Authors: Thomas DePrima
"Hello, I'm Gregory, the proprietor of this restaurant," he said as he reached the table. "Did you enjoy your meals?" he asked. To which everyone at the table praised the food and service in the most enthusiastic of terms.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it; the cook made an extra special effort for you. We're happy to have served Ensign Carver and her friends from the Vordoth in celebration of her acquittal today. Today's meal is courtesy of the restaurant. I hope you'll all come back again."
Jenetta was amazed that the proprietor recognized them, but dismissed it and said, "I'll certainly be back again, if I'm posted here for a while. Thank you very much, Gregory."
"You're welcome, Ensign. Good luck at your new posting and I'll look forward to serving you again." There was something in the way that he said it that made Jenetta wonder if he knew where she was to be posted. She was tempted to ask, but resisted the urge because a restaurateur couldn't possibly have such information.
As they left the restaurant, the cheerful party turned towards the shopping concourse, but they hadn't gone more than a dozens steps before the mob of newsies that had been scouring the station for them converged on their group from every direction. They hurried to another lift tube as Charley and Gunny again blocked the shouting nuisances from getting to Jenetta.
Inside the lift, they enjoyed a respite from the yelling while the car dropped to the transport level where a shuttle from the Vordoth waited. Twenty minutes later, they were all on their way to the ship, now barren of any cargo container link-sections. The laser array sections were still attached to the main ship though, easily making it the meanest looking civilian ship in the port.
"The company has given us special permission," Gloria said, "to leave the array sections in the configuration that you set up, and we'll keep them as long as there's a threat from Raiders, or Space Command again restricts private ships from mounting exterior weapons. They're delighted with the tug and shuttles that you gave us, by the way, and they're even letting us keep one of the shuttles. They've sold the other one to replace the containers and cargo. Charley picked the best one for us. It's neither the biggest, nor the newest, but it's in the best condition."
"How about you? Are you to be the new captain?"
"No, a new captain will be joining us before we leave here. But I'm not unhappy about that, since I still have a lot to learn. And they've promoted me to Lieutenant Commander, effective with the beginning of the new month, so I'll probably be the first officer on our next trip. We shouldn't have any trouble filling out the crew with the Raiders gone."
"Congratulations, Commander."
"Thank you, Captain."
"Ensign."
"Captain. It'll always be Captain to me, Jen. At least until you make Admiral."
Jenetta laughed. "That won't be for a very, very, very long time."
"But it will happen. I just know it."
"Thanks, Gloria. And thanks for being such a great friend."
"Likewise, Jen."
* * *
"I trust all of you have been watching the Ensign Jenetta Carver court-martial with the same high degree of interest as myself," Admiral Richard Moore said to the other members of the Admiralty Board during a regularly scheduled meeting in the Admiralty Hall at Supreme Headquarters on Earth. "I understand that it's been the most popular live event broadcast in the history of military vid broadcasts, playing to SRO audiences in all locations."
"
I've
certainly been watching," Admiral Evelyn Platt said. "The details of her battle tactics, enemy base infiltration, capture, treatment, and escape have been fascinating. I haven't missed a minute of the broadcasts, recording any parts I couldn't watch live so I could view them later."
"I've heard that activity aboard every ship, and on almost every base, has practically ground to a standstill whenever the daily broadcast signal was received, until the broadcast ended," Admiral Roger Bradlee said.
"The audacity and successes of this young girl has been awe-inspiring to an officer corps too long without significant victory against the Raiders," Admiral Raihana Ahmed said.
"Not just the officer corps," Admiral Raymond Burke said. "The ratings and noncoms have been rooting and cheering for her since the first minute the court-martial began. You'd think that she was fighting to have all ship and base messes roll back the clock to the days when the British Empire ruled the seas and provided free beer with every meal."
"The court-martial seems to have had a significantly greater impact than we foresaw," Admiral Loretta Plimley said.
