by Isaac Hooke
The kid was crying the whole time Rade worked, and Rade had to wonder if he was doing something wrong. Thankfully Sil kept quiet in Shaw’s arms.
When he was done, Rade replaced the diaper. The male version had a slit to hold the genitals, with the suction unit placed well away from the penis to avoid any painful accidents, so Rade had to be careful to align the material with his son’s equipment. Then he sealed the diaper and lifted Alex up.
“There you go, all clear chief!” Rade told him. He wiped a sliver of drool from Alex’s chin, and then Rade puffed out his cheeks in what he hoped was a comical expression, but Alex erupted in tears once more.
Shaw replaced Sil, grabbed the boy from him, and took over the gentle consoling. She scowled at Rade. “I wish you wouldn’t call him by military names.”
Rade shook his head. “Whatever.” He sat down on one of the medical bunks near Shaw’s chair, and waited for her to put Alex back in the topmost crib.
“You know, Manic’s right, these babies kind of look like him,” Rade said.
“Ha,” Shaw said, sitting down.
“Ready to go eat?” Rade asked.
“You know,” Shaw said. “I feel like making some tika masala chicken tonight. And maybe some vanilla chutney bread pudding. Unless you’d rather eat in the wardroom with the men, of course.”
“No way,” Rade said. “How could I turn down a chance to eat some of your world famous vanilla chutney?”
“I’m not sure it’s my chutney you want...” Shaw said.
“Oh yes, I want your chutney,” Rade said, his voice dripping with innuendo. He tapped in Cora. “Hey, Cora, your shift is about to start. Where are you?”
The hatch to the sickbay promptly opened. A Centurion entered.
“There’s my favorite nursemaid,” Rade said. He grabbed Shaw’s hand and led her toward the entrance.
“Yes, I’m looking forward to a night of being awakened every five minutes by crying babies,” Cora said.
“I don’t envy you,” Rade said.
“They’ll grow out of that phase, soon,” Shaw said, apparently trying to reassure Cora.
“It can’t be too soon,” Cora said. “I’ll have to deactivate myself, otherwise.”
“You know, I have no problems filling in for you,” Shaw told the Centurion, stopping. “I am on maternity leave, after all. It’s not like I’ll miss my shift on the bridge tomorrow or anything if I stay up all night.”
“No,” Rade said, pulling her away. “You’re with the kids all day. What’s the point of having these robots if we don’t let them earn their keep? Let’s go.”
When they were outside the sickbay and the hatch sealed behind them, Rade turned to Shaw and said: “But you know, I have to wonder, is it a good idea to keep such a negative robot as a nursemaid? We could assign any other robot.”
“No, Cora’s fine,” Shaw said. “The role suits her more than combat, I think.”
“Just don’t let her hear that,” Rade said, beginning the walk to their shared stateroom. “Or she’ll deactivate herself for sure!”
“I think it’s all a show,” Shaw said. “If you ask me, she actually enjoys caring for the kids.”
“If you say so!” Rade said. “But then again, you’re a better judge of character than me. At least when it comes to robots.”
“I’ve noticed you’ve kept using the nicknames TJ assigned to the robots,” Shaw said. “How’s that going for you? Is it humanizing them more for you?”
“A little,” Rade said. “It’s certainly going to be harder to lose them. It’ll hit me here”—he pointed at his heart—”in addition to my pocketbook. Then again, we are backing them up before each mission, so in theory they can’t ever really die.”
“In theory,” Shaw agreed. “Unless they start behaving like Harlequin. How is he holding up, anyway?”
“He’s definitely more comfortable with the fact he’s been brought back,” Rade said. “And he’s happy, I think. He’s come into his own. Realized that he’s as brave as, if not braver than, the original Harlequin.”
“Well good,” Shaw said.
“Though he’s probably going to try to be the hero again at some point,” Rade said.
“Just like you?” Shaw said.
“No, not like me,” Rade told her sarcastically. “I have kids now, remember? I can’t take too many risks.”
