The Riss Proposal: Book II in the Riss Series (Volume 2) Read online

  “What do you call me in class?”

  “Master Reese.”

  I finished the last few weeks with a summary of what we’d discussed over the semester. Finally, I had them review their original notes, the ones they had made the first day. Most were willing to discuss them.

  “Let me leave you with Master Wei’s wisdom. When he first saw me, he had no reaction to my tattoo. After I knew him longer, I asked him why he wasn’t surprised at me being a Riss-human. He said, ‘I saw you, not your face.’ I hope you will do the same to the people who work for you.”

  * * * *

  The class was less surprised to see me as their second semester instructor, for People Dynamics II.

  “I’ll guarantee that during the course of this semester you’ll, where I can’t hear, curse me with every profanity you’ve learned from every colony you’ve visited.”

  They smiled, thinking I was joking. I wasn’t. During the next twelve weeks, I had each student tattooed and required him to spend a few days at Prometheus and make at least one trip into Eden. That semester, they began to understand prejudice as something real and not an academic exercise. Lucky for them, Commander Berker took over the third semester. I went back to teaching People Dynamics I with a class of incoming students.

  An unexpected reward for teaching at Hephaestus was seeing Lieutenant Bradshaw. Somehow, he heard I was teaching at Hephaestus and managed to get stationed at the Air Defense Headquarters for the two years I taught at Hephaestus. We saw each other as much as duty allowed, and during semester breaks, we vacationed at several resorts. Mostly, our activities included eating to keep up our energy for the hours we spent in bed making love. I knew we could never be more than close friends and occasionally lovers, because of our duties. But it gave me memories I’ll always cherish.

  Chapter 2

  I sat in Admiral Plimson’s office—again—with another unidentified Captain. I had been served kaffa and was sure that wasn’t a good sign. I feared I was being setup for something I wouldn’t like. Last time it was Hephaestus. Although I had to admit, I enjoyed the assignment after I got over the shock.

 

  I had to admit he had been a good captain, but...

 

  Actually, that was a little unfair. Plimson had screened five Captains in order to find one Captain that didn’t hate or was repulsed by the concept. And Jordanno had been a good Captain even though he too had lapsed into Riss-phobia once. To his credit, he did apologize when he realized he’d been wrong. On the other hand, I’d been assigned to the Peregrine on some random basis. I’d survived Captain Gebauer only because my contract with the SAS allowed me to ask for a special SAS board of inquiry in the event I felt I’d been mistreated. Because the Riss Project was a special SAS project with an alien nation, the board would include the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the senior Riss representative. It didn’t change Gebauer’s attitude about Riss-humans or me, but it made him cautious. Plimson interrupted my musing.

  “I understand that Hephaestus will never be the same again. I’ve had positive feedback from Commander Weller. He would keep you forever, if I would let him. He’s already requested another Riss-human to replace you. I owe you. I believe the graduates over the past year will deserve to be fast-track officers. Right now, you’re the most experienced lieutenant in the navy. You have served during three engagements against the raiders, earned two silver stars, and taught at our most prestigious academy.” He didn’t look at the Captain sitting off to my right, but I felt the remarks were intended for him.

 

 

  Before I could respond, Plimson continued. “Vice Admiral Zann is also pleased, although she claims she expected it.” He rose and walked around the desk. “Please stand.” I stood and braced to attention. I noticed the Captain also stood. Smart man. Plimson handed me a small velvet box.

