by Kal Spriggs
“I don't understand,” I said. “Look, I want to do engineering, I like math, I like technology...”
“You can do that as tactical track,” Ashiri said. “I plan on doing that. Between commands, you work engineering staff jobs. If things work out, you could end up running an engineer lab or engineering section on a ship... but you'll be in charge, not just a technical expert.”
“I've got to think about this,” I said. “You guys are making my head hurt.”
“Don't take too long to think about it,” Ashiri said. “And whatever you do, don't switch to tactical and then back to technical, or they'll be certain you gave up. You might not even graduate then.”
“What?” I asked. “If I pass all my classes and stay out of trouble, why would I not graduate?”
“Well, you'd graduate,” Alexander said, “but they wouldn't commission you. They'd think you lost your nerve. They'd say thanks for your time, here's your diploma, but we don't have need of your service. It happens,” he glanced at Ashiri, “There's one or two cadets every year that it happens to.”
That sounded incredibly unfair to me, but what did I know, I was just a plebe. “Alright,” I said. I'll think about it.” This had all gone a long way off topic. “Hey, it's almost lights-out, you should probably leave the room before...”
“Plebe Karmazin!” Cadet Lieutenant Webster shouted from down the corridor. “You had better have a good reason for why you aren't in your room at lights out!”
Alexander winced, “Moving, Cadet Lieutenant!” He shouted. He gave us a wave as he ran out.
I listened with only half an ear as our Cadet Training Officer laid into him. I figured Cadet Lieutenant Webster would head here as soon as he finished up with Alexander. So much for getting to bed early, I thought to myself.
***
Chapter Seven: I Find A Peaceful Place
Sunday morning I went to the chapel service.
Outside, I found myself drawn to the outside wall. I remembered, vaguely, one of the Cadet Instructors calling it The Wall. As I moved closer, I saw it held hundreds of brass plaques. Each one held a name, a birth year, and a death year. They were in clusters of years, I saw, mostly centered around conflicts. Each one was a cadet. At first I didn't realize the meaning... but then I did. These were cadets who had died while attending the Academy.
I found myself choking up a bit as I realized just how many had died. Each plaque had a signal and I pulled one up on my datapad. “Cadet Second Class Ann King, born one-sixty-nine, died in one eighty-eight at the Battle of Rowan III. Cadet King was killed in action serving against the Culmor at the Battle of Rowan III when her vessel was struck by...”
I ended the playback. This was a memorial. It hadn't registered until now. This was to cadets who had lost their lives in service.
I made my way into the chapel, feeling overwhelmed. Yet as I took a seat, the plaques outside took on a deeper meaning. They had felt the same calling as I had. They were brothers and sisters of a sort... and the school remembered them. If something every happened to me, I would be remembered here too. As I came to that realization, my head cleared a bit and I started paying more attention to my surroundings.
I felt odd, sitting there, in the quiet, peaceful room. It almost felt as if time had slowed. The simple beauty of the place left me feeling relaxed, refreshed. In the constant movement of the Academy, it felt like the chapel was the only place I could really clear my head.
“Plebe Armstrong, welcome,” the chaplain greeted me at the inner doors again.
“Sir,” I nodded in reply. The chaplain was an odd position for me to understand. He was a commissioned officer, so I had to salute him and speak respectfully, but for services he was dressed in traditional priestly garb.
The last weekend I'd been so tired that I had barely listened to the sermon. This week, I listened with half an ear, mostly just glad to have a quiet moment to think. I still wasn't certain about my religious convictions, but I was just happy for a quiet place to sit and not be bothered.
After the service, as I stood to leave, the Chaplain gave me a smile, “Feel free to come by any time you need to talk.”
I was more than a little tempted to take him up on the offer. I felt like I had plenty on my mind, some things I could talk with Ashiri or Alexander about... but other stuff I couldn't... like their relationship.
“Thanks, sir,” I smiled, “I'll keep that in mind.”
***
“Military ethics is very different in principle from civilian ethics and morality,” Commander Bonnadonna said. We'd only just taken seats and he was already diving into the lecture. Personally, I was exhausted from being up early for grav-shell practice, then room inspection, and here, Monday morning, I had ethics class. I hid a yawn as he continued talking and just hoped he wouldn't call on me.
“Now, I just finished reading your papers on the subject and I was impressed by the... creativity that some of you showed. So we'll dive into some that. Hopefully by the end of today's lecture, you'll all have a better grasp for the differences,” Commander Bonnadonna said.
I felt my stomach sink at his words. I still didn't believe that he had time to read all of our papers. I'd barely had time to finish writing all ten pages in just a week, especially with all the other coursework, the grav-shell practices, and all the additional military stuff I had going on throughout the week. Still, I knew that my paper had been extremely vague about those differences.
“So,” Commander Bonnadonna began, “Miss Armstrong, let's start with a rather simple example. A man and woman fall in love and things take their course. In a normal world, how would morality come into effect?”
The answer was simple enough that I didn't trust it. He'd ensnared too many of our section before with “simple” questions that didn't have right answers. “As long as they're both willing, I don't see a problem with the morality,” I answered, choosing my words with care.
