I hurried down alone into the gloom. I had never been into the Theagenes Theater entrance so it was new and adventurous for me.
First there were flights of stone steps, spiraling down ever deeper into the gloom. The walls were lit by dim bulbs, giving just enough light so that they threw enormous shadows as I descended, and these frightened me as much as anything.
The first branching was easy; the rule in the city was that no matter where you begin your descent, for the first three branchings you must always take the right-hand turn. After that I found scratches on the wall left by the workmen. They indicated to me the correct turns to take.
It was strange down there in the darkness. Of course, I had been in the tunnels many times. We used to have drills at school, and we would all go down into the defense system. By the third turning I had decided to slow down and arm myself. I found one of the arms caches, located the odd-shaped rock above it, and pressed in the way I had been taught. It opened as it was supposed to, and I took out a laser pistol.
Soon I came past the newer defenses into the cavern system. It began to disturb me that I saw no other people. There were stories about children, or even grownups, who took a wrong turning in the tunnels and ended up lost forever in the natural caverns underneath. Some said that the ghosts of dead children, who had never found their way back up to the light, still haunted this place, moving like shadows and beckoning you to follow them ever deeper, to a fiery region of sulphur pits and glowing lava.
After a while I had to pause for breath. My ankles ached from stumbling on the irregularly shaped rocks. I was a very great distance beneath the city of Panador, how far I could not tell. As I continued down, the lights became fewer in number. Some of them had burned out and had not been replaced. I began to fear I would misremember the turnings, and not find my way back. I slowed down and finally sat down to catch my breath. Reason told me I had gone far enough. Surely the Khalia would not pursue past this point. They were always in a great hurry to scoop up whatever they could find and get away before a defense could be mounted.
I was just congratulating myself on my successful descent when I heard, from above, the sound of heavy footsteps. My heart froze. It could have been one of my own people, of course, but somehow I thought not. There was something ominous about those footsteps, something military. I knew I was in trouble. I got up to run. And then the man was upon me before I could think.
He was enormous, and he wore some sort of heavy uniform which in the darkness appeared to be gray. He had a broad face with big moustaches, and he seemed to be carrying some sort of beam weapon in one big fist.
He was saying something to me, but I couldn’t tell what it was. I lifted the laser pistol and took aim, walking backward at the same time. I tripped over a rock and in the next instant he was on me, pulling the pistol out of my hand, then lifting me to my feet.
“You’re not going to take me into slavery!” I screamed at him. “I’d rather die first!”
“No need for that, miss,” he said. “Don’t you know who I am?”
Then I looked at him—really looked at him—for the first time. I saw the insignia of the Alliance on his cap and on his uniform.
“You’re from the Fleet!” I gasped.
“Indeed I am,” he said. “What on earth did you take me for?”
“I thought you were one of the Khalia,” I said, feeling very foolish indeed.
“But the Khalia are five feet tall and covered in fur,” he pointed out.
“I know that. But I got excited. You’re really from the Fleet?”
“Aye, miss. I’m advance party from the cruiser Skua. Commander Shotwell, at your service.”
“Skua? That’s Admiral Esplendadore’s flagship!” I said.
“I see you know about us,” he said, pleased.
“It’s in our history books. I thought Admiral Esplendadore must be long dead, he’s so famous, or at least very old.”
“I suppose anyone over twenty must seem old to a child like you.”
“I’m eighteen,” I said, “and why didn’t you people announce yourselves first, instead of dropping out of the blue like a Khalian raider?”
“We had to keep radio silence,” Shotwell said. “But a party of us was sent ahead to tell the people about it, so there’d be no alarm.”
“You seem to have arrived a little late for that,” I said, somewhat tartly, I fear. “What do we do now? Go on talking here in the darkness until someone finds us?”
He chuckled. “Nothing I’d like better, miss. I’m glad to see there are some attractive girls on Trinitus. They told us you were a race of pygmies and that you all had warts.”
I was just getting angry again when I noticed, even in the dim light, that he was grinning. He was quite a nice-looking man when he wasn’t trying to scare innocent people to death. He wore a Retrace on his watchband, and began to lead us back to the surface. It was just as well, I wasn’t sure of all the turnings.
On the way I learned that his first name was Milus, and that he piloted a small single-seater spaceship of his own on special missions, and had already seen action twice against the Khalia. He was from the planet Astrakhan II, was twenty-three years old, and unmarried.
It wasn’t until early the next day that the Dreadnought descended to two thousand feet above our city, established radio contact, and rather brusquely asked coordinates for a suitable place to put down. It was a spectacular sight, that great silvery machine coming down majestically through the clouds and settling down at last in the middle of Poletryer Park, a large recreation area close to the city. It landed as light as gossamer, a tribute to the skill of its pilot.
