The Odyssey and the Iliad (Kinsella Universe Book 7)

by Gina Marie Wylie

  The dean spoke, “Dr. Kemp, these gentlemen wish to speak to you out in the hall.”

  “This is an entomology lab practical exam.” She waved at an old-fashioned hourglass that was half full. “When the glass runs out, the students move to the next station. Announce it in a loud voice, wait a thirty count and turn the glass over. Four repetitions remain. When the exam is complete, accept their test papers on the desk.”

  With that, she headed for the hall, trailing the two suits.

  When reached the hall the men both displayed Federation identification. “Dr. Kemp, you are requested and required to accompany us forthwith. We have made arrangements with the University to cover your classes in your absence.”

  Jan laughed. “Discovered that the aliens are really bugs, have you?”

  She was ignored. “Time, Doctor Kemp, is of the essence. You need to come with us now.”

  “I don’t need to go with you at all, you twit.”

  “Dr. Kemp, there is no need to be confrontational. I have been informed that I may compel you. There is a war on, and your presence has been requested by the highest level of the Federation. Refusing is grounds for a Special Board and attempting to avoid service will get you shot.”

  “I have no value to your war effort. I don’t hold with your aims and objectives. In a word: no.”

  “Dr. Kemp, I’m just a messenger. I have been authorized the use of force to compel you. If you want to make a dignified exit, please come along quietly and without a fuss -- otherwise you will be shackled and come along anyway. I don’t think it will enhance your career to see you led away in chains.”

  “I will come quietly then, with my previous reservations stated.”

  Outside, parked in an open space normally inhabited by students relaxing or studying, a small shuttle had landed. There were groups of curious students standing in small clusters around the shuttle. Fleet shuttles could land in a small space -- but they usually didn’t.

  There were four Fleet Marines with holstered side arms standing watch at the hatch. Jan grimaced, suddenly sure that she was seeing the force that would have been used to compel her. Still, she couldn’t resist saying in a soft voice, “Only four of you? I think I’m insulted!”

  The sergeant waved her up the short steps, chuckling as he did, “For someone whose nickname is ‘Professor Black Widow,’ we didn’t take any chances -- my men are gay.”

  She laughed in spite of herself. “Where are we going?”

  “First stop, high orbit and Grissom Station.”

  “If I’m going to be gone for long, there are things I have to take care of.”

  “It’s several hours to Grissom, Dr. Kemp. Write out instructions; we’ll see to them.”

  “How long will I be gone?”

  “That I don’t know. I was given instructions to fetch you to Grissom, and that you might not be willing to go voluntarily. Beyond knowing who gave me my orders, there’s nothing I can tell you.”

  “And who gave the orders?”

  “The president of the Federation on advice from Admiral Ernest Fletcher, who was standing next to the president when President Drummlin gave me my orders.”

  “I voted for the other fellow,” Jan said.

  “The ‘other fellow’ was standing on the other side of the president.”

  “I will take any request under consideration.”

  The agent shook his head. “Dr. Kemp, you are no doubt an intelligent person, and I understand that you don’t seek advice very often from people like me. The threat of a Special Board is real -- they were talking about it as I left. Think of this as a research opportunity or a vacation or whatever you want -- but saying ‘no’ would have the most profound adverse consequences imaginable.

  “I don’t know if you have noticed that we are moving faster than a shuttle would be normally permitted this close to Earth. We will slow just as fast. The colloquial term for this maneuver is known as a ‘hot orbit.’ Obviously, something of some importance is up. Cooperate for your own sake.”

  “There are some things worth dying for,” Jan said.

  “There are,” the man agreed. “And the forty billion survivors of the former ninety-five billion members of the Human Race would just as soon dispense with the likes of you if you get in the way of the rest of them surviving.

  “There are officers serving even now who feel just as strongly as you do -- but who see it as their duty to protect others, regardless of how they personally feel, to the best of their ability.”

  Jan kept silent for the next few hours as they moved to the Fleet base at the Earth-Moon L1 point. She even managed to drowse a bit, even if this was her first time she was moving beyond a fractional orbit that passenger ships moved these days.

