"Does that mean we're going to do it?" She asked.
"I'd like to. Wouldn't you, Lexi? I do love you…" Jack said.
"They want us to have kids, too. They gave me pills to take to reverse the injection."
"Kids?" He looked deep into her eyes. "I've never thought about kids…"
"Come on, Jack. I love kids. Kids would be so much fun…"
"Ok, Ok, you win. I'll go find Wilson today and talk to him."
Jack went to the Fleet headquarters and found Wilson's office. His hair was easily 4cm long. Wilson handed him a printout before he could speak. It had a date and time on it, about two weeks away. Wilson said, "There's your test date. Don't fail. The higher-ups will be watching."
Jack took the paper. "Thank you, sir."
Jack didn't make to leave, and Wilson asked, "Was there something else?"
"Sir, Lexi and I would like to marry, sir."
"Hot damn! I'll file the paperwork. Set a date."
Jack smiled wide. He didn't know why he felt so strongly that he needed Wilson's approval, but it was important to him.
"Don't fail the test, dismissed," Wilson said.
Two weeks to wait, but Jack didn't mind the waiting. He ran with the other potentials, sparred with a few of them. He beat them, and he acquired quite a reputation among the potentials as the best. Jack coached the others. Most of them still played the martial arts Bot in the teens levels. Jack had beaten all its levels. The worst part about the wait was they kept Lexi in one tent and Jack in another. Lexi kept trying to convince him that they could sneak off into some nearby woods, but he was chicken.
The date of the test finally reared its ugly head. Jack and the other hopefuls did the calisthenics first, then the run. Two potentials got weeded out. They lined up alphabetically for the martial arts competition. There would be three instructors who took turns sparring and refereeing. As most everything in Fleet, digital cameras filmed the event. A few spectators attended: Lexi and Wilson among them. Jack counted out which instructor he'd get by counting down the line of people in front of him.
The first match the instructor cut down the recruit in a blinding haze of attacks. The second match the instructor took his time defeating the recruit. The third match the instructor let the recruit win, and the instructor must have been pleased with the recruit's showing. The fourth match ended quickly, again with the recruit's quick defeat. Jack counted again down the line, and he would face that instructor. Recruits fought on, some passed and some failed. None made it past the instructor Jack would face.
A bit of a slow burning coal fire started in his heart, warming up his insides. He didn't think the instructor gave the recruits a fair chance. Finally Jack's turn came. He stepped onto the mat and bowed to the instructor. The instructor hardly nodded his head. He was bald all over, like he clean shaved this morning. He had big ears, not like clown ears, but bigger than normal.
The instructor approached Jack with some speed, throwing a kick at Jack's face. Jack blocked it and then struck with both fists at once, one aiming for the instructor's face one for his stomach. The instructor blocked both of them. Jack did a spinning back fist at the instructor's face catching him on the jaw line. Jack didn't intend to lose. One of the referees called out, "Point, Recruit!"
The instructor shook off the blow and advanced on Jack again, throwing punch after punch at him. Jack blocked them, watching for an opening, and the instructor pushed Jack towards the edge of the mat. He'd lose a point if he went over the line. Instead he grabbed the instructor's arm and threw with all his high-gravity strength towards the edge of the mat. The instructor stumbled and went over the line. The referee called out, "Point, Recruit!"
The instructor's face flushed beet red. He advanced on Jack with kicks, so fast that Jack could only block them over and over. After what seemed like forever, Jack saw an opening and kicked the instructor in the ribs with a roundhouse kick. The referee called out, "Point! Recruit! Match!"
The instructor, however, said, "No, I call 15 minute endurance match."
The younger referee asked, "Can he do that?"
"Yeah, it's a very old rule," the other referee said. "Don't even know if it's still on the books, but it's been done before."
The younger referee said, "We'll allow it."
