CHAPTER 2

 

Jonah Fielding lay back on his bed with his eyes closed. An array of bright points of light, implanted within his synthetic corneas, illuminated the inside of his eyes. If the room had been dark, the emitted light would have made his closed eyelids glow red, a sure sign that a person was interacting with their Visual Impression implant (VI).

A shadow passed between Jonah and the lights glowing on the ceiling of the shuttle port sleeping rooms. He opened his eyes to the familiar silhouette of Master Sargent Aymes.

“Get up sleeping beauty we’re going for a run.”

The detail in her jagged face appeared as his eyes adjusted to the light. Aymes pulled him effortlessly to his feet as he offered a hand.

“Aye aye, Master Sargent” Jonah responded. “Shall I wake the others?”

Aymes nodded once and turned towards the door. She had to angle her massive shoulders and duck her head to avoid the frame.

“Wake up Pham,” Jonah yelled. Most of the sleeping heads turned, including Pham’s. “Move quick boys and girls or I’ll dump you over the rail half way to Alpha Centauri. Anybody fancy a swim in the rings of Saturn?”

“That’s a lot less than half way,” someone grumbled.

“True enough,” Jonah thought as he followed his unit out the door and into his last afternoon on Earth.

Jonah and Aymes led the way as they pounded through the concrete and steel of the spaceport in a double column. The landing pads spread gray and featureless along a scrap of land on the sea coast of Belgium, a few clicks north of what used to serve as the border with France. They skirted the perimeter, trying to ignore the hulking craft waiting to carry them out of the atmosphere and away into space. Aymes ran in silence, but the rest chatted away like monkeys.

“So how come we got added to this mission?” PFC Pham puffed between breaths. “On the news they said that this was just a diplomatic trip, designed to show off the hypersleep tech. Politics and shit.”

Jonah shrugged, “No idea. All I know is that it was sudden. There wasn’t going to be an escort ‘till two weeks ago.”

The unit trundled on, speculating, until they neared the center of one of the larger expanses of concrete.

Aymes held up a fist and the double column slowed to a standstill. Aymes and Jonah exchanged a look. Aymes with her hands on her broad hips and Jonah with his hands behind his head. Sweat stained the gray T-shirts and blue PT shorts of the UN marines as they puffed in the summer heat reflecting off the acres of shuttle port concrete.

Aymes scanned the edges of the landing pad.

“Listen up,” she commanded. “Firstly, shut your pie holes. I know for a fact that you were all given the option to decline this mission, so I am assuming that you are all dying to be shot into space. The second thing, stays within this group, clear?”

The group nodded and cast speculative glances at one another. The reason for the morning run was now obvious. Aymes wanted to be well away from the prying eyes and ears of the bunk rooms.

Typical Aymes. She had her orders, which she would follow to the letter, but she always made sure she explained the mission fully to her unit. “Better to die with your eyes open,” was one of her personal mottos.

“We are here because of a leak,” she explained. “A Centauri Deep Space Exploration white paper was leaked by a whistle-blower, last week, and it seems word has gotten out to the Dianian civilians. The paper came from CDSE legal and relates to the status of the Dianians. Some pen sucking junior lawyer was given the job of checking on their rights. Whether they were classified as human or not. It turns out, two hundred years ago, they were in too much of a hurry building Earth-Net to think about it, so they never bothered to classify them as anything.”

“What’s the difference, Master Sargent?” Pham interjected. “They look human enough.”

“If they can get the Dianians classified as non-human, they will own them just like they will own Earth-Net and Diana. The UN is pushing a bill through to solidify the status of the Dianians but it’s going to take a while. In the meantime, we are there to uphold UN law.”

“Look after the civis, Master Sergeant? Win the hearts and minds?” Phil Myers piped up, winking to his running mate. Phil was a short, swarthy, wiry man renowned for his endurance not only when running but during other physical endeavors as well. Aymes caught the wink and pinned Myers with a glare.

“We are there to uphold UN law, as I said, which could easily mean protecting CDSE personnel from unhappy civilians. There have already been protests about the buyout. It could mean simply wiping the captain’s hairy ass for five years. You … Myers . . . are there to follow orders, just like any fucking mission,” Aymes commanded, eyes boring into his forehead.

“And Myers,” she continued, “this is a no fraternization mission. No fingers up the girls’ skirts, OK?”