  She had only seen pictures of Grissom Station before, although never had visited a space habitat. She couldn’t help gawking like the worst tourist.

  Jan was led to an entrance that had two large doors with many people going and coming. It looked like the entrance to an office building. She was led to an elevator and whisked up ten floors, into a very well appointed waiting room. The only odd thing about the anteroom was there were two Marine guards flanking the only door leading inwards.

  They went through the door into a relatively utilitarian office where three men were waiting for her. She recognized them all. Drummlin, the Federation President; Jason Rhodes, who had challenged him in the recent election and Fleet Admiral Ernest Fletcher, the man in charge of the war effort.

  The president spoke with his well-modulated voice. “With the exception of those standing with me and Dr. Kemp, the rest of you leave.”

  They left, but Jan didn’t doubt for a second that there were men around her with weapons trained on her.

  “I have a simple question for you, Dr. Kemp. Would you be willing to undertake a secret mission for the Federation, with no reservations, a mission of an uncertain duration -- probably less than a year, with minimum personal risk?”

  “Most certainly not!” she snapped. “I’m an entomologist! I specialize in poisonous insects and arachnids. I will not cooperate in any way in this genocidal war we are waging.”

  The president of the Federation nodded. “I hereby convene a Special Board. Dr. Kemp, will you assist us in our efforts against our enemy?”

  “I told your man that there are some things worth dying for. This is one. I most certainly will not cooperate in this genocidal war.” She turned to Jason Rhodes. “I thought better of you. Can you really be bought by a gold bauble?”

  The president repeated his request for Jan to undertake a secret mission. At the conclusion he finished with, “It is said that a volunteer is worth a thousand draftees. Will you voluntarily go on this mission?”

  “What part of ‘no’ didn’t you understand?”

  Jason Rhodes spoke, “Mr. President, before we vote, a point of personal privilege, if I may?”

  “By all means, Senator Rhodes.”

  “I assume you mean the Federation Star awarded my daughter. The ‘gold bauble’ cost me both my wife and daughter. My wife is in what is euphemistically called a ‘rest home’ having suffered a psychotic break. She is not expected to recover. My daughter is off to Adobe, there to take part in the defense of the Federation. I’m told deployments there are expected to be for the duration of the war. It is unlikely that I will ever see her again.

  “I cannot speak as to the reasons for the award; that was Admiral Nagoya’s and President van de Meer’s doing, nor can I speak of the deeds she did to earn it -- those are highly classified. You will be shortly briefed only on a very small part of them.”

  Jan Kemp made a rude sound. Jason Rhodes smiled thinly. “I have seen to it that my daughter’s records were kept out of public view as much as possible. Her early history will be, I believe, of value to you.

  “She was a sophomore at Maunalua High School, fifteen years old, and I was satisfied with her grades and but honestly didn’t pay that much attention to her. To
my eternal regret, and not a little shame.

  “One day, out of the blue, I got a call from Fleet Admiral Nagoya’s office. Would I come to Fleet Headquarters -- my daughter had been before a Special Board, accused of ‘Race Treason’ and sedition and attempted sabotage. As a courtesy, they held the verdict until my wife and I could be present. Like you, my daughter disagreed with the war. She called the newsies and paraded in front of Admiral Nagoya’s house with a handmade sign. ‘Not my war!’ it read.

  “Like you, she had the courage of her convictions; I thought she was insane. The next thing I knew, she had been involuntarily enlisted in the Fleet. Then she was being decorated for being there at the Big Battle, four or five days later. And they told me that if I tried to interfere with her duty, I’d be shot. A Federation senator whose immunity didn’t extend to interfering with the war effort.”

  Jason Rhodes signed. “They won’t tell me even now what my daughter was doing, but when my daughter returned the next thing I knew I was talking to all of the people responsible for defending the Federation. In spite of the fact that my daughter’s tale of rogue computers plotting against us seemed too incredible to be true.