  “Congratulations, Reese. Because you graduated Hephaestus With Comment, you are one of the SAS fast-track officers. Whereas normal promotion to lieutenant commander would be ten to fifteen years, you and they could reasonably expect to be promoted to lieutenant commander within eight to ten years. Your promotion at just over six years reflects your accomplishments.” He waved us both to our chairs. He looked to the Captain. “Commander Reese is one of the few officers who can fill most any position on a ship because of her unique rotation under Captains Gebauer and Jordanno. Enough, I have gone through this rather long review of Reese’s accomplishments to assure you that she’s earned the out of zone promotion. It was no gift or special treatment because she’s a Riss-human. Now for the reason I have both of you here. Captain Wuffraat, you are being given command of the Leopard, a new class of Hunters. I’ve assigned Reese specifically because she was instrumental in helping to find the raiders twice and earned Silver Stars for her part during those engagements. I would have put her back with Captain Jordanno; however, as you know, the Tiger was destroyed in action against the raiders. We believe they set a trap specifically for him.”

  I sat shocked. I’d liked Jordanno. “Sir, would it be possible for me to get a list of those killed? I had good friends on the Tiger.” I couldn’t help interrupting. I felt a pain in my chest—too many friends.

  “Yes, Lieutenant Charth will give you the list on your way out. Other than the few selections I’ve made, Captain, you have complete latitude in picking from those available, including those in home fleet. You will leave as soon as you’ve a full complement.”

  Plimson rose, indicating the end of the meeting. Wuffraat and I braced to attention, saluted, and left the office. Wuffraat immediately turned right and briskly walked away without saying anything.

  I thought, watching his determined stride down the hallway.

 

  I hoped Captain Wuffraat wasn’t going to be another Captain Gebauer. Life was difficult enough without the Captain against me. His attitude would determine the working environment of the ship and by extension, the attitudes of the crew.

 

  I felt no amusement, only a soothing feeling that relieved my tension. Time would tell and in any event, I could only control my actions, not his.

 

  This time I felt her grin.

  * * * *

  I returned to Hephaestus and my room before inserting the disk listing the Tiger’s compliment at the time of its demise, into my room computer. Tears rained freely down my face, blurring my vision and making me stop time after time to clear my eyes and wait until I could stop crying long enough to continue. Ironically, the list of friends killed was extra long because of Admiral Plimson. He’d stacked the Tiger with people from the Peregrine who knew and liked me, in an attempt to compensate for my experience under Gebauer and to make the Riss Project assessment more realistic. A few managed to escape in the life pods and were subsequently rescued. Of those I considered good friends, only Master Sergeant Shira Terril and Commander Wang had survived. Both had gone through extensive rejuvenation at Merlin, Eden’s premier medical facility. If I hadn’t been at Hephaestus... I wondered.

 

  Thalia was right. Ifs didn’t change anything, and if they did, it was impossible to know how that would have affected the subsequent events. You couldn’t tamper with one event and expect everything else to remain the same. I sat in silence, forcing myself to remember how each had touched and enriched my life, before finally laying them to rest.

 

 

  * * * *

  Thanks to Thalia, I slept well that night. I packed quickly, having few items other than my uniforms. I seldom went out because of the knee-jerk reaction to my tattoo. The public didn�
�t understand the Riss-human connection, but they had definite opinions they thought were facts. Some thought I was contagious and tried to avoid close contact. Others feared me because they thought the Riss was in control. And others considered the joining of a parasite with a human an abomination of nature that should be destroyed. After one last look around the room, I closed the door, hoping my stay at Hephaestus had produced a new class of officers who would consider the person before they rushed to judgment.

  I felt a peaceful soothing sensation. It was an interesting observation. Without the tattoo, I was just another person.

  I left Hephaestus looking forward to my new assignment.

  * * * *

  “Captain, I’ve assembled the staff as you asked. They’re waiting in your briefing room.”

  “Thank you, XO,” Wuffraat said, as he and Panella walked towards the room. Panella entered first.

  “The Captain,” he said and stepped aside for him. Wuffraat looked around the room while heading for his seat at the head of the conference room table.

