Port Casper (Cladespace Book 1) Read online

  He watched her, frowning from his mouth to his brown eyes. Grace had always used Huber’s frown as a gauge of her trouble. When she had knocked an opponent unconscious, she received a small frown. A broken bone was a deeper frown. Today, the frown formed a shape worse than she had ever seen. Not good.

  “Sir, I know she didn’t cheat, sir!”

  Grace naturally directed her gaze toward the commandant, but found it difficult not to acknowledge Flora in the large open space of the room. She couldn’t stare at Flora, but her peripheral vision caught the rigidity of her friend’s frame. Grace knew Flora wanted to run and hide.

  “At ease, Donner. I just want the facts. Why do you say she didn’t cheat?” Huber spoke as if Flora didn’t exist.

  “Because Cadet Tannenbaum’s personal code of ethics and character wouldn’t permit such behavior, sir!”

  “I said at ease, cadet.”

  He was growing uncomfortable with her snap-to attitude. She’d better relax. She moved her feet under her shoulders and placed her hands at the small of her back.

  Huber shuffled papers on his desk, cracking one page to attention as he looked at Flora.

  “Tannenbaum, the rules of this program state that a cadet may use no artificial means to enhance performance during an official exercise, excluding gear sanctioned for said exercise. You are accused of violating that rule.”

  Grace looked quizzically at Flora as Commandant Huber read the charges.

  “No cadet may use electronic devices within this compound in the execution of training,” he said. “And Charlie debrief early this morning clearly showed EM telemetry initiated shortly before you entered the grinder.” He looked at a display on his desk. “It continues to operate at this moment.”

  “Sir! I don’t understand,” Flora pleaded.

  Telemetry. The dermal dot. Grace felt her chest constrict. But the dot had no circuits! It wasn’t mechanical. Just a drop of gel. How could it have sent out a signal they could find?

  Commandant Huber’s head wrenched away from his paper screen. He stared at Flora, red in the neck and face. Grace knew Huber considered expulsion the ultimate failure. He took it personally.

  “Tannenbaum, I want silence from you,” he said, pronouncing each word carefully while he pointed his index finger.

  Grace winced with Flora. Pride. It had been her pride. Her sense of superiority merging with her protectiveness. She had completely dismissed Flora’s abilities. Flora had entered Charlie and gotten through the course without any problems. And now, Flora’s act of real accomplishment was destroyed.

  No. Almost destroyed.

  “Sir,” she began.

  “What is it, Cadet Donner?”

  She raised her chin. “Sir, it’s my fault, not Cadet Tannenbaum’s.”

  Huber briefly turned his head towards a dark corner of the room and then looked at Grace. The lines on his face relaxed, but the frown deepened. Flora turned with a version of Huber’s ponderous expression.

  “Grace, why would you…?” Flora began, but a quick look from the Commandant cut her question short.

  “Cadet Donner, what are you talking about?”

  Grace clicked to attention. “Sir, I put a device on Cadet Tannenbaum, without her knowledge, before I entered Charlie. It’s a tracking device. I was concerned for her safety.” It sounded like a wild excuse.

  “Remove it from her, Donner.”

  Grace reached over and, as deftly as she had planted the dermal dot on Flora’s ear, removed it.

  A wave of relief played out on Flora’s face, but Grace sensed what would come next.

  “Tannenbaum, go directly to your room. You are to speak to no one regarding anything here unless ordered. Understood? I will deal with you later.”

  Within seconds, Flora had marched from the room. Huber moved from behind the desk to stand directly in front of Grace. Unlike Smith, Huber stood significantly taller than she, and even if he didn’t, he commanded her respect with physical prowess alone.

  “Give it to me, Donner.”

  She handed him the dot and he looked at it carefully. He placed it on his desk.

  “Cadet Donner, I cannot let this pass. Cloister One is in on this. Monitors flagged the signal. Hell! It showed the same EM signature the deep field miners use! Out by Jupiter, dammit. It’s way beyond anything remotely sanctioned at a cloister.”

  Grace didn’t speak. She watched as Commandant Huber paced in front of his desk. He was clearly trying to think this through, and judging by his expression, he didn’t want to hear from her. Grace knew it had taken decades before phasewaves were allowed at the academy. It would probably be a century or more before a dot was acceptable. Cloisterfolk and technology didn’t mix.

