s a healthy tradition of self-reliance too, but you don’t have to be stupid about it.”

  Sameena mulled it over as she followed the doctor down the corridor and into one of the larger marketplaces. The noise grew louder the moment they stepped through the airlock; she looked towards the source and saw a handful of men playing instruments in one corner, producing a deafening racket. It sounded like one of the songs the kids listened to when they were off duty. Sameena had listened once and decided that she didn't like it.

  “One of the touring bands,” Jayne muttered, by way of explanation. “It’s pretty hard for anyone to get famous away from their homeworld, unless they travel so often that they can outrun the bootleggers. Someone probably called in a favour and arranged for them to play for the Imperial Navy ships in the system.”

  She led Sameena away from the band and down towards a large stall, covered in fancy silk that provided some privacy. Inside, there seemed to be endless racks of clothes, ranging from basic tunics and dresses to underwear that made Sameena blush. An overweight woman, standing at the entrance, nodded to them both as they entered, then studied Sameena with frank interest.

  “My sister needs a new outfit or two,” Jayne said, shortly. “Some basic stuff for onboard wear, a couple of fancy dresses and suchlike. What do you have that might suit her?”

  The woman smiled. “I’ll have to measure her first,” she said. “And then we can see what we have.”

  “Take a note of your measurements,” Jayne ordered, as the woman started to measure Sameena’s body. “We can save some time if we have to go elsewhere.”

  Sameena had never been very fond of clothes shopping, even though it had been one of the few legitimate excuses for young girls to be out of the house. She had known that no one was likely to see her in anything new, apart from her family – and her husband, when she was finally pushed into marriage. Now ... part of her was intrigued by the possibility of new clothes. Others would be seeing her in them for the first time.

  “You don’t want anything too complex for onboard wear,” Jayne said. She held up a loose tunic that could be worn over the shipsuit. “This wouldn't be too bad, as long as you wore a utility belt with it so you could carry your tools and terminal.”

  Sameena nodded, reluctantly. It would make a change from wearing the coat over the shipsuit, without showing off too much of her body. On the other hand, it didn't look very new.

  “They never do,” Jayne said. She grinned. “Everyone wears shabby clothes onboard ship, apart from dad. He thinks he has to look dignified.”

  “A regular delusion,” the storekeeper said. “Get undressed and try the outfit on.”

  “No,” Sameena said, quickly. “I can’t ...”

  Jayne pulled the woman aside and whispered briefly in her ear. Sameena couldn't hear what she said to her, but the woman nodded, threw her a sympathetic look and then pulled the curtain over the entrance. No one could see inside without making it obvious.

  “Better do it now,” Jayne said. “You won’t be able to come back if they don’t fit.”

  Sameena hesitated, then undressed slowly. The woman’s gaze was cold and clinical, but Sameena still felt uncomfortable as she pulled on the outfit. When she was dressed, she looked in the mirror. She had to admit that it was suitable for wearing on a daily basis.

  “We’ll take it,” Jayne said, as Sameena undressed again. “And now for something fancier.”

  The woman held up a pair of shorts and a halter top, like the one Jayne wore. Sameena took one look and shook her head, firmly. Her breasts might not be anything like as big as Jayne’s, but she would still be showing them off if she wore the top. And most of her legs ...

  “You do have nice legs,” Jayne said, deadpan. “It would be a shame not to show them off.”

  Sameena felt her face redden. “I don't want to be so ... immodest,” she admitted, shaking her head. “I couldn't walk around like you.”

  Jayne snorted with honest amusement. “You’re naked under the clothes,” she pointed out, snidely.

  Sameena rolled her eyes, recognising the terrible joke. “I couldn't be like that,” she said. “I just ... can’t.”

  All of her life, she had been taught that a woman was meant to cover everything, but her face and hands in the presence of unrelated men. Some households on Jannah had even insisted that their womenfolk be covered completely, leaving them hidden behind layers of all-enveloping cloth. Now, having been exposed to a society that thought nothing of women – or men – walking around naked, she still couldn't do it for herself. It left her feeling far too vulnerable.

  “Try this,” the storekeeper suggested, holding up a long red dress. “I may have to take the hem in for you, but it should be modest.”

