The Clones of Mawcett (29 page)

“Yes sir. Thank you, sir.”

 “Finally, Captain Gavin has forwarded a commendation for your excellent handling of an extremely difficult and dangerous situation on Mawcett. I've added my approval and forwarded it to Space Command HQ.”

“Thank you, sir. Thank you, Captain.”

“You've been released from the hospital so you're to report back aboard the Prometheus in time for your next duty shift. You're dismissed, Commander.”

“Thank you, sir. Good day, sirs.”

After the doors had closed behind Jenetta, Admiral Holt said, “She doesn't look any the worse for wear.”

“No,” Gavin agreed, “she doesn't. I can't tell you how astonished I was to find her and the entire staff of the archeological camp still alive when I arrived back at Mawcett. I felt sure she'd never leave the scientists to the mercies of the Raiders, but I never imagined she'd find a place to hide them right under the Raider noses.”

“She's amazingly resourceful,” Kanes said. “I felt that she might survive, but I would have put the odds that she could save all the dig site people at about one in ten thousand. They may not have smelled very good after weeks of living in the sewers, but every one of her charges were healthy, except for the Marines injured or killed in early combat. I also expected her to destroy the cloning equipment to prevent it from being of any use to the Raiders, so I was even more surprised that she was able to both dismantle it without destroying any developing life forms and keep it from falling into their hands.”

“Our very young looking Lt. Commander is a remarkable officer,” Holt said, looking at the two captains. “And— now we have three of her.”

* * *

Eliza was waiting for Jenetta outside the Admiral's office when she emerged and they walked together to the BOQ. Locating Eliza's assigned quarters in the junior officer's wing, they sat down to talk in their unique verbal shorthand. The quarters weren't as spacious as Jenetta's aboard the ship, but no one expected a very junior officer's quarters to compete with those of a senior officer. Still, they were more than adequate for one person. The room contained a gel-comfort bed, small circular table with two chairs, computer workstation, sofa, closet, built-in dresser, and attached bath. No pictures or ornaments decorated the light-cream colored walls of the single room or bath, leaving one with the impression of drabness. Even the light-brown wall-to-wall carpeting covering the deck was dull.

“Approve the core?” Eliza asked.

“Yup.”

“Book?”

“Yup.”

“That all?”

“Nope. They approved the medals and commendations. They also gave me another commendation.”

“Staying here?”

“No, I have to be back for my watch tonight so I'll have to leave right after dinner to get a few hours sleep.”

“It'll be strange sleeping alone after sharing your quarters for the past month.”

“I know. For me too.”

They received a lot of double takes later, as they walked together to the officer's mess for dinner, although most people on the base had heard the rumor of the cloning by now. After they'd eaten, Eliza walked with Jenetta back to where the ship was docked and they said good night. They'd already made plans to have dinner together the following day.

Jenetta hurried aboard and was able to get four hours sleep before rising to go on duty.

* * *

“Does anyone wish to review any of the reports again?” Admiral Moore asked of the other nine admirals sitting around the large horseshoe shaped table in the great hall where the Admiralty Board held their regular sessions. His aide and two clerks sat dutifully behind him, as was the case for each of the other admirals, but the gallery seating was empty for this session.

The report from Admiral Holt had just finished playing on the full wall monitor behind him. The admirals had previously viewed reports from Captain Gavin and Captain Kanes, and the debriefing of Lt. Commander Carver.

“Carver again,” Admiral Hubera grumbled. “I thought that we were finally done with her after she received the Tawroole medal from the Nordakians. She was supposed to fade back into the fabric of Space Command. Isn't that what you said, Richard?” he posed to Admiral Moore.

“That was my expectation,” Admiral Moore said.

“And now she's brought us a whole new set of major problems. I have to say one thing about her, she never does things in a small way. When she creates a problem for us, it's always a major crisis.”

“Donald, Commander Carver didn't create this problem,” Admiral Moore said. “I remind you that there were already forty-four clones on Mawcett before the Prometheus even arrived there. Commander Carver not only managed to deactivate the equipment, she disassembled it without damaging it or destroying any developing life forms. That she prevented it from falling into the hands of Raiders, and saved the entire civilian expedition at Loudescott from being captured, killed, or enslaved, is a remarkable achievement.”

“All she did was cower in an underground bunker while our brave Space Marines died on the surface to protect her silly as…”

“Cower?” Admiral Hillaire shouted, jumping up from his seat while loudly and angrily interrupting Hubera's latest tirade. “She was directing the defense of the base from the command post, not cowering. If you'd ever been in action you'd understand the difference.”

Admiral Hubera jumped to his feet as well. “Just because I've never been in battle doesn't mean that I'm ignorant of how a commanding officer should behave!”

“If you knew anything about commanding men and women in battle, you'd  know that it's no longer done from horseback while waving a sword and inviting the enemy to blow your silly head off your shoulders with a cannonball!”