“You’re still mad at me over that...” Shaw said.
“No, not really,” Rade said. He glanced at her a moment later. “Okay maybe a little.”
As one of the excuses for going off her contraceptives, Shaw had told him she wanted to give him a reason to live, and that having kids would be that reason. She had been wrong, of course, since he had all the drive to live he needed in her, and the men.
At their stateroom, as soon as the hatch closed Rade wrapped his arms around Shaw and slammed her into the bulkhead. His lips found hers, and she returned the kiss frantically, as if she hadn’t had him in ages. He tasted salt, and a hint of mint. He was glad he had changed into his looser pants.
“What about the chutney?” Shaw said breathlessly. A minty smell lingered when she finished. One hand reached down, cupping his bulging groin.
Rade threw Shaw onto the bunk and partially slid off his T-shirt—it got caught on his shoulder hardpoint. He ripped it the rest of the way off, not caring about tearing the fabric.
“I’ll give you some chutney,” he growled. He slid off his shoes, then dropped his pants and undergarments in the same move and lowered himself onto the bed.
Shaw had managed to open up her fatigues, and had entirely slid off the upper portion, but the lower portion was still wrapped around her knees.
Rade used them to pin her in place, and he slid down her panties while she opened her bra.
Rade touched his naked body to hers, but then hesitated. “Your contraceptives...”
“I’ve been taking them,” Shaw said huskily. “I’ve had enough kids for a while.”
“Good.” Rade lowered himself onto her, and took her passionately.
four
The Argonaut continued toward the exit Gate.
During the journey, Rade spent as much time as he could with Shaw in the nursery. It wasn’t like there was a whole lot going on at the bridge, after all. He continued the rest of his routine, otherwise: working out in the on-board gym, practicing on the sparring mat of the combat room, and training in the simulation pods of the war room.
It was a relief having Cora acting as nursemaid during the designated evenings and nights. Without her, Rade had no doubt he would have had no sleep at all. Shaw sometimes joined Cora at the end of the day, leaving Rade alone in the stateroom, and after a fitful sleep, when Rade would visit her in the sickbay the next morning he would either find Shaw staring bleary-eyed into space, or sleeping with her head down on the edge of Sil’s crib while Cora watched the babies.
He had started taking Bender and Manic to the combat room in the mornings after PT, and supervised fights between them. His aim was to get them to vent their aggression toward each other in a controlled manner. It seemed to be working. He stopped receiving reports of random check-ins to the sickbay during odd hours off-duty. And the two seemed to respect each other slightly more when they were on duty.
Rade remembered one particular combat bout between the pair that stood out from the rest. Bender had just delivered a savage beating to Manic, who lay on the ground, bleeding badly from the mouth.
“All right Manic, time to see the Weavers,” Rade said.
Manic weakly waved a dismissive hand. “Not done yet.”
Manic got up, and Bender beat him down with a quick blow to the chin.
“Stay down, you bitch!” Bender said.
“I’m not a bitch...” Manic said weakly. He scrambled to his feet again.
Once more Bender knocked him hard in the jaw.
Again he got up.
Rade felt the need to intervene. He stepped forward, and sto
od between Manic and Bender.
“That’s enough, Bender,” Rade said.
“Bitch keeps getting up,” Bender said.
“Of course he does,” Rade replied. “He’s an ex-MOTH. What would you expect him to do?”
Bender nodded slowly. “No you’re right, boss. I knew he’d get up again. I was going to stop.”
“Were you?” Rade said. “Sometimes I don’t know about you. When Manic is injured in the field, you’re always the first to come to his aid. But when he’s on the combat mat with, you show no mercy.”
Bender shrugged. “The pussy bitch knows what he’s getting into when he faces off with me on the mat. He knows I ain’t giving up, and if he wants the fight to end, he’s gotta lay down. Rules is rules. But in a real fight, it’s different of course. We’re on the same side. I know he’s got my back no matter what happens. Just as I have his. And besides, no one else is allowed to harm my punching bag.”