"I believe that the issue of the 18,000 deaths aboard the Raider base, and the destruction of the destroyer and cruiser she fought have been adequately explained— and accepted," Admiral Arnold Hillaire commented.
"We certainly can't be accused of being too soft on our own in
this
case," Admiral Bradlee said. "In fact, many people have privately commented to me that we were being far too severe with the girl."
"Carver certainly garnered a lot of sympathy among the media," Admiral Lon Woo said, "but I think most everyone is satisfied with the outcome of the court-martial."
"Of course they were sympathetic," Admiral Donald Hubera said. "They saw us as bullying a young, pretty, defenseless girl that we had missed finding when we looked for Hokyuu survivors. They felt that we screwed up and were only trying to shift attention away from our failings."
"We did screw up by not finding her," Admiral Plimley said. "On that point, they're absolutely correct. As a result of our examination of her pod, certain modifications in design and retrofit are being discussed that will prevent such problems in the future. We want to insure that we
never
lose an-other officer or crewmember in such a manner.
"We're left with the thorny issue of what to do with this young ensign now," Admiral Moore said.
"Not so young," Admiral Shana Ressler said. "She looks young, because we failed to find her escape pod after the explosion of the Hokyuu, but she's been left seriously behind by her classmates, most of whom have advanced to Lieutenant during the past eleven years, and one has made Lieutenant Commander."
"Ensign Carver has had a great deal of attention turned her way as a result of the court-martial," Admiral Raymond Burke said. "It seems to me that we must either reward her substantially, or bury her so deep, in some totally obscure job, that her name, face, and actions will be quickly forgotten and rarely, if ever, mentioned again."
* * *
Jenetta was delighted to be able to spend two days with her friends on the Vordoth. It was a wonderfully relaxing time where she was able to totally unwind and temporarily forget both the depression of being closeted in the station's brig and the despair of possible consequences from the general court-martial. Rebecca was rarely seen without Charley when they weren't on duty and Gunny seemed thoroughly infatuated with Leah. It appeared that Leah had finally developed a mutual attraction with a man taller than herself, and she couldn't stop staring at him with adoring eyes. The group of friends dined together each night and then talked or listened to music in the officer's lounge. Now that Jenetta was just an ensign again, and free of all command responsibilities, she longed to take a few wide-open throttle rides on a maglev sled, but without a cargo, there was no tunnel through which to travel. Life was just so unfair at times.
On the morning of the third day, Gloria dropped Jenetta off at the orbiting Space Command station so she could report for duty. Jenetta was directed first to the paymaster's office, where she spent about an hour while records were checked and updated. Before she left, her Space Command credits card was adjusted with back pay and compensation for the personal items she had lost when the Hokyuu was destroyed. She received a full year's pay for the months she'd been awake before and since the stasis sleep, and almost three years pay for the ten and half years she had spent in the stasis chamber. She felt rich. Next, she was directed to personnel, where she filled out more forms and picked up her new orders, before being re-directed to housing. The housing officer arranged for quarters in the BOQ and told her to report next to the hospital, but before leaving the housing office, she was permitted to use a com station so she could check her orders.
Touching the data ring to a media drawer spindle, she learned that she'd been assigned to the base's science office. She'd been hoping for an assignment to a ship—
any
ship. As a sickly feeling developed in the pit of her stomach, extreme depression set in. Her adventure was over. Her days of traveling through space at faster than light speeds were over. Other than a biennial trip home, she might never again set foot inside a ship from now until her retirement from Space Command, unless she resigned her commission and sought a position with a freight company. "And no one even thanked me for returning the two battleships," she said aloud to herself. "Maybe I
should
resign."
Although she'd received only four and a half years pay for the eleven and a half years of time since her graduation from NHSA, her service records indicated that she was being credited with the full term for seniority and retirement purposes. That should mean that the Academy's ‘ten years of service' requirement for her education was officially satisfied. If true, she could resign her commission at any time, but she would have to confirm that before she applied for separation.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
~ February 13
th
, 2268 ~
Aware that her facial expression probably mirrored her mood, Jenetta set her jaw and tried to wipe away all sign of melancholy before leaving the housing office.