Jack had already been moving towards the edge of the mat, and he turned to face the instructor, and he was midair aiming a kick at Jack's face. He moved to duck under it, and the instructor never finished the kick. With his other leg, he struck at Jack's knee causing it to buckle under, and Jack fell to the ground, with pain shooting through his leg. Neither referee called out point. Jack curled into a fetal position on the mat, holding both hands to his crippled knee. His eyes started to water from the pain. The instructor Jack fought said, "Give him the count."
The younger referee started counting, "1.. 2.. 3.."
Jack knew in his mind he had to get up off the mat and fight. He started to see white flashes. Blast rifle sights burned in his retinas, like what he saw in the battle for Artemis. Adrenalin coursed through his veins uncalled upon. He rolled onto his stomach, put his hands on the mat and pushed himself up. He held his crippled leg off to the side and started bouncing just a little on his good leg. He looked at the instructor he faced, and the bastard smiled at Jack.
The instructor advanced on Jack throwing a punch. Jack blocked the punch with his left and reached inside the instructor's guard with his right, grabbing his throat and lifting the man off the ground. He started punching the man's stomach and ribs with his left hand. The man had both of his hands on Jack's right hand trying to get it off of him. Jack dropped him then grabbed the man's chest and head butted his nose, blood flowed.
Neither referee called out points--the brutality of the match had them dumbstruck.
After the head butt Jack proceeded to pummel the instructor savagely, left, right and then left again. The man fell to the mat. Instead of just letting him lie there and the referee start to count, Jack put his good leg on the man's head and grabbed his nearest arm. As if Jack intended to break his neck. Wilson's shouting stopped him, "Grean! Release that man at once!"
Jack paused and then let the man's arm go. He got to his feet to face Wilson.
"Sorry, sir!" Jack said.
Wilson looked like he would burst at the seams. His blood pumped in the scars on his hand. He stood there with clenched fists and red face. "Grean, go to the medical building. Report to Doctor Michaels."
"Yes, sir. Can I call for a med-evac cause of my knee?"
"HOBBLE!" Wilson shouted.
Jack sighed. "Yes, sir."
* * *
So Jack hobbled to the medical building. He mostly hopped. He went into the emergency entrance and asked a nurse, "I'm supposed to report to Doctor Michaels."
"Then you should have gone to the main entrance," the nurse said. "Doctor Michaels is on the third floor, west wing, go right down this hallway then take a left, and the elevators are on the left."
Jack followed the directions to the elevator and then to the west wing. He knocked on the door. Doctor Michaels expected him having received an email from Wilson and watched the video of the fight a few times. The door opened on its own and somebody said, "Come in, Jack. Have a seat on one of those stools."
Jack noticed a couch that looked very comfortable, and four stools in front of a desk. A man of fifty or so years and all gray hair and glasses sat behind the desk. Jack sat on one of the stools.
"I'm Doctor Michaels. Are you in any pain?" He wore a white overcoat with spectacles on his eyes. They were wire rimmed with gold plating, but the gold was fading in some places. In this day and age, most people opted for surgery over glasses. The doctor had no less than four real pens or mechanical pencils in his breast pocket.
"Yes, sir, my leg's hurt," Jack said.
Doctor Michaels turned his back to Jack and filled a glass from a dispenser of some kind and pushed a button, a small packet popped out of a slot. He took the
packet and held it out to Jack. Two pills fell out into his palm. Doctor Michaels handed the glass of what Jack assumed would be water to Jack and said, "Take the pills. Drink all the water."
Jack swallowed the pills and drank about half the water. It tasted salty. Doctor Michaels said, "Finish the water. It has the painkiller in it."
Jack finished the water and wondered what the white pills did. "What are the pills for?"
"Just something to help you relax. Do you know why you've been sent to meet with me, Jack? Do you prefer Mr. Grean?"
"My preference is Private Grean, sir."
"You're not a Private in my office. You lose your rank when you're under the care of a psychiatrist."
Jack took a closer look at all the certificates on the walls. School of Psychology was printed in dried blood on some of them. Ok, it wasn't dried blood. He asked, "A psychiatrist?"