  “At ease. I’ve just returned from seeing Admiral Plimson. He’s assigned a Riss-human to the Leopard. That presents us with two problems—maybe three. First, everyone I’ve talked to tells me the Riss-humans are not only lightning rods who attract trouble, but they cause most of it. Unfortunately, Admiral Plimson believes that they’re head and shoulders above most of their peers. In fact, he promoted her to lieutenant commander well out of the zone. From everything I’ve heard, I’ve concluded their performance reports have been significantly influenced because they are an SAS special project and their contract gives them a whip they can use against anyone, including the Captain. I talked to her first ship’s Captain, Gebauer. He agrees the Riss Project is a disaster waiting to happen. Until then, Riss-humans like this Nadya Reese will continue to disrupt a ship’s performance. He indicated he had one problem after another; however, he couldn’t discipline her because of her damn contract. He also felt that his subordinates over-rated her to avoid putting their careers in jeopardy. I also talked to Captain Hagan, of the Shikra. He not only confirmed Gebauer’s assessment, but also indicated that Reese had influenced the Riss-human assigned to the Shikra to use her contract to intimidate him. He had contacted Captain Jordanno, who was Reese’s Captain at the time, and he agreed she had overstepped her authority and would be disciplined. I don’t know the outcome of that incident, since Jordanno was killed in action a few months ago. I did talk to a few of the crew who sailed with him while Reese was aboard. They confirmed that Jordanno was not pleased with her.” Wuffraat paused to take a sip of water.

  “What’s in her contract that gives her such leverage?” Commander Belercor, the Navigations officer, asked. Belercor was in her late forties and showing her age. She was several stone overweight, hair almost all gray, a little under average height, and a pudgy face. To her credit, she had a nice smile and was generally cheerful.

  “First, she can demand a board of inquiry, which would include the Chiefs of Staff plus the SAS Riss representative. Whether the officer was in the right or not it wouldn’t do his career any good. And if you give her a less than good review, it must be taped with her present and sent to the Riss Project manager, Vice Admiral Youell. Therefore, I believe that is why the project results are being skewed in her direction. They even gave her a Silver Star for the Battle of Tamerland. You know it was special treatment. The award didn’t even say what she did to earn it—probably because she didn’t. If we aren’t careful, the Riss Project will be claimed a success and we’ll all be required to have one of those parasites in us.” Wuffraat’s fists tightened as he delivered the last sentence. The reaction around the room varied from anger to fear.

  “I believe it is our duty and in the best interest of the SAS we give this Nadya Reese a fair and realistic evaluation. It’s time Plimson and the Riss Project team realizes what is going on. Gebauer agreed he didn’t read her contract and therefore moved too quickly. We have to be careful not to make the same mistake. Plimson has basically tied my hands by claiming she’s qualified in all departments—rubbish—and that her Riss has given the SAS two mathematical equations that give us an advantage in battle.”

  “Do we have these miracle equations to evaluate?” Verdi, the Tactical officer asked. He was a nondescript little man with light-brown thinning hair, narrow face, and thin lips.

  “No. Of course, the two people he claims credited her with these equations are dead along with Captain Jordanno.”

  “If the equations are of any value, she probably took credit for other peoples’ work.”

  “Undoubtedly true, Verdi. Her parasite supposedly can reproduce them. Nonetheless, the Admiral obviously wants her assigned to the Bridge. The second problem I see is the crew. Everyone agrees no one likes her and many need little encouragement to start something with her or to incite her to start something with them. We have to be careful not to let our actions or words give anyone the idea that we condone any kind of action against her. I don’t want anyone confusing our evaluations by pointing to unrelated incidents or to our opinion of her. I repeat we must be extremely careful or she’ll not only get away with it again, but one or more of our careers could be put in jeopardy. Lastly, she spends a lot of time working out in the Army’s facilities. She’s supposed to be good at some fighting style or other. That’s probably more unfounded rumors.”

  “The army likes trouble makers and wild women. Probably she gets more than one kind of workout there,” Wislsen, the Helm officer, said with a wink. Wislsen was over one hundred and ninety centimeters tall, athletic build, curly blond hair, and a typical old-earth Swedish-looking face.

