Shards Book One

by Peter W Prellwitz

  "Computer, please allow me access."

  "You are not allowed access.? Okay. Time to try another tact.

  "Computer, please state duty for Private Abigail Wyeth."

  "Private Abigail Wyeth has laundry detail from 0400 to 1000 each day."

  "And who do I report to?"

  "During laundry detail, Private Abigail Wyeth reports to Private William Jackson. All remaining hours, Private Abigail Wyeth reports to Corporal Susan Lendler."

  "Computer, please locate Private William Jackson relevant to my position."

  "Private William Jackson is located four meters directly in front of your current position."

  "Computer, what is the privacy status for the laundry door?"

  "The sight privacy for the laundry door is active. The sound privacy is not active.? That made Private Jackson, deaf, dead, or a jerk. I'd give it one more try.

  "Private Jackson!? I yelled at the door.? This is Abigail! Could you let me in? Please?? Nothing. Well, enough of this.

  I looked for the override and located it, as on other doors, about a meter above the floor. I hadn't had a chance to really study it before, but I did so now. I pressed the override switch, but it ignored me. I wondered why. Maybe he liked to play games. Or maybe he was hurt, I thought suddenly. I immediately felt terribly guilty for the things I had thought about him. Poor William! I hurriedly detached the faceplate and studied the guts of the thing. Six lengths of fiber optic cabling and a type of gravity switching that would probably allow for manual override at power loss. I took a quick look at the logic board and calculated the probabilities of function. Getting desperate to get in and help him, I took a chance. I grabbed the two outside cables, twisted them together and shoved them against the gravity switch.

  Nothing for two seconds. Then I smelled a quick whiff of ozone, and there was a soft pop. I felt a tingle going up my arm, and I jerked it away quickly and stood up.

  The door was now an opening, and there stood poor William Jackson, glaring at me. I'd have to keep my imagination in check from now on. He looked awful, but I guessed he had grown into that. Maybe regulations on shaving had relaxed over the years. He glared at me through piggy eyes. I felt like mud had been slopped on me.

  "Time!? he snapped.

  "0401!? the computer barked.

  "You're late! You were supposed to have reported here at 0400!"

  "I was outside the door on time, but it wouldn't open!? I protested.

  "Uh-huh. So what did you do to the door?"

  "Well, when you didn't open the door after I knocked and shouted, I thought that you were hurt.? I was getting a little ticked off myself.? Why didn't you open the door? In fact, why couldn't I have just walked in? I'm supposed to be here."

  "That's right, you're supposed to be here!? he sneered nastily, ignoring my question.? But you weren't.

  You're late. Give me fifty, Wyeth!"

  "What!?? I couldn't have been more surprised if he'd suddenly turned into an ogre. Which he was starting to.

  "You heard me! Give me fifty!? He pointed to the floor.

  I didn't know what to say. That I was flustered was an understatement. I was completely dumbfounded. I didn't know what to do, so I did as he said. Maybe this was one of those initiation things. If so, I preferred the food trick.

  I dropped to my hands and gave him fifty pushups. Or tried to. After fifteen, my arms and chest muscles were burning. By twenty, I couldn't go any further. My upper body strength was gone. Rather, it had never been there.

  "Can't count, huh? I said fifty. That's twenty. And most of them were little girl pushups.? I didn't point out the obvious. Instead, I managed about five more before he shoved a foot under my stomach and flopped me over.

  "Okay, you can do the rest later. Don't be late tomorrow. Now get to work."

  By this time I was more than ready to unload on him. I'd been treated like a princess until now, when they weren't poking around in my head or beating me up, and although I didn't really expect that kind of treatment to continue, I was hoping to at least be treated with some respect. I opened my mouth to get really nasty, then closed it, and fought down my anger. Keep calm, Abby. You stick around long enough and you'll make corporal or better and then you can read him from the book. I'd give him the worst detail available.

  Two hours later, I saw the flaw in my plan. He already had the worst detail available. Except mine. I was already aching from the pushups, but now I was really hurting. There were nearly two hundred people in this complex, and they got a lot of clothes dirty. Bundle after bundle of clothing was loaded, washed, dried, sorted, folded and rebagged. It was hot, smelly, steamy back-breaking work. If it hadn't been for the body sheath against my skin, I would have passed out. As it was, I was sweat soaked within twenty minutes and stayed that way.