  She didn’t want to contemplate her ptenda.

  Finally, Huber sighed and shook his head. “This thing is too…” he paused, searching for the right word, “…too outside. This transgression goes far beyond terminating you here at the academy.”

  Grace felt the clammy sweat of her hands as her heartbeat pulsed in her ears. A wave of nausea crested as her future vanished.

  “Donner, you’re done. I cannot jeopardize Red Fox Academy and Cloister Eleven because one of my cadets decided to go mechflesh.”

  Huber leaned on his desk and looked at the dot.

  “Too outside.”

  He leaned over and grabbed a geode paperweight. He brought down the geode hard on the dot. Every object on the desk rattled as the rock hit. When he removed the geode, a small bead of blue gel remained.

  Grace continued standing in silence.

  “You will pack up and leave the cloister legal boundary before sundown. A debrief packet will be presented to you before departure. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” Grace said woodenly. She fractured into millions of pieces inside.

  “You should use the remaining time to notify your family and arrange for your ouster. You may apply for a visitor status waiver after one year, but you may not reside permanently in cloister for the rest of your life.” He paused. “Do you have anything to say, Donner, as part of the record?”

  “No, sir,” Grace said, her voice ringing with respect to Huber and his office.

  “You are dismissed.” Huber returned the respect in kind.

  Grace marched out of the Commandant’s office, feeling the last few years of her life dissolve behind her.

  Chapter 3

  The quad was nearly devoid of cadets. Nick had returned and waited at the bottom of the steps.

  “Hey, Grace,” he began, “Flora said she didn’t need any help. She told me you needed help, then broke down and ran back to the dorm. What’s going on?”

  “I have two old sayings for you, Nick. ‘Pride goes before the fall,’ and ‘the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.’” She surveyed the courtyard. “We need privacy. Let’s head back to the room.”

  They walked in silence. It took them less than five minutes to reach the room. She closed the door and offered Nick a seat. Grace didn’t want to sit. She wanted to pace. Flora sat on the edge of her rack, eyes puffy but no longer crying. She watched Grace silently.

  “All right. This is what happened.” She took a deep breath, avoiding Flora’s eyes. “I was so worried about Flora that I put a dermal dot on her in case she had difficulties with Charlie.” Grace paused for a moment, her fists clenching. “I forgot to remove it from her afterwards, and they found it. I didn’t know they had sweepers looking for this stuff.”

  Nick glanced from Flora to Grace. “A dermal dot? What’s that? Some kind of tracking device?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Grace said. “And they’re hypocrites. They use tech like the dot to find contraband devices.”

  “Damn, Grace. What are you doing with contraband?”

  “From my friend. Raj. He’s mechflesh, used to live here in cloister,” she said.

  “Raj. I remember him.” Flora murmured. “He’s mechflesh now? I used to like his curly hair.”

&nb
sp; She didn’t sound angry. Grace felt a mingling of guilt and relief.

  “I talked to Raj about you, Flora,” Grace said. “I was worried. He gave me the dermal dot and a ptenda in case you needed help.”

  “I can’t blame you. The academy gets lazy with its failing cadets,” Nick offered, then frowned and looked at Flora. “No offense. You made it through Charlie.”

  “You have a ptenda?” Flora said, ignoring him.

  Grace nodded, glancing toward the gun safe.

  “Inefficient use of sweepers, if they didn’t catch you on the way in,” Nick said. “I wonder what other contraband’s lurking here.”

  “What’s going to happen now?” Flora asked.

  “I have to leave the academy,” Grace said. “Hell, I have to leave cloister.”

  “No!” Flora exclaimed, her voice pitched high.

  Nick’s face had fallen. “Yeah, I figured you were out. What a waste, Grace.” He shook his head. “You’d think Huber would have had your back.”

  “He couldn’t. Regulations. The tech I used was too connected. They reported it to Cloister One. Or the other way around. I don’t know.”

  “But Grace,” Flora said. “It’s not—why? What will people think? That you’re out and I’m in?”

  “Everyone’s going to think I cheated,” Grace said. “Hmph. Let ‘em.”

