Hidden enemy, p.22
Hidden Enemy, page 22
Bemused, Terry shrugged. “Uh … I guess, servicial. It might be better to say ‘helpful.’ That would be atento, or atenta in the feminine. I guess helpful sister would be hermana atenta. But that sounds sorta weird as a call sign.”
Kali nodded. “So it does. But we’ll keep looking for a call sign that really expresses your new personality, because you have changed, Terry. A lot, and all for the better.”
The single door to the corridor opened, and a droid from the hearing room said briskly, “The hearing officer requests your presence.”
They rose and followed the droid down the corridor, up a short set of stairs, and along another, broader hallway that came to a dead end at the large, arena-style hearing room outer door. Entering, they descended six tiers and took their seats at the left front of the center area. The hearing officer was not present, clearly awaiting the arrival of all the involved parties. As they took their seats, the crew of Red Thirty-two arrived, followed shortly by Admiral Antonelli and Commander McGregor.
Commander McGregor had just seated himself when the carrier executive officer strode in. Everyone stood, just as in a courtroom on Earth. It was odd: Upper Commander Halston was not the ranking person in the room, Admiral Antonelli was, but everybody stood for the judge.
He seated himself, saying, “Take your seats.”
He scanned the room. Tall, gray-haired, and slender, his expression held a world weariness that said he had experienced too much death and destruction in his life. A lot like Admiral Antonelli’s face, in fact.
“I have reviewed this case rather carefully,” he began. “It is somewhat unusual in the history of Earth’s Shadow Warrior history, and I wanted to be sure that I completely understood the series of events that led up to the confrontation between teams in Red Hangar. Team Red Thirty-two, please rise.”
The team stood, slowly and uncertainly, and Terry understood. They were fully as scared as she and her teammates were, and perhaps with somewhat more reason. The XO caught the attention of each of the team, the three young men, and the two women.
His voice was unsympathetic as he doled out their punishment. “Team Thirty-two, I have reviewed your actions in the exercise in question, paying particular attention to the com sequences. I find your slap-dash, careless approach to your training particularly astounding, as it represents the actions and attitudes of raw recruits with no experience at all. The fact of your graduation is disturbing, and in checking your Academy records, I believe that you were passed on due to a possible clerical error, and that you should never have been allowed to leave the training center.
“I considered simply washing you out and sending all of you home. However, it may be that one or more of you, with proper instruction and supervision, may yet become Shadow Warriors. So, my direction is that you be returned to Academy and start your training over, with no credit for your drills and exercises up to this point.
“As for your pilot, his attack on Cadet Tedesse violates the cadet code of zero violence against fellow trainees. You are put on probation forthwith, and any additional violations will result in your immediate discharge from Academy.
“Your team will be dissolved, and each of you will be assigned to a new team. Perhaps some of you will eventually graduate, but not associated with each other in the slightest. If any of you believe this is too harsh a penalty, you may request separation from the Shadow Warrior service, and if you do so immediately, it will be without punishment or prejudice. Do any of you wish to ask a question or register a complaint?”
Red Thirty-two remained silent, to a person. Terry noticed that Jeung’s left hand seemed to be trembling. She had a sudden, startling realization: in a way, she might have been the Jeung of Red Twenty-two, and the Chris/Jason situation could have been her equivalent of the angry pilot of Red Thirty-two. Without Zeke’s continually improving leadership, without Kali’s reasoned and persistent attempts to reconcile Chris and Jason, their team would have more than likely shattered. She’d have stood by in horror, just like Jeung. Never finding her voice. Never finding her place.
After a moment, the XO said. “Very well. Your team is dismissed, as is Admiral Antonelli. My sincere thanks, Admiral, for your taking the time to assist in this matter, particularly considering your new, enormous responsibility.”
The team filed out without even a backward glance. Admiral Antonelli dipped his head, both a salute and an acknowledgment of the thanks, and left as well. The judge turned to Red Twenty-two.
“Red Twenty-two, please stand.” They did, and Terry felt that her blood pressure might have just gone up about a hundred points. She didn’t dare glance left or right.
“I have reviewed your preparation for the exercise, your actions, and your communications thoroughly,” Upper Commander Halston said, voice still stern. “Your initial plan, which you documented carefully, was excellent, and your preparation of electronic copies for your partners in the exercise was thoughtful and well-intentioned. A review of com records clearly illustrates that you were prompt, prepared, and willing to help your partners. In short, you displayed all the attributes of a solid, top-notch Shadow Warrior crew.
“In the exercise, your wisely chosen attack plan was stymied by your partner’s refusal to cooperate. Although your solution to your problem was drastic, I am in complete sympathy with it, and can find no problem with essentially erasing Red Thirty-two’s participation in the exercise. Your completion of the attack was well thought out—not brilliant, perhaps, but the excellent execution of a solid plan. I can find no fault with your actions and declare you innocent of wrongdoing.
“However, in the future, Cadet G’Delliel, in a real battle situation, I suggest you consider very carefully before you disable one of your own fighters in a pitched battle. I considered disciplinary measures, because your outlandish claim that you would disable a fellow warrior ship in a real battle was disturbing. However, knowing the reason and logic of Molethians in general, I put it down to responding to a question in very severe conditions, so I will only include a minor reprimand in your file.”