  “Commander Wislsen, that is just the kind of talk I don’t want from any of you. We don’t want to give her any excuse to claim bias. Unless Colonel Seng wants to press charges against her or her presence there impacts her work, we should ignore whatever happens there. If she starts a fight there, I’m sure the Scorpions will teach her a lesson or two.” Wuffraat smiled as he rose to leave. “Remember, honest evaluations. If she wants an inquiry, good, it’ll give us an opportunity to disclose the Riss Project for what it really is before it gets out of hand. Dismissed.”

  * * * *

  I had a feeling of déjà vu, when I discovered the Leopard was docked at F24. That was the same berth as the Peregrine had been when I first boarded. The corridor walls were the same sterile steel-gray, and the group behind me had lowered their voices and were in no hurry to catch up, although I was just strolling.

 

  I acknowledged as I turned the corner into the F24 loading area. A lieutenant in his late twenties stood at the entrance to the Leopard, checking IDs. He smiled when he saw me and straightened slightly. One of the two Black Beret Scorpions guarding the entrance tensed notably as he caught sight of my tattoo, until the other gave him a small nod. I recognized the guard who nodded as having served on the Peregrine. The lieutenant’s smile disappeared into a frown when I turned fully towards him and he caught sight of my tattoo. I stopped and handed him my ID.

  “Permission to come aboard,” I said and patiently waited for him to recover. It was interesting watching his conflicting emotions. Judging by the tightening of his face muscles, he was dying to lash out against the waif-like alien, but knew it would be disastrous because I outranked him.

  Jordanno had been right—rank will help eliminate some of the abuse.

 

  A feeling of amusement ripple through me. It helped. After a few seconds, he inserted my ID into his reader and verified my identity. With reluctance, he turned towards me with a neutral-looking expression.

  “Permission granted, Ma’am.”

  I didn’t bother waiting for an offer to be helpful. I had no trouble finding my assigned quarters, since the Leopard had the exact configuration as the Tiger. My new Sy
stem Interface Device (SID) for the Leopard allowed me access to my quarters, and I found my luggage had already been delivered.

 

 

 

  Thalia’s grin tingled. Feeling better, I freshened and headed for the Captain’s office. When I reached it, I found the door open. He looked up and motioned for me to enter.

  “Come in, Commander Reese, and close the door.”

  “Lieutenant Commander Reese, reporting for duty, sir,” I said, standing braced to attention. His return salute was a few seconds in coming.

 

 

  “At ease, Reese. There’s kaffa on the side board if you would like something to drink.” He nodded towards a small shelf towards the back of the room. The cabin was exactly the same size and shape as Captain Jordanno’s. The only difference was the décor. Jordanno’s pictures and mementos were about the service. Wuffraat’s pictures and awards were about himself. Ironically, Wuffraat didn’t seem to have done anything of note. His main accomplishment seemed to have been thirty-five years of service.

  “No thank you, Captain,” I said as I sat in one of the two navy-blue padded chairs arranged in front of his desk.

  “From what I’ve heard from the Admiral, you’re qualified in every department, except Engineering; therefore, the question is where can you be best utilized.” He paused, looking at me—or was it the tattoo? Thalia was right. Both the look and the interview so far had been cautious, not the typical welcome aboard interview. “The Admiral made it clear he has a special interest in you.”

 

  “Sir, I’m sure the Admiral doesn’t expect me to be given any special treatment—nor do I. I believe the Admiral’s speech was more for my sake than yours. He wants me to know that my promotion was based on performance and not in any way special treatment because I’m a Riss-human. I’m one more junior lieutenant commander in your command and ready to fill any role you assign me.” I thought I understood his concern. Plimson had laid it on thick and did make it clear he had an interest in me. But then, I was an experiment. If Wuffraat thought I expected special treatment, it would strain the atmosphere for everyone.