  She watched her two friends, knowing she had let them down. Nick looked disappointed. Flora seemed near panic.

  “Sorry,” Grace said, but it felt empty. She couldn’t just leave it at that. She crossed the room to where Flora was crying again, and cradled her friend’s face in her hands.

  “Flora,” she said. “You beat Charlie on your own. You can stand on your own two feet. I’m counting on you to protect me after you graduate.”

  She thought Flora would protest. Instead, there was the hint of a smile.

  “I did beat Charlie,” Flora said. “When I waded in, I felt…in control.” She paused, blinking. “I even felt in control when we were standing before Huber.”

  Grace smiled.

  “Until you removed the dot, Grace. Then the feeling disappeared.” Flora raised an eyebrow. “What was in that dot?”

  “It was for tracking, Flora. You did Charlie all on your own. But if you need blue gunk to get you through, have Nick draw a dot behind your ear.”

  Flora laughed nervously.

  “Flora, you did beat Charlie,” Nick said. “And you can do it again. Fear is the hardest part of the grinders.”

  Grace smiled. Yesterday, she would have wagered Flora might shoot herself in the foot. Now she had the makings of a protector. A few more grinder successes, and she’d be respected again. Flora would continue her training and become certified.

  “What are you gonna do, Grace?” Flora asked, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

  “My arms were always too short. I’m going mechflesh, get them swapped out, and I’ll be on a cruiser for the asteroid belt.”

  Flora’s eyes widened, but Nick barked a laugh.

  “Or, maybe I’ll go into politics. The gene addicts are running the show. I’ve always wanted to live forever.”

  “Not really a joke, that one,” Nick said.

  “Seriously, Grace.”

  Grace shrugged, grabbing her bag. “Look, I don’t know what I’m going to do. It won’t be in a cloister, that’s for sure.”

  • • •

  The three talked for hours. Dawn approached.

  “Breakfast time.” Nick stretched.

  “Come to the mess with us, Grace.”

  “No thanks. I don’t want to be on display in the fish bowl.” She hugged Flora for a moment, pushed her away by the shoulders, and pointed toward the door. “March out that door, cadet, and don’t look back. No regrets for a dishonorable bunkmate.”

  “You’re no such thing.” Nick surprised her with a hug that lifted her off the floor. “I’ll find you on the outside someday, Gracie. And I’ll keep an eye on Flora.”

  Nick grinned, set her down again, and went to the door.

  Flora watched Nick go, lingering behind.

  “What is it, Flora?”

  Flora reached under her pillow, and handed Grace a small bundle.

  “Before I go, Grace, I want you to have this.”

  “What—?”

  “Don’t ask, take.” Flora’s eyes began to well up again.

  The klaxon sounded morning mess as Flora walked out the door. Grace heard a few minutes of scuffling in the outer hall as the hordes headed out to feed.

  Finally back in silence. Grace breathed a cleansing sigh and sat on the rack, the bundle next to her. It rested heavy and conical, no mistaking its shape. A weapon. She unwrapped the blue bandanna to find a leather holster with a gun inside, the tactical straps slung tight. A scrap of paper caught her eye. It read, ‘Jonnie.’

  As she raised the firearm to inspect it, Grace recognized the grip style of a 2100 Cloister Arms Bushwhacker. Bill Hoffman’s gambled-away weapon. Grace welled up with a burst of pride and amazement.

  “Flora, you little swindler! You bet on yourself!”

  • • •

  Hours passed, and Grace alternated between sitting, pacing, and staring out the window onto the quad. Her bag was packed. All she had to do was wait for the orders. Academy efficiency. She wouldn’t miss it.

  She had begun to wonder if she’d have to ask Flora to bring her back something from midday mess when a small packet skidded underneath the door and hit her foot. It was clearly marked with the Cloister Act imprint. Somebody had written on the back: OPEN IMMEDIATELY.

  Grace sat down on the hardwood floor with a thud. For a good minute, she regarded the official-looking parcel with the unofficial advice written upon it. This was it. Goodbye, Grace. She opened it.

  The cover sheet was boilerplate. TERMINATION FROM PROTECTOR & ADVANCED COUNTER-AGGRESSOR PROGRAM.