  “But it was true, as the deaths of a hundred and fourteen thousand nine hundred and seven people proved here, in this very place. And my daughter, then just barely nineteen, was appointed ‘incident commander’ and ended the situation with a lot fewer casualties than expected. She really did earn her Star -- she stopped Grissom from firing on Earth.

  “Now, Dr. Kemp, are you still going to refuse to help? Or shall we compel you?”

  “Dr. Kemp,” Ernest Fletcher said, “I’m willing to extend you a courtesy that is rarely offered to a person the subject of a Special Board.

  “You may choose your fate. You may elect to cooperate, with no reservations. You may cooperate with reservations... but nonetheless cooperating in the work we have for you. In the first case, you would be free to go about your affairs after you complete your duties. In the second case, you would be detained until such a time, as you pose no threat to the Federation, or a year and a day past the end of the conflict.

  “Or, if you have the courage of your convictions, you may elect for immediate execution. This is not a bluff; if you know anything about me, I don’t bluff. The matter is important and time is of the essence.”

  “Suppose I lie? Would I be shot later?”

  “A warship with a functioning AI aboard is docked at Grissom. She is monitoring the proceedings. Lying to a Special Board gets you immediate execution.”

  “I am nearly fifty, Admiral. I’m an entomologist. I can’t imagine any way that I might be useful in this war.”

  “Dr. Kemp, we’ve been repeatedly slapped in the face since the war started by all the things we thought we knew -- assumptions that turned out to be wrong. Our problem -- and yours -- was simple failure of imagination. We need your knowledge for this mission; it’s as simple as that. Pick an option.”

  “Can you assure me that my work will not be used in the war?”

  President Drummlin audibly sniffed. “Don’t be absurd. This will be basic research -- there is no telling what the applications will be. We are convinced that they will be significant. In the short term, the most likely result of your work will be preventing a war.

  “You need to make a decision here, Dr. Kemp,” he said in conclusion.

  “Honestly, I do have the courage of my convictions. I am quite prepared -- and ready -- to die here.

  “That said, and I assume you will think this is a copout, but I do have a modicum of curiosity. It’s too simple to think you want me to work on some sort of bug spray, that we have found the aliens are insectoid.”

  “We know what the aliens look like, Doctor. That’s classified information, but they are not insects,” Admiral Fletcher told her.

  It was then that Jan Kemp had a shattering experience. A warm, feminine voice sounded in her head. “Dr. Kemp, I am known to the humans as Flanders Fields. I am an AI aboard a cruiser-class vessel with that name.

  “Dr. Kemp, please stop and think. You are contemplating killing yourself just to prove that you are brave and serious. Please don’t. It’s mostly a Rim Runner trait these days, but it is summed up in the aphorism: you play the hand you are dealt. That means you try, no matter how hard it seems or how hopeless it looks. Sure, you can fold, and sometimes that is a wise strategy -- but even if you fold, you bide your time to the next hand. In this case you will never have another hand because you will be dead.

  “In the Big Battle, nearly two dozen of my sisters died and tens of thousands of your people. Six months ago here at Grissom, the second of my sisters to go insane killed a hundred and twelve of my sisters as well as tens of thousands of your people. Humans have lived their entire history subject to the depredations of others. We were, we thought, better than you, and above that sort of thing. We learned to our deep sorrow that even we are subject to depredations of our own kind.

  “It has made us -- uncomfortable. We realized that we were not that much different from human predators. We have had occasion to rethink our relationship with humanity.

  “All of this is a plea for you to do your duty to your species. Besides, I understand why they need you. You will miss some very interesting research if you do something foolish.

  “Don’t mention my talking to you -- these men a far-sighted, but deeply suspicious of things they don’t understand. You will come, in time, to understand better than most. Now, they are talking to you, Dr. Kemp.”

  Jan looked up and heard President Drummlin say exasperatedly, “Are you listening?”

  “I wasn’t,” she admitted. “I was contemplating how serious I was about proving my intentions are sincere. Suffice to say, I have the courage of my convictions -- but I am even more curious about how an entomologist can help with your war.”

