A Galaxy Unknown (35 page)

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Authors: Thomas DePrima

BOOK: A Galaxy Unknown
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"No doubt, Lieutenant."

Kesliski grimaced ever so slightly to a remark that could be interpreted a couple of different ways. As she walked away, she said, "Carry on, Ensign."

"Aye, Lieutenant."

Jenetta glanced around the room before taking a seat at her new desk. She knew the ultimate in dead end jobs when she saw it. Maybe in twenty-five or thirty years she would be promoted to replace Lieutenant Kesliski when Kesliski moved up to replace a retiring Lt. Commander Davis. Kesliski would probably remain at that rank until she reached mandatory retirement age of eighty-five, and she would be perfectly content as long as she had her work.

Arriving at her new quarters in the BOQ that evening, Jenetta found her personal possessions already there. They had been delivered from wherever SCI had stored them while she was in the brig. Perhaps they had simply been left on the Prometheus, but most likely Space Command Intelligence had examined every last item under an electron microscope. She wondered what they thought when they played her personal log ring. She didn't doubt for a second that they would have been able to get past the encryption technique she had used, but it had probably taken them more than a few days to crack. The simple encryption block was of her own design, and the password required appending the date of the most recent entry in reverse order.

When her things had been stowed, and the picture of her family resided prominently on her dresser, she logged into the base-net and discovered that she had a message from home waiting. It was just what she needed to help her forget the disappointments of the day. She touched the ‘Play' button and watched as the screen lit up with an image of her Mom's face.

"Hi Sweetheart. I can't begin to tell you how wonderful it was to get word that you were alive and safe. When I learned of your survival, I couldn't stop crying for days. I cried almost as much as when you were lost, but these were tears of joy. I want so much to throw my arms around you and hug you as hard as I can, but— that will have to wait until you come home. I tried to get in touch with you immediately, but they told me that you couldn't receive messages. Then, when we learned about the court-martial, we became worried again. You haven't been out of the news here in weeks. I can't go anywhere without seeing your face, but— it's kind of nice; it tells me that you're still safe. I'm glad you were acquitted of all those charges; I knew that you would be. We raised you right and you certainly couldn't have done any of the terrible things they accused you of.

"You probably want to know what's been happening for the past eleven years, so I'll try to squeeze in as much as I can while time permits. Your brothers are all off world right now. Billy just made Commander last month, Richie is a Lieutenant Commander, as of two years ago, and Andy and Jimmy are Lieutenants, hoping for promotions to Lieutenant Commander. They're all doing well and they'll probably be sending their own messages because I sent them a copy of the message that you sent me. You missed Daddy's retirement party last year. He was the captain of a frigate when he reached mandatory ‘shipboard' retirement age of sixty-five. They offered him a desk job and he could have stayed on for another twenty years, and possibly made admiral, but he didn't want to be in the service if he couldn't be in space. His ship had a chance encounter with a Raider cruiser the year before he retired, but the Raiders managed to get away after they exchanged a few shots.

"The timer just went off so I have to sign off. Daddy is going to compose his own message to you and send it tomorrow. We love you, honey. Take care of yourself."

The message ended and Jenetta played it three more times. It made her both happy and sad. Happy because she was so delighted to hear from her mother, but sad because her mother looked so old. She could never recapture those eleven years, even if she lived to be five thousand. Where the receipt of the message had originally lifted her spirits, this reflection left her feeling more depressed than ever. Almost as depressing was the news that her brothers were doing so well. While they were moving up in rank and position, she was stuck at ensign, with little likelihood of advancement anytime soon.

* * *

On Tuesday morning, Jenetta received a call from the Psych department at the hospital, informing her that she had an appointment for Wednesday morning. As soon as she was off the com link, she went to Lieutenant Kesliski to notify her that she would be late the following morning.

"They probably want to learn how you could slaughter more than 18,000 people. I'm surprised they've waited until now to look inside your head. "

"I was acquitted on that charge, Lieutenant," Jenetta said defensively. She bit her tongue to avoid saying anything more on the subject.