  Sameena pulled the dress over her head and then peered into the m
irror. It was tighter than she wanted around her waist, but otherwise suitable. Her breasts were faintly outlined without being so clear that she might as well be naked. She brushed a hand through her hair and smiled at her reflection.

  “Suits you,” Jayne said, after a moment’s contemplation. “I dare say that Brad will like it too.”

  The storekeeper smiled. “Is there a young man in your future? You’ll need some proper underwear for him ...”

  Sameena cringed.

  “Perhaps,” Jayne said, quickly. “But we’re not here for special underwear or anything else, apart from a couple of outfits.”

  “Shame,” the storekeeper said. “I have a special offer on underwear that slowly becomes translucent as you become excited and ...”

  She pulled another dress off the rack and passed it to Sameena, who tried it on. It was green, but otherwise identical to the first dress. A third dress proved to be a little tighter than she would have preferred, yet when she looked in the mirror she was tempted to keep it. The fourth dress seemed to be almost transparent, revealing far too much ...

  “You need black underwear for that dress,” Jayne said. “But it does make you look great.”

  Sameena shrugged as she pulled it off. “We’ll take the others,” she said, firmly. “But that one is too revealing.”

  Jayne nodded and picked up a selection of basic underwear. “Take this too,” she said, seriously. “Even with the shipsuit, it can be good to have it too.”

  The storekeeper totted up the bill while Sameena pulled her original clothes back on. “Five hundred credits, the lot,” the storekeeper said, finally. “Plus fifty credits for minor modifications.”

  Sameena scowled. That was a sizable percentage of her wages.

  “Bargain,” Jayne hissed.

  “One hundred credits,” Sameena said, wishing that she knew more about the specifics of clothing prices. Maybe they should have looked in the other stalls before buying. “And ten for modifications.”

  “The modifications are a flat rate,” the storekeeper said. “But I can offer you three hundred credits for the clothes.”

  Sameena had watched her father bargaining with his customers. A sudden drop in price suggested that the cost had been inflated, she remembered. Two hundred credits was hardly a small amount. But had it reached the limits of what the storekeeper could reasonably give her or was she still trying to gouge out a additional profit?

  “Two hundred credits for the clothes,” she said, finally. She tried to read the storekeeper’s face, but it seemed completely expressionless. “And you can have the fifty for the modifications.”

  “Done,” the storekeeper said.

  Sameena looked at Jayne, unable to escape the feeling that she was still paying more than she should, even after stripping out three hundred credits from the final bill. Jayne shrugged, then nodded. Sameena took out her new Credit Coin and gave it to the storekeeper, who pushed it against her own coin. There was a moment’s pause and then she passed the conjoined coins back to Sameena.

  “Push your finger against the reader,” Jayne explained. “Then verify the amount and then let it scan your finger again.”

  There was a bleep as it processed the transaction. “I’ll have the clothes ready for you to pick up this afternoon,” the storekeeper said, as she passed Sameena a receipt. “If you need them repaired in future, I do a discount rate if you purchase something else from my stall.”

  “Thank you,” Jayne said.

  Sameena looked up at her as they walked away. “How did I do?”

  “You didn't get bilked too badly,” Jayne said, after a moment. “Two hundred and fifty credits gives her some profit, so she’s happy, without overcharging you too badly.”

  “Thank you,” Sameena said. She frowned, then asked the question that had been bothering her for some time. “Why does everyone assume that I am going to marry Brad?”

  “You did offer to marry him,” Jayne reminded her. “It is tradition for someone who wants to join the crew permanently to marry into it, if they don’t already have blood ties. That’s how Paddy joined us.”

  Sameena hesitated, unsure of what to say. Back home, she would have been pushed into marriage eventually ... and she would have been lucky if she’d been allowed to meet the groom before their wedding day. But onboard ship ... in truth, she liked Brad, but she didn't want to marry him. Or to commit herself to anyone.

  Jayne seemed to sense her confusion. “Listen,” she said, placing a hand on Sameena’s shoulder, “you don’t have to marry him – you can marry Steve instead.”

  It took Sameena a moment to realise that Jayne was teasing her. Steve was closer to her age than Brad, but he seemed to be wedded to his engines. Indeed, while she’d seen Brad staring at her when he thought she wasn't looking, Steve had shown little interest in her as a woman at all. Did he have someone on another ship, waiting for him?

