The Legacy of Earth (Mandate Book 2) (9 page)

“So,” Daniel said, “we don’t even know what we don’t know, because the blueprints were altered.”

“Classic radio still works. We just don’t have anyone to talk to on Earth or Mars,” Deeptimoy said.

“I still find that hard to believe,” Andy said.

“Wait a minute,” Megumi said, “shouldn’t we be able to talk to Earth with radio?”

“Sure,” Deeptimoy said, “That’s no problem. Except, we were using hypercomm for nearly a decade so the old radios were—”

“Abandoned,” Andy offered.

“That’s my guess,” Deeptimoy said. “I mean, think about it,
we
don’t know what frequency anyone back home—er, back on Earth—is using today. Shouldn’t be a problem, just scan the frequencies. Except—”

“There’s nothing?” Tom suggested.

“Not to mention, encryption keys,” Daniel added.

“That’s probably the
main
reason rather than an additional point,” Andy said.

“Why can’t we broadcast across—”

“Wait a minute!” Chase said. “
We
had hypercomm, but no one else on Earth had it. Shouldn’t they still be using radio?”

“Erik Smirnov had his prototype,” Megumi said.

“Look, sorry to interrupt,” Daniel said, “but we’ve been through all this . . .
years ago
! We monitor all frequencies even now. But, Decatur handled all communication and encryption for us. We became so dependent on the AI that we became hopelessly dependent. It’s why we haven’t built another spacecraft after the colony ship.”

“Yeah,” Chase said, “and we have no idea what became of her, either.”

“I remember, a few months after we arrived,” Megumi said. “What can we assume from that? All we know for sure is that the ship stopped transmitting when it arrived at Earth. The ship might still be in Earth orbit.”

“Look, we have more than enough resources,” Chase said, “plus the manufacturing capacity. Our emphasis has been on colony growth and stability. We have achieved that. But, something is amiss, and we need to get to the bottom of it. We have allowed this mystery to remain unsolved for far too long. I say we build another ship and go find out what’s going on.”

“And look in on the Mars colony while we’re at it,” Megumi added.

“Yes! That’s right, Meg, we need to go find out what’s going on,” Tom said. “I, for one, am tired of feeling left in the dark out here, incommunicado.”

“We have done well for ourselves here,” Andy said, “but the loss of Decatur was a terrible blow. We’ve had to start over from scratch with some of the machines. We’re making progress again after the setback, but it was a blow.”

“No one is pointing any fingers,” Chase said in a fatherly tone. “We have done exceptionally well here. You should be proud of your accomplishments. But, we have been insular, not really trying to reach anyone. Let’s not forget, we have massive capacity here that’s totally underutilized. We have done far better than any of us could have imagined, and the Ring is mind boggling. Frankly, no one will believe it and photos are too easy to simulate. Let’s get this new ship underway as soon as possible and—among other things—see if anyone back on Earth wants to join us out here.”

Daniel said, “Look, we keep having these . . . unofficial policy meetings on behalf of the colony, but it’s quite fascist.”

“Hey!” Megumi said, with others mirroring her tone.

“Hang on!
Hear me out
,” Daniel said. “I was going to add, ‘were it not
us
making the decisions.’ We can’t keep doing this ‘for the good of the colony’ justification for elite rule.”

“Dan, come
on
, it’s just us here, and we’ve been trying to survive, and no one in the colony has ever complained about frontier justice,” Deeptimoy said.

“Granted, we have a good legal system, but that only works because we’re a small colony,” Chase said. “It won’t always be
just us
. We need to set up a real government.”

“I don’t like it, but he’s right,” Tom said.

“I’m going to have a talk with Jack today to discuss the need for a constitution and a parliament—or whatever the constitutional convention decides on,” Chase said.

“Don’t we have enough on our plate right now without introducing politics?” Andy suggested.

“It must be done,” Chase said, and that was that.

“Jack, I need to talk to you,” Chase said from behind Jack on a faux hardwood balcony looking over Harmony Lake under the dome.

“Sure, have a seat,” Jack told him. “You know, I was proud when we made this lake. Or, pond, really, but it’s impressive nonetheless.

“Chase, dear, nice day for a drink over the pond,” a cheerful woman said a moment later. “What’ll you have? I’ll bring you another, Jack.”

“Fine, thanks, Bev,” Jack said without looking up.