“Good, they're both willing, that implies that no coercion is involved,” Commander Bonnadonna nodded. “Excellent Miss Armstrong... but what if one of them were already married to someone else?”
I flushed, “Uh...”
“You can see that in such a condition, the morality could be called into question. In the civilian world, how might this affect things... Mister Dawson?”
“Ideally, they'd get a divorce,” he said.
“Yes,” Commander Bonnadonna nodded, “And should the person in question have children, they might not see those children again, except under judicially mandated circumstances, in fact, his spouse might take everything, including his most loyal dog. Not a good position to be left in and I don't recommend it.” He said it with a smirk on his face, as if he were telling a story, but I didn't know if he were joking or not. I wasn't sure if he'd made up the details to be humorous or if he were using someone in the class as an example.
“Now, in the military, there could be rather more extreme effects, could there not, Miss Drien?”
“Yes, Commander,” Sashi replied. Of everyone in the class, she seemed to enjoy these discussions the most. It was one more reason that I'd come to hate the class. “If one or both of them were in the Militia, then there would be effects on morale, on their work performance, and potential for problems over time.”
“Yes, very good, Miss Drien,” Commander Bonnadonna nodded. “So what if both were in the military? What if they were from the same unit? If the woman were the commander and the man were one of her junior officers? Can you see grounds for an unfair situation to arise? Would there not be suspicion of favoritism... justifiably so?”
Despite myself, I nodded. It came back to the ban on fraternization. I was actually surprised at how much it mirrored my own thoughts on the subject. I've been tricked, I thought, he's got me thinking about this stuff outside of class.
“Or worse, what if the man were married to one of the unit's junior officers?” Commander Bonnadonna asked. “How would that junior officer then interact with her
commander, knowing that her former husband had chosen someone else, possibly abandoning a family? How would other members of the commander's unit trust her after that?”
No one answered. I couldn't imagine someone doing something like that. How could you work for someone who would do such a thing?
“This is the difference between the military and civilian world. Things we think of as unfortunate or inappropriate as civilians can destroy the capabilities of a fighting unit. If that commander were charged to defend our world and such actions had just taken place, she would not be able to lead her unit. She would endanger countless lives over her own desires.”
That was quite a bit more profound than the gibberish I'd written in my paper.
“So,” Commander Bonnadonna said, “the same applies to a variety of other ethical considerations. This is the root of our Honor Code: I will not lie, cheat, or steal. The implication, of course, being that you won't do this to your fellow classmates or your instructors. Doing so is a failure of character, it undermines our community and trust.”
That made a lot of sense, I supposed. The problems came back to definitions, I supposed. All of the implications sort of made my head hurt, but almost in a good way. This was both frustrating and oddly interesting. I guess I see why Ashiri likes this class...
“Now that I've given you all something to chew on, I'd like you to take another look at your papers. Go ahead and do any revisions you feel necessary to give me a good product,” Commander Bonnadonna smiled. “And get those to me by tomorrow.”
I restrained a groan, but much of the class didn't. Revising my paper, orienting it on some of the things we'd talked about would take hours. Never mind, I thought, I hate this class.
***
“Plebe Armstrong,” Commander Scarpitti said as her class ended, “hold on a moment.” Her harsh, strange accent was gentled a bit as she smiled at me, as if to say that I wasn’t in trouble.
She'd gone a bit past her time, discussing engineering principles and I had my next class in only five minutes, so I wasn't exactly eager to wait, but I let the rest of the class funnel out and then moved up to her podium, “Yes, ma'am?”
I couldn't help a reflexive look up at the clock. My calculus and differential equations class started in just three minutes. I felt a lot more confident about that class than some of my others, but I still didn't want to be late.
“I just wanted to check with you to ensure that you haven't had any further trouble from those other plebes,” Commander Scarpitti said. “I also wanted to tell you that all three of them received demerits. So they'll all have extra duties.” She put extra weight on that, as if she were personally overseeing those duties.
“Okay, ma'am,” I replied. I was glad that they had received some kind of punishment, but I wasn't happy that they'd blame me for it. I didn't know how they'd react, but they'd probably just be sneakier about trying to get me. I was still hazy on the whole concept of demerits. If I remembered right, they counted as negative points until they were worked off, typically with extra work like cleaning the kitchens or classroom areas.
Since all of us plebes already had non-existent free time, I had no idea how they'd find the time to do anything like that.
“I know what it’s like, feeling a bit like a fish out of water,” she smiled at me. “When I immigrated to Century, I was just a young woman, little more than a refugee. I felt very out of place. If you ever feel like you need someone to talk to, a mentor, please, feel free to ask me.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” I replied. I sort of remembered that one of the other plebes had heard that she’d immigrated from Drakkus, which had explained the accent, but I hadn’t really thought about that. Still, I didn’t want to seem like I was currying favor or anything like that. I didn’t know what else to say, so I just stayed quiet, glancing up at the clock. I was going to have to run to make my next class on time.
“Well,” Major Scarpitti smiled, “let me know if you need anything else.”
