New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!
At least she could get snacks.
After leaving the office area, she headed to the snack bars to see what was available.
Food was something always present in her mind. Not just the desire for enough to survive on (though it had been a real concern many times), but always hoping for something she actually liked.
Perhaps it was because she’d actually sometimes been able to get something coveted that it became such a deeply-ingrained desire.
It irked her that she still found herself wanting algae pudding, what passed for a dessert on New Vitriol.
There were a number of kiosks manned by real people – almost all humans, but she saw a Dessei and one of the squid-like people she thought were called Sepht.
It was the first time she could actually see one in person, but the being was actually closing up, and was gone before she could get over there.
Just as well, she thought, looking at the food on its sign. She didn’t think she wanted to eat any of that.
Her tablet pinged; warning her that Sepht food was not good for the human palette or digestive system.
Must have been for Sepht tourists or something . . .
She moved to the human-oriented food stalls.
The first one had something she’d never expected to see; fruit.
She had not ever seen a piece in person. She’d seen them in shows and films, though usually on New Vitriol food was edited out or censored to fight food riots.
They looked so fresh and happy. Apples of mottled red and green or dark red, bright oranges, something with spikes she didn’t know, starfruit, mangoes . . .
“I have this,” she said, showing the card Brooks had given her. “Can I get some fruit?”
“Of course,” the woman behind the counter said. She waved her gloved hand at the card, and Apollonia heard a ping on her tablet.
Looking at it, she saw that her card was pre-approved for food exchange. In the quantity of . . . Four thousand credits.
“How much is an apple and a mango?” she asked.
The woman gestured, and a receipt for 2 credits came up on her tablet.
Two?! Out of four thousand?
“Thanks,” she said, taking the fruit, still staggered.
She was going to need a big tray, she realized, as he looked down the line of stalls.
Brooks moved to a private office for his call.
The fact that their shuttle was gone, and the private communications lines were in use was not an accident, he felt.
His credentials could not find out just who or what was tying up the station’s private channels. But he had other options.
System Admiral Temohee Vandoss was an old friend, and Brooks had been in contact with the man as soon as he’d gotten his summons back to Sol.
The whole thing was unusual; he was not in the Research Bureau, but the Voidfleet. And for an officer from Earth, that meant his direct chain of command involved Vandoss. Leveling dereliction charges against a member of another branch typically involved communicating with that chain of command.
But Vandoss had received no word from Director Freeman, nor any of his superiors.
His suspicion about it all had caused Vandoss to give to Brooks his own unique authorization code in case of trouble. It was an emergency military system, with several channels always available.
In the private office, Brooks sent the message off to Vandoss. His system told him that it was late on ComStat – the seat of Sol’s military, in orbit around Earth.
Vandoss was apparently awake, however. On only the third round of beeps he picked up.
There was no visual, just a voice.
“Ian, I hope that’s you,” the man’s gruff voice came through.
“It is Temohee. Glad to report that there’s no enemy fleet trying to break down the gates.”
The older man chuckled. “That is good news. I take it that you’ve noticed your shuttle is gone, and communications are stuffed full.”
“Yes. That wasn’t your doing, was it?”
“No. Director Freeman’s causing mischief. On a ‘whim’ he decided to host seven major research gatherings on and around Plucharon, that are being livestreamed back to Earth. Ostensibly its for our extra-solar friends.”
“But it was likely to interfere with me talking to you,” Brooks said. “And the shuttle?”
“A group of medical officers took it under his jurisdiction, not medical bureau’s,” Vandoss said. “One of them is a Dr. Benj Genson, formerly of MS-29, and now a material witness for his case.”
“I recall the man. He was one of Verena’s personal staff of doctors. I believe he tipped off Freeman to begin with.”
“Well there it is. Fortunately, I was expecting some kind of shenanigans like this, so I have four other shuttles out that way for your use, if you need them. I’ve already signalled one – it should dock in an hour.”
“Thank you, Temohee,” Brooks said. “But all of this concerns me. Is corruption really spreading?”
“It’s . . . sometimes I get worried myself,” Vandoss replied. “But I don’t think it’s systemic, Ian. I think . . . we’re like a body that’s been healthy so long it’s forgotten how to deal with illness. Dr. Freeman isn’t the only one, but he’s the boldest. They step around the rules very carefully, not breaking them, but breaking their spirit. It can’t last.”
“No,” Brooks said. “We won’t let it fester.”
“The part that worries me the most is that I don’t know what Freeman hopes to gain from these charges against you.”
“Do you think he can stick them?”
“I don’t know,” the man said. “I have not yet been given all of his ‘evidence’. I do not doubt you did your duty, but given how this man flaunts the rules . . . still, I have faith in the justice of our system.”
“I do as well,” Brooks replied. “Thank you, Temohee. I’ll see you in a few days.”
Brooks ended the call, and took a long, slow breath before leaving the office.
Other Terrestrial 