“Hi, Beverly. It is a lovely day. How’s Ward doing?”

“Ward is fine, dear; working the blunt edge again.”

“I’ll have a dry martini,” Chase said, still amazed that he could order such a drink. They had been limited to plain water, tea, and coffee for so many years. “The blunt edge, you say? Which side?”

“South side, he said. I haven’t been over in a while,” Beverly said. “Be right back, gents.”

“Know what I miss the most from Earth?” Jack asked.

“What’s that?” Chase said.

“Movies. Books. Music.”

“Huh? We have the entire library—”

“I know,” Jack interrupted quickly, “I’m talking about new works of art. I miss that.”

Chase looked thoughtful. “The media library is so large from the past century that no one could go through all of it. But I know what you mean.”

“I used to go to the movie theater often, back on Earth,” he said, jerking a thumb as if Earth was behind him. “Before they all closed down.” Then, eyes bright, he suddenly turned to Chase, “We should
build one!
A real theater with a huge screen and seating, and even popcorn!”

Chase laughed. “That’s not a bad idea. Everyone just uses tablets now.”

“I know, and it doesn’t begin to compare to the big-screen experience. I don’t know how you can enjoy a show on a tablet.”

“I’ll mention it at the next council meeting. They’re always in favor of team-building activities or anything that might improve morale. Which hasn’t been so great lately, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I like this place,” Jack said, ignoring the last remark. “It’s the closest thing we’ve got to a real beach. Wonder if we could fill in a smaller crater out there with water? Make a real lake. Get some fish next time we’re back at Earth.”

Chase looked out at the pond and frowned. “Speaking of which . . . Jack, we need to talk. The
council
has been discussing our future.”

Jack grunted but didn’t look up. Instead, he finished off his drink. “Okay, talk.”

“Uh, okay, the—”

“Here you go, boys,” Beverly said while setting their drinks on the table. She quickly left, sensing their need for private conversation.

“. . . the council wants to go public, create a legitimate colony government. They’re concerned about
you
, Jack. But also about
ourselves
. We can’t treat this like a . . . a
claim
or small town. Not forever. They want a constitutional convention to draft something up.”

“Oh? That’s good. Wise decision. Should’ve been done long ago.”

“Good, I’ll tell them,” Chase said.

Jack turned, sat up in his chair, and looked right at him. “You’re not asking for my
approval
, are you?”

Chase stammered, “As a matter of fact,
yes;
we are. You built—”

“
Nonsense!
” Jack boomed, slamming a fist onto the table, rattling the glasses. “You were all partners the day we launched from Earth. I gave up all my shares, remember? At that moment, every person on the ship became an equal partner.”

“Y—yes, we know that, but—”

“My god, you know I hate being treated like the boss. I can’t shake it no matter how angry it makes me?”

“Sir, you are loved and respected. This is
your
doing. We helped. But
you
made it happen.”

“Bah! Someone to blame if it all goes to hell,” Jack yelled, then downed the second glass in one gulp. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” he said with a sudden change of pace, “about Decatur.”

“As have I,” Chase said.

“I’d like to know what happened to it—or
him
, I suppose, though I have a hard time thinking of a robot as a man.”

“Decatur explained it one time, how choosing a gender was deemed helpful when talking with humans—and I quote—‘to help naturally and permanently bigoted humans relate.’ ”

“I’ve heard it said that Decatur was a new race,” Jack said. “How does that work? I was only aware of the one
person
.”

“I’m afraid I have just a lay understanding myself. Dan can explain better. But, as I understand it, there are two . . .
ways
of looking at it. Decatur learned to reproduce itself by duplication, copying its mind to another robot, which then began to evolve on its own and diverge from the original. And, secondly, the individual is made up of many smaller
beings
—or
parts
—of itself. The personality we know of as
Decatur
is what happens when all of those
parts
work together. That’s the best I can do.”

“Makes sense,” Jack said. “I think I understand what you’re getting at. But the question remains: where did they go? All of the parts and the copies.”

“Good question,” Chase said. “He never was very forthcoming about his contact with the Tau Cetians. Dan said he could tell a change had taken place, but the rest of us wouldn’t have noticed. Dan would, of course.”

“Sure, the designer would know if something was
off kilter
,” Jack said. “But,
years
went by with massive productivity, gigantic-scale construction projects. Then, that one day,
bam!
—he’s gone, not a word, not a trace! That never sat right with me. And that’s my polite turn of the phrase.”