Kali, next to Terry, seemed to flinch a bit. Her voice, however, was clear and without any expression. “Thank you, sir. I promise to do my best to support all Shadow Warrior crews.”
He dipped his head a fraction, then addressed Jason. “Cadet Walters, your immediate and violent response on the perceived attack on your pilot was absolutely ferocious and relentless. I carefully reviewed video records from Red Hangar of your response.”
Red Hangar had active video scans? Terry had had no idea.
The XO continued. “It is not clear to me that the Red Thirty-two pilot meant to physically assault Cadet Tedesse. Perhaps he was simply charging your team and had too much momentum going for him. In any case, he committed a serious infraction. I can therefore understand your response, as from your viewpoint, your pilot had been assaulted and might be injured, and two other crewmembers of Red Thirty-two continued to behave aggressively.
“Thus, I am letting you off with a reprimand as well, which will also go in your permanent records. I expect you will immediately work with some of our hand-to-hand combat instructors to modify your normal defense posture. I have studied Krav Maga, and those studies reveal that this particular discipline is less concerned with an opponent’s well-being than most martial arts. I strongly suggest that you learn to control your responses to physical threats to avoid killing someone by accident. Is that clear?”
Jason started to speak, croaked, cleared his throat, and ultimately said, “Yes, sir. I would … welcome some training that might help me modify my skill set.”
The XO shifted his attention to Chris. “Cadet Novak, I find no fault with your actions, as you simply went to the aid of your teammate, simply pushing aside his attacker. Therefore, you are adjudged not guilty of any infraction.”
“Cadets Acevedo and Tedesse, you did not participate in the activities in question, so you also are adjudged free of guilt. You are dismissed. Get back to work. Your team may have been guilty of unwise judgment, but there is time yet to make up for those judgmental errors and become a valuable Shadow Warrior crew.”
Captain McGregor saluted and led them out, the five cadets absolutely silent. Terry figured that the yelling and screaming for joy could take place back in the Red Squadron barracks.
They never saw the Red Thirty-two team again. Terry expected that, if she ever did hear anything about the Red Thirty-two crew, it would be that most of them had washed out.
Back in their quarters, Terry asked the team into the gathering room and started to talk, trying to explain the vision she had undergone in the courtroom.
“You need to be thankful today that we’re not Team Thirty-two,” she said.
She went on to explain. The Chris and Jason situation, so like the problem with the Team Thirty-two pilot. How she could have been Jeung, lost and unable to help the situation. Without Kali, would anyone have listened? Would they even have tried to solve their problems? Would they have failed to graduate from simulation school?
As she finished, the others were all staring at her, Zeke and Chris with undisguised horror on their faces. Terry’s whole body began shivering.
Kali noticed immediately. “We’re okay, Terry. We made it,” Kali said, moving closer, putting her arm around Terry.
Chris joined after a moment, visibly concerned. “Yeah, we made it—but she’s right, Kali. It was close, and we’d have never made it except for you. Right, Terry?”
Terry nodded but didn’t speak. She still wasn’t certain that the others understood how close it had really been.
38 CHRIS
Chris was jogging at a fairly respectable clip around the indoor track at the carrier gym. The gym had everything: lots of weight machines, plenty of free weights, a pool, the track (a full kilometer, winding back and forth around the facility perimeter), and even classes and trainers.
Hearing another runner coming up, he moved right. Surprise—Jason pulled up beside him, slowing as well. He moved fairly briskly, his breathing even and measured, as though his current pace didn’t represent any effort. They continued together for a hundred meters or so, and Chris commented, “Thought you went in for weights, not aerobics.”
“Weight training without good aerobic conditioning is useless,” Jason said. “Have to have lungs in really good shape to do any sort of in-depth lifting. Besides, it gives me the stamina to survive these long days.”
Chris panted a sigh. “I envy your fitness. I’m in pretty good shape, but your condition is remarkable. You must have been working out since you were three.”
Jason laughed, picking up the pace a bit. “Is this still comfortable for you?” he asked.
It was, but just barely. Chris said so. “But I get the idea you could go a lot faster.”
“Some, but our pace is solid. We’re hitting about seven-minute miles, which is a good exercise pace. I’ll pick it up to six occasionally, but faster than that and you’re doing racing training, and I like lifting a lot better than field sports.”
“I heard Kali say that you didn’t compete in high school. Why become a champion lifter and do all that Krav Maga work and still not compete?”
Jason muttered something, then said audibly, “Mainly to protect myself. When I was younger …” he trailed off.
Oh. Chris got it. “When you were younger, kids picked on you?”
Jason didn’t reply. They began a gradual ninety-degree left turn, the trail crossing to the other side of the facility. Chris said, “Sorry. None of my business. I was just making conversation.”
After a moment, Jason said, “It’s okay. I understand. I’ll tell you if you really want to know, but you may not like what you hear.”