  Jackson didn't help much. It became pretty clear that those pushups and the locked door were no initiation. I'd had it pegged from the beginning; he was a jerk. I'd come across them my first time through the military. I'd had the ability to deal with the Jacksons of the past, but this one was my superior. So I shut up and tried to live through it.

  It wasn't easy. He was sloppy, lazy and rude. He did a fraction of the work and gave no consideration for my far smaller size and strength. Claiming there was too much? paper work? to do-somehow that phrase had survived the ages-he fiddled on the computer terminal for several hours, keeping the field tight, so I couldn't see what he was viewing. When he did help, it was grudgingly and only on the heaviest loads, which I couldn't lift high enough to get into the huge front-loading washers. Dr. Barrett was right; washing clothes hadn't changed a great deal over the centuries. It had gotten much faster, which is how two people could do the work. Okay, one person and an animated bag of lard.

  I'd pulled far worse details before, but only ones that involved killing people, which this one might yet still.

  This was really, really bad. I wondered for a while if Dr. Barrett had put me in here as some sort of weird test. After thinking it through, though, I decided that nobody really knew how bad it was in here. More than likely Jackson was alone most the time; the job really could be done by one person, if he were big enough, which Jackson was and I wasn't.

  I don't know how I kept sane during that first shift. He blocked off my computer access so I could not even ask for time. On top of that, he repaired and reactivated the door, blocking out both sight and sound. The laundry was Private Jackson's little kingdom, and I was his peasantry. I understood now the appeal of mixing royal heads and guillotines.

  Finally, finally, finally, Jackson walked over and told me my duty was over. He wasn't too happy about it, either.

  "Geez, you've still got a couple loads left! I'll have to stay and cover for you.? He paused to let me thank him, which I didn't. Instead I walked by him. He grabbed me by the shoulder. In a split second, I selected five ways to get that hand off my shoulder. One of them even left the hand unbroken and attached. I denied myself the pleasure and stood still and stiff.

  "Hey, don't give me an attitude, Wyeth! You might be some special toy outside, but in here, you do as I say, got it?"

  "Yes, I've got it, Jackson,? I said tiredly.? Can I go now?"

  He looked like he wanted to say something mean, but instead just nodded.

  I stepped out of the laundry and blinked at the bright pseudo sunlight pouring down from the high ceiling.

  It felt warm and wonderful. The mess had about thirty people in it, most of whom waved when they saw me. I waved back tiredly and trudged off to my quarters. I'd gone only a few steps down the corridor when I heard Susie calling my name and running up behind me. I turned and waited for her to catch up.

  She looked wonderful. She had on a more feminine cut of uniform, with skirt, and had her hair done nicely. Maybe even a little make up, though I couldn't really tell. She was smiling as she approached, but stopped when she got up to me. I started walking again.

  "Hey, you okay, girl?? she said, a note of conc
ern taking some of the cheerfulness out of her voice.

  "Yeah, I'm fine. Let my next of kin know the reading of the will is Tuesday, okay? Open, please.? I walked through the door and to my dresser.

  "You don't have to ask to enter, anymore. The door's keyed to your presence as well as voice now."

  "Great. Thanks.? I started to pull out a change. I heard my bed calling to me, but I wasn't going to even think about sleeping until I'd washed the laundry and Jackson down the shower drain.

  "Sorry about the duty, Abigail. Jackson 's a jerk."

  "I'd noticed that, too. I can handle him."

  "Are you sure? I could rough him up a bit. You know, pick him out for 'training' exercises."

  I laughed at the thought. She smiled at my perk up.? Thanks, Susie, but no. I've got to deal with him myself. He thinks I'm everyone's favorite toy, and if I hide behind you all the time, he might be right."

  "You can't take on Jackson by yourself, he's three times your size. And you're not our toy, but you…"

  "I said let me handle it, okay?? I snapped angrily and immediately regretted it.? I'm sorry, Susie. I'm just real, real tired. But I mean it. Let me handle him. He's not the enemy, or anything like that. He's just a bully. And you've got to stand up to bullies."

  "All right. If you change your mind…"

  "Thanks. Listen, I'm going to clean up. What's on my duty for today?"