Cruisers are eight hundred feet long, displace thirty thousand tons and carry a crew of four hundred. This I had learned in elementary school. What I also knew was that never before in the history of our planet had a Fleet ship of this size come to call. I had the feeling that something gigantic might be afoot. I was glad, because I had always wanted to live in interesting times.
II.
All the notables of Panador had gathered to greet them, and they were dressed in their best official finery. Closer to the ship now, we could see that its smooth hide had been dented and scorched, then pounded and scraped into near new condition. A blue line one foot in width encircled the entire ship. Some of the more knowledgeable among us recognized this as the fighting colors of Admiral Esplendadore, “Baby Blue” Esplendadore, as he was known, one of the great fighting admirals we had read about in our history books.
Presently, after keeping us waiting for what they must have judged a sufficient length of time, a tall portal opened in the side of the ship. A landing stage carpeted in light blue velvet came down with it. Out marched the ship’s band, resplendent in turquoise and scarlet with tall black shakos on their heads. After that came the guard of honor, a hundred heavily armed marines. Then a procession of secondary officers and finally Esplendadore himself in a glittering silver uniform decorated with exotic, iridescent feathers and beadwork. A barbaric sight, but these were, of course, the emissaries of civilization.
Speaking through the ship’s PA system, which was far more powerful than anything we had on the planet, Esplendadore said, “Good people of Trinitus, forgive us for coming on you unannounced. We did not mean to startle you; but it was judged best to put forth no radio communication. There are spies everywhere.”
Esplendadore had a heavy, pompous, self-pleased voice which I disliked at once. Maybe he was one of the great admirals, but I thought he was stuck-up. But what he was saying was of the utmost interest, so I listened carefully.
“Six months, ago,” Esplendadore continued, “advance scouts from the Fleet discovered a planet far from the usual areas. This planet was a small oxygen world and it was uninhabited. It was a poor little place without much in the way of natural resources.
“This planet, circling i
ts small red dwarf star, had one feature, however, that interested us extremely. It was close to a star system from which most Khalian raids emanated.
“Therefore, this deserted planet, which has been named Klaxon, becomes of extreme interest to us as a site for a base from which we can launch a major attack against the Khalia. Our engineers have calculated that in less than one year, we can, by mounting an all-out effort, put up a major base on this location. This will be needed for the large re-supply program which is planned. Klaxon will be a major factor in what we expect will be a major surprise blow against the Khalia.
“We have come here, as we have stopped at other worlds, to ask for skilled volunteers to come to Klaxon with us and help us build this new base. Many skilled categories will be open. We are offering standard one-year contracts in which workers will be paid at a level equivalent to Guild Workers from Earth. And, if you choose to stay on beyond the first year, you will be assigned permanent positions with pensions, medical benefits and vacation leaves in the Fleet Civilian Personnel Division.
“I needn’t tell you what a great opportunity this is for some of you. You are provincials, and you live very far away from the First Thirteen. In the normal course of things, most of you would never get the opportunity to leave your home planet. What we are offering is a chance not only to do well-paid labor for the benefit of mankind, but also to have a chance to open yourself to a wider life traveling around the galaxy.
“My men will be setting up recruiting booths around this park. If you wish to apply, you must present two certificates, one from the police department showing that there are no crimes currently lodged against you, and one from the tax authorities showing your taxes are paid to date. In the case of exceptionally desirable categories, the Fleet will waive some of its requirements.
“Our ship will leave here again in exactly three local days. Those of you who are accepted, please be prepared to assemble here three days from now for embarkation.
“Good people, I thank you for your attention.”
Already, as the Admiral was ending his speech, I was making my way to the outskirts of the crowd. I wanted to get home as quickly as possible in order to get my parents’ permission. Legally, I didn’t need it, of course, because I was of age, but I knew it would please them if I asked and it might be the last nice thing I ever could do for them, because I was going to join the Fleet and travel to distant planets.
My father was very nice about it. He had always dreamed of being a deep-space trader until the carboats shut down in our sector of space for lack of paying markets. He was small and olive-skinned, as I am, and I had inherited his sleek black hair, quick movements and small features. My mother was short and fair and large-boned, sweet-natured and thoughtful. I don’t think I inherited anything from her except the dubious family gift of second-sight. And it was to this that she referred when she tried to get me to change my mind.
“Lea, dear,” she said, “you realize that your second-sight renders you more delicate than most. The aura of this new planet might not agree with you.”
“Oh, Mother, come on,” I said, somewhat childishly, but that’s the effect she has on me.
“But of course, it’s entirely your decision, my dear.”
“I’ll be all right,” I told her. “The second-sight only comes upon me occasionally. It’s no worse than a headache and it passes in a few hours. And anyway, maybe it will make me better suited for this sort of work than people who can’t glimpse anything ahead.”
