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Day 74/2541
Janicot woke to the sound of an incoming call.
“Accept audio only,” he said.
“Mykhel, sorry to wake you in the middle of the night, but I thought you’d like to hear the news.”
Janicot recognized the voice as belonging to Belloc. “Go ahead, Chancellor.”
“A FED courier has just arrived in-system and transmitted their response to our prisoner exchange proposal. They’ve agreed to it without conditions or reservations, and they’re proposing that the exchange take place on a date to be set by us, on the fourth planet in a star system half way between Sparta and Earth. My staff tells me that the fourth planet has a rocky plateau that’s the only landmass on the whole planet. The rest is all water. Each side will send one unarmed ship. When both ships have landed, the prisoners will walk to the other ship at the same time.”
“That’s good news, Sir. I’ll get my people to arrange for a ship to take back our reply as soon as possible.”
“Very good, Mykhel. I hope you’ll be able to get back to sleep.”
The click told Janicot that Belloc had hung up. He thought briefly of trying to go back to sleep but decided that wasn’t going to happen, and if he was going to be up at this hour of the night, he might as well get things moving on the exchange sooner rather than later. It was with a certain amount of glee that he told his computer to call his Aide.
* * *
Day 175/2541
Former Navy Lieutenant Bret Murphy pressed the buzzer and waited.
“Who is it?”
The female voice had a suspicious tone to it. Murphy grinned. “You ordered a gigolo?”
He heard a chuckle followed by, “It’s about time you showed up. Enter.”
The computer-controlled door slid open. Murphy stepped into the dark room and looked around. He saw the silhouette of a woman’s body against the low, indirect lighting behind her. He waited until the door slid shut.
“I made sure no one followed me. Did you?” said Murphy.
“I was very careful. Since this is going to be our last time for a while, I slipped on something special.”
She stepped closer. There was barely enough light for him to see that she was wearing a tight-fitting, practically transparent garment with strategically placed dark patches.
“Very nice. Now come here, Captain,” ordered Murphy.
Army Captain Cate Foster giggled again. “Your wish is my command, Lieutenant.”
An hour later, they were catching their breath, lying on the bed with their arms around each other.
“So it’s official then?” he asked.
Foster sighed. “Yes, the SSU has accepted the proposed rendezvous point, and they’ve set the date for 63 days from now. That means our ship will have to leave in 72 hours. The call for volunteers will hit the media channels tomorrow morning. That’s why I said this will probably be the last time we see each other before you leave.”
“Unless you resign and come with me,” he said softly.
“Don’t make it any harder than it already is. You know as well as I do what an opportunity this is for the Union. Even though I was raised on Hekla, the fact that I was born on Earth and that I’m in the Army has allowed me to fall through the cracks insofar being vetted by verifier. Add to that the fact that I’m assigned to the Joint Army/Navy Planning Group, and that means I’ll have access to the Federation’s most important secrets almost as fast as the Chiefs of Staff. How can we throw that away by me resigning?”
“I know. But it’ll be hard waiting months, maybe even years, on the other side of the front line, not knowing if you’re okay or not.”
“Same here, babe. As long as I don’t have to undergo the verifier test, I should be okay, but I’ll be wondering what the Union will have you doing. I hate the thought of you being an officer on a Union navy ship being shot at by FED ships. Do you think there’s any way you could come back here on a freighter without the FEDs noticing?”
“You mean on a regular freighter run from a Federation planet that’s willing to trade with the Union?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I guess it would have to be something like that, but that’ll only work until Trojan sets up the joint Fleet/Army Force HQ on Hadley, which is scheduled to be in about 18 months. Maintaining contact after that will be damned difficult.”
He took his time answering. “If I were to come, it would put me AND you in danger if I’m discovered. I think the only way to send messages back and forth would be by using someone the FEDs don’t know about, as a courier.”
––––––––
“Damn.” She said it softly but with meaning.
He said nothing as he stroked her naked back. After several minutes of mutual silence, he said, “I can’t stay as long as I usually do, babe. If you’ve got anything new for me to carry back, now’s the time.”
“Oh shit, I forgot. You won’t be able to carry anything back except what’s in your head. All Union prisoners and volunteering sympathizers will have to undergo a very rigorous search before they get on the ship. If the FEDs find anything incriminating, the smuggler will be arrested and tried as a spy. I don’t want you to risk that. When the courier is set up, he or she can carry the data chips back. You should get rid of the ones you have now as soon as you get back to your place.”
“Damn! The technical data on their Oracle computer alone might make a huge difference.”