  "Nothing official. We're going to ease you into the routine. Later this afternoon, I'd like to take you to the armory, and have you pick out a sidearm. Then maybe some target practice and tactics orientation.

  Tonight we'll hit the gym."

  "Fine, as long as we're not hitting each other."

  "Not likely. If I have my way, I'll never face you again except in very controlled conditions. I'd also like to get you in a workout with Company A. Company B is on skirmish tomorrow afternoon, so they'll be in briefing."

  "How about the Research room? I still haven't seen that yet.? She seemed a little uneasy, and I could guess why.? Never mind. But when the time comes that you can trust me completely, I'd like a look."

  "It's not that, Abigail. We do trust you. It's just that we're in the final stages of research on another Cue, and the place is pretty busy and very restricted. I don't even go in there too much now. Probably in a week or two.? That made me feel better.

  Later, though, standing in the shower, letting the hot water pour over my head and aching shoulders, my feelings were a little more mixed. A new Cue? I wondered what she would be like. Or he. Would I get to meet her? Did I want to? I suppose I was feeling a little jealous. I did have a privileged position as a Cue, even though it did come with a price. Would that be diminished or lost with the new Cue? That was pretty petty, I had to admit to myself. Of course I'd help her or him out. I'd be in the best position to sympathize certainly. I just wish I could have had a little more time as-and here I conceded Jackson a point-everyone's new toy.

  I finished cleaning up, brushing my teeth this time, and went to bed. I'd now been in the showers so many times I could have gotten another hour of sleep by just moving my bed into the bathroom. Tired? I could have slept on the tiles. I dropped my clothes into a heap in the laundry chute, then dropped myself into a heap in bed. I squirmed around for a while, finding the very best position to relax my body. My shoulders and back hurt so much that I reached over to Susie's bed and swiped her pillow to lay on. It helped.

  Turning down the lights to late evening, I fell off into a deep sleep.

  ****

  When I woke up, I felt much, much better. The computer told me it was almost three p.m. and that Susie was not in the compound. I dressed into another work uniform, which was pants, blouse and jacket. I didn't bother with the sheath this time. It had helped immensely keeping me cool in the laundry, but it felt like I had a layer of oil on, it was so slippery. I stomped into my heavier boots-I had been issued two pairs of shoes and one pair of boots-and headed for the armory. Susie had mentioned I would be issued a sidearm today, and I was very keen on selecting my own.

  The armory was in the hanger, cut into the far wall away from the gym area. There was an older man working at a table when I walked up. He was working on a heavy rifle of some sort and didn't hear my approach. When I cleared my throat politely, he looked up. Recognizing me, he cracked a wide smile.

  "Why, hello there. Abigail, isn't it?? He set down the rifle and picked up a rag.

  I nodded.? Hello. Yes. Abigail Wyeth. Sus-uh, Corporal Lendler said I would be issued a sidearm today, and I was hoping to have a chance to pick one."

  "Well now, that sounds reasonable.? He tapped a couple times on his terminal. He looked up at me and winked.? I don't need the thing, but I've gotta keep them thinking I know what I'm doing.? I smiled.?

  Here we go. Yep. Got you on the issue list right here. But I can't release any weapon without the Corporal's thumbprint

  IS VERIFIED. THE DOCKING CONTROLS ARE NOW YOURS, PILOT. PLEASE NOTE THAT NAVIGATIONAL BUOYS GAMMA 23 AND EPSILON 24 ARE CURRENTLY DAMAGED AND INOPERATIVE. THERE HAS ALSO BEEN A SOLAR FLARE WARNING ISSUED FROM 0500 UNTIL 2030 TOMORROW NIGHT. I HAVE DETECTED A SMALL FLUCTUATION IN PORT THRUSTER SIX. COMPENSATION BURST FROM PORT THRUSTER FIVE HAS CORRECTED THE PROBLEM. DOCKING WILL COMMENCE IN TWO POINT ONE MINUTES. STATION GAMMA HAS CLEARED PLATFORM 189 AND WISHES TO INFORM YOU

  "Hey, kid!"

  "Yes?? I started as he broke off his conversation abruptly.? You were saying about Corporal Lendler's thumbprint?"