Because I was able to do that sometimes; smell out danger when it lay ahead. I never knew specifically what it was, only that something was wrong and something was impending.
“Anyhow, Dr. Bokson said I’d outgrow it. I really do want to go. Is it all right?”
They looked at each other, and then smiled and we all hugged each other. It takes good parents to love you when you’re leaving.
I hurried back to Poletryer Park. Quite a few people were already lined up at the recruitment booths. I looked around for Milus Shotwell, but didn’t see him anywhere. Finally I found a short line and soon I was facing the recruiter.
He was a big, burly man resplendent in a tight-fitting uniform of forest green with stainless steel buttons. “Well, miss,” he said, looking over my papers, “I guess you’re not old enough to have gotten into much trouble yet, eh?”
“I’m old enough to work for the Fleet,” I said. “It’s true that I haven’t learned a whole lot of things yet, but I can type, and I can enter data, and I was pretty good in all my subjects in school.”
“We’re not looking so much for specific skills as for abilities and propensities,” he said. “Here, put your hand down here. We’ll give you a little intelligence test.”
He indicated a small black machine with blinking red lights that sat on the table beside him. There was a shiny silver plate where I was to put my hand. I did as he wished.
“This is a funny sort of intelligence test,” I said. “Don’t you ask any questions?”
He chuckled. “We’re not looking to find out what you’ve learned in school, miss, or even how glibly you can reel off your homework. This machine gives us a readout on your neural functioning. Look here on the screen.”
I looked and saw what looked like a shifting web of closely spaced, interlocking lines.
“What you’re seeing is an analog of neural activity,” he told me. “This just shows us what your intelligence is physically capable of. The more finely spaced the lines, the more complete is the ability to hold complex mental structures in mind. That’s the sort of intelligence we are looking for.”
“Well, how did I do’?” I asked.
He laughed again. “You have a fine mind, miss. We are happy to accept you. I don’t know what you’ll do yet, but it’ll be something better than washing dishes.”
He looked at my papers again. “I see here that you have positive reading on the latent psi scale.”
“Oh, yes,” I said. “It’s what my family calls the second-sight, but it doesn’t really get in the way.”
“I wasn’t implying that it does,” he said. “Psi ability is one of the things the Fleet keeps its eye on. Quite a few Espers already work in Communications. Sign here and here. Initial here and here. This is the Standard Waiver, sign here. Here is the Pledge of Obedience to the Fleet. Please sign here.”
He put the papers away and shook my hand in a formal manner. “Welcome aboard,” he said. “You are now Civilian Fleet Personnel. Now go say your good-byes. We leave in precisely two and one-half days at 02400 hours.”
III.
I had imagined that I would be able to observe the Fleet cruiser take off, and watch Trinitus dwindle behind us. In this I had been naive. We did see the takeoff, but only through the overhead television monitors as we lay on our acceleration couches.
It was a noble sight, all the same, even given the interference on the television. We watched as Trinitus dwindled to a pea-point in the glowing screens, and then to a single point of light, and then disappeared entirely. Then Admiral Esplendadore had us stand by as he switched to FTL drive. I’m pleased to say that I was not sick to my stomach. So many novices are the first time they are exposed to Faster-Than-Light drive. Our television set blanked out as we entered FTL.
I had no time to marvel at this, however. The Fleet loudspeakers announced indoctrination lectures for the first group of recruits. And now there began a round of lectures, tests and interviews, which was to last for the next six standard days.
Most of the men who joined up were wanted for various jobs on the construction crews. The Fleet is an old hand at managing personnel, and they tried, whenever possible, to give us jobs which would suit our tastes and abilities. Since we were one of the early planetary levies, others to follow weeks or months later, there were many more jobs than there were personnel to perform them. There was even, strange as it may see
m, competition among section and project leaders, to try and recruit new people to their specialties.
The Fleet could have settled any disputes that arose over this because they had every job prioritized and ranked. But they also liked to allow a certain amount of individual initiative among section chiefs. This is, after all, one of the things we were fighting for, and it gave us recruits a measure of choice as to which branches of the services we would go to.
And there was also this to consider: the branch of service that we joined would have a direct effect upon our ability to progress in rank in the Fleet, assuming we made the decision to stay on after our year contract. Some services were looked upon with more favor in the Fleet than others.
The first time I saw Allan Bantry was at the welcome ceremony for new Fleet personnel. It’s quite an important occasion, and everyone wears their best. It’s the time when you get together with the people you’re going to share the station with, the people who are going to help you in the struggle against the Khalia. You’re maybe a little anxious to make a good impression. Allan Bantry chose that occasion to wear his tharg suit.
To say the least, he stood out.
“Who is that fellow?” I asked Milus Shotwell.
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