They jogged in silence past the next left turn, now moving down the other side of the facility and toward an extension of Blue Hangar that contained the rest of the track.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Chris assured him. “I hope we can be friends. I think Kali is absolutely right. As a team, we have to be a family. But you don’t have to say anything.”
Jason laughed. “Yeah, I do. Kali knows, and yesterday I told Terry, and I promised I would tell Zeke, because she wanted to be sure he knew. You need to as well.
“I’m transgender.”
“Oh.” Chris was silent for a moment. “Like—how? You were a girl? You want to be a girl?”
Jason turned and gave him the eye. Chris stumbled. “Sorry,” he gasped. “Not enough oxygen to the brain. I don’t know about this stuff. There was a trans kid in our town for like five minutes before her mother packed her off to somewhere she thought would be more understanding.”
Jason turned back forward, jaw flexing. When he spoke, his voice said that he’d gone through this entire, painful explanation before. “Okay. Transgender people don’t ‘want’ to be a gender. They are a gender. They were misidentified as the wrong gender. I didn’t start out as anything but what I am. People just didn’t listen to me for a while.”
Chris was embarrassed; he sort of knew but hadn’t thought about it in a while. Like what Good Friday was named for, or that white was a combination of all the other colors of light.
“Right, I knew that. I just … sorry. I lived in a small, suburban town in a big city area, but my small town had what you might consider a lot of small-town characteristics.”
That brought another snicker. “Same thing for me, really. And I was in foster homes also.”
Chris had forgotten that. “When did you decide that you should be a girl?”
Jason snorted. “We don’t ‘decide’ anything, Chris—we are what we are.
“I always thought of myself as a girl—or at least I did from the time I started to have memories that I retain. Say, five years old, maybe.
“When I was five. I wanted to play with girls and dress up like a girl. Of course I was put with the boys, and I did like playing sports a lot—I always liked baseball the most. I liked playing with cars and some other toys, but I thought of it from the point of view of a girl.”
“How does that happen?” Chris didn’t have a clue.
“You can bet that I’ve read a bit about it. I think the broadest answer is that scientists and medical experts don’t really know for certain. There is some imprinting of gender identity that goes on in a human brain, but there are also other things that influence gender identity, such as the structure of the brain. Also, scientists differentiate between gender identity and who you are attracted to sexually.
“So I am really a male physiologically, except for my brain, which thinks I’m a girl. It’s pretty Goddamn frustrating.”
Chris could understand. “Hey, I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you attracted to guys?”
“I’ve always been so tied up in just trying to deal with my personal situation that I have just blocked out any thoughts of romantic relations—with anybody of either sex.”
“So you bulked up to protect yourself, to make sure nobody bothered you. After seeing what you did to the pilot of Red Thirty-two, I’ll bet you didn’t have any trouble.”
“I was on the football team. It was just another way to be ‘one of the guys,’ and not draw any attention to … my situation. Somehow or other, somebody found out, and all of a sudden, it started getting passed around. One of the linemen decided to pick on me.”
Chris snickered. “Did he live?”
“I put him in the hospital, and off the team. The next day, six or so of our teammates decided to get a little revenge. Two of them went to the hospital, and the other four were on the floor before the police got there. That incident is the reason I joined Shadow Warriors.”
“Wow. I thought of myself as really tough, but you’re in another league.”
“I didn’t want to be in another league,” Jason said angrily. “I just wanted to have a few friends and for people to treat me as a person—treat me as the person I am.”
They jogged in silence for the next half-kilometer, coming back to the spot where Jason had caught up with Chris. At that point, Chris had done his 5K, and so he began to slow.
“Finished,” he said. “5K is about all I ever do.” He stopped, and Jason did as well. Chris looked Jason in the eye. “I apologize for my behavior early in training. I’ll make you a promise: I will be the best, most loyal crew member you ever saw—to you and to the rest of Red Twenty-two. And I want to be your friend. I’d like to learn to be your brother—because that’s what crews are. We’re a family, and we have to support each other.”
He held out his hand. Wide-eyed, Jason took it, and they shook.
After a moment, a really sly grin crossed Jason’s face. “A really supportive brother”—he emphasized the word—“would keep his teammate company while he ran one more klick.”
Chris grinned. “Hey, if you’ll promise not to run so darn fast, I’ll do it.”
Jason shook again. “It’s a deal.” And off they went.
39 ZEKE
At his pilot position, Zeke called out, “Everybody saddle up. We launch in five minutes.”
Today’s exercise involved a joint attack involving ten teams against thirty fighters. Similar in execution to their exercise with Red Thirty-two, it would occur on a much larger scale. Their partners would be the whole Red One unit and its commander.
Everyone already sat in place, so his words were strictly pro forma. They still had their helmets off, and with a full five minutes to kill, Zeke said, “We’ve got a little time. Any more ideas on call signs?”
He had swiveled, as had Kali, so that they faced the other crew members. Jason appeared mystified, and Chris shrugged.
“No idea,” Chris said. “Thought about it, but no inspirations.”
“Me either,” Jason seconded.
Zeke had been pondering a possible call sign. He had no idea if the sign he had considered had been co-opted or not. “I had an idea,” he said.