“Of course, ma'am, thank you,” I replied. I glanced at the clock on my way out. I had just under a minute to get upstairs and into a seat. Normally I would have walked fast, but this time I ran. I made it to the stairwell and took the stairs two at a time, dodging around other cadets and plebes. Just as I reached the next floor, my boots skidded out on the slick, wet surface of the landing. I let out a yelp as I flailed for something to hold onto. Just ahead of me I saw water trickling down from above.
“Careful!” A voice shouted from behind me.
I tried to grab the railing but I missed. I felt a sick feeling as the world started to slow, as I knew I was about to fall.
A set of hands caught me and shoved me against the railing. “Be careful, Armstrong,” Sashi Drien bit out, even as I realized that she'd caught me. Before I could so much as say thanks, she let go of my shoulder and walked past me.
It took me a few seconds to catch my breath. The steep metal staircase would have been more than painful to fall down, it might have killed me. I looked at the floor where I'd slipped and then up at where water trickled down from a pipe in the ceiling. The entire stair landing was slick with water. Done in by stairs, how embarrassing would that have been?
As I looked up, I saw Commander Bonnadonna staring at me from the landing. “Had a bit of a slip, Miss Armstrong?” His dark eyes were unreadable and I wondered how long he'd been watching me. He had a datapad in his hands, and I saw that he was off to the side of the landing, out of the stream of water. I almost wondered if he'd been there when I slipped, if he might have caught me... but he hadn't.
“I'm fine, sir,” I stuttered, even as I straightened. I was going to be late for class. “Excuse me, sir.” I stepped past him, careful on the slick floor.
I kept my head down as I took my seat in the classroom. Commander Anson had already begun the lecture, but I saw him note my late arrival. I'd try to explain it to him after class. Hopefully it wouldn't make me late for my next class. Part of me was still in shock at the near miss. Part of me was wondering just how much of it had really been an accident. I'd been rushing, yes, but it had looked like the pipe had just burst. What if someone had seen me running up the stairs... or known I was coming? Commander Bonnadonna was right there, I thought, he could have shouted a warning, could have said something, but he didn't.
Sashi Drien had caught me, though. She'd literally saved me, from a painful fall, if nothing else, and possibly from serious injury or even death. I glanced over at where she sat, her attention focused on the teacher as he spoke. Why had she saved me? I would have expected her to let me fall, possibly to laugh, certainly not to grab me and make sure I had a good grip on the railing before she let go of me.
It gave me a lot to think about as I sat there in class. Like I didn't have enough on my plate already...
***
“Hello, class,” Doctor Aisling said cheerfully as she stepped into the room. “I hope all of you are having a wonderful day.” She flashed us all a sunny smile. With how cheerful and friendly she'd been so far, I had half convinced myself that I must have imagined her earlier words and actions.
Or maybe she's just evil and messing with me...
“We've actually gotten quite a bit ahead of our planned curriculum, so I thought we'd go off the outline a bit and talk some about future cybernetics that are just over the horizon,” she said. She toggled the class display with her implant and dimmed the lights at the same time. “Now, we're seeing substantial increases in device miniaturization as well as adaptive hardware. What do you think some of the implications of that might be?”
No one raised their hand at first. Finally, though, I saw Sashi Drien's hand go up. “Ma'am, Plebe Drien, Ogre Company,” she said, “I would guess substantially increased capabilities as far as data integration and usage, possibly a true data-link?”
“Interesting,” Doctor Aisling nodded, her eyes narrowing. “Clearly you've been doing some research, like others in the room, I'm certain. Yes, for those
of you in the class who haven't read into it, what she's discussing is an implant that fully integrates computer systems with a person's mind as opposed to what we have now, which is more like a data access process.” My eyes crossed a bit as I tried to understand that.
The doctor seemed to realize that she'd gotten a bit technical, so she explained further. “Right now, our current generation of neural computers are like very sophisticated datapads. You can browse data, conduct calls, compose papers, record notes, all of it in a sort of request-access process. It's a conscious process which we will train you in after we implant your neural computers. It quickly becomes as second nature as using a datapad, so that you can access information quickly and act on it. Combat implants allow you to interact with a ship or weapon system and use it to control these things.” On the displays, we could see signals from several regions in the brain connecting with the implanted neural computer. “You will basically be able to fly a ship, fire a weapon, or operate systems all through your implant.”
I nodded at that. It would cut down on reaction times and, in theory, it would make it easier to control whatever we were hooked in with. It still made me feel uneasy. I didn't like the thought of being wired into equipment like I was just another machine.
“What Plebe Drien is suggesting, and what some of our cutting edge technology suggests may soon be possible, is a full integration. Where a human mind directly interfaces with computer systems and control systems, so that an implanted human could control a weapons platform or control system as fast as they could think. Their data access would be subconscious, and their implant would adapt on the fly, delivering greater computational power as needed or converting to deliver more synapse links for greater integration with the user's mind.” The displays shifted to show an implant that wormed through the brain, with signal activity triggering throughout. It looked something like a cross between a crawling snake and a spider web. “Essentially, the human mind could process data far faster, control systems without conscious thought...”