  “More seriously,” Jayne continued, “if you don’t want to marry or date anyone, you don’t have to. If Brad ever works up the nerve to ask you out, just say no. Mum will kill him if he makes unwanted advances.”

  She hesitated. For a moment, she almost looked embarrassed. “You don’t know anything about biology,” she added. “I think you should look it up before doing anything with anyone.”

  Sameena felt herself flushing. One of the movie files she’d accessed on Logan had shown a man and a woman having sex. She’d stared in horror, then deactivated the terminal, despite the strange temptation to keep watching. Later, she’d worked out which entertainment files were pornography and gave them a wide berth.

  They stopped in a small cafe to have lunch – as she’d been told, the food on the asteroid was considerably better than the food on the freighter – and then wandered through the marketplace, looking for anything interesting. Jayne seemed to take an unholy delight in pointing out anything that Sameena might find shocking, including a brothel and a stall that sold sex drugs and toys. Sameena hadn't wanted to know that drugs to improve male potency were cheap and easy to produce, or that she could buy a toy shaped like a penis and use it to give herself pleasure. Or, for that matter, that a simple implant could give her a jolt of pleasure every time she pushed a button.

  “People can get addicted to that,” Jayne said, darkly. “It doesn't do any physical harm, unlike some of the other drugs, but it creates a psychological dependency that can be completely destructive. I’ve known people to waste away, begging for enough money to buy themselves another boost.”

  Sameena frowned. “Why isn't it banned?”

  “Most of the people out here on the Rim don’t give two shits about what the Grand Senate thinks,” Jayne admitted. “They don’t know what it’s like to be living out here. If someone wants to jolt themselves into a stupor ... no one will care as long as no one else is hurt.”

  She shook her head. “But it is a waste of life,” she added. “Once addicted, they are unable to break free without outside help.”

  They reached a stall heaving under the weight of hundreds of paperback books. Sameena found herself smiling as she picked up a book with a lurid cover, remembering the feel of the books in her father’s study. The cover showed a man carrying a gun, with a naked woman clinging to his legs, while giant spacecraft flew overhead. Judging by the comment on the front cover, the publisher thought that it was great literature.

  “Books are quite expensive out here,” Jayne explained. “Normally, everyone reads from their terminals, rather than buying a book. Data files are cheap.”

  Sameena nodded, then looked for something she could stand to read.

  She was still looking when Jayne’s wristcom buzzed. “Jayne,” Ethne said, “escort Sameena to the negotiation block. I have someone I want her to meet.”

  “Understood,” Jayne said. She closed the channel and looked over at Sameena. “Don’t get too excited, but it sounds as if my mother has found us work.”

  Chapter Nine

  However, such a system is inhe
rently limited. The cobbler might not be able to convince the butcher that the butcher needs a pair of shoes, ensuring that the cobbler cannot obtain any meat. With only one thing to trade, his ability to obtain products from others is limited. He might be able to convince the blacksmith to serve as a third party – shoes to the blacksmith, knives to the butcher, meat to the blacksmith and then to the cobbler – but the system would become very clunky. A new means of exchange is required.

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

  The negotiation block proved to be a tiny handful of offices buried deep within the asteroid where – according to Jayne – freighter commanders and those who wanted to make use of their services could meet in conditions of strict neutrality. It was guarded by five oversized men – heavy-worlders, Jayne explained – who checked Sameena’s ID before allowing her to enter. Jayne waved her goodbye, then headed back to the marketplace. She’d already promised to pick up Sameena’s new clothes.

  Inside, Ethne was standing next to a young man wearing the Imperial Navy’s black uniform. He was a Lieutenant, Sameena realised – Paddy had made her memorise the different ways to tell a person’s rank – but he seemed far too young, as if he were dressing up in his father’s uniform. But the existence of rejuvenation treatments ensured that he might easily be twice Sameena’s age and look younger. Indeed, apart from the blonde hair and pale skin, he reminded her of Abdul when he’d been fourteen years old.

  “Sameena,” Ethne said, beckoning her over. “This is Lieutenant James Cook ...”

  “Jamie, please,” Cook said. His voice was softer than Sameena had expected, as if he were truly fourteen years old. He nodded to her instead of offering to shake hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet someone new.”