“All right, well, help Manic to the sickbay if you don’t mind,” Rade said.
And Bender did.
“That was a good feint you did back there, right before I got the knock-out punch,” Manic said between his bloody lips as Bender helped him toward the exit hatch.
“Bitch, you never got no knock-out punch against me,” Bender said.
“You just used a double negative,” Manic said. “Which means I did get a knock-out punch.”
“Ah, damn it, don’t make me bash your head into the bulkhead along the way!” Bender paused at the exit to glance at Rade. “You didn’t hear me say that, boss.”
Rade shook his head. “Actually I did. I’m ordering you to take him to sickbay without inflicting any more injuries.”
“I’ll do my best,” Bender said. He shrugged. “But accidents do happen. I might miss a doorway by a few meters, accidentally introducing his head to a big and beautiful door frame.”
“Bax,” Rade said, “let me know if Bender ‘accidentally’ bashes Manic’s head into anything along the way, or otherwise injures him.”
“I will keep a firm eye upon them,” the Argonaut’s AI replied.
“Aw boss, you’re no fun,” Bender said.
“Sickbay,” Rade said sternly.
“I’m going, I’m going.” Bender led Manic outside.
The Argonaut finally reached the first Gate. There, two Franco-Italian corvettes waited ominously, one on either flank of the large ring-shaped structure built in front of the Slipstream. This wasn’t exactly a busy system, but FI policy required placing a customs vessel at each and every Gate.
After running a quick scan of their vessel, the corvettes ordered the Argonaut through via the righthand side.
Rade glanced at Fret. “Inform the Franco-Italians that we’re launching a telemetry drone through first.”
“How should I explain it?” Fret said. “That isn’t exactly standard procedure.”
“Tell them we’ve never trusted Gate transits,” Rade said. “And that as a rule, we always send in a drone first to confirm no incoming ships are coming our way.”
A moment later Fret said: “They’ve approved the drone launch.”
Rade glanced at Manic. “Launch the telemetry drone.”
“Drone is away.”
On the tactical display, Rade watched the green dot representing the drone vanish through the Gate.
A few minutes later the dot returned and Lui reported: “Two more corvettes are waiting on the other side, but otherwise it’s clear.”
“What kind of corvettes?” Rade asked.
“One is Franco-Italian, and the other Hellene,” Lui said.
“That would make sense,” Tahoe said, “considering that the destination system is owned by the Hellenes.”
Rade tapped in Surus, who resided in her quarters in the cargo hold. “Are you watching this?”
“I am,” Surus replied. “The Greens could have commandeered either vessel on the other side of the Gate.”
Rade nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
When the drone docked with the ship, he turned toward the astrogator station to give his next order, and his eyes fell on an empty station. Shaw was in sickbay, of course, with the kids.
Rade sighed, and told the Argonaut’s AI: “Bax, take us through. Maximum allowable speed.”
The speed with which civilian vessels were allowed to pass through Gates was strictly regulated by law, and while it varied in the different systems, usually it was about a quarter of the Argonaut’s top speed.
The starship passed through the Gate and emerged into the adjacent system twenty-four lightyears away. Rade was ready to give the order to accelerate to full speed, but neither corvette on the other side paid any heed, and the Argonaut proceeded forward unmolested.
THE REMAINING TWO jumps and fifteen days to the destination system passed uneventfully. The Argonaut entered the T’anhua system and cleared Dakota customs without issue.
“Lui, how many other ships are in the system?” Rade asked his ops man.
“I’m picking up the heat signatures of twenty-seven vessels,” Lui said. “Twelve are Dakota military. The remaining fifteen are civilian: traders and their mercenary escorts.”
“Any of those ships could be owned by Greens,” Tahoe said.
Rade nodded slowly. “Lui, I want you and Bax to keep a vigil on those heat signatures. Watch for signs of directional change. Specifically, ships suddenly altering course to intercept us or the station.”
“Will do,” Lui replied.