Myers, always the joker, couldn’t stop himself. “I’ve heard you don’t need to go anywhere near their skirts.”

Most of the marines snickered nervously. There was plenty of ribald humor regarding Dianian women and the fact that they didn’t need to breath. Handy for certain sex acts that were a particular favorite of the men in the unit.

Joking with Aymes was dangerous territory. It could go either way. Aymes’ heavy, unkempt eyebrows puckered into a deep V. Myers was not lucky today and the snickering died instantly.

“If I see or hear about you with your cock in anybody’s mouth, I will make you suck off every man in this unit, every morning before breakfast. I’ll turn you into a fucking alarm clock…is that clear, Private Myers?”

Myers turned bright red and looked straight ahead clearly regretting his lack of judgment. “Yes, Master Sargent.”

Aymes eyeballed the motley collection before letting her hulking shoulders relax slightly.

“You might think this is going to be some kind of holiday, but I don’t. I don’t know why you all said yes to this mission, but I agreed because Captain Spiranos smells a rat. These CDSE assholes would push their own grandmothers off a cliff to save fifty bucks but they need protection just as much as anybody. When we wake up, we watch each other’s backs and keep our heads on a god damn swivel. If anybody’s junk,” Aymes pointedly looked at Casey Renton, the woman marine most notorious for her sexual exploits,” and I mean anybody’s junk, distracts them from the mission … I’ll fucking cut it off.”

Aymes eyeballed the front few faces in turn, the unit all stared straight ahead looking anywhere but directly at Aymes. Her giant shoulders relaxed the rest of the way and she resumed a regular speaking voice.

“Fielding … get these shit bags back to base and get packed. Don’t let them eat or drink. I’m going to walk back. I’m fucking starving and I want the next four hours gone.” Aymes pivoted and stalked off.

Jonah watch her go. Her short cropped black hair following the curves of her head and hips twisting heavily as her muscular thighs fought to slide past each other. He’d been with Aymes for two years now and still knew almost nothing about her. Except she was as strong as anyone he knew and one of the best unit commanders in the Navy. She kept her people awake, scared, and alive.

Jonah turned back to his troops.

“Alright, you heard the Sargent. Double time back and pack your kit before they freeze our asses.”

Pham fell in beside Jonah, jogging easily. They moved in companionable silence for a while before Jonah broke the ice. “You good?” he asked, noticing the creases in Pham’s forehead.

“Yeah, I think so” he replied. “Aymes is jumpy though. Makes me nervous.”

Jonah nodded. “Why did you agree to this mission?”

Pham shrugged, “For the money, like most of us, I suppose…but, you know…it’ll be pretty cool … first humans out there and all that.”

Jonah nodded again. “I hear that.”

“What about you?” Pham asked.

“Family reasons mainly. Back about seven generations my grandmother, with a bunch of greats in front, was surrogate mother to one of the first Dianians that flew out there. A little girl. It’s a story that’s been passed down. I’ve always wanted to see them … everything about space actually but ‘especially Dianians. I know they aren’t blood relatives or anything, but it would be cool meet some of the descendants of the baby my family had…and for the money of course.”

It was Pham’s turn to nod in agreement. “Good a reason as any.”

They lapsed back into silence and Jonah found himself mirroring Pham’s frown. He’d had had very little time to think seriously about this mission and Aymes reaction had spooked him too. In hindsight, he’d agreed, perhaps a little too quickly. Now that he had more time to think, he realized he was as nervous as all hell.

Dianians were viewed on Earth, almost like fairytale creatures. They interacted with humans all the time, via vid link, managing the nets and stuff. Other than that, Jonah didn’t know much. He suddenly wondered if they even liked humans.

In movies, Dianians were usually portrayed either as saintly martyrs tirelessly saving the human race or as a backward, impressionable alien tribe ripe for exploitation. Jonah wondered what type of welcome they were in for.

One thing was for sure, Aymes warnings about CDSE were not without cause. Jonah more than most was aware that CDSE had a terrible human rights record on Earth. He had seen the impact of their brand of commerce first hand. It caused famine and millions of refugees. More than once he had guarded a gate, stopping one starving group of refugees from getting somewhere that someone else had decided they were not allowed to go.

There was always hope that CDSE had learned from the lessons of the past, but Jonah doubted it.