"It still happened, and you're still responsible for their deaths, even if they're not going to lock you up and throw away the key for doing it. I'm opposed to killing of any sort. You should have just reported back to Space Command instead of trying to be a big hero."

Jenetta continued to repress her resentment and simply replied with, "Yes, Lieutenant. Whatever you say, ma'am."

Aware that Jenetta wasn't going to take the bait and become insubordinate, Lieutenant Kesliski scowled at her. "Carry on, Ensign."

Jenetta had another message waiting when she got back to the BOQ that evening. This one was from her dad.

"Hi Honey. Gee, it was
great
to hear from you. It's so wonderful that you're alive, and I'm so proud of you that I could bust. I've been spending every minute possible watching the news on the vid, since most of it has been about you for the past four weeks. I pulled some strings and got into the theater on the base while they were broadcasting the court-martial here. It was only being shown live to senior officers since so many wanted to attend, but they recorded it and ran replays around the clock for junior officers and enlisted personnel. It's replaying again, in its entirety, for those that couldn't get in before. It hasn't been released to the general public yet, but your brothers have seen it because it was transmitted on an encrypted military channel that was picked up by their ships, and then rebroadcast throughout the vessel."

Jenetta sat up straighter, her eyes wide and mouth agape. They had broadcast the entire court-martial? To everyone in the military? Everywhere?

"I was plenty disturbed hearing about the things they put you through in the Raider detention center, and I'm glad that you made the bastards pay. I loved watching the Vordoth image log records of your attacks on the two Raider warships. Congratulations on two stunning victories. And you should have heard the cheers in the theater when they showed the Prometheus' image log of the Raider spaceport blowing up. I was screaming at the top of my lungs, trying to get them to shut up so that I could hear every word of testimony. They finally calmed down and I discovered that we didn't miss anything. I know how proud you must have felt, having conceived the plan, planted the explosives, and actually been there when it happened.

"Oops, there's the timer. I have to go for now, honey. Take care of yourself and give'em hell. I love you."

Jenetta was too disturbed to replay the message right away. She'd never suspected for a second that every military ship and base in Galactic Alliance space had seen the entire court-martial. Every armchair quarterback in Space Command would now be critiquing her tactics as if she'd been commanding a warship instead of a freighter. Thank God she'd been acquitted of all charges. She wondered if they had been broadcasting when she was led into the courtroom wearing the prisoner transport restraints. Even worse, Commander Pierce had grilled her repeatedly when she testified about being suspended from the holding bar in the anteroom while clad only in her underwear. That would be an image that everyone would carry in their head for years. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach. It will take years, decades perhaps, to live that down. As for the rest, she certainly wasn't going to have much of an opportunity to ‘give'em hell' while flying a desk in a back office of the Science Section.

Reporting to the hospital the next morning as ordered, Jenetta was immediately escorted into the office of Doctor Praeges. Though decorated with contemporary office furniture, the walls were lined with art from the cosmic grab bag of an eclectic collector. Every major period seemed to be represented.

"Sit down, Ensign," the short, thin psychiatrist, very close to the mandatory retirement age of eighty-five, said before smiling warmly and gesturing towards a comfortable chair opposite his desk.

"Yes sir."

"Doctor Freidlander has talked with me about you. Of course I know of your exploits, as do most other people, but I hadn't heard that you'd been programmed. What do you remember about that?"

"Not much, sir. I was just taken to a section of the medical facility and put into a special chair like a recliner. Straps were used on my arms to hold me there, and an adhesive strip with a number of wires attached to it was put on my forehead. All I remember after that is hearing soothing music."

"No injections?"

"There could have been; I don't know. The next thing I remember is being awakened and taken back to my cell."

The doctor looked at Jenetta thoughtfully for several minutes. Jenetta was starting to squirm a little from his dispassionate stare when he asked, "What music were they playing?"