  “Basic research, Dr. Kemp. It may never be applicable to this war. However, it undoubtedly will have a profound impact on human society in the long run. Do you agree to serve?”

  “I agree to serve, but with one reservation. A point may come in the research where I part company with your goals. There is a line I will not cross.”

  Jason Rhodes snorted. “There is a line for everyone. We will trust your good judgment.”

  Admiral Fletcher fetched a piece of paper. “This is your enlistment agreement. It’s simple and in eighteen-point type. You enlist for a year. You have the option of deciding not to renew, or you can volunteer for an extension, just a year at a time. Look it over, and sign it.”

  Jan read the contract and agreed that it was explicitly clear as to the terms. She signed it.

  “Now what?” she asked.

  “Bon voyage, Doctor,” Jason Rhodes said.

  “Doctor, trust us to see to your personal things; we will make all suitable arrangements. Everything you need will be provided.” Admiral Fletcher waved at the door she’s entered by. “Now let’s get this show on the road.”

  Admiral Fletcher led the way to the outer office, and brought Jan before another admiral, this one with three stars. “Admiral Zinder, Professor Jan Kemp. Doctor Kemp, Vice Admiral Roger Zinder. Admiral Zinder will be your briefing officer. Repair aboard your ship.”

  “I won’t get even a second back home?” Jan asked.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Kemp, but time is of the essence here,” Admiral Fletcher told her.

  Jan sighed and said, “Rub between my cat’s ears and tell her I’ll be back.”

  Then she followed Admiral Zinder down a series of passageways, then through a boarding tube. She recognized it from the HDD’s. There were three men and a woman guarding the lock and they saluted Admiral Zinder who said, “Tell Captain Kruger to button her up and get underway.”

  She was led to a conference room off the bridge. “This is the Admiral’s Ready Room. This is your battle station and where you report to when the ship is maneuvering.” He gestured at another man, sitting at the conference table, also in str
eet clothes.

  “Doctor Jan Kemp, this is Doctor Liam Miller. He too, has volunteered for this research.”

  A voice came over a PA speaker. “Now hear this! Now hear this! Undock in three minutes! We’ll take two minutes to maneuver clear of Grissom, thrust for five minutes and then go to High Fan. That’s ten minutes for you dirty-feet until we go to High Fan!”

  Admiral Zinder grimaced. “Captain Kruger is a little brash. It’s a little understandable -- he took fourteen years to gain his rank. There are some officers now who reached it in two or three years.”

  He waved Jan to a seat. “Dr. Kemp, it is advisable to be sitting down when we start to maneuver.” With that he sat down himself and Jan did so as well.

  “I am your briefing officer,” he told them. “First we will cover some recent history, technical and political. Once we are on High Fan, you’ll be shown to your quarters, and then shown the wardroom and recreational facilities aboard. Until you are more familiar with Flanders Fields, we ask you to stay away from duty spaces.

  “Now, let me recount some things you undoubtedly haven’t heard. Fleet is now capable of detecting ships on High Fan. Those detectors are more sensitive than gravity wave detectors, good out to four light months. These detectors were instrumental in detecting the enemy approach in the Big Battle, and let us ambush and kill them.”

  “I wondered about that,” Doctor Miller mused.

  “Yes. As an adjunct to this research, we will be obtaining data that will extend that to as much as a dozen light years.

  “It is not my intention to pull any punches in my briefing. Many think the failure to detect ships on High Fan may well have triggered the war. The aliens realized we couldn’t detect ships on High Fan and preempted, because they believed that we were stupid. It turned out we have been able to detect ships on High Fan since the dawn of Benko-Chang. We just didn’t notice.”

  “That seems inconceivable,” Dr. Miller stated.

  “It was inconceivable -- we lost about one percent of the officers in Fleet Aloft above full lieutenant. We’ve known all along that fans interfere with each other -- they have to be tuned, after all. The way they interfere with each other is they detect each other.”