"Are you still in any pain? The painkiller I gave you acts very quickly."
"Yes, my leg still hurts."
Doctor Michaels turned and filled up another glass for him and produced another packet of the small white pills. "Take the pills and drink all of the water. Let me explain my purpose in Fleet. I'm a section six psychiatrist, and I evaluate personnel that Fleet isn't sure whether we can use or not. If you were seeing a section eight psychiatrist, it would be because it seemed to you that you weren't a good match with Fleet. If you wanted out, you'd be talking to somebody else. Seeing me means Fleet might not want you."
Jack's leg didn't hurt anymore, and a haze started to creep in around his eyes, on the edges of his vision. He slurred his speech. "I want to be in Fleet, sir…"
"Yes, I'm sure you do. The pain in your leg is gone? It was a dirty move that instructor did, wasn't it?"
"He wasn't fair to the recruits… He flunked legitimate fighters…"
For Jack, the room started to spin, slowly ever so slowly. The haze around his eyes made him blink and blink.
"The pain, is the pain in your leg gone?" Michaels asked.
Jack said, "Yes…" and collapsed from the stool to the floor.
Doctor Michaels got up from behind his desk and walked to the door. "John, will you give me a hand with this one?"
John said, "Sure, Doc."
Michaels grabbed Jack's arms, and John grabbed his legs.
"He's a heavy one," John said. "How many Truth-Sayers did you give him?"
Michaels said, "Four."
"What'd he do?"
"He had to be stopped from killing a superior officer."
"Isn't that an automatic discharge?"
"Yeah, but the higher-ups want to keep this one. He's a high-gravity native."
They had gotten Jack to the couch by then, and Doctor Michaels ushered John out the door. The doctor took up an old fashioned notepad and pen and moved a chair to the couch. "Now, Jack, we're going to have a little talk about what happened today, and you're going to tell me everything."
Jack didn't even open his eyes, but he spoke clearly, "Yes, sir."
Chapter 8
AD 2130
Lost in Space…
The two Horsemen at the Lithorian homeworld knew one basic mission, survival. It would be months before more fuel and food arrived. They used every possible space on board the ships for hydroponics. They conserved what little fuel they had and started the long process of growing food. They even built green houses on one of the moons.
The designers almost planned for the contingency including a small manufacturing plant within the Horsemen's bowels which they used to build a small fuel refinery rig on the same moon with the greenhouses. It didn't produce much fuel, but the production kept the lights and hydroponics running on the ships. It meant that if any Lithorians came back for revenge they'd be able to fight. The Humans knew about fourteen Lithorian planets that broadcast on FTL. The Lithorian fleets could be picked up on FTL broadcasts from time to time; they seemed to be regrouping, where, the Humans didn't know.
* * *
Steve Creech grew bored on The Nighthawk. The other members of the crew were conditioned to live in such close quarters. Creech traveled with a fighter carrier before and enjoyed simple things like a gym. He did spend a great deal of his free time in their combat simulators learning to fly a Frigate and handle its weapons systems.
It took some time and effort but he convinced one of the female crewmembers to share his bed for the trip. They reached Orion roughly the same time the refugee ships from Artemis and other worlds arrived.
Chapter 9
A.D. 2090
The Human empire expands…
Fleet continued its mission of exploration. Most governments on Earth built starships as well. They named the first planet with life Orion, and over two thousand dedicated scientists studied it. With plants and animals similar in makeup to Earth species and untouched mineral reserves, the Humans wanted it. They studied it for two years before declaring it fit for colonization. They established their own governing body for it, called the commonwealth. Fleet discovered other planets that teemed with life. More and more scientists studied each planet they found.
Hans Goldberg finished his doctoral degree in applied physics. He received a constant flood of job offers. Finally Fleet and G.E.S.C. decided they must have him on their team.
Fleischman called him, "Doctor Goldberg, you need to work for G.E.S.C. We need someone to develop FTL communications, and I bet you're just the one for the job."