"It sounded like Vivaldi's Four Seasons, the Summer movement."

The doctor turned to his computer and typed a few commands. A few seconds later, the Summer movement started playing through a speaker in the ceiling. "Like this?"

"Yes, this is it, sir."

The doctor nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, Ensign. Let's take a walk."

Jenetta followed the doctor down the corridor to another room where there was a recliner similar to the one she'd been placed into at the Raider medical lab.

"Take a seat, Ensign."

Jenetta sat down as instructed, but when the doctor attempted to put a strap on her right arm, she recoiled away from him.

"Simulating the exact situation that you experienced will help your mind recreate the event. It will assist our efforts in finding out what they did to you."

"Oh— okay, doctor."

Secured to the chair, as she'd been secured in the detention center medical lab, the doctor put a plastic adhesive strip with attached wires on her forehead. He tapped a couple of keys on a command console and she heard the Summer movement playing. She didn't remember anything after that until the plastic strip was being peeled off. The wall clock indicated that it was almost noon. More than three hours had passed since she climbed into the chair.

"What happened?"

"I simulated the conditions that you told me about and then used our equipment to put you under. It's a fairly simple and common procedure. I gambled that it was the same one used on you. They never expected you to escape from their control, so they didn't make it very elaborate."

"What did you learn?"

"I found out that they fed you a lot of instructions about pleasing men and women, sexually. Fortunately, nothing that would violate Space Command security. They really did intend for you to become a pleasure slave, and so never attempted to affect your loyalties. I neutralized as much as I could, and you probably won't beg anyone to beat or whip you when you get sexually aroused, unless you wanted that before. And you won't feel any lesbian urges unless you leaned towards that. I only attempted to neutralize what they added; I didn't try to modify your original behavior."

"Then I'm finished here?"

"For now. I want you to come back and see me if you begin to experience any strange dreams, fantasies, or desires; especially of a sexual nature. The mind is a complex instrument, and although I instructed you to forget their programming, the mind doesn't really forget, it just sort of— bypasses it. Some of it could resurface again in time, if it's triggered by some special memory or activity."

"Okay, doctor. Thank you."

After leaving the Psych department offices, Jenetta went to see about having the dressing under her arm changed. A nurse escorted her to an examination room where she was asked to remove her tunic and blouse. As she disrobed, the slave imprint received no more than a cursory glance from the nurse. ‘
By now, the entire hospital has probably seen pictures of it,
' Jenetta thought sardonically.
‘In fact, they're probably selling 20x30 centimeter color glossies in the hospital gift store, or perhaps giving one away with every purchase over five credits.'

Removing the old bandage, the nurse said, "What is this? There's no open wound under this gauze."

Jenetta felt the area and discovered that there wasn't any tenderness at all. Holding up a hand mirror, all she saw was a slightly red area. "I guess that it healed. Doctor Freidlander took a small skin sample the other day."

"Well you certainly don't need further dressings, Ensign. The redness should disappear in a few days. You won't need to come back for it."

"Okay, Lieutenant, thanks," Jenetta said smiling. She left the base hospital after getting dressed.

By now, Jenetta was getting used to all the attention. As an ensign, it was her duty to salute senior officers that she encountered, and hold that salute until they returned it or passed her by. But she found herself in the unique situation of being saluted by the senior officers first, and returning their salute. Many noncoms and ratings that she encountered would actually stop, step aside, and snap to attention, holding their salute until she returned it, as if she was an admiral. Her face was still being splashed across the media constantly, but it was beginning to be a bit irksome. It only served to remind her that her adventures were over and how much she was going to miss her time aboard the Prometheus.

It was close to noon so she decided to have lunch at the officer's mess before reporting to work. Despite the smiles and admiring looks that she received from everyone, no one invited her join them at their table. She ate alone, then carried her dessert, two enormous navel oranges, back to the science section with the intention of eating them later in the afternoon when the hunger got so bad she couldn't wait for dinner.

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