  All the charges, all the on-record evidence, and the determination that she had willfully broken the terms and would not expect a refund of her tuition.

  The next bundle of twenty pages comprised a copy of her original enrollment contract. She remembered the pride she had felt as she entered the academy. Her name was proudly signed on every dotted line.

  Another stack contained an excerpt from the Cloister Act. It pertained to her excommunication from cloister, along with an amendment further defining illegal technology and a curious bit regarding firearm rights as they pertained to compstate and cloister. Grace understood clearly enough. No protector, no weapons.

  The last sheet proved absolutely unexpected.

  Fighting a grin, she shouldered her bag and took one last look at her dorm room. She inhaled her universe for the past two years: dry wood, canvas, and sweat. Friendship. Dreams. Easier to leave than she thought.

  Down the hallway and stairs, out to the deserted quad. She sensed many pairs of eyes staring from the dorm windows, from the exercise grounds, and from a weary platoon returning from a mini grinder. She schooled her features into something suitably defeated. But she couldn’t fight a smile when she got to the gate and recognized the slouching silhouette.

  Finn Smith gave her a quick nod and a knowing grin.

  “Ready to dance, Donner?”

  Chapter 4

  Hours later, Grace arrived at the main highway outside Cloister Eleven. She wore a bandage around her head with a widening spot of blood on her left temple. She limped, favoring her knee, lugging her duffel as she crossed to the east side of the road. A sign pointed the way to destinations north.

  An odd taste in her mouth drew her attention. Grace fiddled with her tongue and spat out most of a broken upper molar that had dangled carelessly from its socket for the last couple of hours. Should have been pulled when I was a kid, she thought.

  Grace sat down at the sign. She listened to the wind in the grass. The sun was setting, clouds clumped around it like angry red steers. She looked up at the sign again. Port Casper was three hundred kilometers a
way. Her destination.

  She turned to look at the road as she heard an engine whisper far in the distance. As it grew closer and louder, she recognized the wheeze of the motor and the squeak of the bed as her dad’s ancient pickup jostled along the highway.

  Soon the truck was close enough for Grace to hear the crunch of gravel. Two headlights appeared around a corner as the gray beast, dappled with rust, came to a slow stop.

  The window protested as Dan Donner lowered it.

  “Need any help, Gracie?” he said.

  “No, Dad,” she said, tossing the duffel into the bed. She ran around the truck and hopped aboard. The old leather seat felt hard and cool.

  “We got about an hour, so why don’t you lay back and rest?” he said. She caught his gaze on her bandage.

  He’s still looking after his little girl, she thought. Grace smiled and stretched out while her dad pressed down the accelerator and the truck lurched forward.

  “What happened to your head, Gracie?”

  She grinned, reaching into her suit and pulling out a single sheet of paper.

  “I’ll tell you, Dad—”

  “Don’t try to read that in the dark,” he said, reaching forward and switching on the dome light. It hissed and flickered, but provided enough light for the document with the Red Fox Academy seal.

  Grace read aloud:

  FROM: CMDT. G. HUBER, RED FOX ACADEMY, CLOISTER 11

  TO: CDT. DONNER, GRACE JEAN

  CC: CLOISTER 11 COUNCIL, ALL MEMBERS

  Ms. Donner. In accordance with Red Fox Academy Charter, you have been granted pre-waiver status as a result of successful completion of Weapons and Strategy Testing And Qualification Course [WSTQC] “C” [ref: “Mini Grinder Charlie”] and shall be afforded the opportunity to achieve a permanent waiver to operate as Protector upon successful completion of WSTQC Master [ref: “Meat Grinder”] within the boundaries of the compstate of Wyoming and any and all other states, provinces, or sovereignties that honor the Cloister Act certification of Protector.

  Caveats of waiver include a testing proctor in good standing at Red Fox Academy. Daily duty status is inconsequential and shall not be refused. Those certifying must adhere to the rules set forth by a standard enrollment contract. Completion of the certification must take place before the time and date of official termination from program [ref: sundown, dated this day] (see document date above). Red Fox Academy is in no way responsible for injury or death due to the waiver recipient’s willingness to enter the qualifying course.