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, please,” Admiral Moore said.

Both men calmed and retook their seats, but continued to glower at one another.

 “Donald,” Admiral Moore said, “your disdain for Commander Carver is well known to the members of this Board. You don't have to ingeminate your position every time her name comes up.”

“That's the problem, Richard. Her name keeps coming up, and coming up, and coming up. Whenever there's a major problem, you can almost depend on finding Carver embroiled in it somewhere.”

“Commander Carver is an exceptional line officer and occupies a critical position in the command hierarchy aboard one of our most powerful battleships. It reasons that she might be involved whenever the Prometheus responds to trouble. She didn't create the problem on Mawcett, and cannot be blamed for any of the events that transpired there. Our job now is to resolve the thorny issue of what to do about the clones.”

“Since the equipment has been dismantled,” Admiral Platt said, “and there will be no further clones, why don't we just officially acknowledge their existence and recommend citizenship be issued on Earth and Nordakia?”

“The Council is discussing the issue and will announce their decision at the appropriate time. Right now I'm referring only to the two clones of Commander Carver. If we make them Space Command officers, people might come to the ridiculous conclusion that we were behind their creation.” Looking quickly at Admiral Bradlee, the Director of SC Intelligence, Admiral Moore said, “Uh, we weren't behind the attack on Commander Carver and the creation of her clones, were we, Roger?”

* * *

There was little for Eliza to do except wait for something to happen. Jenetta had given her a credits card so money wasn't a problem, especially with food, basic clothing, and housing being provided by Space Command. She occupied her days by spending long hours in the base gym, swimming, running, and sharpening her kick boxing skills. Evenings were spent polishing and re-polishing the historical text that she and Jenetta had written.

Called into the hospital twice more to undergo physical and psychological examinations, Eliza passed all with flying colors, just as Jenetta had passed hers.

On the seventh day following the Prometheus' arrival at Higgins, the Mentuhotep arrived. A light destroyer, the Nelson, named after the English admiral Horatio Nelson, mortally wounded at Trafalgar while defeating the Spanish and French fleets, had arrived to take up the newly established duty station over Mawcett and staff the outpost there. The Mentuhotep had been ordered to bring the seventy-seven clones to Higgins. The eleven archeologists chose to come along also, to see that their clones received proper treatment. Space Command made arrangements to house the entire group in the civilian section.

That same day, the Nordakian Queen's cousin, Ambassador Tlekulva, visited Jenetta aboard the Prometheus to make arrangements for the dinner party that Jenetta had agreed to while on Nordakia. He was escorted to a conference room to wait while Jenetta was notified of his presence.

“My Lady,” Ambassador Tlekulva said, holding his closed hand to his chest and bowing his head, “we are honored by your presence. It's indeed fortunate that you have returned when you have. After you graciously agreed to permit us to honor you at a dinner party, we scheduled it for two weeks from this coming weekend. I feared that we would have to cancel when you were diverted to Mawcett, but you've arrived here in time after all. That is, if you can still attend that Saturday?”

“I'm sure that Space Command will release me from my official duties for that evening.”

“Wonderful. Handmaidens will arrive several hours before the beginning of the party to help you prepare.”

“That's not necessary, Mr. Ambassador. I have my Nordakian uniforms and can dress on my own.”

The ambassador looked shocked. “Uniforms? My Lady, this is a State dinner.”

“My Nordakian captain's uniform wouldn't be appropriate?”

“It's surely not my place to tell you how to dress, My Lady.”

“Please, Mr. Ambassador, I'm not schooled in the protocols of State dinners at consulates. I'd like to rely on you for guidance.”

“Very well, My Lady. On Nordakia, your uniform would be fine for a luncheon, but never for a formal dinner. While male officers might wear their dress uniforms at a State dinner, female officers would wear an appropriate gown. The same rules are usually applied to affairs at consulates, as they are considered extensions of the sovereign ground of their home planet. May I inquire after your hair length?”

“I normally keep it tightly rolled up while on duty, as required by Space Command regulations, but my hair is still an appropriate length.”

The ambassador smiled. “Thank you, My Lady. Will you have an escort for the dinner, or shall I arrange for one?”

“I have a friend whom I believe will escort me.”

“Very good, My Lady. Thank you so much for seeing me, and thank you for bestowing this honor on our consulate here.”

“It's my pleasure, Mr. Ambassador.”

Holding out a holo-tube, he said, “Here's a copy of the list of guests that have been invited, My Lady.”

Jenetta activated the tube and looked over the list, nodding at the names she saw there. “May I ask a favor?”

“Anything, My Lady.”

“I'd like to invite my sister to the dinner party.”

“Of course, My Lady. We'd be most honored to have her attend. I wasn't aware that you had a sister here or I would have included her on the guest list.”

“Eliza came with us from Mawcett.”

“Oh? Oh–– you mean the clone.”

“I prefer to think of her as my sister. Is there a problem?”