“I know, but it’s too risky. Promise me you won’t try to smuggle it out.”
After hesitating, he said, “I promise.” He checked the time on her chronometer. “Guess what we have just enough time to do before I have to go?”
She gave him a deep, throaty chuckle. “If it’s what I think it is, I get to be on top this time!”
They both laughed as she moved to straddle him.
63 days later:
Drake stepped off the boarding ramp with the others and got in line. He cursed the high humidity. The freighter crew claimed the outside temperature was mid 80s, but it felt like it was over 100. No wonder the planet had never been colonized. This plateau wasn’t big enough to house more than a few thousand people, and there was no farm land at all. Any colonists would have had to resort exclusively to aqua-culture for food. He looked in the distance and saw the freighter sent by the Union. Unlike freighters belonging to Federation-based shipping companies, like the one the FED Navy had charted to bring them here, the Union freighter had the SSU symbol painted in bold red on its hull. When all the prisoners and volunteers had lined up at the base of the ramp, the FED Officer in charge used a bullhorn to give them last-minute instructions.
“NOBODY MOVES UNTIL I SAY SO. WHEN I GIVE THE GO AHEAD, YOU’LL START WALKING AT A MODERATE PACE. STAY TO THE RIGHT OF THE GROUP COMING THE OTHER WAY. NO COMMUNICATING WITH ANYONE COMING THE OTHER WAY. ONCE YOU’RE PAST THE OTHER GROUP, YOU CAN DO AS YOU PLEASE.”
Drake heard similar instructions being given to the other group by someone from that ship. He watched the other ship and saw a flashing green light at the base. That must have been a signal to start.
“BEGIN WALKING,” said the officer.
Drake quickly realized that the instruction to walk at a moderate pace had been entirely unnecessary. The plateau had looked flat enough seen from the top of the boarding ramp, but the ground was actually pretty rough, with broken layers of stone to step carefully on or over. It was going to be difficult to look up in order to make eye contact with Lor without tripping over something.
As the other group got closer, he slowed a bit so that he could take frequent glances at them without falling down. There she was! She was having the same problem that he was. There weren’t going to be any long looks between them. Waving was probably not a good idea either. She was getting closer, but every time he glanced at her, she was looking down at the ground, and he was sure the reverse was also true. He decided to step out of line, stop and pretend to be adjusting the fit of his boots. As he went through the mechanical motions, he looked at Lor. She was finally looking back at him, if only for a second, and there was a slight smile on her face. He thought that he detected a slight nod too. He nodded back.
“KEEP MOVING!”
Drake was sure that was intended for him. It didn’t matter. She was past him now. He got up and resumed walking. As soon as they were past the end of the other group’s line, his line dissolved. Those who were sure-footed enough walked faster, while others kept to their own pace.
They had to line up again when they reached the boarding ramp of the Union ship. He could see Union Navy officers who were asking each person for name, place of birth or residence, and other personal information. No doubt everyone would have to undergo a verifier test just to preclude the possibility of FED spies. He looked around to make sure that every crewmember from the Valley Forge was accounted for. When he got to the front of the line, the officer requested his personal information.
“Roland Drake, born on Sparta. I’m a Commander in the SSU Navy and CO of the cruiser Valley Forge. My crew are all here as well.”
The officer looked at him carefully. “We were told you might be returning. Welcome back, Commander.” He handed Drake an ID chit produced from the handheld device he was using. “Next!”
59 days later:
Murphy stepped up to the table where two Union Navy NCOs were seated. He handed them his ID chit, which one of them inserted into a data tablet.
“Lieutenant Bret Murphy,” said the NCO whose nametag read O’Reilly.
“That’s right, Chief.”
“What was your former assignment, Lieutenant?”
Murphy took note of the fact that the Chief didn’t have to refer to him by his former rank but did so as a courtesy. “I was a liaison officer to the Army Logistics Division.”
O’Reilly nodded. “I’m sure the Union Navy can use you, but you’ll have to pass the verifier test, you understand.”
“Of course, Chief, but I also have some information that I think the Senior Naval Officer will want to hear about. Can you arrange for me to meet with him?”
O’Reilly exchanged glances with the other Chief. Murphy understood that look. It was the kind of look that NCOs shared with each other when they had to be polite to an officer whom they considered to be full of shit.
“I can’t get you in to see the CSO, Lieutenant, but I can pass your request on to his Aide.”
Murphy decided not to press the issue. Talking to a five-star Admiral’s Aide probably was the limit of the Chief’s reach.
“Whatever you can do will be appreciated, Chief.”