  He shook his head.? Teenagers. You gotta be hundreds of years old, but,? and he shook his head again.? Gotta be the hormones. Teenagers."

  While I stood there trying to figure out this odd comment, he went over to a weapons locker and pulled out a sampling of side arms. He motioned me to step inside, so I joined him. He held them out like a proud father showing off his beloved triplets.

  "Just 'cause I can't issue you one doesn't mean you can't try 'em out. One of these should do the trick.

  Let's start with this one.? He set two of them down and offered me the remaining one.

  I hefted it in my hand. It was heavy, but considerably lighter than the one I'd swiped during my aborted escape. It was small caliber, projectile based and seemed to have a limited magazine. The balance was decent, but sluggish.

  "Is there someplace I can try this?"

  "Sure. Right here. Hey, Agnes!"

  "Whadaya want, bean pole?? The computer's voice took on a shrill woman's tone.? Gonna shoot off some guns again?"

  "Yep. Shut 'er off and open 'er up."

  "Yeah, yeah,? the computer grumbled. I could almost picture her shuffling off slowly to get whatever it was he'd asked for. But it was only imagination. Very quickly the sound from the hanger was cut off, and a long, fairly wide opening appeared in the rear wall of the armory. It looked to be a tunnel, but was clearly a target range.

  I walked over to the range and hefted the gun. He followed me.

  "Here's the safety, load indicator and sonic sighting. When the indicator lights, you've acquired target lock."

  "No laser sighting?"

  "Nope. Sound sights are lighter and they don't give off that telltale beam which can also be locked onto for return fire. Also, the range of a weapon this small is short, so the sonics are accurate enough. Aim it like this…"

  He stepped up close to me and put his right hand on my shoulder, extending his left arm out along mine.

  His face was alongside mine, a little higher. It made me vaguely uneasy. I shrugged him off a little bit, and he backed up, his ears burning.

  "Sorry! Didn't mean anything. I just wanted…"

  "Please. It's all right. I should apologize. I'm still uncomfortable with…? I let my voice trail off.

  He laughed.? Me, too! I've heard all about it. Everyone has. I suppose we're all kinda walking on eggshells first time we see you. It's gotta be pretty hard… you know…? He gave me a fatherly smile, and it felt very good inside me.? Let's try again, okay?"

/>   "Okay. I've got the training, by the way, but thanks for the assist. Have you any targets?"

  "Wouldn't be much of a range if I didn't, would it? Agnes! Give our young guest something to shoot."

  Dutifully, a standard bulls eye appeared about one third of the way down the range, perhaps twenty meters. I lifted the gun and shot, not bothering to aim. The gun kicked hard in my hand and a tone went off. The target, a floating hologram, indicated with a gold ring where the bullet had gone. On a target one meter in diameter, I was about half way in. I cursed quietly. But not quietly enough, because my new friend's eyes got wide. Blushing from my lack of control with both mouth and gun, I lifted the gun again and fired. Closer but not good. The third shot drifted out further, and by the time I fired the ninth and last round, I was missing the target completely and the gun was getting too heavy to lift.

  "I can't believe how heavy this thing is already!"

  "Sorry. I picked out the lightest slug gun we have. I don't think it'll work for you. Your hands and arms don't have the strength. You'll be stronger in a couple years, but it's not going to change much."

  "I'm beginning to get that idea that more and more. I'm big on flexibility but short on everything else. I don't think this is the one. Anything lighter?? I handed the gun back.? I just realized, I haven't asked your name."

  "No problem.? He reloaded the gun with a flick of his wrist and handed me a second gun.? I'm Darrin Woodside. Just call me Dusty. Don't have a rank. At least, I don't use it. When you're the only one that can fix everything, rank doesn't mean a whole bunch."

  "All right, Dusty. Let's try number two. Energy based, isn't it?"

  "Yep. This one's pretty slick. It fires plasma, so its gotta kick, and she pulls a might high and right. But she's also got a two second recharge cycle, a slightly oversized power pack, and does more damage than you'd think. Give it a try."

  This gun was far lighter, though nearly as bulky. I activated the sonic sight and snapped on the charge cycle. A small tone gave me cycle complete and a second tone told me I had target acquisition. Aiming a little low and left, I squeezed the trigger.