“You and me both,” Chase added. “And other folks. We need to build another ship, Jack. For just this reason—to go find out what’s going on. We’ve been in the dark too long, building this colony and making ourselves feel safe.”

“Good idea. What ever happened to Judy and her people? And the ship with those who’d changed their minds? Should’ve gotten some kind of confirmation of arrival. That also doesn’t sit right with me. What the hell is wrong with radios? Isn’t that a fallback?”

Chase shrugged.

“We’ll get to the bottom of it. It’s been a . . . well, a lot of work. Decatur really made a mess abandoning us without a word. We relied on his automation, and he left
nothing
behind, not even an old partial or non-sentient VI to take over. It’s like—”

“Like what?” Jack said, looking at him with weary eyes.

“Like he was taken against his will.”

Jack shuddered. “My first thought was very human—traitorous son of a bitch. But, it’s not human, of course. No such emotions.”

“Not necessarily,” Chase said.

“Eh?”

“How do I put it? Decatur
was
human, at a certain level. He called his kind
children of Earth
, a sibling race, not a descendant or creation of man.”

“That’s an odd thing to say about your creator,” Jack said gruffly.

“According to Dan, who has studied Decaturian philosophy, they credit us with planting a grass seed that evolved into a redwood forest. Anyway, I’ve got some things to put into motion. What will you be doing next?”

“Who, me? I’m sure there’s some way to get myself into trouble yet. I’d like to visit the Ring, see what folks have been up to there. Haven’t been there since the frame was built.”

Chase looked up automatically but the dome was opaque—as it had been since they’d arrived. He smiled at himself. “I’ll be heading up myself to figure out if we can use the shipyard again.”

“Without the AI?” Jack asked.

“Right.”

“I’ll go with you. Let me know when you’re heading out.”

Chase nodded, finished his drink, and then left.

Chapter 9
Boot Camp

Boot camp has been
a piece of cake. These drill instructors need to take it up a notch—not that I’m going to drop a note in the comment box. The training was designed for organic humans.

I kept my mouth shut unless required to
hooyah
or
yessir
at the right moment and kept my mind on Lena. Training was intense and I zenned through it all. In the zone, as they used to say. My body performed, muscles learned, and I was sort of along for the ride. I don’t take any credit, personally, for coasting through the training. My body had no problems with the physical requirements, and my mind was stable enough to handle the emotional dismemberment. I’m not entirely sure, though, whether I’ve been sufficiently detached from my ego to take orders the way they expect. I just said what I thought they wanted to hear . . . most of the time.

I’m in love with Lena. I know that now.

I can’t explain it. I’ve been with a few girls. Was even married at nineteen—like nearly everyone my age. Then divorced a year later—also like everyone. But Lena is a rare gem. Diamonds are boring. Seriously. Multi-faceted glass. Lena is a scarlet emerald. That’s not just boot camp talking. I’m not just horny.

I am
, but, not
just
.

There’s something about her . . . an instinctive attraction that seems to be operating under its own rules, without me. She turns me on so easily, and not just physically. A shy glance from across the room. A harmless text message. I know, getting deep here, but basic is almost over and I’m thinking about her more and more as the final day draws near. There’s something
spiritual
about how I feel about her.

I know: stupid, crazy, hormones talking.

I feel like a teenager again, plus going through the dichotomy of resenting and loving my parents. Boot camp brought that out in me, reminding me hourly that I resent the genetic gas attack that made me
smarter, stronger,
and
faster
. But that also made most of my brothers-in-arms impotent. These guys joke about sex as if it’s expected, but there’s no passion in their braggadocio. I can tell that their hearts are not into it, that it’s a learned behavior. Going through the motions. Not what I was expecting. These men are
tame
.

There are six women in my barracks, one giving me the eye. I could have shagged her, plenty of opportunities even in this crowded place. Plenty of
invitation
, too. Probably should have. Almost did one morning when she jumped on me as soon as we were alone. I have no real commitment to Lena, by her choice. That wasn’t holding me back. I just can’t be with any other girl with Lena on my mind.

That was the theory, anyway. But after two months, my walls were crumbling.