At the hospital, she was told to wait until Doctor Freidlander was free. She took a seat and waited for about twenty minutes until a nurse came to escort her to the examination room where the doctor was waiting.
"More testing, doctor?"
"I want to see if there have been any further changes during the past few weeks."
Doctor Freidlander spent about an hour performing various tests before sharing his findings with Jenetta.
"You've grown half an inch since you first reported here. That's extraordinary. I can't doubt any longer that you were subjected to some medical procedure that's causing you to change. Furthermore, your body seems to be working overtime to complete the changes, as well as repairing any damage at an unprecedented rate. Are you eating well?"
"Yes. I always seem to be hungry, though."
"That will probably change once your body stops growing. Right now, it needs the nourishment to fuel the rapid changes, so you should have the appetite of a teenager. Enjoy it while it lasts."
"Enjoy hunger?"
Dr. Freidlander gave her a lopsided smile. "Enjoy being able to eat like a teenager again without worrying about the food winding up on your hips."
"Do you think my face will change very much? Arneu said that in a couple of years, even my own mother may not recognize me."
"Your appearance is changing, but we don't believe that the changes will be so extreme that people who have known you won't recognize you once they understand the reason for the change. And as a result of the court-martial, it's unlikely that anyone won't be aware of those reasons. Your height will be the most radical of the alterations, but we have your new DNA on file now, so we'll be able to identify you should your retinal images and fingerprints change further."
"That's comforting, but can't you do something to stop the changes?"
"No, nothing I'm afraid. First, I don't know what process was used, and second, all that research was ended long ago. We still use DNA information for identification and as part of the health diagnosis procedure, but no DNA alteration testing is permitted. I'd
love
to know how your body has been programmed to repair itself so remarkably, but even that kind of research is forbidden."
"So I'm stuck with whatever they've programmed me to become?"
"I'm afraid so. I can show you what our computer thinks you'll look like when the changes are complete, based on the DNA in your new cells. Would you like to see that?"
"Very much."
The doctor keyed in a few commands and the viewscreen displayed the naked, three-dimensional representation of a woman, revolving slowly so that it could be seen from all views. The height lines behind the body showed it to be just over five-foot eleven-inches tall. The body was perfectly proportional for the height, and the skin appeared flawless, without so much as a single freckle or blemish.
"Is that me?"
"As we believe you'll appear when the changes are complete."
"It's terrible! Look at the size of my breasts! They're at least a full cup size larger. How will I be able to run with a chest like that? And the size of my hips makes me look like a freak. The face isn't too bad, it still sorta looks like me, but why do you show it with makeup?"
"That's not makeup. It's the natural pigmentation programmed into the DNA. You won't have to use makeup unless you want to highlight the effect, or reduce it."
"So this is Arneu's idea of a goddess?"
"Not just him. The men in the genetics lab have all fallen in love with the image."
"I don't think that I'm going to like being changed to look like that. Can I be surgically altered to reduce the size of my breasts and hips?"
"Of course, once the changes are complete."
"How long will that take."
"As you're aware, all the cells in the body, even bone cells, eventually die and are replaced. That takes about eight to ten years. So once the DNA is completely rewritten, you can be altered."
"Ten years? Well I guess that's not much when compared to five thousand."
"Ensign?"
"Nothing sir, just a little inside joke. What about my chest."
"Did you notice the model?"
"I saw that you included the imprint on the model. Extremely accurate detailing, but when can I get it removed."
"You can't. It's been permanently imprinted into the pigmentation of your chest as programmed in your DNA. We can kill the pigmentation, leaving a white sign instead of a magenta one, but we think that your body will just replace it again because of the changes that are still occurring. We might try grafting new skin over the top."