But none of the ships changed course during the Argonaut’s flight, and they all proceeded along on their original trajectories. Two of the civilian ships left the system via the Gates after three days, while another three arrived on the fourth day. The latter ship classes were all merchant, and they appeared headed to random planets, so it seemed unlikely they were pursuing. Then again, it could have been subterfuge. Rade ordered Lui to continue his vigil.
When the Argonaut reached the free port Nātowēssiwak five days later, Space Traffic Control gave them clearance to dock. The hourglass-shaped station had a series of docking tubes that formed a spindle around the pinched core, where starships could dock directly. Each tube was a different length, allowing the station to accommodate ships of various sizes: the larger craft were docked to the longer tubes, while the smaller ships squeezed in between them and connected to the shorter variants.
The controllers assigned the Argonaut a spot between two cargo haulers.
“Does anyone else get the feeling we’re flying into a trap?” Lui said as Bax maneuvered the ship into position.
“Naw,” Bender said. “It’s all in your mind, Phooey Lui. A space station turning into a deathtrap? Noo. Never happen. Famous last words bitches!”
Tahoe glanced at Rade. “If this was a trap, why would they pick a destination system two jumps away? Why not something closer to Surus’ base?”
“Maybe the Greens wanted to deter suspicion?” Manic said.
Rade rubbed his chin, and stared at the tactical display. So far, none of the other ships in the system had yet to make any moves to intercept.
“Well, I guess we’ll find out shortly if this is indeed a trap,” Rade said. “Bax, finalize docking. Lui, keep an eye out on those heat signatures.”
“Will do,” Lui replied.
“All right team, let’s get an away team ready,” Rade said. “Bax, have Algorithm and Brat meet us at Airlock 3C. Tahoe, I want you to stay aboard with Harlequin and the rest of the combat robots. It’s your job to protect Shaw and the ship.” And my kids, he wanted to add. But he knew Shaw would be retrieving some gear from the armory even now: likely a blaster, at minimum, and maybe a few grenades. She would definitely protect the kids. He wouldn’t have had it any other way. She was the best person for the job.
“Got it,” Tahoe said. “Harlequin, assume a post on Airlock 3C.” That was the airlock soon-to-be-connected to the station. “Ernie and Formaldehyde, join him.” Those were the nicknames of Cen
turion Units E and F.
“Roger roger,” Ernie said.
“Roger roger,” Bender pantomimed, giving himself a high-pitched voice. “I’m a gay robot. Roger roger.”
“You’re so homophobic!” Fret said in mock outrage.
“I’m a homophobic bitch,” Bender continued in the high-pitched voice. “I’m a robot. Now bend over and prepare for penetration.”
“If it weren’t for the Machine Constitution,” Ernie said over the comm. “I’d kick your soft ass.”
“Look at that!” Bender said. “Again, the back talking of these AIs never ceases to amaze me! Shut your steel trap you robot worm. Soft ass, my ass.”
“That’s what it is,” Ernie replied.
“Docking complete,” Bax announced.
Rade stood. “Do the rest of you want to stay here bickering with the Centurions, or do you want to join me on the mission? If the latter, I suggest you proceed to the hangar bay with me now before I lose my patience.”
Bender lowered his gaze. “Coming, boss.”
“You sure are coming,” Fret winked.
“Shut it,” Bender said.
Rade left the bridge and entered the passageway beyond. He tapped in Surus. “Are you detecting any Phant presences?”
“That’s a negative,” Surus replied.
“We’re going to suit up?” Manic asked as the group proceeded toward the mech hangar bay.
“We are,” Rade said. “I’m not taking any chances. We’ll keep our faceplates open though, to save on oxygen.”
“Even with open faceplates we’re going to draw looks from the station-goers, you know,” Lui said.
“That’s fine,” Rade said. “Which would you prefer? A few funny looks and being prepared for anything? Or blending in for the sake of blending in, leaving your strength enhancements and breach protections behind? We’re not here on liberty, remember that.”
“Yes, but, I thought you didn’t want to attract attention?” Lui said.