Hans laughed--he'd published two papers on FTL communications, both asking more questions than they answered. "I do have a theory on FTL communications. What's it worth to you, Peter?"
"Hans, we'll pay you double what our top scientist makes plus a generous stock option."
"I need a hard figure. FTL communications should be worth millions to the right party. The Chinese have offered me quite a tidy sum for it, but they don't want to share after it's developed."
"We're a non-profit organization, and we serve mankind."
"Twenty million, Peter, that's what I want."
Fleischman didn't say anything for a few moments. "I'll have to check with the board of directors for that kind of payment. How solid is your theory?"
"I don't expect to get paid unless my devices work."
Doctor Fleischman met with the board of directors that afternoon, and they agreed to pay the price for FTL communications. Hans relocated to America and started working on the designs. Within three months they had a prototype which broadcast in all directions simultaneously on a subspace band, it flashed across the heavens in an instant.
Chapter 10
AD 2131
Jack prepares for war…
Somebody said, "Wake up, Jack."
He opened his eyes and looked around. He sat up on the couch and asked, "How long have I been asleep?"
"Six hours," Doctor Michaels answered. "How's your knee?"
It didn't hurt. He looked down at it and saw a mechanical brace. "It doesn't hurt."
"It was dislocated. Take it easy for about two weeks or so and take these green pills twice a day until they're all gone." Doctor Michaels set a bottle of pills on the edge of the desk.
Jack's curiosity got the better of him. "Doctor, am I in Fleet? Did I make it?"
Doctor Michaels didn't look up from his computer screen. "How badly do you want to be in Fleet, Jack?"
"I'd give anything…"
"Even Lexi, would you give up Lexi to be in Fleet?"
"That's not a fair question," Jack said. "Why would I have to give up Lexi to stay in Fleet?"
"If you lose your temper like you did today, around her, you'll likely lose her. You understand that, don't you?"
"I could never lose my temper with Lexi…"
"I hope not, Private. She's waiting for you down the hall. Enjoy the graduation party."
Jack stood up and felt no pain. Thinking to himself, they did good work on his knee. He grabbed the bottle of green pills and left Doctor Michaels' office. He turned to the right after leavi
ng the room. He saw Lexi and almost didn't recognize her at first. She wore a black evening gown, and black high heeled shoes, with her hair up in a bow, ruby red lipstick on and green eye-shadow to match her eyes. Jack stared in awe. She wore a pearl necklace. She looked more beautiful than ever. As he walked towards her, she stood up, and the gown showed off all her curves. Jack smiled. She gave him a hug and a kiss when he got to her. She asked, "How's the knee?"
"It's all better… Where did you get those clothes?"
"A lady in my tent heard that I would be going to the party tonight and lent them to me. She also helped me with the makeup. I look alright don't I?"
"You look great…" Jack said.
"Well, I wanted to look good picking you up from the hospital," Lexi said. "A Fleet wife has certain expectations of her, or so I'm told."
Jack just smiled as they got in the elevator. Lexi continued, "Captain Wilson stopped by the tent and told me the good news that you graduated. He also gave me the key to our house and gave me your bank card. Apparently you get back pay from the six-months we spent on the trip here. I think Wilson thinks we're already married. There's a party tonight for all the graduates, and we're expected to attend."
"We'll attend," Jack said. "Next week, the wedding."
"Aye."
They went straight from the hospital to the party, a dancehall on base, the officer's club. Jack counted two women for every graduate. Everybody ate and drank and danced. Jack refused to dance though, what with his knee. They made it back to their house on base, a little house, two bedrooms, a family room, kitchen and bathroom. They had furniture though, even a real sized bed. They spent six months sharing a bunk sized bed, so they enjoyed it…
* * *
Doctor Michaels put a big black mark on Jack's military record. It read, "Commanding officer shall at all times be aware that it will cause serious harm to Jack's psyche to be put in a situation where he is expected to kill civilian population under orders."
R.A.E.C.E. Genesis Page 6