"I wouldn't want a new white sign to replace the old magenta one anyway, so I'll go with the skin graft."
"We'll start growing the new skin immediately. It should be ready to transfer in about four to six weeks. We just need to get a small sample of your skin before you leave, to start the culture."
"Okay, doctor."
"I'm still amazed how quickly your scalp healed where we removed the bone cell sample. There's not a single mark that indicates the procedure was ever performed. Remarkable."
"Yes, thank you doctor. That was excellent work."
"Don't thank me; your body did all the healing. I'm just amazed at how quickly it did it."
"I'm a fast healer. As I told you, my arm knitted in a week and was completely healed in twelve days."
"Yes, I read Doctor Erikson's report. That was amazing also."
"I'm just a fast healer."
"Even for a fast healer, that's really amazing. With surgical nano-bot assistance, it should have taken at least six to seven weeks for that bone to knit completely. And there's absolutely no evidence that the bone was ever broken.
That's
unheard of."
"Arneu said that the procedure they used on me would make me heal ten times faster than average people. It was important for the new life that they intended for me. I guess whip marks would heal overnight."
"Whip marks?" the doctor said in surprise.
"I was slated to be a pleasure slave in one of the kinkier resorts; a submissive who loved masochism. You know, the ‘whip me, beat me' crowd."
"I can see where a speedy rate of recovery would be beneficial in that kind of occupation."
"Yes, well, my programming was useful when we took over the Prometheus. My arm was broken during the assault and the pain just made me stronger, so instead of being down for the count, I was able to continue on and do what had to be done."
"I see," the doctor said with a strange expression on his face. "I think that you should be interviewed by the Psych department this week. You would have been called in anyway during the next couple of months for your annual evaluation when a time could be scheduled, but I think what you've just told me makes it a priority."
"Okay, doctor."
After removing a skin sample from the underside of Jenetta's arm, the doctor sprayed on a bandage. "There, Ensign," he said, "you're all set. You can report to your new duty posting now. The Psych department will call with your appointment information. Stop back here every couple of days to have the dressing under your arm changed until it heals."
"Thank you, doctor."
Jenetta's first stop, upon leaving the hospital, was the officer's mess hall. It was noon and she wanted the fortification of a full stomach before reporting for duty in the science section. She picked up a tray and silverware before walking along the food self-service counters where she chose a large chef's salad, both hot entrées of chicken and meatloaf, and heaping sides of corn on the cob, mashed potatoes, green beans, rice pilaf, potato salad cup, and two Golden Delicious apples. The food was fresh here. There were food synthesizers available for anyone who might want to use them, but during meal service hours they were normally only used to make rich creamy deserts that looked and tasted like the real thing, but which contained no more than a half dozen calories. Looking around, she spotted an empty table and headed for it. As she prepared to eat, she took out a printed transcript of her orders and read it over thoroughly.
"Excuse me, is that seat available?" a familiar voice asked from behind.
"Yes, it is," Jenetta said without turning around. "Please join me, Commander."
Spence walked around the table and put his tray down so he'd be facing Jenetta.
Jenetta followed his eyes down to the food arrayed before her and smiled. "I'm still a growing girl and I'm a little hungry today."
He nodded and grinned, saying, "I thought you might be expecting two or three other people. How have you been doing, Ensign?"
Jenetta looked up into his penetrating cobalt-blue eyes and said, "Very well, sir, thanks to you."
"I'm happy that I could help. You didn't deserve to be treated like that, and I still can't fathom why they went after you in that way. The evidence against a conviction seemed so overwhelming to me, although I didn't want to give you false hope in case I was wrong."
"Well, it's all behind us now and I can get on with my life."
"What ship have you been assigned to?"
"No ship," Jenetta said dejectedly. "I've been assigned to the Science Section on the base."
"I take it that's far from what you were hoping for."