There’s another woman in the platoon who kept to herself most of the time. I had shit duty one morning after reveille. I was just about done washing up. (After cleaning the head we’re allowed another shower). I came out of the showers wearing a towel around my waist when she came in. She was shy and looked surprised. I don’t think we had ever spoken.

She kicked off her boots and unzipped her onesie, shimmied it down and stepped out of it, while I tried to focus on the contents of my locker. Then she put on white shorts and work shoes to match her t-shirt. We never wear our uniforms for head duty. Don’t want to have to wash it.

“Garner, is it?”

“Yeah. And you’re Milnes?” I asked but
I already knew.

She nodded, pulling out the cleaning supplies from a locker. “Guess we both got shit duty today, Garner.”

“Call me Dallas.”

She nodded, looked at me with a sideways glance. “Stephanie.”

“Yeah, but I kind of like it. The quiet, that is. Hardly ever get to be alone,” I said.

She seemed to freeze in place. I looked at her, thought she was about to be sick or something. “You okay, Milnes?
Stephanie?
”

She turned her head to look at me, then looked back down at the bench as if unsure what to do. I was politely waiting for her to leave before I got dressed.

Instead of leaving, she set the supplies on the bench, then turned toward me, yanked off her t-shirt with a quick stroke of one hand and approached, wearing only shorts and shoes.

My mouth fell open. She was lean, muscled, but still curvy in the right places. She was breathing heavily as she stopped in front of me, looking into my eyes. Her hand went under my towel and her smirk turned into a wide smile. I looked down at her perky breasts, then closed my eyes and sighed at her touch.

She sat on the bench in front of me and pulled off the towel.

I didn’t want this. I loved Lena. Thought of no one else, despite her refusal to commit. But, Milnes looked up at me, and passion drop-kicked my convictions. The light caught her eyes—dark blue-gray like a carrier hull. A gentle breeze tussled her regulation-length hair—black as a midnight sea.

Lena?

I didn’t stop Milnes. I was too anxious, though.

Sometimes you just gotta stop thinking and go with the flow
, Brad used to say.

But I also didn’t want to get drummed out. There was nothing I hated more than being caught doing something . . .
iffy
. . . without a damned good alibi.

“Always have an alibi,” my brother Howie used to say when we were doing something likely to get us into trouble. When
he
was getting
me
into trouble, that is. I was a good kid.

Right now, I was in a most precarious position with a fellow . . . sea
girl
. Nothing to fear from another recruit, but what if an officer walked in?

We needed to relocate to the head. The women’s head. Perfect alibi.

I gently held Milnes’s hands and gestured for her to stand, then kissed her deeply and sensuously and grabbed my towel.

“Oh, shit, grab your t-shirt!” I said, yanking her back, and she squealed. “Oh, and the cleaning supplies!”

“What, are you gonna help me now?” and she giggled.

I just about dragged her into the showers and finished what she’d started. There’s just nothing like it under a hot shower. Except maybe a hot tub. . . .

Wasn’t that every teenage boy’s dream? To sneak into the girls’ locker room after gym class and have sex with the cutest girl in the class?

Well, it was
my
fantasy. Might be only me and the few like me who have such thoughts anymore, aside from organic men.

Today, I didn’t need to fantasize
and
we didn’t need that alibi.

Fraternization is basically illegal. But, unofficially, it’s seldom enforced because it’s good for morale and it’s rare, too. As long as both parties are discrete, charges are never levied. If they get out of hand—get caught one time too many—they’ll be told in no uncertain terms to end it. But, as long as one is careful. . . .

The thing is, when you’ve got a platoon of eighteen-to-twenty-year-old recruits, you—that is, the Sarge, or the military in general—becomes a parent figure. We’re having sex. Better to manage it than drop something like the wrath of God on our heads. Why do you think women make up such a large population of the military today?

My thoughts were all over the place in lineup, shifting from Lena to Stephanie to home.

“. . . mu’fucking fool? What, you got a hearing problem, Garner?”

The sound of my name snapped me immediately to attention. Random recruits let out muffled snorts and giggles. That was unusual this late in the training. The drill sergeant came up, nose-to-nose with me, awaiting an answer.

Shit. I was totally spaced out.

“Sorry, sir!”

“Sir,
what
, maggot-face?”

“Sir, Master Sergeant Beckett,
sir
!”

“Good, you’re paying attention to
something
at least.”

Sure, I paid attention, including knowing that he was a Marine, not Navy, strictly speaking. Would I bring that up? Absolutely not.

He even had a cigar and chewed on it—I kid you not. I don’t believe he ever lit it up, though. The Sarge was a small, lean, white man, all gristle, five-feet-six, about a buck forty. His size lent itself well to his talent at intimidation. You wouldn’t think so from a small man, but have you ever been attacked by a rooster? I pissed off a Rhode Island Red keeping watch over his ladies one time. Trust me, you’ve got a serious situation on your hands there. They go for the eyes!

Sarge was
that
kind of intensity. I’ve seen him take down a recruit—during unarmed combat training—with a full foot and fifty-pound disadvantage, and the other guy went down like a big stuffed bear. Made him cry uncle like a dumbass. He looks at you sideways or in any way other than straight in your eyes, you’re dead meat. I learned to spot that look. The rooster will watch you just like that, and there’s no warning! Sarge was looking straight into my eyes so I didn’t worry too much.

But, I did take one-point-five seconds longer to answer than I should have, so I found myself on the ground doing fifty. When I returned to parade attention, he was nose-to-nose with me and said, “Did that fifty shake loose the goddamned answer I’m looking for, Garner?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Spill it, mu’fucker!”

I had indeed given it some thought. “Sir, you are not a m—motherfucking fool, sir!”

“Who is, then?”

“I am, sir!”

“Bullshit! Give me fifty more for lying!”

I immediately dropped. While my arms were beginning to feel like iron, he continued. (By the way, I
like
that tortured feeling. Reminds me of Lena stripping, seductively, and not letting me touch her.)

“If you are the biggest mu’fucker to enter my courtyard”—he said, and then paused to kneel down beside me to better yell into my ears—“then I’ve shared your mom with you and
I refuse to accept that
possibility
. No sir, not from a no-good little shit like you. I know that look. You think I don’t know that look? Your mom . . . I’ve been there, and she
loved
it.
Begged for more.
I know you aren’t capable of pleasing a real woman . . . not even the woman who brought you into the world. But that’s beside the point, mister! Your mom is an officer and a lady! So tell me how in the goddamned hell
you
are
her
son?”

He ranted on and on while I tuned him out and kept going.

Every pushup was a delightful thrust into Lena as I gazed into her eyes, which slightly rolled back into her head. (I barely heard the Sarge’s rant as if from a distance; it sounded like an epic). As I counted into the forties, Lena lifted her head, squeezed her thighs tightly
.
Like a snowball rolling downhill, her passion grew, reached a peak, and then—
poof
—she sighed. I finished at
forty-eight, forty-nine, fiftyyyyy
. Then, panting, I quickly stood at attention again with a big stupid grin on my face.

The Sarge squinted in anger as he stared me down. The sweat also seemed appropriate to the effort. “Goddammit, Garner! What
the fuck
are you smiling about
now
? Haven’t you had enough?”

I shouted my answer back, still reeling from the image of Lena’s sweaty body burned into my mind’s eye.

“Fuckin’
hooyah
, sir!
Nooo,
sirrr
!”

He had no idea what I meant, so he just scowled as if tempted to make me drop for fifty more, then changed his mind. Possibly worried that I was channeling the spirit of Chuck Norris (one of his heroes, which we were reminded of daily). Either that or I’d gone
Section 8
on him.

Some of the assembled laughed then quickly stopped before the Sarge caught them. I caught Stephanie’s eye and she blushed.

Hmm, so there’s something more there than just . . . hormones. She’s cute and fun. Got that girl-next-door thing going on.

It had happened so fast I was still trying to process . . .
us
. What were
we
now? I think I understood that look on her face, though it was ten yards away. I was her plaything, and she was mine. A midnight snack.

Sarge wiped the spittle off his face with the back of his hand. “This ain’t the fuckin’ Marines, boy! Did you get in the wrong line at enlistment? I guarantee it, if you manage to
not
well and truly piss me off, and by some miracle, I deem you worthy to wear a uniform—which does not look promising at this point—then you’ll get your chance to piss off a whole platoon of jarheads at sea.”

I wanted to shout back,
Sir
,
no I won’t, sir! I’m going into space, sir!
but didn’t dare press my luck. The mere thought made me stand straighter
just in case
the Sarge could read minds. I wouldn’t have been surprised.