"It's not even close. I was hoping to be assigned to a ship, even if it was only another supply ship, and even if I was again the only science officer aboard."
"Don't give up hope, it could still happen. Maybe they just don't have any posts open right now."
"Maybe," Jenetta said in a kind of sigh.
Jenetta and Spence spent the rest of the meal talking about the court-martial and the verdict. As the time approached 1230, Spence announced that he had to leave for an appointment. Before going he asked, "Do you think you'd like to have dinner with me sometime this week?"
"Sure, I'll probably be here every night around 1730 hours."
"No, I mean at a real restaurant," Spence said as he placed his large hand on hers and squeezed lightly.
It felt as if a current of electricity had run up Jenetta's arm, but she kept her voice under control. "Oh— sure. When?"
"How about Friday?"
"Great. What time, Commander?"
"1900 hours?"
"Okay. I'll meet you in the lobby of the BOQ at 1900 hours, four days from now."
"I'll be looking forward to it, Ensign. See you then."
She watched Spence's tall figure as he walked away, expecting him to look back, but he never did. She raised her eyebrows and wrinkled her brow as she thought about running her fingers through his blond hair, then polished off her lunch and left to report to her new posting.
The Science Section occupied a significant portion of the office space in the wing where it was located, and Jenetta walked through a dozen corridors before finding the room referenced in her orders. She took a deep breath, then stepped into the area where the computer would acknowledge her desire to enter and activate the door opening mechanism. An officer whom she estimated to be in his late fifties or early sixties, sat working alone at a long table filled with papers and graphs.
"Ensign Jenetta Carver reporting for duty, Commander," she said as she came to attention in front of him.
Lt. Commander Wilfred Davis stopped what he was doing and looked up. "Welcome, Ensign," he said. He had the look of an academician who was more at home in a sea of books or charts, or standing before a class of unlearned students, than performing the duties of a commanding officer of Space Command personnel, even if this was just the Science Section. "Your orders, please?" he said.
Jenetta handed over the data ring and waited while Lt. Commander Davis viewed and verified the message.
"Alright, Ensign. Welcome to Higgins Space Station by the way."
"Thank you, sir."
"You've been away from astrophysics for a while so you'll have quite a bit of catching up to do. We've collected a tremendous amount of new data since you graduated from the Academy. It's been a wonderfully exciting eleven years!"
"Yes sir. I'm looking forward to catching up on everything I missed," Jenetta said, with as much enthusiasm as she could possibly muster.
"Marvelous. I'm going to assign you to my most dedicated researcher. You'll have remarkable opportunities to help advance our knowledge of the universe under her expert direction. Follow me."
With Jenetta following, Davis led the way to an astrophysics lab down the corridor from his office where an auburn-haired officer was working intently on her computer. The nameplate on the desk identified her as Lieutenant Margaret Kesliski.
"Lieutenant, this is Ensign Carver. I'm assigning her to your section." Turning to Jenetta, Davis said, "Carry on, Ensign."
"Yes sir."
Kesliski, whom Jenetta estimated to be between twenty-eight and thirty, stood up and said icily, "Follow me, Carver."
Jenetta fell in behind the thin, five-foot eight-inch Science Officer who looked and acted every inch the part of a researcher who preferred to do her own work and never be bothered by other people. As they reached a science console near the back of the room, Kesliski said, "This will be your station. I'll get your computer access set up, and then you can begin."
"Er— begin what, Lieutenant?"
Kesliski let out a quick breath, finally showing her displeasure with having been disturbed. "Whatever you're assigned, Ensign. To start with, we have a lot of new data on a globular cluster that has to be analyzed. A couple of the stars seem to have intensified significantly, of late."
"Okay, Lieutenant," Jenetta said, less than enthusiastically.
Kesliski, picking up on the subtle tone of dejection in Jenetta's voice, said, "I know that it isn't as exciting as fighting Raiders, but it's important work. I would hope that you can muster a little more enthusiasm in the months and years ahead."